“Exactly. Anyway, this broad, who you know as Candy Blomquist, was something of an expert until she finally got caught in Georgia about twenty years ago. Far as I can tell, she’s been either clean or careful ever since.”
“And her husband, Tom Blomquist?”
“So far, not so much as an outstanding parking ticket, but I’ll keep looking. Oh, and I’m sure it will be a comfort to your friend the widow Nickens to know that her husband had no record whatsoever.”
“That certainly will be a comfort, but it’s not the information that Dolores needs to know this very second. In your text you said that, well, Dolores will never have money problems again?”
“Yeah. I’m still working on the money angle, Jess, but it does look like Willis Nickens was loaded with a capital ‘L.’”
“And Quartermaster Industries? What have you learned about that?”
“I learned it exists and Willis Nickens owns it. But it’s a privately held company, and the kind of info that public companies make available to potential investors is not easily obtainable with a click or two on the Internet, so I am tracking as much as I can through some of my sources, both the legit ones and the not so legit.”
That was a bit of a jolt. “But, Harry, you said Willis had no criminal record, so why would you need to check with your less-than-legitimate friends?”
“Jess, you’re a smart lady. You must know that crooks and con men understand more about high finance than your average bank manager. They need creative ways to hide their money, and most times the straight business guys are all too willing to help. Anyway, there’s no harm in asking around.”
“I do see your point, although I always worry that you will get yourself into some sort of trouble.”
“Goes with the territory, Jess, goes with the territory. And what about you? How are things at your end?”
“More than a little hectic, I’m afraid. I did find a Quartermaster folder in Willis’s file cabinet but haven’t had a chance to go through it. Maybe I’ll get some answers there. My major concern is that, though it took a while, now the sheriff has announced that Willis was murdered—”
Harry broke in. “I don’t know why he ever doubted you, Jessica Fletcher, Girl Detective. Once you decided it was murder, the sheriff should have just said, ‘Of course it was murder,’ and got on board.”
I could practically see him grinning right through the phone.
I said, “If only, Harry. The worst part is that he has named Dolores as a person of interest. The fact that anyone, anyone at all, would think she could ever harm her husband has driven Dolores to deeper and deeper lows. I am having trouble keeping her on track.”
“Don’t worry, Jess. In a couple more days, we will have this all worked out. I just have to do a little more digging.”
“Seriously, Harry, I know you are the best in the business but I didn’t expect that you would find out so much so soon.”
“It’s gonna cost you. You’ll have to spend a weekend in Boston so we can visit the opera and have dinner at Il Cibo. Angelo will never forgive me if I don’t produce you soon.”
I thought that was a price I’d certainly enjoy paying, and I told Harry so. “Of course, I also want to spend some time at Gilhooley’s. I haven’t seen Cookie in ages. If you run into him, please give him my regards.”
“As it happens, I got a guy on the hook for a game of eight ball tonight, and Cookie will be serving the poor sucker the beer he’ll be crying in.”
“Oh, Harry, are you so sure your challenger will lose?”
“Jess, he’s playing against me. Obviously he’ll lose.” Harry chuckled and clicked off the phone.
I left my room to go back to Dolores and met Marla Mae coming up the stairs. “Miss Dolores was wondering where you got to. She sent me to fetch you, tell you she is waiting in Mr. Willis’s office. Something about a lawyer.”
Francis McGuire. I checked that I had his phone number in my cell and went downstairs.
Dolores was sitting in the leather chair behind Willis’s desk. “Funny, this chair always seemed so big to me, larger than life, but I guess that was because Willis was sitting in it. Now it’s just a perfectly normal desk chair.”
I knew exactly what she meant. The significance of so many things, so many places, completely changed after my husband, Frank, died.
I closed the door and sat down opposite her at the desk. “Before we call Mr. McGuire, is there anything you want to talk over with me, perhaps to get your thoughts straight?”
Dolores looked pensive for a few moments, and then shook her head. “I can’t imagine anything I would need to tell the lawyer other than that I loved my husband, someone killed him, and no matter what Sheriff Halvorson thinks, it wasn’t me.”
“Then we are ready.” I reached for the desk phone. “Once I have the lawyer on the line I’ll put the call on speaker.” Remembering how long it took to get through to Marcus Holmes, I cautioned Dolores, “It may take a while for me to get Mr. McGuire on the phone. We may even have to wait for a callback, but either way, we need to be prepared for the next time we hear from the sheriff.”
The receptionist had a crisp no-nonsense persona. When I told her I was calling Mr. McGuire on behalf of Dolores Nickens, she immediately asked, “Is Ms. Nickens presently being detained by law enforcement?”
“No, she is not. I hope it won’t come to that.”
“In that case, may I ask your relationship to Ms. Nickens and the purpose of your call to Mr. McGuire? Is Ms. Nickens incapacitated in some way?”
I was beginning to understand her screening process. “My name is Jessica Fletcher. My dear friend Dolores Nickens
