“Sometimes she brought them, sometimes she left them at home. But the point is, no one saw them again. I brought that up with Wendell when it was clear he wasn’t taking me seriously. That’s what I mean by lazy. Woman gets butchered up and she’s got dogs and they’re not in the house, wouldn’t that make you curious, George?”

“Absolutely.”

“Wendell lacked a shred of curiosity. Depression does that, right, Doctor?”

I nodded.

She said, “I know curiosity can kill cats, maybe even dogs. But satisfaction can also bring ’em all back. Wendell just didn’t care and neither did that Santa Barbara detective they sent down.”

“Donald Bragen,” I said.

“Him,” she said. “All macho, like Broderick Crawford on Highway Patrol — before both your times. ‘Yes, ma’am, thank you, ma’am,’ writing everything down in a little notebook. But Broderick listened. Bragen was an idiot, didn’t have time for anyone. You tell me: a prime suspect with a money motive who tortures animals and two dogs go missing. What would you think?”

“What, indeed,” I said.

Mavis Wembley placed a hand on my knee. “I like your style.”

Cardenas and I stayed with her for another half an hour and I did most of the talking, trying to tease out additional details about Leonora Bright’s dreaded half brother.

What I got was thin soup: either older or younger than Leonora and probably from San Francisco “because that’s where Leonora hailed from and she never said he didn’t.”

I thanked her and got up to leave.

She said, “Nice meeting you,” and took hold of Cardenas’s sleeve. “George, last night, I heard raccoons scratching out back near the garbage. Let’s set out some traps for them, as well.”

“She’s something, no?” said Cardenas, backing out the dirt driveway. “Shuffling cards is her idea of aerobics but she’s never sick. Claims her mother lived to a hundred and four.”

“Good DNA,” I said. “The rest of us jog and pretend.”

“You’ve got that right. Think the brother angle’s worth pursuing?”

“It’s all we’ve got.”

“What she said about Wendell does conform to what other people have told me. Didn’t want to get into that out of respect for the dead.”

“No reason. He’s not the issue.”

“So where are you heading now?”

“Back to L.A. unless you’ve got a suggestion.”

“Sorry, no. Want me to do anything?”

“If you’ve got the time to run background on Leonora’s addresses in San Francisco, that would be great.”

“Sure,” he said. “I was also thinking we should try to find the father’s death certificate, see if the brother’s name appears anywhere. Leonora being scared of an inheritance mess right before she died probably narrows the time frame on his passing.”

“Good point. An obituary search might be the easiest way to go. Was Bright her maiden name?”