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 that 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
