Миранда Джеймс - Fixing To Die

“This is putting you on the spot, really,” An’gel said, “but if you had to point the finger at either Serenity or Truss, which one would you point to?”

“That’s a hard question. My first instinct is to say Serenity, but that may be because I loathe her so much.” Mary Turner shrugged. “I actually sort of like Truss. He’s really not so bad, but he does love money. Could be either one of them, or they might have been in it together.”

“That’s an interesting thought,” An’gel said. “They were both angry with him certainly.”

“I didn’t realize Truss was angry with Nathan,” Mary Turner said. “Why do you say that?”

An’gel told her what she had seen, minus the vulgar language. Mary Turner looked stunned. “Miss An’gel, I’m so sorry you had to see that. How nasty.”

“It was unpleasant,” An’gel said, “but I’ve lived a long time, my dear. I’ve seen far worse.”

“Wait till I tell Henry Howard about this.” Mary Turner’s face clouded. “If he ever comes back, that is.” She pulled out her cell phone. “Still no response from him.”

“Don’t let yourself get worked up again, my dear,” An’gel said. “He’ll turn up soon, I’m sure. By now he will have walked off his frustrations and be on his way home.”

“Bound to,” Dickce said.

“I sure hope so.” Mary Turner started to rise. “I really should go talk to Marcelline. I was pretty rough with her.”

An’gel privately thought that a little rough talk would do Marcelline good. The housekeeper had been unpleasant to Henry Howard and shouldn’t be interfering in her employers’ marriage. She had behaved like a mother-in-law instead of a housekeeper.

“Don’t go just yet,” An’gel said. “I have something else I want to ask you about. It won’t take long, I promise.”

Mary Turner resumed her seat promptly, and An’gel guessed she wasn’t eager to confront Marcelline again.

“What is that?” Mary Turner asked.

“It’s about Primrose Pace,” An’gel said. “Did she tell you anything at all about her background? Give you any references?”

“References? No, she didn’t, but then I didn’t ask.” Mary Turner frowned. “I probably should have, shouldn’t I? I was so excited by the idea of having an experienced medium in the house, I guess I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“About her background,” An’gel said. “Did she tell you anything?”

“I did ask about that,” Mary Turner said. “She told me that she had been involved in solving several missing persons cases. She even pulled out a couple of newspaper clippings to show me. I didn’t take time to read every word, but it was pretty obvious she has some kind of ability with spirits.”

“What did she tell you about those cases?” Dickce asked. “Did she offer you any details besides what was in the clippings?”

“Let me think about that for a moment,” Mary Turner said.

An’gel and Dickce waited semi-patiently while Mary Turner thought. They were both curious about Primrose Pace, although at this point they couldn’t see a connection between her and Nathan Gamble that would give her a motive in his murder.

“She said she was from Louisiana,” Mary Turner said. “I remember that. Oh, and she also said she was in Natchez visiting a friend. She happened to be driving around looking at old houses, and when she drove into the driveway near the house, she started getting a strong feeling about it. She sat in her car for a few minutes and concentrated, and that’s when she realized there was a spirit here that wanted someone it could talk to.”

Given the stories about ghosts and antebellum homes and other places in Natchez, An’gel reckoned, Primrose Pace might have simply taken a chance that she could get a few nights’ stay and some free meals in turn for her so-called services at Cliffwood. If Mary Turner had looked blankly at her and told her there had never been any supernatural activity at Cliffwood, the medium could have made her excuses and been on her way. Instead, Mary Turner had basically welcomed her with open arms.

“This isn’t our business, and you can certainly tell us so without hurting our feelings,” An’gel said. “Did Mrs. Pace mention a fee for her services?”

Mary Turner said, “Heavens, Miss An’gel, I don’t mind you asking about that. I know Granny and Daddy trusted you and Miss Dickce, and I certainly do. Otherwise I wouldn’t have begged you to come and help. In addition to her stay here and her meals, Mrs. Pace asked for five hundred dollars for five days’ stay while she worked with the spirit.”

An’gel had no experience with psychics, but five hundred dollars, plus room and board, sounded pretty low to her for what some would consider professional services. She would ask Benjy to research how much psychics charged for their services. Primrose Pace’s request made her think the woman was more a scam artist than an actual psychic. She probably thought she could get away with it more easily if she didn’t ask for a large fee.

“Do you think I shouldn’t have let her stay?” Mary Turner asked. “From your expression, I’ll bet you’re thinking I made a mistake in doing so.”

“Perhaps,” An’gel said. “I’m skeptical, frankly, about Mrs. Pace and her psychic abilities. We asked Benjy to see what he could find about her online. She might be who she says she is and be a known psychic. She could also be a con artist who goes around looking for—” She cut herself off when she realized what she had been about to say.

“Looking for gullible victims. That’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it?” Mary Turner didn’t sound upset. “I know I’m a little too trusting sometimes, especially with people I don’t know. I take everyone at face value, and to me, Mrs. Pace seemed sincere.”

“I’m sorry,” An’gel said. “Yes, that’s what I was about to say, more or less. I would be happy were Mrs. Pace to prove me wrong. If there really is a spirit lingering here, and she can communicate with it and help it find peace, then all the better. The important thing to me and Sister, of course, is your happiness. If her being here makes you feel better, then Mrs. Pace’s services are worth the price.”

An’gel could tell by Dickce’s expression that she might have been laying it on a bit too thick, but she only wanted to reassure Mary Turner. The poor child had too much on her plate as it was, without An’gel and Dickce worrying her over Mrs. Pace’s bona fides.

Mary Turner appeared to accept her words at face value, An’gel was relieved to see. She would be more careful in what she said about Mrs. Pace in front of Mary Turner from now on, until she had proof positive the woman was a fake.

An’gel heard a bell tinkle somewhere in the room, and the sound startled her. Mary Turner, however, appeared delighted. She pulled out her phone and examined it eagerly.

“It’s Henry Howard,” she said as she jumped up from her seat on the trunk. “He’s home, and he’s downstairs.” Then her face clouded over. “He says Lieutenant Steinberg is on his way here, and he thinks it’s bad news of some kind.”

CHAPTER 23

“We’d better go downstairs and find out what this is all about,” An’gel said.

Mary Turner was already halfway out the door. An’gel and Dickce moved more slowly. They reached the foot of the stairs in time to see Mary Turner dart into the library. Inside they found her with Henry Howard.

An’gel and Dickce held back discreetly while Henry Howard finished apologizing to Mary Turner for upsetting her. After the apology appeared to be done, they entered the room and joined the couple, who stood, arms around each other, by one of the windows.

An’gel thought Henry Howard looked better than when she had last seen him earlier in the day. Evidently he had at least managed to eat. He confirmed it when she asked him.