As we slowly work through the fallout since my brother-in-law’s death late last year, I’m sharing a few updates.

The revised coroner’s report determined the cause of death as cardiovascular disease. JJ died alone from cardiac arrest on his bedroom floor, a grim and untimely death. The toxicology reports came back negative, with no indication of foul play. Sadly, he appeared morbidly obese in his recent DMV photo, and he’d taken up smoking cigars. Further, anyone living in squalid conditions like the ones we found in his apartment has a five-year survival rate.

According to NCBI: “Diogenes syndrome is a behavioral disorder characterized by domestic squalor, extreme self-neglect, hoarding, and lack of shame regarding one’s living condition. Patients may present due to a range of reasons. Recognizing these will allow for earlier management of this high-mortality condition.”

Sadly, he never got help, or more accurately, he didn’t realize he needed help. A healthy person would never choose to live this way.

If you’ve read prior posts, you’ll recall that his car disappeared one day after the coroner recovered JJ’s remains. You can catch up here and here. Mike reported the vehicle stolen, and while connecting with the Department of Motor Vehicles or DMV, someone unknown to us had begun transferring ownership of my brother-in-law’s car. We were shocked.

A week later, the sheriff found the car back at the apartment complex, located and identified the suspect, and arrested him for felony burglary, auto theft, and possession of a controlled substance. He told the arresting officer that JJ was like an uncle and had given him the car for his birthday.

The car bounced back and forth between suspect, tow lot, back to suspect, and again back to the tow lot before the sheriff gave us the go-ahead to claim the car, which we did. They emphasized that the vehicle would remain “stolen” in the records until the DMV could finish investigating. We drove home with the car on a Friday and arranged to have it locked in a garage ten days later.

The car sitting in our driveway that week, especially with Mike traveling on business, made me nervous. One night, I saw a car slow in front of our driveway, adding to my fear and dread.

I wasn’t imagining things.

A few weeks later, I stepped onto our deck to get the mail, turned around, and saw three police cruisers pull up and block our driveway. At first, I thought something had happened at a neighbor’s home. Then I thought someone had died. Badly shaken, I approached the officer, and he said that he had a report of a stolen vehicle in our driveway. I explained the circumstances, and he promptly dismissed one of the squad cars, but the other two remained. We spoke to them at length. They understood the delays at the DMV but also said the car would remain stolen in the system until the DMV completed the investigation. It took me several days to shake off the trauma.

Mike promptly contacted the DMV for an update, only to find that they canceled the investigation for “lack of evidence” without bothering to let us know. With the help of Mike’s “leg work,” they reopened the investigation. Now we wait.

It’s good I committed to a sugar-free January, or I would be heading to See’s Candies for a pound of good chocolate. We all desperately want this chapter to end.