She stood up and went to the sliding door and looked out across the pass. It was one of those days when the smog was so thick it looked like it could catch on fire.

"You were a detective. Think about it. Someone killed Terry. It could not have been random tampering-not with two different meds from two different bottles. It was intentional. So, the next question is, who had access to his meds? Who had motive? They are going to look at me first and they may not look any further. I have two children. I can't risk that."

She turned and looked back at me.

"And I didn't do it."

"What motive?"

"Money, for one thing. There's a life insurance policy from when he was with the bureau."

"For one thing? Does that mean there is a second thing?"

She looked down at the floor.

"I loved my husband. But we were having trouble. He was sleeping on the boat those last few weeks. It's probably why he agreed to take that long charter. Most of the time he just did day trips."

"What was the trouble, Graciela? If I'm going to do this, then I have to know."

She shrugged as if she didn't know the answer but then answered it.

"We lived on an island and I no longer liked it. I don't think it was a big secret that I wanted us to move back to the mainland. The problem was, his job with the bureau had left him afraid for our children. Afraid of the world. He wanted to shelter the children from the world. I didn't. I wanted them to see the world and be ready for it."

"And that was it?"

"There were other things. I wasn't happy that he was still working cases."

I stood up and joined her next to the door. I slid it open to let some of the stuffiness out. I realized I should have opened it as soon as we got inside. The place smelled sour. I'd been gone two weeks.

"What cases?"

"He was like you. Haunted by the ones that got away. He had files, boxes of files, down on that boat."