Page 145 of Ozzie

Durango and I both nod.

“They know the drill,” the second agent says. “By the way, I’m Faron. McClure told me you two work for Reed Hawthorne. I know Austin, and he speaks highly of all of you.”

“Wait, you know Moose?”

Faron grins. “Yeah, we met when he was in the service. Small world, isn’t it? This is Dexter.”

Dexter nods at us, and we nod back.

“And you know McClure. He’ll be in the main room.” Then he touches his earpiece. “They are on their way in. It’s show time,” Faron says through his microphone.

I watch on the screen as McClure sits down at the desk in the main entrance area and appears focused on a computer screen.

A bell dings as we see John’s parents and John walk into the office.

McClure stands up. “Hello, can I help you?”

Tom steps forward. “We have an appointment.”

McClure smiles. “You must be John Williams.” He reaches out to shake his hand.

“No, that’s my son here.” Tom pushes John forward.

John shakes McClure’s hand.

“Please, have a seat,” McClure motions to the two chairs. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize there would be three of you. Let me get a third chair.” McClure grabs one from nearby and places it next to the other two.

“You are here to pick up a claim for…” McClure opens a folder on the desk and pretends to read the paper. “Piper Moreau, is that right?”

“Yes,” John says. He pulls an envelope out of his pocket. “Here is the certified death certificate you requested.”

McClure removes the paper and unfolds it. “Yes, thank you.” He reads through it. Then sets it down and folds his hands on his desk. “I’m so sorry for your loss. It looks like you two were newlyweds when she passed.”

John somehow manages to appear sad. “Yes, we were. We hadn’t even had a chance to go on our honeymoon yet.”

McClure shakes his head. “Such a shame. I have to ask. The paperwork you filled out online stated your wife died of carbon monoxide poisoning.”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

McClure winces as if uncomfortable to ask the next question. “Was her death a suicide?”

“Does it matter?” Patsy asks.

“It does, actually,” McClure says.

“No, it wasn’t. It was a horrible accident,” John says, then sniffles. That asshole is fake crying? “The furnace was faulty. She was home alone. They say she fell asleep and never woke up.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” McClure says, playing the role well. “That must have been horrible for you to find.”

John doesn’t respond because we all know he wasn’t the one to “find” her.

McClure slides a paper over to John. “I need you to fill this out with your bank information so we know where to wire the payment to.”

Tom takes the paper from John. “I can handle this.”

McClure leans back. “I’m curious. What made you twodecide to get life insurance so quickly after your marriage?” He glances at the file again. “It looks like it was purchased three weeks ago. That was before you were married.”

“I bought it for them,” Tom says. “As a wedding gift.”

---