The Last Thing She Ever Did(56)

“Why’s that?”

Dan gave his head a little shake and then stepped to the window and pointed. “Seriously?” He turned to meet Esther’s gaze straight on. “It’s like I told the other young officer.” He pointed toward the window. “Look at that monstrosity, sticking up like a middle finger between the homes that have been there for forty or fifty years. Excuse my French, Detective, but I look at that house and the people who live there as a big middle finger to the rest of us. Or at least what’s left of us. New people with their glitzy homes and European cars are ruining this town. It’s just a matter of time, and this place will be a city without children, populated by people who look at the Internet all day long and have nothing of interest to say to anyone.”

Dan was on a roll, and as much as Esther enjoyed his rant—and could see the truth in what he was saying—she needed to guide him back to the subject at hand. “So you saw nothing,” she said. “You were right outside. You waved to Mrs. Franklin before she went inside.”

“I don’t recall waving to anyone,” he said. “And if I did, it was only because I’m polite to a fault. Mom raised me that way. Truth is, I can’t stand those people over there. Not even Carole. I mean, from what I’ve seen and when I’ve run into her and her husband in town.”

“You’re not sugarcoating a little for me?” Esther asked with a friendly smile, to soften her sarcasm. Or at least try to.

Dan caught it and smiled back. “The little boy’s all right,” he said. “The parents? Jesus, that David is a piece of work, and Carole’s useless. They fight all the time. It’s like living across from some kind of movie-of-the-week trash that’s always on and with no way to change the channel.”

“How so?”

Dan didn’t say anything. He sat down heavily, mute.

“How so?” she repeated.

“You don’t want to know,” he finally said.

“But I do,” Esther said. “I actually need to know.”

Dan looked away, back out the window to the river. “Well, then I don’t want to say. I’m over seventy, but I won’t use the old-guy’s trick of really speaking my mind and then pretending I’m too senile to know I did it.” He pointed across the river. “You can see a lot from here.”

The detective and the old man watched as, as if on cue, the couple with the missing boy faced off in the kitchen. David was saying something in what seemed to be a spirited fashion, but it was hard to see if he was angry or upset. Esther noticed a pair of binoculars on a table next to the swivel chair but didn’t think she should pick them up to get a better view.

“You saw something,” she said.

“Not anything important. Nothing that has to do with anything that really matters here, Detective. I’ve seen things, but nothing that would help you.”

“A little boy is missing, Dr. Miller. I need to know what you know. I understand you don’t like the parents much, but beyond the big house I can’t see why you’d despise them so much. Seem like a nice couple.”

Dan leaned into his leather chair and swiveled it in the direction of the detective. “Like I said, he’s a jerk and she’s a moron. Do I need to spell it out?”

“I think you do,” she said. “Yes.”

The elderly man wasn’t a shrinking violet by any means, but he shifted uncomfortably before speaking. “He’s a player. I think that’s the word you use today.”

Esther pushed a little. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve seen him over there with a woman. Not his wife.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he said. “My eyesight isn’t as bad as you might think, and though it’s been a while, and most all of it is from memory, I know it when someone is having sex.”

“When did you see that?” Esther asked.

“Honestly, I couldn’t count the times. Maybe ten.”

“Recently?” Esther asked.

He shrugged. “No. Not really. It stopped a few months back. The two of them got into a knock-down, drag-out fight. I almost called the police—I guess that would be you—but I didn’t. I was hoping that they’d get divorced and move away. Still be stuck with that piece-of-shit house, though. Excuse my French again.”

“Do you know who the woman is?” Esther asked.

He said he didn’t. “I’m not even sure if it was the same one. Girls these days change their hair and dress different. My wife had the same hairdo from high school to the day she died. Wore a skirt too. Never pants. My Miranda was a genuine classic.”

He fiddled absentmindedly with the remote.

“You must miss her a lot,” Esther said.

“That’s an understatement,” he said. “Every second of the day. What can you do? She wouldn’t want me to lie down and die. Life goes on. Those two across the river don’t know what Miranda and I always knew.”

“And that was?”

Dr. Miller took a deep breath. “That a marriage is between two people. Bring a third into the mix and you’re bound for trouble.”

“You don’t mean Charlie, I presume,” she said. “You mean another woman or another man.”