Third, we needed to devise a way to keep her connection with Abby strong, without allowing Clancy to impose on Dolores’s good nature. I was sure he thought Dolores would be a much softer touch than Willis ever was, and I didn’t want to see her relationship with Abby become contingent on Clancy’s getting a huge piece of the money pie.
After completing my stretches and taking a shower I decided to forgo my morning jog in favor of breakfast with whoever might show up in the dining room. Perhaps I could learn a thing or two.
I put on my black pencil skirt and a short-sleeved mauve blouse with tiny pearl buttons, sure it would be a comfortable outfit for whatever the day might bring. My feet could use a rest from the pumps I had been wearing almost nonstop, so I was glad I’d brought along a pair of black flats.
Clancy was in the dining room pouring a cup of coffee. “Marla Mae just brought out French toast and scrambled eggs a few minutes ago. She’ll be bringing sausage and bacon along in a minute or two.”
“Sounds like we have delicious choices this morning.” I poured my own coffee and a big glass of water.
“Lucinda is wasting her talents here. She could be a chef in any of the finest restaurants in South Carolina. I don’t believe she has ever prepared a meal that didn’t turn out perfect.”
“I’ll be happy to pass along that compliment to Lucinda for you, Mr. Clancy.” Marla Mae set a tray on the breakfront, lifted the top, and pointed. “Extra-crispy bacon to the right, less so to the left. The sausage has morsels of kale and apple. Lucinda has it special ground by Mr. Archer. His farm is up the road a ways, by the railroad museum. His sausage is worth the trip—you’ll see.”
She was nearly out of the room when she said, “Mrs. Fletcher, I forgot to say Elton called. He’s wondering what time he will be needed.”
I set my coffee and water on the dining table. “Hmm, I’m really not sure. Best for him to stay home until I talk to Dolores, and then I will let you know. Tell him I said to study. He’ll understand the message.”
“Studying is what that boy does best.” Marla Mae laughed and headed back to the kitchen.
I put a piece of French toast, a small serving of eggs, and one sausage on my plate. When I sat at the table, Clancy said, “Jessica, that will hardly keep you going until midmorning, never mind lunch.”
“After I’ve eaten this, perhaps I will want another bite or two,” I said. He didn’t know how hard I would have to exercise for every extra bite.
“Before you go home you will have to ask Lucinda to make you some shrimp and grits. Oh, and her—” Clancy stopped at the sound of high heels tapping across the foyer floor.
Dolores came in, gold bracelets jangling. Her cream-colored silk blouse and black skirt were perfectly tailored. As always she looked stunning, makeup perfect and every hair in place. “Good morning. How’s breakfast?”
Clancy hopped up and pulled out a chair. “Delicious. Why don’t you take a seat, and I will fix you a plate?”
Dolores sat down, thanked Clancy, and then said, “So, Jess, did you have a good night’s sleep?”
“I did indeed. I hope you did as well. Between dealing with grief and taking care of the myriad chores regarding Willis . . . rest is extremely important at a time like this,” I said.
“I agree. I’m barely out of bed, and I am worn to the nub already. We have lots to do today. Thank you, dear,” she said as Clancy set a plate down in front of her. “French toast! My favorite. Lucinda is such a gem.”
“I was just saying the very same thing to Jessica,” Clancy chimed in, and when neither of us responded he tried two or three more conversation starters, but Dolores ate in silence and I followed her lead.
Eventually he drained his coffee cup and said, “Well, if you’ll excuse me, ladies, I’ll see if Abby is awake yet.”
As soon as we could hear Clancy walking up the stairs, Dolores whispered, “Have you seen Norman yet this morning?”
I shook my head. “Only Clancy.”
Marla Mae came in and began to clear the table, and Dolores repeated her question in her normal voice.
“Earlier, Mr. Crayfield went for a walk. I don’t know that he came back yet.” Marla Mae stacked the dirty dishes in a basin.
“Thank you,” Dolores said. “Please close the door on your way out.”
