Миранда Джеймс - Fixing To Die

An’gel did not wait to see or hear Serenity Foster’s reaction to her speech. She turned and walked out of the room and right into her sister, who had evidently been lingering in the hallway.

“That’s telling her, Sister.” Dickce’s eyes danced with mischief. “I get such a kick out of it when you go into terminator mode.”

“I wish you wouldn’t insist on using that ridiculous phrase,” An’gel said, still angry from her confrontation with Serenity. “Come upstairs with me. I need to be somewhere quiet for a little while, and we can talk about this mess in private.” She headed up the stairs.

She didn’t speak again until she was seated in the armchair in her bedroom. Dickce found a place on the old trunk at the foot of An’gel’s bed.

“Where are Benjy and the animals?” An’gel asked.

“They’ve gone back to their room,” Dickce said. “I suggested that Benjy go online and see what he can find out about our mysterious Mrs. Pace.”

An’gel nodded approvingly. “Excellent. That’s exactly what I wanted him to do. I want to know who—and what—that woman really is.”

“What if he doesn’t find any thing?” Dickce asked.

“That will prove she’s a fake,” An’gel said. “In that case, I would speak with Lieutenant Steinberg and ask him to investigate. It would be obvious the woman came here to defraud Mary Turner in some fashion, and surely he would look into that if Mary Turner complains to him. I can’t see why she wouldn’t.”

“I don’t know,” Dickce said. “She might be afraid of the publicity if the story gets out. It’s going to be bad enough when the press gets wind of Nathan Gamble’s death. I can see the headlines now. Ghost Frightens Man to Death . Haunted House Claims Innocent Victim . Death by Ghost .” She shook her head. “Mary Turner will be upset.”

“It will probably triple the reservations to stay here,” An’gel said wryly. “There are always thrill-seekers looking for haunted houses, you know.”

“Maybe, but I don’t think those are the kinds of guests she wants here, do you?”

“No,” An’gel said. “I wouldn’t want them either, frankly. But this is a business, and they have to have guests if they’re going to keep it running.”

“Speaking of running the business,” Dickce said, “I’m sure you’ve noticed that Henry Howard isn’t all that enthusiastic about it.”

“He’s not,” An’gel said. “He talked to me briefly just now when I took him to the kitchen for breakfast.” She relayed the conversation to Dickce and told her about Marcelline’s behavior.

“She seemed really fond of him the last time we were here,” Dickce said. “Do you think she’s actually turned against him? Or was it simply the stress talking?”

“The latter, I think, is more likely.” An’gel shrugged. “But the last time we saw them was a few years ago, and they hadn’t been married all that long. The three of them spend so much time together, it’s no wonder there are sore spots, I suppose.”

“Maybe when all this is cleared up and things get back to normal, whatever that may be,” Dickce said, “they will all feel happier with one another.”

“Maybe they will, Pollyanna.” An’gel gave a brief smile. “I would like for them to be happy. We both know what a huge responsibility an old house like this can be.”

“At least we’re in a better position financially to maintain ours,” Dickce said. “We don’t have to work the way they do.”

“True,” An’gel said. “We were incredibly lucky that our father was so astute in business, and we haven’t done too badly ourselves.”

“Chips off the old block.” Dickce smiled.

“Let’s get back to the business at hand,” An’gel said. “Namely, the unexplained death of Nathan Gamble. You heard what I said to his sister. What do you think?”

“Do I think she has a much stronger motive for getting rid of him than Mary Turner?” Dickce asked. “I do. If Serenity doesn’t inherit anything from her brother’s estate, though, her motive is pretty weak.”

“I’ve thought about that,” An’gel said. “Even if she doesn’t inherit directly, she might still benefit from his death.”

“How so?” Dickce asked.

“With her brother out of the way,” An’gel replied, “she might gain more control over her trust fund.”

“We don’t know the terms of the trust,” Dickce said. “It would be odd if her brother were the only trustee, don’t you think? There are usually at least two.”

“Yes,” An’gel said. “Good point. Still worth considering, though, if her brother’s death dissolves the trust.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Dickce said.

“And there’s another thing,” An’gel said. “This time about her lawyer. Remember what I told you I witnessed yesterday between him and Nathan Gamble?”

Dickce nodded. “Do you think their relationship could be the key?”

“Truss Wilbanks wouldn’t be the first angry lover to kill his ex.”

CHAPTER 21

Benjy walked Peanut and Endora again before he took them back to their room. He wanted to let Peanut play and tire himself out so he would nap while Benjy worked at the task Miss Dickce had set him. Endora needed to play, too, and she always loved chasing the much larger dog.

Once in their room, Benjy opened his laptop and connected to the wireless network. Peanut and Endora snoozed on the bed, and Benjy figured he probably had half an hour before they got restless again and demanded attention.

Benjy entered Primrose Pace in the search engine and waited for results. The wireless connection didn’t appear to be all that strong because it took longer than Benjy was used to for the results to appear. He groaned. If the connection didn’t get any faster than this, he would need twice as long to find anything.

He examined the hits on Primrose Pace . The first one, apparently a newspaper article, looked promising, and he clicked on it. The story focused on a kidnapping and murder that had taken place in Louisiana nearly two years ago. A teenager had been abducted, and after months of no results from law enforcement, a psychic had come forward with claims to know the whereabouts of the girl. The psychic was Primrose Pace. There was a photograph accompanying the article. Several law enforcement officers and one woman stood in a small clearing in the woods. They were all staring at a spot under one large tree where the earth had been disturbed. The picture had been shot at enough distance that the faces of the officers and the woman were not clear. Even though Benjy tried enlarging the photograph, he couldn’t distinguish enough of the woman’s features to identify her.

Benjy skimmed the article. Mrs. Pace’s claims had proven helpful, he read. Though the spot pictured in the photograph included with the article had not been a grave, officials did find the remains of the teenager less than half a mile from there. Benjy wondered what had disturbed the earth in the photograph. Probably an animal digging, he thought.

The next two links yielded similar results. No photograph with which he could positively identify Primrose Pace, but otherwise the stories were much like the first one. Mrs. Pace apparently did have some knack for finding areas where human remains had been left or buried, but she never was right about the exact spot, Benjy concluded. Still, it was an impressive feat in itself. The woman either had been involved in the murders, somehow had inside knowledge, or possessed real psychic abilities.

One of the articles contained a brief description of the medium, an attractive black woman in her mid-forties. The Primrose Pace at Cliffwood matched that description, but then so would many other women. Benjy hadn’t found anything so far that could positively identify the woman at Cliffwood as the Primrose Pace of the articles.