Mr. McGuire said, “That question is irrelevant to your investigation. Mrs. Nickens declines to answer.”
He pointed to the paper in my hand, so I moved to question two.
“Mrs. Nickens, what is your favorite television show?”
McGuire waited to see what Dolores would do. When she remained silent, he said, “My client will answer the question. Mrs. Nickens.”
Dolores said, “It’s hard to choose. I love pretty much everything that comes up on Masterpiece on the public television station. You know, like Victoria, and Sanditon, and—”
McGuire said, “Please stop, Mrs. Nickens.” He looked as though he wanted to cover her mouth with his hand.
“But you said I could answer.”
“I did, but this is key. Answer as economically as possible. The less you say, the less they can throw back at us later. Now try that answer again.”
Dolores thought for a moment, then said, “Masterpiece on the public television station.”
McGuire nodded his approval.
We continued to role-play until it was time to leave for the meeting. McGuire seemed satisfied with Dolores’s performance. I could have told him she was always a fast learner.
“I’ll be waiting for you by the front door of the Sheriff’s Department.” He snapped up the check for our coffees and his tea and stuck a few bills under his saucer for the server. “Take your time. By the look of things, it will be a long session.”
A few minutes later Elton pulled the Escalade in front of the Sheriff’s Department, and, true to his word, the lawyer was waiting on the other side of the glass front door.
Dolores grabbed my hand. “Oh, Jess, now I am getting nervous.”
“No need. You’ll have Mr. McGuire guiding you the whole way. You’ll be fine. Come. I’ll walk in with you.”
“Do you ladies want me to wait right here?” Elton asked.
“No,” I said. “I have a feeling this is going to be a much longer wait than the last time you and I were here. You’d best park in the visitors’ lot, and if you need me, I will be in the lobby.”
Deputy Remington gave me a friendly wave, then changed over to fully professional as soon as I introduced Dolores and her attorney.
The deputy tapped a few keys on her computer, nodded to herself, and said, “Lieutenant Hall from the Investigative Division will be with you in a few moments. Please have a seat.”
Dolores clung to my arm and I could feel tension rising within her, so I whispered, “I have been thinking about root beer floats.”
“Carmody’s Ice Cream Parlor on the last day of finals,” Dolores said. “Do me a favor and call the house. Ask Lucinda to make sure we have plenty of root beer and plenty of ice cream. If not, tell her we will pick it up on the way home.”
A middle-aged man wearing navy blue slacks and a tweed jacket stopped at Deputy Remington’s station. She pointed to us.
As he walked our way I said, “You’ll be fine, Dolores.”
Francis McGuire stood and offered his hand. “Lieutenant Hall, may I present Mrs. Nickens and her friend Mrs. Fletcher, who’ll be waiting for us?”
“Just routine. Shouldn’t take long.” The lieutenant smiled at me as if to say, Don’t worry about your friend—I left my rubber hose at home.
I sat for a while, thumbing through an ancient issue of Newsweek. Every time I glanced at my watch it was barely five minutes later than the last time I’d looked. And then I thought of something useful I could do.
I approached Deputy Remington, who was busy studying a chart on her computer. When she looked up, I said, “I was wondering if you could help me with something.”
She gave me a friendly smile. “Of course. The restrooms are right off that alcove in the back of the lobby sitting room.”
“Thank you, but that wasn’t what I had in mind.” I tried to sound apologetic.
She dropped her smile. “Well, if it’s about the, er, death, you know I can’t . . .”
“Actually, it’s about the fish.”
That caught her short. “Fish?”
“Yes. I understand that the Department of Natural Resources took . . . I guess you would call it custody of the koi that populated the pond where Willis died. I am sure it would cheer Dolores—Mrs. Nickens, that is—to have the fish back. Is there any way you could find out when that might happen?”
