Миранда Джеймс - Fixing To Die

The forthcoming interview with Ms. Jackson promised to be interesting, and An’gel looked forward to it. She had the advantage now because Ms. Jackson would have no idea that An’gel knew who she really was. Would the woman admit it, though? Perhaps Benjy could dig up information on the family, now that An’gel had the putative grandparents’ names.

Benjy ought to be here soon. An’gel decided she had better rouse her sister and fill her in on the fascinating information from Marcelline. She met Benjy in the hall, laptop under his arm, Endora on his shoulder, and Peanut on the leash.

“Go on in,” An’gel said. “I’m going to get Dickce.”

A few minutes later, the group was comfortably situated in An’gel’s room. Dickce occupied the other armchair, Endora in her lap. Peanut lay stretched out beside Benjy, who was sitting on the floor, his computer open on his lap. An’gel related the story of Arletta Jackson, and both Dickce and Benjy were astonished.

Benjy started tapping the keys on the computer and was quickly engrossed in a search for details about the family of Alesha Jackson.

While he worked, An’gel and Dickce talked.

“If all this is true,” Dickce said, “what do you think her motive is in coming here? And why didn’t she just explain who she really is, do you think?”

“She might have been intending simply to scam Mary Turner for the money she was asking for ridding the house of its ghost,” An’gel said. “Or she might want more. If her father really was Marshall’s son, Alesha might feel that he should have part ownership in the house and in anything Marshall Junior inherited.”

“At the time Marshall Senior died, that would have been a significant amount,” Dickce said. “But by the time Marshall Junior and his wife died, basically all they had left was this house.”

“And the business they turned it into,” An’gel said. “It’s a pity that Marshall Junior didn’t inherit his father’s head for business or his knack for making money.”

“No, he was too much like his mother in that regard,” Dickce said. “They managed fine on what Marshall Senior left until Junior was grown, at least.”

“Alesha Jackson might think there’s money somewhere besides the house,” An’gel said.

“If Marshall Senior didn’t mention his other son in his will, I don’t see that Alesha has any legal claim, nor does her father. I wonder if he’s still living.”

“He isn’t,” Benjy said. “He died three months ago. I found an obituary, and it mentions the surviving family members. ‘Survived by his mother, Mrs. Arletta Jackson; his wife, Laura Ann; and his daughter, Alesha. Preceded in death by his father, Lonnie Jackson, and a sister, Aretha Jackson.’” He looked up from the computer. “They lived in a town called Port Gibson.”

“Not far from Natchez,” An’gel said.

“Maybe Alesha didn’t know about her grandfather until her father died,” Dickce said. “Do you think that’s possible? And maybe his death set her onto finding about her father’s other family?”

“That’s possible, I suppose,” An’gel said. “I intend to find out when we talk to Ms. Jackson later.”

“You think there might be another motive, besides money, I mean?” Benjy said. “Like revenge?”

“Possibly,” An’gel said. “I think her motives in coming here are complex. The desire for money, revenge, recognition maybe.”

“Would she have any reason to kill Nathan Gamble?” Benjy asked. “Maybe her coming here had nothing to do with him.”

“I can’t see a connection myself,” Dickce said. “Can you, Sister?”

An’gel shook her head. “No, there’s no immediate connection that I can see. Of course, Nathan and Serenity are her cousins, too. Same degree of relationship as they are to Mary Turner. Alesha Jackson could very well have known Nathan in another context, though she and Serenity don’t appear to know each other.”

“No, I don’t remember seeing any kind of sign that they knew each other,” Dickce said. “They could be pretending not to know each other.”

“I can’t imagine why, unless they’re involved in some sort of conspiracy,” An’gel said. “And frankly Serenity doesn’t impress me as intelligent enough to handle any kind of responsibility for some sort of undercover scheme.”

Dickce snorted with laughter. “No, she doesn’t me either.”

“I think I found the connection,” Benjy said. “The one between Alesha Jackson and Nathan Gamble, that is.”

“What is it?” An’gel and Dickce said in unison.

“Lonnie Jackson’s obituary says he was an employee of Gamble Construction Company at the time of his death,” Benjy said, his eyes focused on the screen of his laptop. He grimaced. “He apparently fell to his death on a construction site.”

CHAPTER 29

“There’s a potential motive right there,” An’gel said slowly. “If the family holds Nathan Gamble responsible for Lonnie Jackson’s death, Alesha Jackson could have killed him out of anger. A life for a life.”

“Benjy, see if you can find out anything about the accident,” Dickce said.

“Already on it,” Benjy said.

An’gel and Dickce waited in silence while Benjy searched. They knew it wouldn’t take long.

“Got it,” he said in obvious satisfaction a minute later. He scanned the article he’d found. After a moment, he raised his head to look at An’gel and Dickce.

“I can tell by your expression that it’s bad,” An’gel said.

Benjy nodded. “According to the article I found, there were complaints about safety violations on the site where it happened. Some equipment that wasn’t up to standard. Scaffolding, actually. Collapsed with Mr. Jackson, and he fell six stories and died instantly.”

“Sounds to me like Nathan Gamble’s company could be liable,” Dickce said. “There’s no excuse for putting workers’ lives in danger with shoddy equipment.”

“No, there isn’t,” An’gel said. “I wonder if Mrs. Jackson is planning to sue the company.”

“According to the article, the widow is considering a lawsuit,” Benjy said. “This is dated about two weeks after the accident. I haven’t found a follow-up to it.”

“Maybe Alesha Jackson didn’t want to wait for the outcome of a lawsuit,” Dickce said. “No telling how long it might drag out. Unless the company agreed to settle out of court.”

“Based on what we’ve heard about Nathan Gamble’s love of money,” An’gel said, “he might not have settled, unless it would be cheaper than going to court. Now that he’s out of the way, whoever will be running the company might be more amenable to a hefty settlement. Who knows?”

“There’s prime motive for murder,” Dickce said. “For someone out for revenge and for a lot of money.”

“Alesha Jackson is the most likely suspect now, isn’t she?” Benjy set his laptop aside, and Peanut immediately put his head in the young man’s lap. Benjy began to stroke the silky head.

“Probably,” An’gel said. “I’m certainly not going to discount Serenity Foster or Truss Wilbanks. Either separately or together, depending on Nathan Gamble’s will, they could stand to gain a lot more in terms of money than Alesha Jackson.”

“If I had to choose,” Benjy said, “I’d rather it was Serenity Foster. She’s not nice at all. Alesha Jackson, even though we know she’s a fraud, isn’t nasty like the other one is.”

“I agree with you,” Dickce said. “The lawyer, well, I just feel sorry for him. Sounds like he wasn’t being treated well by his so-called partner, and having to deal with Serenity . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“True.” An’gel grunted in frustration, an unladylike sound to her ears, but it expressed how she felt. “If only we knew how Nathan Gamble died. Plus how the killer got into the room to do it, if the method called for it.”