Now he wears the same clothes over and over. They keep getting dingier. I think he only washes them on his days off. Hey, I don’t care, I consider grease a badge of honor. But you gotta wonder.” Struts splayed her strong hands on the desk. They were immaculate. “This work does a number on my nails, though. I have them done once a week,” she said, frowning down at her left hand. She whipped a diamond nail file out of her desk drawer and smoothed a tiny jagged spot on her thumbnail.

“Do you know anything about Charlene?” Olivia asked.

Struts shrugged. “She’s got her admirers.”

“I gather you’re not one of them?”

Struts snorted. “Your mom insists Charlene was shy in high school, but she reminds me of those in-crowd girls. Not fond of that type myself.”

“Me neither,” Olivia said, “though Mom keeps reminding me that as an adult I should suspend judgment.”

“Too tiring,” Struts said.

“Any idea how Charles Sr. died?”

“Sure do.” Struts’s lips curved in a half smile of malicious glee. “Charles had his wife Patty served with divorce papers while he went on an early honeymoon with his twenty-five-year-old nurse and second-wife-to-be.” Strut’s smile broadened. “As I heard the story, poor Charles didn’t last the night. Too much excitement. He had a heart attack and died in some fancy hotel in Vegas.”

“Interesting,” Olivia said. “So then how did Charlene’s mom die?”

Struts sighed. “That’s a sad story. I knew Patty from way back when she dated my oldest brother, before Charles swept her off her little size-five, triple-A feet. She should have married my brother, maybe she wouldn’t have morphed into a skinny witch. Anyway, after Charlie Sr. left her and then up and died, Patty inherited everything except the trust for Charlene and Charlie. So Charles Sr. got his comeuppance and Patty got it all. But was she happy?”