“Babysitting is fine as long as it’s not your full-time job,” Oliver said. “That’s what I love about my grandchildren. Kiss them, spoil them, and then when they’re all hyped up, you go home and sleep.”

“How many grandchildren do you have, Detective Oliver?”

“Five…four boys and a little newborn girl. She’s an oddball. I have three sons. We’re overloaded in the Y chromosome department.”

“That’s not too bad. I think boys are much easier than girls. At least that’s been my experience. And you, Sergeant?”

“A daughter. She’s in college.”

Delia nodded and turned back to Oliver. “How old are your grandsons?”

“The oldest is going into high school. I don’t know where the time has gone.”

“It only gets worse the older you get. Time doesn’t march, it does a steeplechase. I look in the mirror and I hardly recognize the face staring back at me.”

It was a pleasant face, Marge thought. Kind brown eyes surrounded by skin that was a little smoother than it should have been. The plastic surgeon hadn’t overdone it. “Thanks again for talking to us,” Marge iterated. “We’re trying to jump-start your late son-in-law’s case.”

“Poor Ben…what a gem he was. There wasn’t anything that boy couldn’t do. He was just so full of energy. We were all so…” A big sigh. “I was devastated. My husband was devastated. The kids were destroyed.”

“And Melinda?” Marge asked.

The old woman’s eyes were still far away. “Melinda?” They pulled back and focused in on Marge’s face. “She fell apart, although she didn’t need much of an excuse to do that. Melinda was always a delicate child. She was a beautiful little girl and because of that, she was indulged, mostly by her father. He just adored her. We’ve been estranged for a while. It’s killing him.”

“I’m sure it’s hard on you as well,” Marge said.

“I’m tougher than my husband.” Her pained expression belied her bravado. “I understand her point of view, but she refuses to see our point of view. And no matter what we try to do or say, we’re just mud in her eyes.” The old woman was shaking her head. “But we just couldn’t continue to fund her addiction.”

“Were you aware of her gambling problem before Ben was murdered?”

“As soon as she turned twenty-one, we were both highly aware of it. So was Ben.”

Marge said, “He married her even though he knew?”

“Melinda was very persistent. She chased him. Ben was very handsome and very charismatic. Why else would she go for a teacher? Melinda always wanted to marry money.” A forced sigh. “Well, she got her wish with her second husband. I hope they’re very happy.”

“Do you like your current son-in-law?”

“I hardly know him!” Delia exclaimed. “It’s all good and well. I adore Jared and Amy. We’ve very close.”

“What about Nick?”

“I have nothing against Nick, but he’s a little different. I’ve tried to get closer, but Nick has had his own problems. I send the children gifts at Christmas, and they write thank-you cards, but he doesn’t call and I have to respect his privacy.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “We wouldn’t have much in common, anyway, I don’t think.”

“I understand,” Marge said, returning her whisper. “So Ben married your daughter even though she had a gambling problem.”

“Yes.”

“How’d he keep it in check?”

“With the purse strings. He watched her very carefully, and she didn’t dare defy him. And he took her to Vegas every once in a while. It blew off a little bit of her steam.”

“It didn’t feed the addiction?”

“I suppose it did, but he was trying to be as kind as he could. As long as she couldn’t touch the money, they were okay.”

“What money? His?” Oliver asked.

“No, the money we put aside for Melinda. She had a trust fund. We had put in over a half-million dollars for her. It was for big things-a house, education, savings. Money that she might need as an adult, not money for the tables in Vegas.”

“Of course,” Marge said. “When was she to get the money?”

“It was in two stages. Half when she was twenty-five and half when she was thirty. But we could see the writing on the wall. It wasn’t going to work.” She lowered her head. “The trust provided us with a onetime spendthrift clause just for these kinds of problems. The clause meant we could take back the money from the trust and put it in our account at any time.”

“I see where this is leading,” Oliver said.

“She was furious. She threatened never to talk to us and that we’d never see our future grandchildren.” Delia’s eyes welled up with tears. “It was a terrible scene! Thank God for Ben.”

“What happened?”

Delia swallowed back a sob. “He offered us an alternative. We would give Melinda the money, but Ben would have full power to manage it.”

Marge said, “And you didn’t have a problem with having your son-in-law in charge of the money?”

“Whatever he’d do, it had to be better than what Melinda would have done. He promised to spend the money on things for the family-education for their future children; the boys weren’t born yet. He said he’d use it for a life insurance policy and the occasional toy for the family like a boat or a car. He’d buy her jewelry so she felt like she would have something of her own. He promised that he’d manage her money and we could rest assured that it would be put to good use.”

“And Melinda agreed to that?”

“It was either that or no money at all.”

“So she agreed?”

“We had her put it in writing.” She looked away and sighed. “And Ben, God bless him, kept his word. He consulted us with every purchase, even though he didn’t have to. It was our idea to use it for the Mercedes. We wanted to reward him.”

She hung her head.

“No one counted on him dying. Once he was gone, she ripped through all of it: their savings, her jewelry, the boat, the motor home, the cars, and his life insurance. It was just damn lucky that she couldn’t touch the boys’ educational funds. She gave me this cock-and-bull story about hiring a private detective and that’s where all the money went. For what she went through, she could have hired all of Pinkerton. It was so obvious, it was pathetic.”

Marge said, “Maybe she was trying to save face.”

“Or trying to get us to give her more money. We didn’t fall for it. All of our financial support went for the care of the boys. We bought them clothing, we bought them computers, we paid for their health care, and we paid for their tuition to private schools. Each Christmas they got a box filled with the latest toys. Melinda got a five-hundred-dollar gift certificate to Saks.”

“That’s not too shabby,” Marge said.

“Oh, but to her…she was seething, but what could she do? She couldn’t support them on her own. She needed us.”

“And after she remarried?”

“She dropped us like a hot potato.” More tears. “After all we did for her, she just cut us off. And she wasn’t much better to the boys. Lucky for us that they remained close…Jared did, anyway.”

“And Nick?”

“As I said before, I’d be happy to welcome Nick into the fold. Nick and Jared talk a lot. Jared always makes sure to tell me that Nick says hi.” She inhaled deeply and let it out. “You win some, you lose some. I’m closer to Jared than Melinda is…not that she cares much. Her true love is gambling. Mike is the best husband she’ll ever find because he funds her. What does he care? He has millions. You think he’d give anything to his stepsons?”

Oliver said, “He doesn’t share the wealth?”

Delia paused. “Actually, that’s not fair. It could be that he has offered and they’ve refused.” She wiped her eyes. “It’s still such a shame. She’s my only child. Of course, I love her. We love her. We’d love to have a relationship with her, but not if we have to be abused by her tantrums. I will no longer allow her to scream at us. I don’t want to hear a litany of everything we’ve done wrong.” She clasped her hands tightly. “God, I miss Ben. Please find out who did this.”