The Accidental Florist

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

    Jane 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, Jane took 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. I 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.
    He turned the