“And what about her parents?” I wondered out loud. “How is your relationship with them?”
Her excitement dropped a few levels. “Oh, that is a very sad situation. Abby’s mother was Willis’s only child, his daughter, Emily. She died from an aggressive brain tumor a few years ago. Very sudden. Very swift.”
A worried note crept into her voice. “Emily’s widower, Clancy Travers, has sole custody of Abby, of course, but he doesn’t have Willis’s resources . . .” She hesitated and then went on. “I sometimes think Willis’s generosity is the only thing that keeps Clancy bringing Abby around to visit. It’s . . . it’s almost as if Willis is buying access to his only granddaughter.”
“Well, however the access is granted, don’t you think it’s important for the child to have a relationship with her grandfather? Not to have one would be the real sadness,” I said.
“I guess you’re right.” Dolores stopped to let a car pass before she made a left turn. “In any event, I can’t wait for you to meet my new family. Would you mind opening the glove box and taking out the black and silver clicker?”
As I retrieved the clicker, Dolores made a sharp turn and stopped in front of an iron gate anchored by two decorative stone columns, replicas of ancient Roman pillars.
“Give the red button a push,” Dolores said.
I did, and the two doors of the gate slid quietly apart.
The driveway curved immediately to the left. After a few yards, we turned to the right and Dolores idled the engine. “Manning Hall. Isn’t it something?”
A quarter of a mile or so in front of us, a broad three-story brick house surrounded by a sandstone veranda rose majestically in a clearing bordered by trees flowering with pink and purple bonnets.
“It is indeed. And the trees! What are they?”
“Crepe myrtle. They are very common in South Carolina. I’m glad they bloomed a little early this year so you could see them. And we have a lovely sitting garden with lots of benches, and each section of plants is set off by those large white river rocks that sunshine seems to brighten over time. I know you enjoy a nice garden.”
I smiled. “Yes, I do like to putter in my garden at home. Of course, in Maine we don’t have as much gardening time as you do down here.”
“That’s true, I’m sure.” Dolores switched back to talking about Manning Hall. “Willis said that the moment he saw the house, he knew he wanted it to be our home. So he made an offer on the house and asked me to marry him all on the same day. That’s the kind of man he is. Some would say brash, but I think he’s a hardworking go-getter. That’s how he has managed to be so successful in business and in life.”
Dolores accelerated slowly and again came to a full stop. “Let’s get out here. I want to show you my one contribution to the landscape.”
As I opened the car door, I heard small splashes.
Dolores hurried around the front of the car to show me a square pond edged by broad timber beams and surrounded by low-lying bushes. “This is my koi pond. All the gardens on the property are so formal and still. I wanted something happy, lively.”
We stood side by side and watched dozens of multicolored fish swim around, sometimes circling one another, sometimes going off on their own. One chubby orange-striped koi stopped midpond and seemed to stare at us for a few seconds before continuing on its way.
“Why, this is lovely, Dolores. What made you think of it?”
“When Willis bought the property, the driveway was way over there.” She waved her arm vaguely to the left. “He thought that a driveway coming from this angle would be, I don’t know, more attractive and would enhance the value of the property. I always wanted some sort of fishpond, and since they were digging up this whole area anyway . . . I met with the landscape architect and he advised a koi pond. Willis agreed, and here are my sweet beauties. Just watching them gives me such a peaceful feeling.”
The fish were mesmerizing. I had to agree that watching them was extremely relaxing.
After a few moments Dolores said, “We’ll have plenty of time for quiet contemplation by the koi pond over the next few days. And as you can see, the sitting garden is right along here, leading from the pond to Manning Hall. But now let’s get you up to the house and settled in your room.”
That sounded perfect to me.
We drove the short distance to Manning Hall, and before Dolores finished parking the car, the wood-and-glass French doors of the house opened and a slim young woman wearing light blue jeans and an oversized pink T-shirt bounced down the front steps to greet us.
Dolores popped the trunk. “Marla Mae, this is my dear friend Jessica Fletcher, who’ll be staying with us for a while. Would you please see to her luggage?”
Marla Mae gave me a big, toothy grin. “Welcome to Manning Hall, Miss Jessica. So nice to see Miss Dolores entertaining a longtime friend.” Then she hoisted my suitcase and travel bag and started up the steps to the house.
I went to reach for the travel bag, but Dolores put her hand on my arm. “It’s fine. It’s her job.”
We entered an extremely formal foyer. The inlaid marble floor gleamed and the walls were covered with lush brocade. To our left was a wide staircase.
Marla Mae said, “Mr. Willis is in his office. Do you want me to tell him you’re home?”
“That won’t be necessary. Please take the luggage up to the bedroom at the far end of the hall. Jessica and I will surprise him.” Dolores took my arm and led me to a door on the right side of the foyer, a few feet past the bottom of the staircase. She gave a