The deputy looked at me long and hard, and then came to the conclusion that what I was asking was harmless enough. “Just give me a minute, Mrs. Fletcher.” She tapped away at the keyboard and scrolled through a couple of pages.
“Found ’em.” She enlarged a document and ran her finger across the screen. “No sickness, no internal objects on the X-rays, no poison. Looks like you’re in luck, ma’am. Those fish are clean, healthy, and scheduled to be returned to Mrs. Nickens’s home sometime tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Deputy. Dolores could use some good news, and you have provided it.”
Back in my seat I realized that, more important than telling Dolores that the colorful fish would soon be on their way home, I’d better remember to tell her about Available Options and Randall Carbonetti. She needed to be up to speed when we got to Marcus Holmes’s office, where, hopefully, she would begin learning about Willis’s business activities. If we were lucky, Mr. Holmes would be a shortcut so we wouldn’t have to read every single paper in the storage locker. I did want to get back to Cabot Cove again sometime before next winter’s first snow.
Chapter Twenty-five
I glanced at the cover of a copy of Time magazine sitting on the end table, only to see it was even older than the Newsweek I’d flipped through earlier. Someone had left a newspaper on a chair, and I tried that. The banner said it was today’s edition of the State. The paper was filled with world and local news, homegrown gossip, and plenty of advertisements. One full page from the governor’s office explained the dos and don’ts of hurricane preparation. Although hurricane season in South Carolina doesn’t start until June first, according to the governor, it is never too early to begin preparation. I scanned every page, and there was nothing about Willis Nickens’s death, and more important, not a word about his wife’s being a person of interest.
I became increasingly restless so I stood for a while, and then began pacing back and forth. Everyone who had been waiting in the lobby when I arrived was long gone, and a small number of new people had come in for either aid or information. I had reached the tapping-my-toe state of impatience when Elton came in and handed me a paper bag.
“Water, ma’am. Thought you might be feeling parched. Any word on Miss Dolores?”
I shook my head. “She and Francis McGuire were called inside immediately after we arrived. I didn’t expect us to be here this long.”
“It has been a while. I wish there was something we could do to make Miss Dolores feel better when she comes on out.”
“There is. I nearly forgot, Dolores wanted me to check with Lucinda to make sure we have plenty of root beer and ice cream at the house. She’s planning a root beer float party when we get home. Perfect end to a stressful day.”
“I can call Lucinda for you, ma’am. And we can stop for supplies if needed.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that. And while you are pitching in, I was wondering if you could help with something else. I know Dolores spoke to you and Marla Mae about cleaning the storage room file cabinets when it is convenient.”
“We are planning to get that done fairly soon.”
“Eventually Dolores will want the files and cabinets moved from the storage unit to somewhere at Manning Hall. Would you be able to hire a truck and find someone to help you move them? Naturally, Dolores would pay you both and cover all expenses.”
“My friend Quinton, who works with me at Success City, has a brother-in-law with a truck. We borrowed it once to move another driver’s family f
rom one house to another. I’m sure we could borrow it again. Quinton and I can easily move some cabinets for Miss Dolores. She only needs to call on us when she is ready.”
At that moment I heard my name being called from near the front desk. “Miz Fletcher. What are you doing here?”
I almost didn’t recognize Deputy Lascomb because he was dressed in baggy denim shorts and a baseball jersey that read zeke’s zombies. He noticed I was staring at his shirt and he pointed to the logo with both index fingers. “Cool, right? Sheriff says we are like the walking dead: We sneak up on the other team and whomp! They’re goners.”
“It certainly is a catchy name for a, I’m guessing, softball team.”
“Yes, ma’am. The season starts next week, and we have a preseason game against the fire department tonight. It’s a practice game for both teams but I can tell you now, we’re going for blood.” He glanced over at the desk. “Is Remington taking care of you?”
“Yes, she has been very helpful. In fact, she was able to find out that the koi are coming home tomorrow.”
