“Why, yes. I believe Francis McGuire is the very man. He is bright and confident and will protect Mrs. Nickens fiercely. It was nice to speak to you, Mrs. Fletcher. I only wish it was under better circumstances. Please hold on, and my assistant will provide you with the attorney McGuire’s contact information. And, er, please give Dolores my warmest regards.”
Click. I was on hold once more.
The assistant was quick, and I hoped accurate. I wrote down the contact information for Mr. McGuire, and then cajoled Dolores to come with me to the kitchen. She fumbled with the key until she got the door locked. I hoped a snack and a few minutes of quiet time would calm her nerves.
Lucinda was bent over a cookbook while Marla Mae was folding table linens. Both stopped and stood at attention when they saw Dolores.
“I was wondering if Dolores and I could sit at that picnic table outside the back door and share some tea and whatever sandwiches might be available.” I looked directly at Lucinda, sure that she would know exactly what would best suit Dolores.
Lucinda met the challenge. “As a matter of fact, I just put a pitcher of sweet tea in the refrigerator. Miss Dolores, would you prefer a prosciutto and asparagus finger sandwich or a blue cheese and walnut? Shall I make two of each?”
Dolores nodded and smiled her thanks. We walked through to the backyard and sat at the picnic table.
Dolores said, “Great idea, Jess. I don’t know why I never come out here. I know Willis considered this to be part of the servants’ quarters, and I guess I went along. But look around. How wonderful it is to watch the birds sail from tree to tree on a sunny day. The world doesn’t look quite so bad from here, does it?”
“No, it doesn’t. Just stay resilient, and I’m sure that you will get through this. In fact, I promise.”
Lucinda brought out a tray of sandwiches and fruit, followed by Marla Mae carrying a pitcher of sweet tea and some glasses filled with ice.
As they were arranging the table, I asked them to stay for a moment. “Dolores wants you to know that the next few days likely will be filled with commotion, and there will be lots of disruption to the daily schedules. I know you two can handle anything that is thrown your way, but it is important that you prepare yourselves. It is probable that the sheriff’s office will want to interview you at some point. At a time like this it would be usual for guests like Norman and Clancy to go to their respective homes, but for now it’s almost certainly best that everything stay as it was the night Willis . . . died.” I decided not to use the word “murder” just yet.
Lucinda took a step closer to Dolores. “Miss Dolores, Marla Mae and I have talked about this. Not gossip, mind you. Just sort of planning for the future. We know there might be hard times ahead. We see the sheriff coming back and forth . . . We hear rumors. Well, ma’am, we are on your team. Just tell us what to do, even what to say, and we’ll be happy to do it or say it.”
I saw the tears begin to form in Dolores’s eyes, and before she could get all weepy again I became businesslike. “That is so nice of you both. Just tell the truth, and all will be fine. In the meantime, Marla Mae, if you could, call Elton and ask him to come over. Tell him that beginning today we would like him to come each morning and stay for the entire day in case we need to go somewhere in a hurry.”
Dolores started to object, but I cut her off. “You know that you are in no condition to drive.”
I turned back to Marla Mae. “Tell Elton to bring along his study materials, and he can set up in the library and do his schoolwork when he is not driving. As a bonus I am sure Lucinda will bake a treat or two should he get hungry.”
Marla Mae grinned. “You are offering Elton the use of a library along with Lucinda’s baked goods. I can tell you that boy will be happy as a hog in a wallow.”
I smiled uncertainly until Dolores said, “Jess, down here that means he’ll be really, really happy.”
We sat enjoying our surroundings and sipping sweet tea. I took a bite of a blue cheese and walnut sandwich on what tasted like homemade sourdough bread. I encouraged Dolores to eat something. After she finished half of a prosciutto and asparagus sandwich, I felt that she had settled down enough for us to have a serious conversation.
I poured some more tea in each of our glasses.
“Dolores, I don’t want to pry, and under normal circumstances it would be none of my business, but . . .” I hesitated.
Dolores looked at me expectantly, ready for whatever I might bring up, so I plunged ahead.
“I believe that you and Willis once had a misunderstanding so egregious that you locked yourself in your room for more than a day. I am sure the sheriff will want to know the cause of the argument and how it was finally resolved. I thought perhaps you wouldn’t mind telling me about it before you have to tell the sheriff.”
“Oh, that.” Dolores discarded it with a backward flap of her hand. “It was such a major fight at the time. I think it was twice as difficult because we had been a couple a remarkably long while without having a serious disagreement.”
Dolores leaned back in her chair. “I know what everyone thinks of Willis—his bluster, his ego, and his need to win, all traits that could turn people off completely. But he needed all that exterior crustiness to feel in control of his life. I think the death of his first
