Миранда Джеймс - Digging Up The Dirt

“I saw Hadley and Arliss leaving the hotel when I pulled in,” An’gel said. “They were down the street before I could get out of the car and say hello to them. Were they dining in here?”

Dickce snickered. “Yes, they were dining. Did you think they’d spent the night here and were strolling out for fresh air?”

An’gel frowned and glanced sideways at Benjy. “Sister, I’m surprised at you. You shouldn’t say things like that.”

“It’s okay, Miss An’gel,” Benjy said. “You don’t have to worry on my account.”

An’gel looked slightly flustered at that, and Dickce snickered again. “We didn’t have a chance to speak to them either. I don’t think Arliss, at least, would have welcomed any interruption, especially from either of us.”

“No, I doubt she would have.” An’gel shook her head.

The waitress approached the table with a menu and a glass of water. An’gel inquired about the daily special and when told it was chicken and dumplings, decided she would have that and a glass of iced tea. The waitress nodded, took back the menu, and walked away.

“Let’s leave the subject of Arliss and Hadley for the moment,” An’gel said. “I have something to tell you.”

“What have you been up to?” Dickce asked. “I thought you had a lot of work to do.”

“I did, and it’s taken care of,” An’gel said. “I found the time to talk to Drew Carson.” She turned to Benjy. “He’s the chief of police here.”

“Did you call him about Sarinda?” Dickce asked.

An’gel nodded. “He didn’t tell me much, really, but I decided I would talk to Elmo Gandy and see what he would tell me about Sarinda.”

“Dr. Gandy is our family physician,” Dickce explained to a bewildered-looking Benjy. “An’gel and I have been going to him practically forever, since he first got out of medical school and came back to Athena to set up a practice.” She looked at An’gel. “What did Elmo tell you?”

An’gel glanced around before she answered. “He told me that Sarinda was definitely not an alcoholic. He thinks it was extremely unlikely that she would have been drinking bourbon, at least enough to get drunk and lose her balance coming down the stairs.”

Dickce’s eyes narrowed. “Does this mean he thinks her death wasn’t an accident?”

An’gel nodded. “He’s pretty sure it wasn’t, and he told the police that. He thinks she was most likely knocked down the stairs.”

CHAPTER 8

After lunch, Benjy headed home to unload his car while Dickce remained in town with An’gel. During the meal the sisters discussed the ramifications of the doctor’s thoughts on the death of their friend, and when they were ready to leave the hotel restaurant, An’gel had a suggestion.

“Let’s pay a call on Lottie,” she said. “I want to find out what she was doing at Sarinda’s house in the first place, and what she saw while she was there.”

Dickce glanced at the sky before she opened the passenger door and climbed into the car. “That’s a good idea,” she said, “but I don’t think we should linger in town too long. Clouds are moving in, and I don’t want to be on the road when those storms get here.”

“Agreed.” An’gel cranked the car and backed it out of the parking space. “If we catch Lottie at home, it shouldn’t take too long to find out what we want to know.”

“If she’s not at home, she’ll probably be at Barbie’s house,” Dickce said. “We can try there if we need to.”

“Yes, we can, but I’d rather talk to Lottie on her own,” An’gel replied. “Barbie has a tendency to speak for Lottie when they’re together, and I’m not in the mood for it today.”

Ten minutes later An’gel pulled into the driveway of Lottie’s two-story brick house. Though not of antebellum vintage, the MacLeod home was over a hundred years old and occupied a spacious lot with a beautifully kept yard.

An’gel and Dickce made their way up the hedge-bordered walk to the front door, and An’gel rang the bell. After a brief wait, the door opened, and Lottie’s housekeeper, Sarah, admitted them. “Miz Lottie’s upstairs. Y’all come on in, and I’ll let her know you’re here.”

“Thank you, Sarah,” An’gel said as she and Dickce followed the housekeeper into the front parlor. They seated themselves while they waited for Lottie to come down.

An’gel heard Lottie giving instructions to the housekeeper to bring in iced tea before she joined them in the parlor. Then she breezed into the room.

“Good afternoon, girls. I thought y’all might drop by sometime today.” Lottie chose a chair opposite the sofa the sisters occupied. “Isn’t it terrible about Sarinda?” She frowned.

“Yes, it is,” An’gel said. “We apologize for not calling first.”

Lottie waved away the apology. “It’s fine.”

“Finding poor Sarinda like that must have been an awful shock,” Dickce said.

“Oh, it was, it surely was,” Lottie said, her eyes closed for a moment. Then she blinked at the sisters. “At first I couldn’t believe what I saw seeing. Sarinda lying on the floor like that. It seemed like a nightmare.”

“Yes, I’m sure it must have,” An’gel said. “If you don’t mind my asking, would you tell us exactly what you saw?”

Lottie stared at her for a moment. “Well, I guess I don’t mind. It’s not like I’m going to forget it anytime soon.” She paused for a moment. “I walked in the front door, and at first I didn’t see her. I had to find the light switch because the front hall was a bit dark. Then, when the light came on, I turned, and there she was, sprawled facedown on the floor at the bottom of the staircase.” She shuddered.

“What did you do then?” An’gel asked.

“I think I screamed,” Lottie said. “Then I tried to gather my poor wits about me and do something. I went over to her and knelt by her head.” She shuddered again. “Her eyes were wide-open, and I could tell already she was dead. I did feel for a pulse on the side of her neck, but there wasn’t one.”

Sarah came into the room with a silver tray and set it on a table next to Lottie. Lottie thanked her. “We’ll serve ourselves.”

Once Sarah left the room and her guests had glasses of tea, Lottie continued. “That’s when I noticed the bottle of bourbon on the floor near her. And the smell.” She wrinkled her nose at the memory. “I don’t know why I hadn’t noticed it before. I suppose it was the shock of seeing poor Sarinda on the floor like that.”

“No doubt,” An’gel said. “Was there much bourbon in the bottle? Did you notice?”

Lottie considered that for a moment. “I think there might have been a little. There was some on the floor, and I noticed Sarinda’s blouse was a bit damp when I pushed it aside so I could check her pulse at the neck.”

An’gel exchanged a glance with Dickce. Was Sarinda drinking from the bottle when she fell—or was shoved—down the stairs? That could account for the liquor on her blouse. Or, An’gel thought, the person who knocked her down could have poured the bourbon on Sarinda after she hit the floor. An’gel felt sick to her stomach at the thought.

“What did you do after you checked for a pulse?” Dickce asked. “Was that when you called 911?”

“I think so.” Lottie wrinkled her nose. “Things are a bit fuzzy. I think I probably called 911 first. But I might have called either you or Barbie first. I can’t remember.” She took a sip of tea.

“Did you call anyone besides Barbie and us?” An’gel asked. Lottie shook her head. “No, just you two and Barbie.”

“What about today?” An’gel asked. “Have you talked to any of the other board members this morning?”

“Barbie said she would let people know,” Lottie said. “I didn’t feel up to it last night or this morning.”