Миранда Джеймс - Fixing To Die

“We have apprehended Alesha Jackson, who was presenting herself to you under the name Primrose Pace . I’ll be talking with Mr. and Mrs. Catlin to discuss whether they want to file any charges against her for fraud. And maybe for theft of room and board as well. As I told you before, we are treating the death of Nathan Gamble as suspicious. For the moment I must ask you all to remain in the house until we have made further progress with the investigation. If you have any problems because of that, I will be happy to discuss the situation with you. Now, are there any questions?”

Marcelline spoke up immediately. “Am I allowed to go to the grocery store? We’re going to run out of food before much longer. I had no idea all these people would be here for more than a couple of days.”

“I will see that you’re able to go to the grocery store,” the lieutenant said. “Just let one of the officers on duty know when you need to go.”

At least we won’t be on starvation rations , An’gel thought. She had no pressing need to go anywhere outside the house at the moment, but knowing that she couldn’t, at least not without a police escort, was annoying. The sooner this situation was resolved, the better. Despite the lieutenant’s words during their last interview, An’gel wasn’t going to sit idly and wait for him to wrap everything up. Not, that is, if she happened to discover anything pertinent that could move things along.

“Lieutenant, I have a question,” Mary Turner said.

“Yes, ma’am?” the lieutenant prompted when she didn’t immediately continue.

Mary Turner cast a quick glance at Henry Howard before she addressed the policeman again. “It’s about Mrs. Pace, or rather Mrs. Jackson. Will she be remaining here as well?”

“That depends on you and your husband, Mrs. Catlin,” Steinberg replied. “If you press charges, then we will escort her to jail. If you don’t, then yes, I would like her to remain here with everyone else.”

“I don’t intend to press charges,” Mary Turner said.

Henry Howard started to protest, but Mary Turner shook her head. “No, we’re not going to press charges, Henry Howard.”

Her husband grunted in frustration and crossed his arms over his chest. “Have it your way, then.” He leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes.

“If you’re sure about that, ma’am,” the lieutenant said, “then I’ll hold off for the moment on any charges we might want to make.”

“I’m sure,” Mary Turner said.

While An’gel couldn’t help but admire her young friend’s generosity of spirit, she had to wonder whether it was wise to let Ms. Jackson off completely. Of course, An’gel realized, having the woman remain in the house with them meant that she would be available to question. An’gel intended to do that because she wanted to know more about the so-called medium.

“Then if there are no further questions,” Steinberg said, “I will get back to work. I will be working out of the library here for the rest of the day, if anyone wants to talk to me.” He turned and walked out of the room.

Serenity stood and dropped the napkin she had been clutching on the table. “I’m going to my room.” She left immediately.

“I think I’ll do the same,” Truss Wilbanks said. “If y’all will excuse me.” He nodded at An’gel and then at Mary Turner before he left.

Marcelline got up and started clearing the table. Henry Howard, without a word to anyone, stalked out of the room, obviously still upset over Mary Turner’s insistence not to press charges against Alesha Jackson. Mary Turner gazed after his retreating back, but when he disappeared from view, she turned to face her remaining guests with a determined smile.

“Miss An’gel, if y’all need anything, please let me or Marcelline know. I’ll be helping her in the kitchen, since we’re going to need to plan meals for everyone. If you have any special requests, we’ll do what we can to fulfill them.”

“We’ll be fine, my dear,” An’gel said. “You let us know if there’s anything we can do to help you and Marcelline.”

“Yes, indeed,” Dickce said. “We’ll all pitch in.”

“Whatever you need,” Benjy added shyly.

Mary Turner smiled and thanked them. “I’ll do that, I promise. For now, though, why don’t y’all relax and rest. We’ve had a stressful morning.”

The sound of a throat clearing focused all their attention on the doorway, where Alesha Jackson now stood. She gazed at them for a moment before she stepped into the room.

“I’m sorry if you feel I have deceived you, Mrs. Catlin,” she said. “The lieutenant told me you declined to press charges, and I want you to know how grateful I am.”

Marcelline snorted. “You don’t deserve it, playing tricks on good people. Why don’t you go out and get a real job instead of trying to cheat people out of money? Running around telling people you can talk to ghosts. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

Alesha Jackson flinched briefly at the onslaught of words, then her expression hardened. She stared defiantly at the housekeeper.

“I do have a real job,” she said heatedly. “I am a psychic.” Her eyes narrowed as she focused intently on the housekeeper. “If I wasn’t, how would I know that you’ve lied all these years about never being married?”

CHAPTER 27

Marcelline gasped and dropped the dishes she was carrying, to An’gel’s surprise. Alesha Jackson’s words had obviously struck home.

“How . . . how did you know that?” Marcelline said, her voice hoarse, before she collapsed into the closest chair.

Alesha Jackson smiled enigmatically but did not answer.

“Marcelline, is this really true?” Mary Turner asked. “When were you ever married?” An’gel could tell she was shocked by this revelation.

“A long time ago,” the housekeeper responded dully. “When I was a young girl, only seventeen. It just lasted a year. Then he ran off with another woman, and I never saw him again.”

“Are you still married to him?” Mary Turner asked.

“I don’t know,” the housekeeper said. “He never came back, and I never divorced him. The church wouldn’t approve.”

An’gel recalled then that Marcelline was Catholic, obviously one who didn’t believe in divorce.

“My goodness.” Mary Turner shook her head. “Did you ever tell Granny about this? Or Mother and Daddy?”

“Your granny knew,” Marcelline said. “She knew what it was like to be married to a faithless man. Sorry, honey, but your grandfather was a bad man.”

“I know,” Mary Turner replied. “Daddy told me all about him, and so did Granny.”

“Your granny never told anyone about me,” Marcelline said. “I didn’t have no other family, and Miz Turner felt sorry for me and took me in, gave me a job and a home. I thought no one would ever find out, as long as he never turned up again.”

An’gel had been watching Alesha Jackson during this conversation. The woman must have some kind of intuitive ability, she decided, or else she was a gambler who had taken a shot in the dark and watched it pay off beautifully. She didn’t appear to be gloating at her success, however.

Mary Turner went to the housekeeper and bent to give her a hug. “Why don’t you go lie down for a little while?” she said. “You’ve had a bad shock. I’ll take care of clearing up and everything.”

“I think I will.” Marcelline smiled uncertainly at her young mistress. “You don’t think badly of me, do you?”

“Of course not,” Mary Turner said firmly. “Now go get some rest. You can tell me about it later if you want to.” She helped Marcelline to her feet, and the housekeeper headed from the room, her shoulders slumped and her head down.