“Well, that’s good news. I know you were worried about those poor little fish.” His tone was not quite mocking. “So I suppose you’ll be on your way, then.”
“Actually, no. I’m waiting for Mrs. Nickens. She is meeting with Lieutenant Hall.”
His entire demeanor changed from happy-go-lucky ballplayer to deputy on the case. He stiffened, gave a half wave, and rushed off into the inner sanctum.
“That was weird,” Elton said. “He made a complete one-eighty in a split second.”
“In a way, and I think it indicates that being called in to a meeting with Lieutenant Hall means Dolores is a serious suspect. It’s possible things are about to get a lot worse. Elton, can you wait here in case Dolores comes out? I don’t want her to be alone for even an instant, but I need to make a quick phone call.”
“Sure ’nuff. Happy to.”
I found a spot under a tree where I could have some privacy but still keep my eye on the front door in case Dolores and Elton came out.
Harry McGraw’s voice mail picked up immediately.
“Harry, it’s Jessica. Things are getting urgent here. I’m spending the day with Dolores, but if you have anything that you think can help her, please call me tonight.”
I was walking back to the building when Dolores came out, flanked by Elton and Francis McGuire. She looked flustered but not completely done in. As I got closer I heard McGuire say, “You were really a trouper in there, Mrs. Nickens. From my perspective you are a dream client, following my lead consistently.”
Dolores gave him a gracious smile. “I had an excellent coach. But I am inclined to wonder what happens next.”
“The next move is up to them.” McGuire shrugged. “Your job is to sit tight and wait to see if they call you in again. Just remember, you are not to talk to anyone from law enforcement, including the Sheriff’s Department and the County Solicitor’s Office. Call me if anyone from those offices tries to talk to you or if you have any questions.” He started to walk toward the parking lot, half turned, and said over his shoulder, “Oh, and for goodness’ sake, avoid the press at all costs.”
“The press?” Dolores looked baffled. “I never even thought of the newspapers or local television. I mean, our wedding was in the society news and Willis has been mentioned here and there for some business deal or charity work, but I can’t imagine being in the news for . . . this.”
I linked my arm through hers and tried to sound as positive as I could while we strolled to the car. “Don’t worry about the press. Mr. McGuire is clearly pleased with how today’s interview went. Perhaps this is the end of it.”
I didn’t believe a word that came out of my own mouth, but I thought it was imperative to keep Dolores feeling optimistic. “Now, why don’t we get into the Escalade and see what Lucinda has prepared for us to snack on while we head off to keep your appointment with Marcus Holmes?”
The law office waiting room looked like a library. The walls were covered with floor-to-ceiling oak bookshelves filled with dark-covered hardback books. Brown leather chairs and love seats were arranged neatly around a Persian rug. The only office fixtures were a corner desk and computer and Mr. Holmes’s fifty-something assistant. Her nameplate specified she was Elizabeth Duett, Executive Secretary, but she could easily have been a librarian.
In keeping with the room’s decor, Dolores and I spoke in hushed tones. “Jess, when we are finished with this meeting, I hope I am done with lawyers for a good long while.”
“Oh, I doubt that will be the case. You and Mr. Holmes will likely have a long relationship if Willis’s business activities were as complex as that storage room indicates, not to mention what we talked about in the car.”
Dolores raised a quizzical eyebrow, then realized what I meant. “Oh. Yes. I guess Mr. Holmes will be able to tell us exactly how many more business types like Mr. Carbonetti I’ll have to contend with. Willis really got around. I’d never even heard of Carbonetti or his company.”
“Dolores, I think that is exactly the point. There are thousands of companies that aren’t well-known to the general public.”
The secretary’s phone gave a short ring. She answered, and after a few seconds said, “Yes, sir.”
Elizabeth rose from her chair and said, “Mrs. Nickens, Mr. Holmes will see you now.”
When we both stood up, she looked uncertain. “Are you bringing your friend to meet with Mr. Holmes?”
