Free The Undertaker's Widow by Phillip Margolin Page B

top of her secretarial school class, she was attractive and friendly and she always received excellent efficiency ratings. Strangely, the jobs did not come. The interviewers were always enthusiastic and she left the interviews with high expectations, but her phone did not ring.
    At first, she convinced herself that the companies had lost her number and she called them to see if a decision had been made. Most of the time, the person who had interviewed her would not take her call. A secretary would tell Fargo that the job had been given to someone else. On the few occasions that someone important did talk to her, they seemed embarrassed. It was only during the call that she had made two hours before to Durham Food Products that she found out why she was being turned down for job after job. Mr. Pebbles, the man with whom she’d had such a positive interview, sounded uncomfortable when they spoke. Toward the end of their short conversation, he told her sympathetically that he would have hired her if her reference from Hoyt Industries hadn’t been so negative. When Fargo asked the man what he meant, Pebbles told her that he had said too much. He wished her luck and hung up.
    Fargo was too numb to think straight. Then she remembered that all of the jobs for which she had applied required references. When she figured out that someone at Hoyt Industries was blackballing her, she became frightened, then she became angry. Fargo haddriven to her old company to confront Mr. Wilhelm, but the security guard would not let her into the building. On the ride home, Fargo grew scared. What if she could not find a job? How would she live? She had broken down halfway home and she was still crying when she opened the front door of her small, rented Cape Cod.
    Fargo had not bothered to raise her shades that morning and her front room was thick with shadows. She turned on a floor lamp. It took her a moment to realize that a man was sitting in the armchair near the window. Fargo took a step backward. The light from the lamp did not reach all the way to the armchair and she could just make out the man’s profile.
    â€œThere’s no need to be afraid, Miss Fargo,” the man said quietly. “I’m a friend, and I think you need one.”
    Fargo reached behind her for the doorknob, but she made no move to open the front door.
    â€œWho … who are you?” she asked anxiously.
    â€œSomeone who wants to help you. Are you upset because you’ve been turned down for another job?”
    Fargo let go of the doorknob. “How did you know that?”
    â€œThat’s not important. What is important is that you know the identity of the person who has been stopping you from getting a job. She’s the same person who made certain that you were fired from Hoyt Industries.
    â€œMiss Fargo, there are people who are concerned about you. People who don’t think that it’s fair that Ellen Crease used her power to have you fired and is using her power to keep you from finding work. These people want to secure a job for you. A good job that will pay you the salary you deserve.”
    â€œWhy would these people do that for me?”
    â€œThey’re the same people who believe that Ellen Crease is responsible for the murder of Lamar Hoyt. They want to see justice done.”
    The man stopped talking to let Fargo absorb what he had said.
    â€œWhat … what do you want from me?” she asked.
    â€œThere is almost enough evidence for the district attorney to indict Ellen Crease. The one thing that is missing is a powerful motive. Crease was well taken care of by Lamar Hoyt, she had her own career and everyone says that she loved Hoyt and he loved her.”
    â€œThat’s not true,” Fargo interjected.
    â€œWhat isn’t true?”
    â€œLamar didn’t love her. He loved me.”
    â€œWe know that, Miss Fargo, but the authorities don’t. If you give that information to