Миранда Джеймс - Digging Up The Dirt

Hadley appeared startled at the abrupt shift in subject. He laid down his fork and gazed at An’gel. “Though I hate to think of my brother as a murderer,” he said, “I think you’re right. I am hoping against hope that those remains aren’t Callie, though.”

“I think we have to work under the assumption that they are,” An’gel said. “I would love to believe that Callie is alive somewhere, happy and flourishing, but it simply isn’t realistic.”

Hadley sighed. “I know you’re right. Finding the ring is evidence enough, I suppose.”

“Did you have to turn it over to Kanesha?” Dickce asked.

“Yes,” Hadley said. “I will get it back eventually, but I hated to let go of it.” Suddenly he pushed back his chair and stood. “This was a wonderful meal, but it’s been rather a long day.”

An’gel rose. “Yes, it has, and the conversation hasn’t been particularly cheerful. We’ve enjoyed having you here. Let me show you out.” Dickce and Benjy stood also.

“Thank you for being so understanding.” Hadley came to her and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. Then he went around her to do the same for Dickce. He extended his hand to Benjy, and they shook.

An’gel escorted Hadley to the front door. Hadley turned to her and said, “Thank you again,” before he walked through the door and into the night.

An’gel closed the door behind him and stood there for a moment, thinking about the evening. She looked up to see Dickce and Benjy walking toward her.

“I’m sorry if we upset him,” Dickce said.

“Yes, but it couldn’t be helped,” An’gel replied. “We have to talk about these things. We can’t simply ignore Callie’s death.”

“No, of course not,” Dickce said. “Poor Hadley. I feel so bad for him.”

“He seems like a nice guy,” Benjy said. “There’s one thing I’ve been thinking about, though.” He paused.

“Go ahead,” An’gel said. “Say what’s on your mind.”

“Okay.” Benjy frowned. “I was thinking about that phone call. The one he told us about. What if he was making that up?”

CHAPTER 13

An’gel nodded. “You’re right, Benjy. I’ve been thinking about that myself. We also have only his word that he was not in love with Callie, that he thought of her only as a friend, and not a lover.”

“If he’s not telling the truth in either case, I’m wondering why he would be lying,” Benjy said.

“To shift the blame completely to his brother, for one thing.” Dickce frowned. “It’s a little drafty here by the door. Let’s go back to the dining room and finish clearing the table. We can discuss Hadley while we do that.”

An’gel and Benjy followed her. When they reached the dining room, An’gel said, “We need to track down Mrs. Turnipseed. Even though she’ll be biased against Hadley, according to him, she still might be able to tell us something.”

“Especially about the last few days before Callie disappeared.” Dickce paused in stacking dessert plates on the tray. “I just thought of something. Wasn’t there another woman who worked for them? A housemaid, I seem to remember. Now, what was her name?”

“You’re right, there was a woman,” An’gel said. “I can’t remember her name at the moment, but I do remember that Callie was fond of her and thought she was a good worker. We’ll have to ask Clementine tomorrow if she can think of the woman’s name if it doesn’t come to one of us before then.”

“My memory simply isn’t what it was.” Dickce sighed. “I used to be able to remember people’s names and their faces.”

“We both did,” An’gel said. “No use complaining about it now. Let’s get all this to the kitchen and be done with it.”

They carried everything to the kitchen and set the dishes and cutlery in the sink. Benjy bade them good night.

“I need to let Peanut out for one last run before bedtime,” he said. “See you in the morning.” He gave them each a quick peck on the cheek before he left through the back door.

“He’s such a sweet boy,” Dickce said as she filled the sink with hot water to soak the dishes. “I worry about him, though. He needs friends his own age. Right now all he has is the two of us, Clementine, Peanut, and Endora.”

“I think he’s doing fine,” An’gel said. “He needs time to adjust after everything that’s happened to him in recent months. Once he starts classes at Athena in the spring, he’ll start to make friends.”

“Yes, I suppose so.” Dickce turned off the tap and wiped her hands on a dish towel. “That’s done. I’m ready to call it a night and get ready for bed. I hope I don’t have nightmares about what we found today.”

“That was gruesome,” An’gel said as she followed Dickce out of the kitchen. She left one light burning in the hall before they climbed the stairs to their respective bedrooms on the second floor. “Try to think about other, more pleasant, things before you go to sleep. That usually works for me. Good night.”

“I’ll try, but I don’t know whether it will work. Good night.” Dickce stepped into her room and shut the door.

An’gel forced her thoughts away from the subject of Callie Partridge while she prepared for bed. Once she was done, instead of climbing into bed, she went to the armchair by the window where she liked to read and turned on the lamp. She didn’t feel ready for sleep, and reading often calmed her thoughts and helped her drift off more easily.

Charlie Harris had recommended that she try a series that featured a Scottish noblewoman in post–World War I Scotland. She was halfway through After the Armistice Ball , the first book by Catriona McPherson, and enjoying it thoroughly. Within moments of picking it up she found herself once more immersed in the story.

By the time An’gel turned the last page, the clock read 11:14. An’gel yawned and set the book aside. She would have to thank Charlie for his recommendation and find more books by the author. Right now, though, she was ready to climb into bed. She soon fell asleep and slept soundly until her alarm went off at seven.

At breakfast forty-five minutes later she eyed Dickce with concern. “You obviously didn’t rest well, Sister. Did you get any sleep at all?”

Dickce yawned before she answered. “I tossed and turned a good bit of the night. I couldn’t go to sleep for the longest time, and when I did I had nightmares about bodies rising out of graves and coming after me.”

“I’m sorry you didn’t sleep well.” Benjy frowned. “Maybe you should go back to bed.”

“Heavens, do I look that bad?” Dickce smiled. “I may take a nap sometime today, but for now, I’m awake. This coffee ought to perk me up.”

“Clementine’s coffee is strong enough to do the trick,” Benjy said. “One cup is enough to do me for the rest of the day.” He nodded at his empty cup before he picked up his glass of orange juice.

“We’ve been drinking it for years,” Dickce said. “Takes me at least three cups to get completely awake on days like this.”

“If you drink three cups of that coffee, you’ll be running around the house like a hamster on its wheel,” An’gel said. “I’d advise you to have one at the most and in a little while, go back upstairs and lie down for an hour or two.”

“Thank you, Sister,” Dickce said. “But I’ll follow my own prescription if you don’t mind.” She picked up her cup and drained it, then got up to go to the sideboard to refill it from the carafe there.

An’gel frowned but didn’t otherwise respond. She knew how Dickce was when she got in one of these moods. She decided to concentrate instead on finishing her meal. She was eager to start the search for Hamish Partridge’s faithful housekeeper, Mrs. Turnipseed, and the housemaid whose name she had finally remembered this morning while she was in the shower.