a coquettish smile before saying, “Yes, Mrs. Pittleman?”
“A coffee for Mr. Archer.”
“Yes, ma’am. Right away. Do you take anything with your coffee, Mr. Archer?”
“Just a cup,” he quipped.
Amy giggled, caught herself under the stern eye of Marjorie, and quickly retreated.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Archer?” she said impatiently.
“I was wondering if you’d seen Jackie lately?”
“Not since she was last here with you I haven’t.”
So that meant she hadn’t been by to pay the woman the money owed to her.
“Okay. I suppose you heard about her father?”
“I did indeed. First Hank and now Lucas Tuttle. I don’t know what Poca City is coming to. It’s like a crime wave one associates with the likes of Al Capone and his ilk.”
“Yes, ma’am. Do you happen to know a woman by the name of Ernestine Crabtree?”
Marjorie creased her brow. “Ernestine, what again?”
“Crabtree.”
“I knew a Wanda Crabtree ages ago. But that was when I was a little girl, and that was nowhere near here.”
“By the way, what brought you to Poca City?”
“Hank did.” She let out a sigh. “I hated it when we first got here. There was nothing to this place. But I have to admit, Hank was right. He kept working at it, and people came. After the war things really picked up. He made a fortune. One that he will no longer enjoy, unfortunately.”
He decided to throw out a remark and see what her response would be. “Well, even though I know things are complicated between you two, you still have Jackie as a friend.”
She looked at him in a way that was both appraising and revealing, by degrees. “How well do you know Jackie Tuttle?”
“Not all that well, actually.”
The door opened, and Amy brought in Archer’s coffee and set it down on the table next to him.
“In a cup, just like you asked for, Mr. Archer,” she said with an impish grin.
“Now all my wishes have come true,” said Archer, grinning back.
“Thank you, Amy, that will be all,” said Marjorie firmly.
Amy gave her employer a little curtsy and beat a hasty retreat, shutting the door behind her, but not before giving Archer a flirty look.
Marjorie said, “Now, back to Jackie. She is very cunning; did you know that?”
Archer took a sip of his coffee. “I know she’s very smart.”
“Her mother died in a horrific accident. I knew Isabel fairly well.”
“What was she like?” Archer asked.
“She did not like living on a farm, for one. She and Lucas did not have a happy marriage. When Jackie came along, it didn’t help matters. It seemed to actually hurt them.”
“How so?”
“Isabel was fiercely protective of her marriage, and it seemed, at least sometimes, that she perceived Jackie as an interloper.”
“I thought they loved each other,” said Archer.
“Sometimes love can, well, warp someone.”
“Warp them how?”
“Now someone has killed Lucas Tuttle.”
“Hold on, what are you suggesting?” exclaimed Archer.
“I am suggesting that you don’t let your head be turned by every pretty face that happens by. Young men like yourself so often do.”
“Like Jackie’s, you mean?”
Marjorie said firmly, “Every pretty face. Now, why are you really here?”
“I can’t seem to find Jackie. And Ernestine Crabtree seems to have left town.”
“That is curious. Do you think it has anything to do with Lucas’s death?”
Archer thought for a moment about what Shaw had said when Jackie had viewed her father’s body.
Not a single tear shed.
“Jackie has her father’s property to take care of. I’m assuming she’s his sole heir.”
Marjorie shrugged. “I have no idea, but possibly. He had no one else.”
“So, it’s not like she can just up and leave.”
“She might have just gone for a drive. Perhaps on a visit to another town to clear her mind.”
“She couldn’t have. I drove Jackie’s Nash over here.”
This statement seemed to pique Marjorie’s interest. “Did you now? Hank let her ‘borrow’ that car, you know, so I would appreciate if you would leave it here.”
Archer’s face went slack. “Then how will I get back to town?”
“I can have someone run you in, Mr. Archer,” she said, smiling triumphantly. “Now finish your coffee. I have matters of importance to attend to.”
He drank down his coffee and rose. “What are your plans now, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“To make sure I keep my house and my dignity, or what’s left of it.” She paused. “Lucas Tuttle owed my late husband money. Five thousand plus interest. I expect to receive payment from his estate. If and when you see Jackie, you tell her that. I’ll take it to court if