Miss Julia Delivers the Goods by Ann B. Ross

she’s really through with him. Or, who knows, he might have his back up so much that he’s through with her. He could turn you down flat.”
    “I don’t think so, Julia. Pickens’ll do the right thing. All he needs is to know that the right thing is called for.”
    “Maybe so, but I don’t want to risk it. He’s just as liable to run amok as not. So I think you should leave Hazel Marie out of the conversation entirely. Just tell him that you need him to look into the break-in at your house. Hire him, Sam. Sign a contract or whatever you do when you put a private investigator to work. He won’t turn you down, he thinks too much of you. And,” I went on, getting into my story, “even if nothing’s missing at your house, make up something that you need him to look for. Anything will do, just so there’s some urgency about finding it and, of course, finding out who did the breaking and entering. Offer a reward if you have to. I just think that if you put it to him that this is a purely business proposition, he’s more likely to respond. And once he’s here, why, then we’ll just see what happens. But you have to impress on him that you need him right away. Time is of the essence, you know.”
    Sam stared off into the distance, which ended at the opposite wall of the living room, until I had to give him a little nudge with my elbow. “Sam?”
    “I’m thinking, Julia,” he said, “and, as it happens, I don’t have to make up something. It’s looking more and more like a few things are missing.” He sighed and brushed his hand over his thick white hair that so distinguished him. “Of course, I haven’t completely brought order out of all the chaos, but there were some papers that I was specifically looking for. And, so far, I haven’t found them.”
    “Oh, surely you will, though. I don’t know how you could find anything in all that mess, but we stayed at it long enough last night.” It had been close to midnight the evening before when we’d gotten home from his house, having left everything but his papers in a semblance of order. “To say nothing of the work you did this morning. Do you want to go back over there now? Just tell me what you’re looking for, and I’ll help you find it.”
    He shook his head. “No, I’m pretty sure those papers are gone. I had them in a special folder, a red one that I used specifically for them. It would be easy to find if it was there. The only thing I know to do is go back to the courthouse tomorrow and start recopying.”
    “That’s too bad, but at least they’re not irretrievably gone.”
    “No, it just means some lost time, repeating what I’ve already done.”
    “Well,” I said, patting his hand, “you have plenty of that, so it’ll work out.”
    He smiled. “Yep, time’s what I do have, but it’ll be tedious. What I found was in several different files and cases, which I’m not sure anybody has ever put together before, or seen the connections. The same two names run consistently through them all.”
    “Two people?” I sat up straight and looked at him. “Then that’s who broke in. Who are they?”
    “Well, that’s just it. They’re both dead.”
    “Oh, Sam,” I said, grabbing his arm, “a mystery! It’s a perfect case for Mr. Pickens to investigate. You won’t have to make up a thing. You really do need him.”
     
     
     
     
    Later in the afternoon, I walked up the stairs to Hazel Marie’s room to visit the sick and ailing. I found her out of bed, sitting in one of the pink velvet slipper chairs beside the front window.
    Her door was open so I walked in. “How’re you feeling, Hazel Marie?”
    “All right, I guess,” she said. She smoothed her hand down the silk peignoir she was wearing, her eyes downcast. “At least, my appetite’s coming back a little.”
    “And you’re keeping everything down?” I sat across from her in the matching chair.
    She nodded. “So far, so good.” She turned away from me to look out the