“I talked to Dr. Reed. Henry lent me his car and I drove out to the university.”

“This was Thursday of last week?”

“Well, yes, but I haven’t seen you since then or I’d have told you earlier.”

“I wasn’t accusing you of anything,” I said.

“When I told Dr. Reed I was Terrence Dace’s daughter, he was confused about why I was there when he’d already talked to you earlier that day. He got all pissy and said he couldn’t understand why you hadn’t just passed the information along.”

“To which you replied?”

“I was so rattled I don’t remember now, but that’s not the point. I thought he knew what you did . . .”

“About what?”

“Your work. He didn’t know you were a private detective.”

“How did that come up?”

“I was just making conversation. I told him I hadn’t been in town long. I said I was staying with your landlord, who owns the studio you rent on the same property. I said it worked out well for both of you because you were sometimes on the road. Dr. Reed asked if you were in sales and then I mentioned what you did for a living. He got upset you never identified yourself. He said you acted like you were having any old conversation about a family member.”

“That’s what it was. I wasn’t there in any professional capacity.”

“But you asked all those questions about the program.”

“He volunteered. I didn’t even know enough to ask.”

“That’s not how he remembers it.”

I considered the situation briefly. “I don’t see how any harm was done,” I said. “I’d have preferred your keeping my personal life to yourself, but it’s too late to worry about that now.”

“I lied a little bit and said you’d given me some of the information, but what I’d really come to ask him was something else. I told him Ethan’s concerns that Daddy’s medication might have affected his mind. Dr. Reed blew his stack. The guy’s a basket case. He wanted to know why everybody was suddenly so interested. He said my father didn’t suffer dementia or any other mental impairment. He was taking a placebo and it wouldn’t have had that effect.”

“Good news for me and bad for you,” I said. “I guess the will’s back in effect.”

“You don’t have to make jokes about it.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be flip.”

“Anyway, I didn’t see why he had to get so huffy. I felt like I really put my foot in it. And then to make matters worse, this other business came up.”

“Please don’t make me guess.”

“Well, I knew one of those homeless people gave you a bottle of Daddy’s pills . . .”

I cut in, saying, “Who told you that?”

“Henry.”