One Good Deed(101)



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 I have to.”

It seemed to Archer that the placid, refined lady was now firmly down in the dirt with the rest of them.

After Archer took his leave, he ran into Amy in the hall.

“How was your coffee, Mr. Archer?” she said anxiously.

“You make a nice cup of joe. You’ll do a husband proud.”

She smiled. “Is there anything else I can do for you? I’d be happy to.”

“Well, seeing as how Mrs. Pittleman has sort of confiscated the automobile I drove here in, she said somebody could run me back to town.”

“Oh, I can ask Manuel to take you in one of the trucks.”

“That’d be great. Thanks.”

He gave her a warm smile and she rushed off to accomplish this.

He once more watched her go and thought to himself, Women are gonna be the death of you, Archer. Fighting a war was a damn sight safer.

She came back a minute later and told him that Manuel would bring the truck around shortly.

“Thank you, Amy. Hey, I wonder if you could help me with something else.”

“I’ll sure try, Mr. Archer.”

“You know Jackie Tuttle?”

“Yes sir, I mean, I know who she is.”

“When was the last time she was here?”

“I think it was when she came to tell the missus about poor Mr. Pittleman. I think you were with her. I didn’t see you, but I heard about the visit from Agnes.”

“You sure she wasn’t here more recently than that?”

“Not that I know of.”

“How about an Ernestine Crabtree? You know her?”

“No, sir, I don’t know nobody by that name.”

“Okay, thanks.”

The truck pulled up to the front with Manuel driving. He honked the horn, and Archer went out and climbed into the cab with him. They set off back to town.

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