"So where do you want to shop for something you'd like?"
"This is probably silly," Jane said, "but I noticed a florist shop across the street from the community center where we took those classes. The window was full of lovely arrangements."
"I noticed that, too. By the way, have you asked Mel if Miss Welbourne left any notes for the last session?"
Jane made a head-slapping motion. "I'm sorry. I simply forgot about that what with so many other things going on. Willard, the room addition, Addie's visit, and working on my next book. I'll ask him the next time I hear from him. I promise."
Mel called Jane that evening, apologizing for not being in touch for the last few days. "This Welbourne case is driving me nuts."
"What's happening?"
"Nothing. I've wired the authorities in Perth, Australia. There is a house there owned by the people we're looking for. But nobody is there. Only a neighbor lady who comes in daily to feed the cat, clean the litter box, and give the cat a fresh bowl of water. The neighbor is mad. She's never heard from them since they left. She hasn't had a postcard, letter, or phone call saying when they'd be home. She's doing this for free and doesn't even like the people or the cat."
"You left a message with someone, I assume?"
After a moment of irritated silence, Mel said, "Of course I did."
"Sorry. I've had a few bad days as well. But before I tell you about them, I'd promised Shelley I'd ask you a favor," Jane said.
"What kind of favor?" he snapped.
"Mel, remember that we're engaged," she said as sweetly as she could.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to be so rude, Janey. I'll be happy to do Shelley a favor if I can. What is it?"
"She's curious about the missing lesson we were to take about safety. If you found the notes she'd prepared for that meeting, we'd like to see what we missed. Unless, of course, they are some kind of evidence."
"I do have some notes. They're sort of haphazard, and
seemingly not related to the murder. I have to keep them, anyway, but I could fax you a copy. Now, what's happened in the last few days to you?"
"Thelma Jeffry apparently had a small stroke and called me to berate me for not sending her invitations to both weddings. She was already slurring her words. Then when I started to reply, I heard a crashing noise and had to call Ted and 911 on my fax machine. She must have had a second stroke, worse than the first. She's still unconscious in a hospital and Ted wanted help choosing a nursing home. Shelley and I went along with him. I guess for a woman's take on where she'd want to be if she ever wakes up."
Mel said, "I should say I'm sorry about this, but I'm not. I've met her a few times and found her intolerable."
"That's the general consensus,"Jane replied.
"Did she leave a will?" Mel asked.
"I haven't had the nerve yet to ask Ted. I assume her third of the profits will be used for the expensive nursing home. But she did have wills in mind recently. She might have left her third portion of the profits of the pharmacy chain to her church. Which wouldn't be fair to Ted. He should inherit her third when she eventually dies."
"That's going to be tricky, isn't it?"
"There's time enough to ask Ted later. Ted is the head of the accounting department and also does Thelma's books and balances her checkbook. If she'd recently written a big check to an attorney to make a new will, he'd know about it. It's really none of my business."
"Janey, at least she's unlikely to come to either wedding to make a scene."
"True," Jane admitted. "Come see your office progress this evening if you can get away."
"I'd be glad to. I'm at a dead stop on this case right now. Maybe a nice evening will encourage me enough to try something new."
Chapter
SIXTEEN
J
ane had made her favorite summer pasta salad. Little elbow pasta cooked in chicken broth, white chicken meat cut into small squares and browned slightly. Then minced onions, finely sliced celery, mayo mixed with a hint of nutmeg and a mere breath of curry powder. Nobody had ever guessed there was curry powder in it, but everyone asked what the mystery ingredient was that made it so special. With this she served toasted rounds of bread with Brie spread on it. And a good beer or lemonade depending on who wanted what.
Mel always chose a cold Coors. The real Coors, not the Light Coors. Todd chose the lemonade. And ate most of the toast and Brie.
When he'd returned to his room' and computer, Janetook Mel through the dining room and opened the door to his own office. It wasn't an office quite yet. But most of the main parts were done. Some of the studs already had insulation installed. The tiny bathroom had a sink and toilet, ready to install but no door or flooring yet. All but one of the windows were in place, the one which had arrived damaged and was on back order. The empty space was sealed with plastic sheets to keep birds, bugs, and dirt out.
Mel was impressed. "This might be done by the time we're married."
"That's what Mr. Edgeworth expects. He's here almost every day. I hear the general contractor groan quietly every time he shows up. Mel, I've been thinking about this case you're on with Miss Welbourne's death. 1 have an idea."
"What is it?" he asked eagerly.
"Involve the journalists here and in Australia." "How?"
"You should be able to get copies of their passport photos from the passport part of the government if you explain why you need them."
Mel laughed. "Just like that? I ask nicely? And they give me what I want? Jane, have you ever dealt with a federal government agency?"
"Not really. Just the IRS."
"Okay, Janey, suppose I can get a copy of their passports? What then?"
"You pay to have the pictures reproduced in something like the Sunday magazine supplement to the New York
Times. People all over the country take that. And there must be the equivalent sort of paper in Australia." "So how do they respond to the ad?"
Jane said, "Oh, I hadn't thought about that. What about a 1-800-something number."
"And pay thousands of people to answer the phones twenty-four hours a day? And deal with the loonies who think there's something in it for them to pretend they know something? `I saw a couple that looked like that last week in a bar in Denver,' or `I once met a couple in La Jolla that looked just like them two years ago. I think their names were something like Well-something,' Or even nut cases who want to pretend they are one of them."
"Okay, it was an idea. You said you'd hit a brick wall of sorts trying to find them. This could be the way."
She knew she hadn't planned this out well enough before presenting it. And it wouldn't be done. She really wanted to help him though. It was fine for his brilliant assistant to find out the whole history of Australian Welbournes, but it hadn't resulted in anything.
She should have stayed out of it.
But Mel was aimlessly thinking about Jane's suggestion when he arrived at his office the next morning. Maybe some variation of Jane's idea might work. Find a few rabid go-getter journalists in America and Australia to print the pictures and take it from there. If he'd even mentioned
the police budget covering dozens, if not more, people to answer phones, he'd be drummed out of his job.