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think it was more of the same.”
    “Sounds like you two remained friendly.”
    “Friendly?” said Corey. “Far as I’m concerned we broke up legally but not spiritually—oh, man, I need a drink.”
    Hurrying back to the kitchen he removed a half-full bottle of Bombay Sapphire from a cupboard, poured a couple of fingers into a juice glass, swigged half at the counter. Pouring enough gin to refill and then some, he plopped back down on the couch. Liquid splashed on one knee. He wet a finger with the gin and licked.
    Milo said, “You and Mrs. Corey—”
    “Never Mrs.,
Ms
., Ursula was all about independence. She’s bright, capable, a great mom—what the hell am I going to tell the girls?”
    “It’s never easy but we can guide you, if you’d like.”
    “I would,” said Corey, slumping and covering his face with his hands. “I am
lost
.”
    “Soon enough, sir, but I do need to ask questions.”
    Corey looked up. “Sure, yeah, I get it, this is business for you. Fine. What can I tell you?”
    “You and Ms. Corey have been divorced for three years but you don’t feel you broke up spiritually.”
    “I’m speaking metaphorically. From here.” Corey patted the polo player logo on his shirt. “There was a special bond between us. I never stopped loving Ursula and I believe she never stopped loving me. It’s been that way since we met.”
    “Where’d you meet?”
    “Twenty-four years ago, business seminar in Scottsdale, bunch of Wall Street types offering the pathway to riches. Total bull, Ursula and I both realized it soon and bonded over skepticism. Once we learned about each other’s backgrounds and talents, we decided to explore starting a business. The other stuff came later.”
    I said, “The personal stuff.”
    Corey nodded. “We’re not Buffett but we built a great business. And yes, it got personal pretty soon. Like half a year in.”
    He gazed out at the water.
    Milo said, “What were your backgrounds?”
    “I’d worked in garment wholesaling. My training’s in accounting.” His shoulders dropped. “Basically high-level bean-counting but no company I ever worked with wasn’t profitable. Ursula had a degree from the London School of Economics—she’s English, lived all around the world but mostly in Asia, her father was a military attaché in a bunch of different places. When I met her, she’d never run a business but she was creative and understood about the Asian submarket here in the U.S. We made a fantastic team.”
    “What do you do?”
    Corey’s face crumpled. “Without Ursula, I don’t know what’s going to happen … can we do anything?”
    Milo waited.
    Corey said, “What was the question?”
    “Your business—”
    “We import consumer goods, mostly from Vietnam and Thailand. Ursula handpicks everything, I’ve never been to Asia, Ursula’s been there probably fifty, sixty times, she’s the inside person, spots bargains that we then sell to retailers—who the fuck would
do
this to my
girl
!”
    Emptying his glass of gin, he began to rise.
    Milo stepped forward and blocked his way. “If you don’t mind, sir, we’d prefer to talk to you without any more alcohol in your system.”
    Corey looked at him, chastened. “I’m able to maintain.”
    “I’m sure you are, sir—”
    “Fine. You’re doing your job, I don’t envy you.” Corey sank back. “What else do you want to know?”
    “Please don’t be offended, sir, but I need to ask. Where were you between nine a.m. and noon today?”
    “I was here doing paperwork.”
    “Did anyone see you?”
    “Did anyone—you’re kidding. No, I guess you’re not. Okay, I get it, I’ve seen those crime shows, the husband is always the first suspect, I get it, no offense. Unfortunately I don’t have any sort of alibi. Which I would have if I’d planned to do something criminal, right? I mean, the last thing I thought I’d need when I woke up this morning was an alibi. Like I said, Ursula called me around eight,