"When did he die?"
"A year ago."
"His death was ruled an accident?" I asked, making notes on a notepad in front of me.
"Yes."
"How did your grandfather pass away, if I may ask?"
"He was found dead in his pool."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
The young lady nodded. She reminded me of myself. Short, petite, curvy, dark hair. And unless she drank blood and hung out with other creatures of the night, that's where the resemblance ended. Her name was Tara Thurman. I seemed to have heard her name from somewhere, although I couldn't place it now.
"Where did your grandfather live?" I asked.
"On an island."
"An island?"
"Yes."
"Catalina?" I asked, which was really the only habitable island off the coast of southern California.
"No. It's in Washington State."
"I didn't know there were islands in Washington."