“Give it away. Just about everybody in my family’s had a window foisted off on ’em at some point. My daughter’s house looks like a church.” He smiled, showing dimples I hadn’t seen before. “What brings you back to the neighborhood?”

“I’m curious about the people who owned the property where the dog was buried. You mentioned the house changed hands twice. Did you know the previous owners?”

“Oh, sure. Patrick and Deborah Unruh. Nice folks. The dog wasn’t theirs, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“I know. I’ve talked to the real owner and he has no idea how the dog ended up in someone else’s backyard. There’s probably a simple explanation.”

“That whole section of the hill was overgrown back then. Maybe whoever buried the dog didn’t realize it was private property.”

“Could be,” I said. “When did the Unruhs sell the house?”

“You got me there. It’s been at least fifteen years. I’d say closer to twenty.”

“Did they buy another house in the area?”

“No. They moved to a gated community in Los Angeles. He owned a manufacturing plant, making uniforms, sports gear, and outerwear. He worked down there through the week and drove up here weekends.”

“You think he wanted a place closer to his business?”

“That’d be my guess. The move was abrupt, which I thought was odd. They were here one day, gone the next. I remember chatting with them at a barbecue a few days before and neither said a word about plans to relocate. Next thing I know there’s a moving van in the drive and guys are loading up the household goods.”

“Do you remember when this was?”

“Not a clue. One of the other neighbors might know. The gal next door, Avis Jent, kept in touch for a while. She could tell you more.”

“What about you? No exchange of Christmas cards?”

“We weren’t close friends, more like social acquaintances. Patrick was killed in a plane crash a couple of years ago. After that, I heard Deborah moved back here, but I’ve never had it confirmed. A town this size, you’d think you’d run into people all the time, but you don’t.”

“Do you think she remarried? I ask because I’m wondering if she’s still using the name Unruh.”

“Probably. From what I saw of them, they were one of those magic twosomes who mate for life. They even looked alike. Both tall and trim, fair-haired.”

“Any children?”

“Just one, a boy named Greg. She and Patrick ended up raising his daughter, Rain, so that might count as two kids.”

“What’s the story on him?”