Free Thicker Than Water by P.J. Parrish Page A

prick Brenner’s impatience with some small talk.
    Brenner didn’t say anything.
    â€œWhy are you selling it?”
    Brenner was picking at some crumbling plaster and he looked over at Louis. “You’re kidding, right?”
    Louis shrugged. “I like old things.”
    â€œThe land is worth about two-point-five in this market. The house is a tear down.”
    Brenner walked away, heading to the living room. Louis followed.
    â€œLook at that,” Brenner said. “Damn kids.”
    Someone had spray-painted an obscenity on the wall.
    Brenner’s gaze came back to Louis. “What did you want to know about Spencer Duvall?”
    â€œHe had an appointment to see you,” Louis said.
    Brenner was staring at the coral rock fireplace, dusty with soot and cobwebs. “Yes, but then he was murdered.”
    â€œWere you handling his divorce?”
    Brenner turned. “Who said Spencer was getting a divorce?”
    Louis cocked an eyebrow at him.
    Brenner sighed. “Okay, Spencer was coming in to draw up the papers.”
    â€œDid his wife know?”
    Brenner let one beat go by. “No.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œI can’t take this,” Brenner said, pulling out a Kleenex. “I’m allergic to mold. Let’s go outside.”
    Brenner unlocked a French door. It creaked open and they stepped back out into the sunshine. Brenner paused on the flagstone patio to blow his nose. A broad, overgrown lawn sloped gently away from the house. Beyond, Louis could see a dock with a small boathouse on the river.
    â€œI guess I better go see if the seawall is still there,” Brenner said, starting down the lawn.
    Louis followed. “Why didn’t Duvall tell his wife he was initiating divorce proceedings?” he asked.
    â€œYou’d have to know Candace to understand,” Brenner said as he walked. “She was hell to live with. Spencer was going to tell her, but he wanted to get his financial ducks in order first. He didn’t want to put up with her moods any longer than he had to.”
    â€œThey knew each other since college,” Louis said. “I find it hard to believe she didn’t know her husband was dumping her.”
    â€œSpencer was an attorney. He knew how to keep a secret.”
    â€œLike another woman?”
    Brenner stopped and looked at Louis. “Spencer?” He smiled slightly. “No, there was no other woman in Spencer’s life.”
    â€œYou were good friends?”
    â€œNot particularly. We crossed paths socially, but nothing more really.” Brenner started toward the river.
    â€œSo how can you be so sure?”
    Brenner stopped again. With his big head and sunglasses, he looked like a fly. “Spencer wasn’t the type, believe me.”
    They were standing near a swimming pool, half-filled with still, green water. Brenner’s eyes drifted to the cabana. The broken windows of the cabana stared back forlornly.
    â€œKids,” Louis said.
    â€œWhat?” Brenner said, looking at him.
    â€œKids,” Louis repeated, nodding toward the broken windows.
    â€œYeah,” Brenner muttered.
    The faint sound of a car horn carried out to them from up by the house. Louis and Brenner both looked back. A moment later, a blond woman in a green suit appeared at the open French door. She was holding a hand over her eyes, looking their way.
    â€œI have to go,” Brenner said.
    He didn’t wait for Louis to answer. He hurried back up the path to where the appraiser waited. They disappeared into the house.
    Louis stood there, squinting in the bright sun. Well, at least he knew for sure about the divorce. Now he just had to find out if Candace Duvall did.
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    At the Sanibel-Captiva toll booth, Louis stopped to show his resident badge and then drove on over the causeway. He turned off Periwinkle Way, looking for the Duvall home. Bayview Lane turned out to be a secluded street, buffered on