Killing in a Koi Pond

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