W Is for Wasted

a feeling of relief. She was keeping her anger in check, but it was there.
    She went on, her gaze fixed on the floor. “Two months ago he told me he was setting money aside for our anniversary. Next year would have been our fortieth and he wanted us to go on a river cruise. I didn’t take him seriously, but I was hoping he’d managed to tuck a little something away. If I could lay hands on anything, I could at least pay the noisiest of his creditors.”
    “You haven’t found anything?”
    She shook her head. “I’ve turned this house upside down and there’s nothing except for the twenty-two dollars’ worth of coins he tossed in a jar.”
    “No investments?”
    “Oh, please. No stocks, no bonds, no annuities,” she said. “He drove a Ford Fairlane with over two hundred thousand miles on the odometer. The police impounded the car at the scene, but it’s since been returned. I sold it for a hundred dollars and I was delighted to get that much. The new owner’s picking it up later in the week. It’s parked out back if you’d like to take a look. Maybe he stashed a winning lottery ticket in the glove compartment.”
    Her tone carried a touch of irony, but she wasn’t being sarcastic or self-mocking. She must have been appalled at the position he’d left her in.
    Dietz said, “What about you, do you work?”
    “I’m a private-duty nurse. I make more than adequate money for my personal needs. Even if I’m forced to mortgage the house, I’ll be fine, but it’s not what I pictured at this stage of my life.”
    “I’m sorry we’ve had to burden you with this along with everything else,” he said.
    “How much did he owe you?”
    “A little more than three thousand dollars.”
    She said, “I apologize.”
    “Not your fault,” Dietz said.
    “You mentioned another approach.”
    Dietz said, “A long shot. It’s possible Pete hadn’t been paid for the job he subbed out to me. If we can take a look at his files, we might find his account receivables and collect from the client instead of having to worry you.”
    “If someone owed him money, wouldn’t the income count as part of his estate?”
    “All I know is I did the work and I’d like to be paid.”
    She considered the request and then seemed to shrug. “There are files in the garage. He’d been carting home boxes a few at a time over a period of weeks. I realize now he was worried about being evicted and wanted to be prepared.” She rose to her feet. “You can follow me if you like.”

26
    On the way through the house, she picked up a set of car keys from a kitchen drawer. We followed her across a yard that was stripped down and unadorned. The grass, already in its dormant phase, had turned a dispirited shade of brown. It was clear neither she nor Pete had made any effort outdoors. An empty bird feeder hung from a branch of a dwarf citrus tree, but there were no other signs of attention to the exterior, which seemed to have survived in spite of them. The two-car garage was a separate white-frame structure located at the rear of the property. Ruthie let us in through a side door.
    The two sets of double doors that opened onto the alleyway were operated by hand, and it was clear neither had been used in years. The hinges were dark brown with rust, and cobwebs lined the crevices, like fake Halloween effects. Spiders had set up small nurseries, swaddling their eggs in gauzy tapers until time to hatch. The floor was concrete, though little of it showed. There was no room for cars given the staggering number of cardboard boxes in evidence, among other things. The space was jammed with old furniture, power tools, lamps, file cabinets, crates, broken appliances, luggage, discarded doors, and miscellaneous lawn equipment, also rusted from neglect. Dilapidated cartons were stacked ten deep and eight high, sealed with masking tape and unmarked. Some had toppled over and their contents had fallen out and been left where they landed. The air smelled of mice and dust.
    “Is this everything?” Dietz asked, not quite masking the plaintiveness in his tone.
    “I’m afraid not. I haven’t been able to face his office, so the furniture and any remaining files will be there. I know his rent was in arrears and I don’t have the nerve to contact his landlady for fear I’ll be forced to pay up. I’ll give you the key if you want to go through his desk and his file cabinets.”
    I said, “We stopped by Pete’s office earlier. The place has been