I Is for Innocent

left?"
    "Yes, and thank you. I'm sorry we weren't here, but Dorothy wanted to go over to the funeral home to see Morley. We realized you'd stopped by as soon as we got back."
    "How's Dorothy holding up?"
    "About as well as could be expected. She's a pretty tough old bird. We both are if it comes to that."
    "Uhm, listen, Louise, I know this is an imposition, but is there any way I could talk to the two of you this afternoon?"
    "About what?"
    "I'd really prefer to discuss it in person. Is Dorothy up for a visit?"
    I could hear her hesitation.
    "It's important," I said.
    "Just a minute. I'll check." She put a hand over the mouthpiece and I could hear the murmur of their conversation. She came back on the line. "If you can make it brief," she said.
    "I'll be out there in fifteen minutes."
    For the third time in two days, I drove out to Morley's house in Colgate. The early afternoon sun was just making an appearance. December and January are really our best months. February can be rainy and it's usually gray. Spring in Santa Teresa is like spring anywhere else in the country. By early summer, we're swathed in a perpetual marine layer so that days begin in the bright white-gray of fog and end in a curious golden sunlight. So far December had been a blend of the two seasons, spring and summer alternating inexplicably from day to day.
    Louise answered my knock and let me into the living room, where Dorothy had been ensconced on the couch.
    "I'm going to make us a pot of tea," Louise murmured and then excused herself. Moments later, I could hear her rattling dishes as she took them from the cupboard.
    Dorothy was still dressed in a skirt and sweater from her recent outing. She'd taken off her shoes and a quilt had been tucked around her legs for warmth. One narrow foot, looking as fragile as porcelain, extended from the swaddling. She and Louise might have looked more like sisters before her illness had drained her face of color. Both were small-boned with blue eyes and fine-textured skin. Dorothy was sporting a platinum-blond wig in a blowsy bedroom style. She caught my eye and smiled, reaching up to adjust the Dynel pouf. "I always wanted to be a blonde," she said ruefully and then held out her hand. "You're Kinsey Millhone. Morley told me all about you." We shook hands. Hers felt light and cold, as leathery as a bird's claw.
    "Morley talked about me?" I said with surprise.
    "He always thought you had great promise if you could learn to curb your tongue."
    I laughed. "I haven't quite managed that, but it's nice to hear. I was sorry he and Ben never patched up their differences."
    "They were both much too stubborn," she said with mock disgust. "Morley never could remember what they fought about. Have a seat, dear. Louise will bring us some tea in just a minute."
    I chose a small chair covered in a tapestry. "I don't want to be a bother. I appreciate this. You must be tired."
    "Oh, I'm used to that. If I fade, you'll just have to forgive me and carry on with Loo. We were just over at the funeral home for the 'Viewing,' as they refer to it."
    "How does he look?"
    "Well, I don't think the dead ever look good. They seem flat somehow. Have you ever noticed that? Like they've had half the stuffing taken out," she said. Her tone was matter-of-fact, as if she were discussing an old mattress instead of the man she'd been married to for forty-odd years. "I hope that doesn't sound heartless. I loved the man dearly and I can't tell you what a shock it was to have him go like that. This past year, we talked quite a lot about death, but I always assumed mine was the one under discussion."
    Louise returned to the room. "The tea will just be another minute. In the meantime, why don't you tell us what's on your mind." She perched on the arm of Morley's leather chair.
    "I need some answers to a few questions and I thought you might help. Did Morley talk to you about this case he was working on? I don't want to give you background if you already know the setup."
    Dorothy adjusted her quilt. "Morley told me about every case. As I understand it, this fellow Barney had already been tried for murder. The lawsuit was an attempt on the part of the victim's ex-husband to prove him guilty of wrongful death so that he couldn't inherit the woman's estate."
    "Exactly," I said. "David Barney got in touch with me twice yesterday. He said he'd talked to Morley on Wednesday of last week. He implied Morley was going to look into a couple of questions for him.