As soon as the door snapped shut, Dolores leaned closer and lowered her voice once again. “Today, Jessica, you and I are going to ransack Willis’s office. I am determined to find out everything about all of his business arrangements—and I mean all. Norman keeps fawning over me, but I am sure that’s because he knows he is stuck with me, at least for now. I don’t trust him to have my best interest at heart. He’s all about himself.”
I tried to phrase my words carefully. “Dolores, I agree that Norman Crayfield is not your best ally, but at the moment I think discovering exactly what happened to Willis is more important than finding out every nuance of his finances. Until we hear from the sheriff or the coroner you need to be more concerned about cause of death than your inheritance.”
“Please, Jess, humor me.” Dolores pulled a key from her pocket and stood. “Let’s go through Willis’s office and get the search behind us. Once I know what’s what, I promise to hound the entire government of South Carolina if that is what it takes to find out how Willis died.”
I hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
When Dolores opened the door Marla Mae was waiting in the foyer. “Miss Dolores, might I clean up the dining room now?”
“That will be fine.” Dolores took a few steps and then stopped. “Marla Mae, Jessica and I are going to spend the morning in Willis’s office. We do not want to be interrupted for any reason. Is that clear?”
“Very clear, ma’am. Will that be all?”
“Yes, thank you.” Dolores stood in front of the door to Willis’s office. She took a deep breath, raised her chin, and threw her shoulders back. With one hand on the ornamental brass doorknob she inserted a key into the lock below it. Click.
She was barely in the room when she involuntarily took a step backward. “Until we came in to lock the windows and doors the other day, I had never been in this room without Willis being present. It feels unnatural to be here.”
Dolores inched her way to the leather desk chair where Willis had been sitting the day I arrived. She touched the headrest lovingly, and then grasped one of the chair arms as if holding Willis’s hand.
After a while she turned to me. “Ready, Jess?”
“Of course. What would you like me to do?” I was ready to help in any way that would make Dolores feel satisfied.
“Let’s start by opening the drapes and letting the sunshine brighten up this place. And then we’ll get down to work.” She flipped open the laptop sitting in the middle of the desk and hit the power button. “Do me a favor and open the French doors. The air in here is a little stale.”
I pulled the drapes wide open, and sunlight flooded the room. I cracked the doors a few inches, and the scent of jasmine from the vines clinging to the outside wall swept the mustiness from the room. I was eager to discover any information this office held about Quartermaster Industries, but I waited for Dolores to start looking around in earnest so I could follow her lead.
I watched as she began to open the desk drawers. “Aww, Jess, look at this.” She held up a menu. “The Garden Eatery. It’s where Willis and I had lunch on our first date. And look—he wrote across the top: ‘Dolores 1pm.’ I had no idea he was such a romantic.”
Her tone quickly changed when she opened the bottom drawer. “That son of a gun. I repeatedly told him he was not to smoke his stinking cigars in the house. Look at this.”
She held up a large glass ashtray, and a decorative beige cigar box with bold white letters on a red background. ROMEO Y JULIETA.
“Well, you did say he was a romantic, and I guess th
at brand of cigars proves it,” I ventured.
Dolores shot me a look and then burst out laughing. “I guess you’re right. No point getting mad at a man who appreciates Romeo and Juliet.” She reached down into the drawer once again and came up with a spray can of air freshener. “And at least he tried to cover up his transgression.”
She hugged the can for a moment, and then said, “Okay, I’m good. Let’s get to work. I’ll take the computer. Would you do me a favor? Dig through the file drawers. Open whatever strikes your fancy and see what that mystery-writer nose of yours can sniff out.”
The drawers were made of heavy mahogany, with handles made of dull bronze. I needed two hands to pull the first one open. An outsized tab in front of the file folders was neatly labeled a–f, with smaller tabs identifying the folders arranged within. I moved along the row of drawers, and the large tab in the third one announced that it held folders in the range from “M” to “R,” exactly what I was looking for. I flipped through to the rear of the drawer and found the word quartermaster on the tab of a surprisingly thin folder. I tucked it under my arm and then began to read the names of the rest of the file folders, and my eyes went wide when I saw one labeled norman’s screwups. I pulled it out of the drawer and was surprised by how thick it was. Inside I saw dozens of photocopies of business contracts, letters, and invoices. Most of the paperwork had handwritten notes, which I guessed were written by Willis, and without exception, every note seemed to indicate a mistake Norman had made.
