A Little Yuletide Murder by Jessica Fletcher Page A

building on Main Street, owned by Beth and Peter Mullin, who operated Olde Tyme Floral, a lovely flower shop on the first floor. They were delighted to rent to the young, handsome attorney looking for a place in which to establish a law practice.
    I chatted with them in their shop before heading up a short flight of stairs to the second floor. The door to Joe’s office was open. He sat behind a desk piled high with law books, and was reading one when I knocked. He glanced up. “Good morning, Jessica,” he said, getting up and coming to greet me.
    “Hope I’m not intruding on something important.”
    He said, “Not at all. Just writing a brief to present before the Supreme Court.” My face must have reflected I believed him because he laughed and said, “A commercial real estate deal I’m closing on this afternoon. Should have gone smoothly, but one of the parties has thrown a last-minute wrench into the works. Please, come in. Sit down. Coffee is made.”
    After I’d been served and he’d refilled his cup, he said, “Don’t tell me you’re having a copyright or plagiarism problem with one of your books.”
    “Goodness, no. I’ve been fortunate never to have had a legal problem in my career, and I want it to stay that way.”
    “Good thinking,” he said. “Get us lawyers involved and your problems really get complicated.”
    “Joe, I’m here on behalf of a friend, Mary Walther.”
    He frowned, obviously trying to connect with that name. When he did, he said, “Is she related to that farmer, Jake Walther?”
    “I would say so. She’s Jake’s wife.”
    “Poor woman.”
    I couldn’t help but smile. Even someone who’d been in town only a short period of time was aware of Jake Walther’s reputation.
    “Sheriff Metzger has arrested Jake and is charging him with the murder of Rory Brent.”
    Joe’s eyes went up, and he whistled softly. “Pretty fast work on the part of our crack sheriff,” he said.
    “Yes. Mort Metzger is a lot sharper than he sometimes lets on.”
    “I’m not surprised to hear it.”
    “What? That Mort is sharper than he—”
    “No, no, not surprised Walther’s been arrested for murder. To be perfectly honest with you, Jess, Jake Walther is a madman.”
    Now it was my turn to express surprise.
    “Yeah. I had a run-in with him right after arriving in Cabot Cove.”
    “You did? What led to it?”
    “I pulled out of the driveway next to the building one morning. I suppose I should have waited for the pickup truck to pass, but it looked to me like I had plenty of room. At any rate, I pulled into the street and stopped at the light. The pickup truck came flying around on the side of my car and then turned in front of me so that I was blocked. Jake Walther was driving that truck. He leaped out, came to my side of the car, raised his fist at me, and said I was an idiot—I won’t repeat all of the words he used because they were pretty foul—and said he’d kill me. I’ll never forget the look on his face, Jessica. His eyes were like burning coals, and his mouth was cruel. Yeah, his whole face was that of a crazy person.”
    “What an upsetting thing to go through,” I said. “What happened next?”
    “He got back in his truck and drove off. I sat there shaking when the light turned green. I’d never had anything like that happen to me before.”
    “How did you know it was Jake?”
    “There were two people standing on the comer who witnessed it. They came to the car and asked if I was all right. They told me who he was.”
    “What an unfortunate experience. Have you had any contact with him since?”
    “Are you kidding? Every time I see him in town I make it a point of walking in the other direction. He’s nuts, certifiably so.”
    I decided not to beat around the bush, and simply asked, “Would you be interested in representing him?”
    “Represent him? Me? Jake Walther? In a murder case? I’ve never handled a murder case before.”
    “I don’t think that’s as