Миранда Джеймс - Fixing To Die

An’gel wished the medium would get to the point. She really wanted to hear what the woman would say. She almost felt like speaking up but knew that the lieutenant would not appreciate it.

“Please, go on,” Steinberg said after the pause had stretched out uncomfortably long.

“Mr. Gamble died peacefully. His spirit was a bit confused, of course, with the sudden transition. You see, they are often like this, especially when they aren’t expecting it.” Mrs. Pace shook her head dolefully. “And so often no one is there to encourage them on their way.”

“How exactly do you encourage them on their way?” Steinberg asked.

“I tell them that they have to accept the fact that they have passed on,” Mrs. Pace replied. “Few souls are ready to accept that right away, you must understand. Most don’t want to leave the earthly plane and their loved ones. It’s even harder for them if they have a message they want to give their loved ones.” She shook her head again in the same doleful manner. “It’s truly tragic for some of them, and their loved ones are often desperate for some last word.

“Then once they have begun to accept that they are no longer part of the mortal world,” Mrs. Pace continued, “I tell them to look toward the light. Some see it more quickly than others. Some embrace it gladly. Others have to be encouraged to do it.”

“Do any of them ever refuse?” Dickce asked.

An’gel frowned at her sister but she was as curious as Dickce, she admitted to herself, to hear the medium’s answer.

“Yes,” Mrs. Pace replied. “They hang on, refusing to believe that they are dead. They can cause terrible mischief sometimes in their anger and denial. Like the spirit in this house. She is one who refuses to move on. Something has bound her here, but I haven’t been able to figure out yet what it is.”

“There’s a spirit here?” Steinberg asked, his expression still bland. “Where is it now?”

Mrs. Pace shrugged. “She’s hidden herself for the moment. I doubt she is happy that there are so many strange persons in her house.”

“Let’s get back to Mr. Gamble for the moment,” Steinberg said. “You assisted his spirit. Did his spirit go willingly?”

“Not at first,” Mrs. Pace said. “He needed coaxing, but once he understood that he had died and could not go back, he seemed eager to embrace the light.”

“That’s good, I guess.” For the first time Steinberg’s facade slipped, and An’gel thought he was losing patience with the medium. “Now, exactly where were you when all this communicating was taking place, ma’am?”

“In the room with his corporeal self, naturally,” Mrs. Pace said. “I would have thought that was obvious. The spirit usually remains quite close to its former shell until it is ready to move on, or the body is removed from where the person died.”

An’gel could tell that the lieutenant wasn’t happy to find out that Mrs. Pace had been in the room. Even if Nathan Gamble’s death had been completely natural, An’gel thought, Mrs. Pace had no business being in there. She wasn’t a member of the family, and she had no official standing as a medical or legal person.

“Mrs. Pace, I’d like you to come with me for some further questions,” Steinberg said. “Mr. Catlin, is there another room we can use for a little while?”

Henry Howard nodded. “Sure, the front parlor across the hall, or the library. It’s the room next to the parlor. Either one.”

“Thank you,” Steinberg said. “We’ll use the parlor. Mrs. Pace, if you please.”

The medium inclined her head and moved in a stately fashion toward the door. Steinberg saw her out, then turned to address everyone. “For now, I have no further questions for you, but those of you who are guests, I’d like you to give your home addresses and contact information to my men here in case I need to talk to you further. Miz Foster, I would like to talk to you, however, so if you don’t mind waiting.” He stated the last as an order, not a request, An’gel thought.

• • •

Serenity Foster didn’t offer any objections, though she immediately ducked her head toward her lawyer and began speaking in a lowered tone to him.

Steinberg left the dining room door open, and the young officer who had been watching them earlier stepped forward, pad and pen to the ready. “I need to get the information the lieutenant wants. Mr. and Mrs. Catlin, we have yours, of course. Miss Ducote, ma’am, if you wouldn’t mind.”

While An’gel provided the necessary information for herself, Dickce, and Benjy, the latter returned with the older police officer, Peanut, and Endora.

Peanut woofed joyfully at the sight of An’gel and strained against his leash to get to her. Benjy held him back with a quiet command, however, until An’gel finished dictating to the young policeman.

He next took Marcelline’s information, and as soon as he finished, the housekeeper turned to Mary Turner. “Now, Miss Mary, I’m taking you upstairs, and you’re going to lie down for a while. And don’t you try to argue with me, missy.”

Mary Turner gave the housekeeper a wan smile. “I’m not going to, Marcelline. I need to be where it’s quiet for a while.” She turned to her husband. “How about you? Would you like to come with me?”

Henry Howard frowned. “No, you go ahead. I’d better stay here in case the police want anything else. I’ll be up to check on you later.” He gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

“All right,” Mary Turner said. She rose from her chair and followed Marcelline docilely from the room, allowing the housekeeper to put an arm around her as if she were unable to hold herself upright.

Henry Howard looked like he needed rest far more than Mary Turner did, An’gel thought. The circles around his eyes seemed darker, and he moved stiffly. She realized that he had never had much chance to have breakfast.

“You need to eat something,” she told him. “You come with me. I’m going to take you to the kitchen, and we’ll find something.” She turned to Peanut, who had put a paw on her leg. She fondled his head for a moment. “Yes, I’m glad to see you, too, you silly boy. But I need to take care of Henry Howard right now.”

Peanut woofed and withdrew his paw. An’gel always marveled at how the dog seemed to understand exactly what she told him. Endora, of course, always ignored her.

An’gel returned her attention to her host and saw him smiling at her. “I miss having a dog,” he said.

“Why don’t you and Mary Turner adopt one?” An’gel said. “Now, come along with me. Let’s get you fed.”

“We’ll stay here for now, Sister,” Dickce told her. An’gel knew Dickce would do her best to find out what was going on between Serenity and Wilbanks. They were still conferring and seemed not to notice what the others in the room were doing.

An’gel repeated her question to Henry Howard on the way down the hall, then added, “There are plenty of animals in shelters who need adopting, after all.”

“I know,” Henry Howard said. “But dogs need a lot of attention, and sometimes guests don’t respond to them well. We have to be really careful, you know. We can’t afford to get sued just because some crazy person can’t handle a dog or a cat anywhere in the house.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” An’gel said. “That’s a shame, though.”

“Yes, it is,” Henry Howard replied. “But that’s the way it is. The house always comes first, basically, because it’s our livelihood.” He walked into the kitchen and went straight to the small table near the back door.

Before An’gel could look for food for Henry Howard, Marcelline came storming in. She walked straight over to Henry Howard, ignoring An’gel.