“Definitely,” Dolores said. “I want Mrs. Fletcher with me.”
Marcus Holmes had perfected the rumpled look you would expect of a backwoods country lawyer, which made me think he was probably sharp as a tack.
After Dolores introduced me to him, Holmes led us to some forest green jacquard chairs arranged in a semicircle around a glass-topped coffee table.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Fletcher. I seem to recall that I’ve been told that Mrs. Nickens has an old and dear friend who is the very popular mystery writer J. B. Fletcher. Would I be right in assumin’ . . . ?” He let the end of his sentence hang in midair.
I smiled politely at his obvious attempt at flattery. “Guilty as charged, I must admit.”
“I’m afraid I don’t have much time for readin’, but I assure you my wife tells me your books are highly entertaining.” Then he looked at Elizabeth, who was still standing in the doorway. “Did you offer these fine ladies some refreshment?” He turned back to us. “Coffee? Sweet tea?”
When we both declined, Elizabeth closed the door and disappeared behind it.
Mr. Holmes tugged on the edge of his necktie. “Well then, I guess it is straight to business. But first off, Mrs. Nickens, I need to tell you how sorry I am at the loss of your dear husband and my good friend, Willis Nickens.”
Dolores murmured her thanks and said, “This has been an excruciating ordeal made worse by the fact that, so far as I know, Willis’s business interests are spread far and wide with no one taking care of them. I am really here for you to give me a crash course so I know what I have to take care of immediately and what can wait. I do recall signing a barrage of papers after our wedding, but I am not exactly sure which entities most of them covered.”
“I see. I really do understand your concern. My own position in this matter is truly quite awkward. Let me see how I can say this.” He rubbed his hands together in rapid motion, which reminded me of Pontius Pilate on a fateful day two thousand years ago.
It was clear there was a problem, but since Holmes was Willis’s attorney and had organized all the postwedding paper signing, I was not sure what he could possibly be hemming and hawing about.
He cleared his throat. “There is no other way to say this, Mrs. Nickens. As long as Sheriff Halvorson considers you a person of interest regarding your husband’s unfortunate death, I am not comfortable sharing any of his business in
formation with you.”
“Now just a minute, Mr. Holmes.” I was outraged. “You and I both know that as soon as they were married Willis Nickens signed over to Dolores partial ownership of at least some of his business interests and perhaps even full ownership of others.” That was a wild, but not unlikely, guess. “She is entitled to information regarding those companies.”
Holmes ran a finger around his shirt collar. Clearly he was a man who made pronouncements and expected them to be accepted.
“I wanted to sit down with you, Mrs. Nickens, so that we could have this conversation in person. I am sure that your tribulations with the sheriff’s office will be cleared up any day now. As soon as that happens you and I can review every piece of information I have regarding Willis’s businesses and his estate.”
“You can’t be serious.” I was about to start another rampage when Dolores spoke, quite calmly.
“As you wish. But rest assured, when that moment comes, and it will, my first act will be to replace you as attorney for all the Nickens holdings.” Dolores stood. “Good day, Mr. Holmes.”
I jumped to my feet and followed her out of his office, even as Holmes was spluttering, “Now hold on there, just a minute. No need to . . .”
And the rest of what he was saying was lost in the sound of Dolores’s slamming his office door.
Chapter Twenty-six
Dolores held her tongue until we got out of the building elevator. Then she looked at me and giggled. “Did you see the look on his face? The old fool. It never occurred to him that he isn’t in charge. He’s the lawyer. He forgot that Willis and I are the clients.”
“Kudos to you. He was completely stunned. I bet Mr. Holmes was hollering for Elizabeth to bring him some headache tablets before we pressed the elevator button.”
It was such a relief to me that Dolores had taken command of the situation forcefully. I was far less worried about how she would manage on her own than I was a day or so ago.
Killing in a Koi Pond Page 20