Last to Die by James Grippando

forty-six million dollars to people she hates?
    No, said Miguel. She left her enemies to fight over forty-six million dollars that they would probably never get their hands on.
    You consider yourself one of her enemies?
    That's a little complicated.
    Give it a shot.
    I never thought of Sally as the enemy. Never. Not even in the darkest times.
    But you did hire yourself a pretty tough divorce lawyer.
    I didn't really hire him. Gerry Colletti did it for me as a friend, freebie.
    He still your friend?
    I don't think of him as one.

Last To Die

    What happened?
    Nothing, really. I just finally came around to realize Sally was right about him. He is a scumbag.
    You think that's one of the reasons Sally considered you the enemy? You used a scumbag divorce lawyer?
    I can see where you might say that, but no. Truth is, I wouldn't let Gerry put the screws to her. I'll give you an example. Sally and me had this restaurant. In fact, we bought it from Gerry. It was a disaster, and we had to close it. All that debt went with me. Whatever assets we had went with Sally. The way I saw it, she was never going to recover psychologically if I put her in a financial hole.
    That's pretty fair-minded.
    After what happened to our daughter, the rules are a little different. You try to work things out.
    Is that the way Sally saw it?
    He gave Jack a sad smile, a slow shake of the head. Unfortunately, no. Sally was a sweet, loving person. But she changed.
    What changed her?
    His smile was gone. Our daughter was murdered in our house. That can change you, don't you think?
    Jack lowered his eyes, a little embarrassed for having asked. It's the most terrible thing I can imagine. And I'm sorry that happened to you and Sally.
    Thanks.
    A party of six walked by on their way to another table. Jack waited for them to pass, then said, But even something as horrible as the death of a child doesn't always tear a marriage apart. Sometimes the parents turn to each other for strength.
    You're talking about the ones who don't blame each other for what happened.
    The waitress brought their drinks, then left as quickly as she'd come. Jack stirred a packet of sugar into his iced tea and asked, Is that what happened to you and Sally? The blame game?
    I don't know what happened to us. We tried. I really tried to be there for her. But she just didn't want help. Not from me, anyway.
    Did she blame you for what happened to your daughter?
    No.
    Did you blame her?
    He paused, as if not sure how to answer. Finally, he said, She thought I did.
    How did she get that impression?
    I'm not sure, exactly.
    What's your sense?
    Again he paused, seeming to struggle. Sally had this job. I didn't really like it.
    The Hooters gig?
    He blinked twice, as if ashamed that Jack knew. Look, I don't want you to get the wrong idea about Sally. She was a terrific mother. It wasn't like she was going out dancing on tables or something. It's just that, we owned that lousy restaurant I was telling you about. We had a terrible flood, no insurance, and we lost everything. We were bad in debt, needed money like you wouldn't believe. We both had to work crappy jobs to get back on our feet. I just wish she could have found something better.
    Did you ask her to quit?
    We talked about it. But tips are pretty good at a place like Hooters. Tourists get a little drunk, you know how it is. Anyway, four hours a night there was like eight hours someplace else. So it left her some time for Katherine.
    So she kept the job?
    Yeah. Big mistake.
    How so?
    Miguel tore open a pack of oyster crackers. She ended up getting stalked by some loser.
    Stalked?
    That's the sort of thing I was most afraid of. Some of these creeps who go to these bars think all the waitresses want it, that they're easy. You know what I'm saying?
    What happened? Somebody started calling her on the phone, following her home - what?
    I don't know all the details. She didn't even tell me about it till after our daughter was killed.
    Why not?
    She knew