Dismissed With Prejudice (9780061760631) by Judith A. Jance

the shredding, but probably even hired it done. If he had most of those documents in his computer, though, it wouldn’t have mattered.”
    â€œUntil someone infected the computer with a virus.”
    â€œAnd now it’s gone completely,” George added. There was a long pause while he fingered his drink. “Might they be in danger, too?”
    â€œKimi and her mother?” I asked.
    He nodded. “Maybe they should stay in a motel for a while. Or should we ask the Kirkland police to keep an eye on them?”
    I remembered how Machiko had summarily rejected that idea when, for another reason, Kimiko had suggested it. Still, now that George mentioned it, the idea that they too might be at risk bothered me more than I let on. “They’re not in Kirkland,” I said. “They left this afternoon to drive to Pullman.”
    â€œPullman!” George exclaimed. “Why there?”
    â€œBeats me. As soon as the movers finished getting the auction stuff out of the house, they took off.”
    â€œBut what about the funeral? Who’s going to handle that?”
    â€œThere isn’t going to be one.”
    â€œNo funeral? How come? Everybody has funerals.”
    â€œMachiko said no funeral, no memorial service. She was adamant. Big Al and I took Kimi downtown and had her sign all the necessary papers. Tadeo is to be cremated and the remains sent to them in eastern Washington.”
    â€œThat witch!” George murmured under his breath. “She’s got no right to do that.”
    â€œShe has every right in the world, George,” I reminded him. “She’s his widow, remember?”
    â€œAs if I could ever forget.” His voice was taut with emotion. There was something important lurking beneath the surface of his words, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œShe always acted as though she had married beneath her, instead of the other way around, as though his friends weren’t good enough for her. And now she thinks she can lock us out by not having a memorial service for him? No way, not if I have to do it myself.”
    I had never seen George Yamamoto so uncharacteristically emotional. Machiko Kurobashi definitely pushed all his hot buttons.
    â€œTell me about her,” I urged.
    â€œTell you what about her?” he snapped back. “What do you want to know?”
    â€œTadeo wasn’t her first husband?”
    â€œNo. She got hooked up with some sleazebag during the occupation.”
    â€œSleazebag?” I asked.
    â€œI kid you not. This guy was a real creep, a smalltime hood. When he got discharged from the army, he went back to his previous lines of work. He was into horses and Indian reservation cigarettes and whatever else he could lay hands on. And he wasn’t very good at any of it. They wereliving in a run-down apartment down in the International District when someone took care of him. My guess is, he owed money to somebody who decided to collect the hard way.”
    â€œWhen was that?”
    â€œForty-seven, forty-eight. Somewhere around there. It’s a long time ago. I don’t remember exactly.”
    â€œAnd how did Tadeo meet her?”
    â€œHe was working his way through school delivering groceries for a little Mom-and-Pop store down in that same neighborhood. With her rat of a husband dead, she went looking for somebody to take care of her, somebody nice who’d pay the bills and look out for her. Tadeo was it. As soon as she found him, she latched on to him for dear life.”
    â€œAnd when did they get married?”
    â€œI remember that. Nineteen forty-eight for sure. Tadeo was only twenty years old, a junior at the university. I often marveled at what he managed to accomplish, dragging her around behind him like so much dead weight. He got both his B.S. and his Masters from the university here, and then he went down to Stanford and picked up a