Миранда Джеймс - Fixing To Die

“Tell you what,” An’gel said before Mary Turner could respond. “Instead of standing out here in the hall, why don’t we all go back downstairs to the parlor, where we can sit down and be comfortable. Then we’ll explain.” She pulled her door shut and headed around Mary Turner and Benjy to the stairs.

They all followed her into the parlor. Dickce and An’gel chose one sofa while Mary Turner and Benjy took the other. Now that they were seated comfortably, An’gel looked at Mary Turner. “Do you want to explain, or shall I?”

“You go ahead,” Mary Turner said. “You’ll do it more succinctly than I will because I usually get annoyed over the stupidity of it all and start digressing.”

An’gel nodded. “Very well.” She proceeded to give Benjy a précis of the story of fourth great-grandfather Turner and his young sister. When she’d finished, she rested against the back of the sofa and waited to hear what Benjy might say.

“This cousin of yours reminds me a little of my stepfather’s mother.” He glanced at An’gel and Dickce. “She was a friend of Miss Dickce’s and Miss An’gel’s. Anyway, she had an obsession, too, so I kinda know what you mean when you say your cousin is obsessed with the room.”

“He’s talking about our friend Rosabelle Sultan,” Dickce explained. “You might have heard your grandmother talking about her. They knew each other at one time.”

“Vaguely,” Mary Turner said. “What was her obsession, Benjy?”

“Herself,” he responded promptly. “I found out later, after reading about it in a psychology book, that she was a narcissist. Do you know what that means?”

Mary Turner nodded. “Yes, I do. Nathan is somewhat like that. He’s really only concerned about himself and his bank account.”

“Even if it is an obsession, and maybe he can’t help himself,” Benjy said, “the whole thing seems useless to me. Why would anyone in that family think the stuff in that room really belongs to them after all this time?”

“That’s what comes from nursing a grudge, generation after generation,” An’gel said. “I agree the whole thing is pointless on Nathan Gamble’s part. But that doesn’t mean people still don’t feel that way. Dickce and I know two families in Athena that haven’t spoken to each other if they can help it for over sixty years.”

“I don’t get it,” Benjy said, “but I don’t have to.” He turned to his hostess. “Does he know about the weird things that happen in that room?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Mary Turner said. “I’ve certainly never told him, and I don’t intend to.” She glanced quickly at An’gel and Dickce. “I’d rather no one else did either. Let him experience it for himself.” She shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe nothing at all will happen while he’s in the room. He has little imagination that I’ve ever seen, so he probably won’t even notice if something gets moved.”

An’gel felt that Mary Turner was wrong not to tell her cousin but she figured it would do no good to argue with her about it. “Very well,” she said. “We won’t say anything, but I think you should be prepared for the backlash if anything does happen and he is injured, for example.”

“I really don’t think anything serious is going to happen,” Mary Turner said. “Nothing really terrible has happened so far, after all. It’s been annoying and occasionally creepy, but neither Henry Howard nor I has been physically hurt.”

“That’s reassuring to hear,” An’gel said. “Until we know what or who is behind all this, however, we can’t take it for granted that no one will be hurt. It depends on the motive, I think. If the person responsible doesn’t get what he or she wants, then the incidents could escalate.”

“Now you’re making it sound like one of those horror movies where the family moves into a house and starts getting attacked.” Dickce shivered.

“I’m sorry if I frightened you, Sister,” An’gel said, more irritated with Dickce than she cared to show. “The point is still valid. I don’t think this is a house of horrors, but what’s going on here isn’t normal. Now, Mary Turner, there’s a question I’ve been wanting to ask you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Mary Turner said. “What is it?”

“Do you know whether there is a secret room or a hidden passageway in the house?” An’gel asked.

“Like in that Nancy Drew book?” Mary Turner asked. “I loved that book. My grandmother gave me her copy when I was nine years old.” She shook her head. “No, there isn’t that I know of. Daddy never said anything about one, and neither did Granny. I tried to find one after I read that book, but I never found anything.”

“I see. It would certainly go a ways toward helping explain things if there were,” An’gel said. “I’m not convinced there is one, mind you, but we have to keep our minds open to all possibilities.”

“Naturally,” Dickce said. “Does this mean you want to continue going through the house looking for those spatial oddities of yours?”

“We might as well,” An’gel replied. “We need to observe everything we can about the house, and everyone in it as well. The answer could be anywhere. Anyone.”

An’gel thought she heard the stairs creak a couple of times. She wondered who was going up or down. Where was that medium, for example?

“Have you seen Mrs. Pace recently?” An’gel directed her question to Mary Turner.

“No, as far as I know, she is still upstairs in her room. I had just come back from showing Serenity and Truss to their rooms when I startled Benjy in the hall. I was actually on my way to see you, Miss An’gel and Miss Dickce, to talk to you about dinner tonight. I’d forgotten all about that in the excitement.” She winked at Benjy, who reddened a little.

“We’ll be happy to go out to dinner,” An’gel said. “We don’t want to place any additional burden on Marcelline or you. I imagine Marcelline was looking forward to a little time off herself.”

“That’s kind of you,” Mary Turner said, “but Marcelline has already put a roast on for dinner, and there’s enough for all of us.” She paused a moment. “Not for the other guests, though. I don’t intend to feed them anything other than breakfast.”

“I smelled the roast when I came in through the kitchen,” Benjy said. “Smelled great. I vote for eating here, if that’s okay.”

Dickce laughed. “Of course it’s okay. As long as Marcelline has already cooked for us, I vote we stay here, too. We can help clean up in the kitchen afterwards.”

“Yes,” An’gel said. “That’s a good idea.”

“I’ll tell Marcelline,” Mary Turner said. “She might take you up on that, but don’t be surprised if she doesn’t. That kitchen is her domain.” She grinned as she rose from the sofa. “If there’s nothing else you need to ask me right now, I’d better go and talk to her about breakfast for the next few days and a few other things.”

“Go right ahead,” An’gel said. “If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know.”

Mary Turner nodded and smiled at them before she left the room.

“What shall we do now?” Dickce asked.

“For the moment, y’all can sit right here,” An’gel said. “I’m going up to my room to retrieve my phone before we do anything else. I’ll be back in a minute.”

An’gel left Dickce and Benjy chatting about his room in the annex. She paused at the foot of the stairs and steeled herself for the potential aura of cold but felt nothing when she climbed the stairs other than her own exertions.

She found her cell phone right away and was about to head downstairs again when she decided she might as well use the bathroom before she did so. She walked past the doorway to Dickce’s room and tapped on the bathroom door. The bathroom, which she was having to share with both her sister and Nathan Gamble, was between Dickce’s room and the French room. Hearing no response from within, she opened the door and entered.