I was about to show the folder to Dolores when she gave a little squeal.
“Jess, am I reading this correctly?”
I bent over her shoulder, read the e-mail she was looking at, and asked, “Who is Marcus Holmes? Is he a lawyer or financial adviser of some sort?”
“He’s a lawyer and has represented Willis in everything from our purchase of this house to a lawsuit regarding a car accident Willis had a few years back. I don’t know if he handles business deals, but he is definitely Willis’s personal attorney.”
I nodded. “This e-mail is dated two weeks ago, and Willis specifically says that he wants to sit down with Mr. Holmes to review Abby’s trust with a view to making you sole trustee. We have to find out if this meeting took place. Perhaps Willis changed the terms of the trust.”
Dolores shook her head. “Seriously? I can’t believe he would do that without asking my permission, or at least telling me it was on his mind.”
I said as gently as I could, “You did say Willis was a charge-forward kind of man. And we both know he was quite sure you loved Abby as if she was your own.”
Dolores sighed. “True. Well, I’ll call Marcus this afternoon and ask about the trust. Actually I guess he and I have a lot of things to discuss.”
I certainly agreed. I was about to put the Norman folder on the desk for the two of us to examine when there was a knock on the door and Marla Mae called, “Miss Dolores?”
Exasperated, Dolores replied sharply, “Marla Mae, I told you we would be busy in here. No interruptions.”
“It’s Sheriff Halvorson, ma’am. He’s waiting on you.” Marla Mae put as much apology in her tone as she could.
Dolores popped out of the chair and clapped her hands. “Finally, Jess, finally. He’s come to tell me I can take Willis to Harrold Brothers and have him rest in peace. Oh, and I have to call Pastor Forde . . .”
“Ma’am? Are you coming to see the sheriff?” Now Marla Mae sounded nervous.
“Yes, yes, we are. Please tell the sheriff we will be right with him, and ask Lucinda to prepare a pot of tea and some scones, or cookies, whatever she has. You can bring it to the library in about ten minutes.”
As certain as Dolores felt that Sheriff Halvorson was here with good news, I was far less confident. If there was nothing troublesome about Willis’s death, wouldn’t the coroner simply release his body?
I slipped the two folders I was holding into the front of the first file drawer so I wouldn’t have to search for them again. We stepped into the foyer and Deputy Lascomb was standing by the front door. He wished us good day and said that the sheriff was in the library. Dolores clenched my arm, and we found the sheriff standing in the middle of the room. No more browsing through the books and pretending he was making a social call.
He pursed his lips and wagged his jaw from right to left. “Mrs. Fletcher, must you keep turning up? I asked to see Mrs. Nickens.”
“I know that, Sheriff, and it does worry me, but I merely have one simple question,” I said.
“Mrs. Fletcher, I am not inclined to answer any more of your questions. Please excuse us.” And he pointed to the door.
Dolores loosened her grasp on my arm. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine, Jess, really.”
I wish I had believed that was so.
Chapter Fourteen
I was frustrated beyond belief. I closed the library door behind me and saw Deputy Lascomb at his post by the front door. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I took a few steps in his direction and he acknowledged me at once.
“Mrs. Fletcher.” He touched two fingers to his eyebrow in a kind of salute, and then reached for the door to open it for me.
“Oh, no, I’m not going out—I just had a question . . .” I stopped directly in front of him.
“Questions and answers are above my pay grade, ma’am. I think I told you that before.” He stood straight and crossed his arms.
“Yes, you did, and I respect your loyalty to the sheriff. But my question isn’t about the case.” I hoped for any sort of hint in his response.
“Well, as long as it’s not about the case, I suppose we can talk a bit.” He uncrossed his arms and loosened his stance.
