“I need more information than that,” I prodded.
Hunter slowly dragged his eyes back to me. “You don’t remember Barry? He was your basketball coach when you were in seventh grade.”
The fact that he remembered that seemed a small miracle. Now that he brought it up, though, I did remember the man. “He was, like, the world’s worst coach. He was barely there.”
“He only did it because his daughter was on the team and he was going through a divorce,” Hunter explained. “He wanted to look like an involved parent, and that was the only way he could think to do it.”
“Stephanie Buttons is his daughter.”
“She is. She doesn’t live here any longer. She moved to Traverse City about two years after we graduated. Last I heard, she was married and had three kids. Her brother is still around. He’s as much a loser as the father. Stephanie is the only decent one in that family.”
I pursed my lips. “I remember her being nice.”
“She was. Him, though ... .” Hunter made a tsking sound and shook his head. “He’s the worst of the worst.”
I racked my brain trying to remember tidbits about Barry. “He’s an attorney.”
“He is.”
“Why would Vera need an attorney?” My mind was racing now. “You don’t think that she’s worried she’ll be arrested?” I knew I was grasping, but the unsettling feeling from the night before had stuck with me through the morning. I couldn’t help wondering if it would disappear once Shadow Hills’ one and only murderer was behind bars. If that was Vera, so be it.
“He’s not that sort of attorney,” Hunter replied, stroking his chin, thoughtful.
I watched him, enjoying the intense look on his face. He was always the sort who enjoyed gnawing on a problem until there was nothing left but masticated bones ... and a solution.
“What kind of attorney is he?” I asked when it became apparent that he wasn’t going to expand on the earlier statement.
“He’s a divorce attorney.”
That was enough to knock me back a step. “Wait ... why would Vera need a divorce attorney? Her husband is dead.”
“That is a very interesting question.”
I was silent for a moment, myriad possibilities flooding my mind. “Do you think she was considering divorcing Roy before he was killed?”
“If she was, she conveniently left that out during our initial interview.”
“So what does that mean?”
“I don’t know.” Slowly, he let his eyes drift back to me. “It’s interesting, though.”
“I guess.” I didn’t know what response he was expecting. “Are you going over there?”
“For now I’m just going to watch. We’ll see how things progress.”
14
Fourteen
“They’re arguing about money,” I announced when I came back to Hunter for the fifth time. He’d long since finished his breakfast, but we’d turned our spying into a game of sorts. He couldn’t approach Vera and her attorney. But I could continue topping off their coffee and they barely paid me any attention.
“What kind of money?” he asked.
“American money. How should I know?”
The look he shot me was withering. “You are ... so much work.” He flicked me between the eyebrows, causing me to glare. It was something he did to irritate me when we were teenagers. “What are they arguing about in regard to money?”
I should’ve known that’s what he was asking. I was having too good a time to cut it short. “They’re talking about selling the house and how much she can get for it.”
Hunter turned pensive. “She wants to sell her house?”
“That’s what it sounds like. He’s telling her it’s a mistake because she won’t get very much for it and she has bills to pay.”
“Did he say what bills?”
“No, and I didn’t ask. Why is that important?”
“I don’t know that it is important.” He rubbed his strong chin. “It doesn’t make sense for Vera to move from this area. Her house is paid for. The cost of living is low. She’ll inherit everything from Roy’s estate.”
“Unless there is no estate.”
“How can he not have an estate? He’s been working his entire adult life. He should’ve been socking money away all that time.”
“Not everybody starts planning for their retirement when they’re sixteen,” I teased, remembering back to the things he told me about the shoebox of money he was hiding in his basement when we were teenagers.
“Hey, I want to make sure my golden years are spent on sunny beaches.”
“So you’re surrounded by girls in bikinis?”
“So ... I can rest.” He took on a far-off expression for a moment and then shook his head. “I’m curious about why Vera would make the decision to pack up and move out of the blue. This is her home.”
“Yeah, but we don’t know what was going on between her and Roy,” I pointed out. “Maybe she never wanted to stay here. Maybe he made the decision to stay. It’s possible she’s always wanted to live somewhere else.”
“Like you.”
It was a pointed statement, and it made me feel uncomfortable. “Like me,” I conceded. “I always thought that I wanted to live in the city. Don’t get me wrong, the city appeals to me on a certain level, but the older I get, the more I realize that there’s more to picking a place to settle down than being able to go to a midnight movie screening.”
His smiled. “That was one of your big complaints back in the day. You wanted to be able to see blockbusters at a place that had more than one screen. Was it everything you hoped for?”
I shrugged. “Sometimes. I guess I wish I had someone to go to the movies with. I don’t dislike seeing a movie alone, but we used to dissect the movies we saw together. I would do it from a narrative perspective and you would make fun of the action scenes. It’s not as much fun when you don’t have someone to talk with after.”
His gaze was serious. “Are you staying?”
The way his demeanor shifted told me he hadn’t meant to blurt out the question. It was right there, though, and I couldn’t ignore it.
“I don’t know. I didn’t think so when I first came back, but ... I’m starting to wonder.”
“About what?” His full attention was on me now. He didn’t as much as glance in Vera’s direction.
“About everything. The other day, when I was walking along the river, I forgot how much I missed it. I didn’t let myself think about things like that when I was away, because ... I don’t know ... it made me sad.
“I mean, there I was, doing what I was supposed to be doing but nothing felt right,” I continued. “I want to write books. That hasn’t changed. I’m starting to think the life I convinced myself I needed wasn’t the one I really needed. I spent all of my teen years dying to get out of this place.”
“And now?”
“Now I can’t seem to remember why.”