Then I heard a female voice in the hallway behind the large man.
“Todd, let him in.”
He turned while keeping the door mostly closed. “You need to go rest, Sheila. You don’t need people showing up here all day long.”
“Don’t tell me what I need or don’t need. This is still my house.”
Sheila Tucker shooed her brother away and was standing at the door in front of me a second later. She had brown hair pulled back into a tight ponytail and wore a burgundy jogging outfit. Her face was red and puffy with little makeup, and her whole body kind of sagged. I’d seen the same hollowed-out eyes in my mother-in-law the past few days.
“You’ll have to forgive my brother. He’s being overly protective today.”
“As he should be, Mrs. Tucker. My deepest condolences.”
“Tell me your name again.”
“Alex Mahan. These are for you.”
She took the flowers. “Thank you. Please, come inside.”
She opened the door and allowed me into the spacious foyer. A grand winding staircase was off to my left. A study was to my immediate right. The inside of the house was even more impressive than the outside. The Tuckers had done very well for themselves. She set the vase of flowers on a long entry table that already held several other flower ensembles.
“Did I hear you say your father-in-law was recently killed?”
“Yes, ma’am. Just last week. We were on a trip to Mexico as a family when he was abducted and then later killed by local criminals.”
Sheila put her hand to her mouth. “Oh my . . . that’s terrible, Alex. I’m so sorry. Why are there such evil people in this world?”
“I don’t know. But we’re both experiencing the worst of it right now.”
“Yes, we are. I just . . . I can’t believe it. I don’t want to believe it.”
“I’m very sorry for your sudden loss, Mrs. Tucker.”
She dabbed her eyes with a wadded tissue she already had clutched in her right hand. “You said your father-in-law was friends with Ethan?”
“Yes, Joe Dobson. Did you know him?”
She shook her head. “No, I didn’t. How were they friends?”
“I’m honestly not sure. I actually drove up to Dallas from Austin today to see your husband about it when they told me the tragic news over at his office. That’s why I came here. Please forgive me for showing up uninvited. I didn’t know what else to do. I’m trying to sort out financial matters for my mother-in-law, who is grieving like you, and part of that involves figuring out if Joe and Ethan worked together on the startup funding for my company.”
“I’m sorry, Alex, I don’t know much about Ethan’s work. And I don’t recall him ever mentioning the name Joe Dobson.”
I pulled out my phone and showed her a photo. “This is Joe.”
“He doesn’t look familiar to me.”
“Did you ever hear Ethan talk about Illuminate? That’s the name of my company.”
Another shake of the head. “No, sorry.”
Someone hollered after Sheila from another room.
“Will you excuse me for just a moment?” she said to me.
“Of course.”
She disappeared down a long hallway. My shoulders dropped. So much for finding the connection between Joe and Ethan. What the hell should I do now? I took a few steps into the study. A wall of floor-to-ceiling mahogany shelves sat behind a large antique wooden desk. Two brown leather chairs were in front of the desk. The whole room dripped with rich luxury. I presumed this was Ethan’s home office. There was a laptop sitting on top of the desk with several stacks of paper next to it. The mahogany shelves were lined with various leather books, mementos, and framed photos. I stepped up closer to the shelves and began examining the pictures. There were dozens of Ethan with what looked like his family. Kids and grandkids at various stages of life. My heart hurt for this family who, like us, had just had their patriarch stolen from them.
I made my way across the mahogany shelves, getting a real feel for the life of Ethan Tucker, and then paused when I noticed a small framed photo of a college golf team. I leaned in closer. SMU Golf. Thirty-eight years ago. Twelve college-age young men stood side by side dressed in old-fashioned golf attire of red, blue, and white. Their names were listed on the bottom of the photo. I quickly found the name Ethan Tucker and spotted him in the photo. Then my eyes drifted two guys over to the left from him and suddenly locked in on another face. I recognized it immediately. My father-in-law. He was young, but it was definitely him. I knew those eyes so well. My face bunched up. That didn’t make sense. Joe did not go to SMU. He went to the University of North Texas.