But I already had some of what I needed. By referring to it as a case, the deputy confirmed that there was an ongoing investigation into the death of Willis Nickens. Now the sheriff was behind closed doors with Dolores, which sent a surge of anxiety coursing through me. I knew that could not bode well for her.
Still, I continued a polite conversation. “I was wondering about the fish.”
“The fish, ma’am?” He seemed puzzled.
“I stopped by the pond yesterday and it is quite empty. I was wondering what happened to all those beautiful koi that were in it before . . . before Willis’s unfortunate . . . accident.”
My use of the word “accident” relaxed him completely.
“No need to worry. In a case like this, where we find a dead person in a small body of water, it is common practice to call the Department of Natural Resources. They scoop out the fish and quarantine them for some amount of time to make sure they are all healthy.”
I pressed my hand over my heart and gave him a warm smile. “That is a relief. Such beautiful creatures. I am glad they are being well cared for.”
“Yes, ma’am. I expect Sheriff Halvorson is explaining that all to Mrs. Nickens, if he hasn’t already done so. She needn’t worry about her fish one bit.”
And there it was, the opening that might help me wriggle a few morsels of information out of him.
“How thoughtful of you to realize how many things Mrs. Nickens has on her mind right now. I understand that Willis had business interests spread far and wide. I can’t imagine how Dolores will be able to deal with all that high finance.” I shook my head as if I was pondering an insoluble problem.
Deputy Lascomb cleared his throat. “Now, that’s a problem most people would love to have.”
“Oh yes, I’m sure. Tell me, has your office spoken to any of Willis’s business associates, lawyers, accountants, or the like?”
I could see he was deciding how, or if, he should answer. I pressed further in as casual a tone as I could muster. “It’s just that any contacts or information that your office gleans could be of great help to Dolores when she begins to wrestle with the family finances.”
My question must have sounded
innocent enough, because the deputy responded, “Sheriff Halvorson don’t think it’s necessary to look all around Mr. Nickens’s business, ma’am. He already has a focus, and he’s a man who locks down a focus pretty quick, if you get my meaning. Now I may have said too much, so I kindly ask you to move along before the sheriff comes out.”
“I understand.” I raised my voice slightly, in case the walls had ears. “Thank you for letting me know those beautiful fish are being taken care of.”
I started to walk back to Willis’s office. While I waited for the sheriff to finish talking to Dolores, I wanted to go through the Quartermaster folder in the hopes of discovering . . . well . . . anything I could.
My plan was derailed by Norman Crayfield, who was coming down the stairs. His well-pressed chinos and hot pink golf shirt were a step up from his attire of the past few days. I wondered if he was going somewhere. “Jessica, I’m so glad I ran into you. Follow me to the dining room. I got a text from Clancy. There are muffins straight from the oven, and I do believe it is time for a midmorning snack.”
“Oh, that sounds like a wonderful idea.” Sure as I was that Lucinda’s muffins would be scrumptious, it was the thought of an opportunity to speak informally to Clancy and Norman that truly whetted my appetite.
Clancy waved us into the room with a knife in his hand, and went back to slathering butter on a muffin. “Oat bran with almonds and raspberries. There is quite an assortment here. I am not sure how Lucinda does it, but I am so grateful that she does. There’s both iced and hot tea on the sideboard. Take your pick.”
I looked around. “Where is your sweet daughter this morning?”
Clancy had just taken a bite of muffin. I waited for him to swallow and wipe his mouth with a napkin. “She’s in the kitchen learning how to make corn bread. Honestly, Lucinda and Marla Mae spoil her rotten. The day we arrived Lucinda made chocolate pudding from scratch because it’s Abby’s favorite.”
Perfect. A time for adult conversation. I poured myself a cup of tea and sat at the opposite side of the table from the two men. As soon as I saw blueberries among the muffins on the plate, I took one. If they were anything like Lucinda’s blueberry scones, I was in for a treat. My first bite confirmed that I had made an excellent choice.
Killing in a Koi Pond Page 11