Миранда Джеймс - Digging Up The Dirt

“Couldn’t it have been the reflection of a headlight from a car passing by?” An’gel asked.

“We thought of that.” Barbie glared at her hostess. “You’re not the only two who read murder mysteries, you know. Barbie and I both read them. Anyway, I asked Mrs. Harrington that same question, and she said the street was quiet. They hardly ever have traffic that late at night.”

“Besides,” Lottie added on a triumphant note, “she could see the light going up the stairs after a few minutes. You know how Sarinda has that huge glass front door, and the staircase is straight ahead of it when you walk into the house.”

“And she just happened to have a pair of opera glasses nearby,” Barbie added. “I think she snoops on her neighbors, frankly, because who keeps opera glasses in their front room? Anyway, she snatched up her glasses when she saw the light start going up the stairs, and she looked, and all she could see was the light. No outline of a body, nothing. Only the light.”

“Are there any lights on inside Sarinda’s house?” An’gel asked.

Barbie and Lottie looked at each other and shrugged.

“Any outside light?” Dickce asked.

“There’s a streetlight by the sidewalk right between her house and the one to the north,” Barbie said after a moment’s thought. “We drove by the house before we came here, and there weren’t any outside lights on that we could see from the street.”

“We didn’t notice any lights on inside, either,” Lottie said. “But it would have been hard to tell without getting out of the car and walking around the house. It was daylight outside.”

“If you’re trying to make out that the light Mrs. Harrington saw was a reflection from an outside light or one from inside, I think you’re wrong,” Barbie said. “She saw what she saw.”

“All right.” An’gel put up her hands in a gesture of surrender. “Mrs. Harrington saw the light, and it went up the stairs. Did she see it upstairs?”

“I don’t think so,” Lottie replied. “If the person with the light stayed toward the back of the upper floors, Mrs. Harrington couldn’t have seen anything.”

“Sarinda’s bedroom is at the back of the house, you know,” Lottie said.

“Yes, we remember that,” Dickce said.

“Somebody was snooping,” Barbie said. “I’m wondering what it is they were looking for.”

“Yes, me, too,” Lottie added. “Sarinda kept all her jewelry in a safe deposit box at the bank. If the ghost was looking for diamonds, he was bound to be disappointed.”

“If you really believe there was an intruder in Sarinda’s house last night,” An’gel said, “then you should inform the police.”

“We did that.” Barbie shot An’gel a smug look. “They said they would go talk to Mrs. Harrington. I’m sure they’ll check with Sarinda’s other neighbors to find out if they saw anything.”

An’gel found her patience wearing thin. Most of the time she didn’t find Barbie and Lottie so annoying, but today they were.

Clementine entered the room, pushing a rolling cart. She brought it to a stop by the coffee table and commenced to unload its contents onto the table. In addition to the large carafe of coffee and the necessary accoutrements, An’gel saw a plate of cookies. Clementine knew their guests well, because Barbie and Lottie could never resist Clementine’s cookies.

“Thank you so much, Clementine.” Barbie’s eyes shone when she saw the treats.

“Yes, thank you,” Lottie said. “You make the best cookies in Athena.”

“You’re welcome, ladies,” Clementine said with a wink at An’gel. “I’m glad you enjoy them.” She left the room.

While An’gel poured and served the coffee, the guests picked up their plates and loaded them with cookies.

“If there’s anything to find,” An’gel said in a return to the previous subject, “I’m sure the police will find it. I’d like to talk about another matter with you. I was going to call you this morning.”

“What matter?” Barbie bit a chunk out of an oatmeal raisin cookie.

“Dickce and I have been thinking lately about getting someone to assist Clementine.” An’gel smiled before she went on mendaciously, “Actually, Clementine is hinting about retiring, and we thought we’d get someone in that she could train to take her place when she finally does leave.” She shot a warning glance at her sister and hoped that their guests didn’t notice.

“You certainly can’t have my housekeeper,” Barbie said. “I’d claw both your eyes out if you tried to hire her away from me.”

“You can’t have mine either.” Lottie sounded alarmed. She dropped a piece of cookie on the sofa and then snatched it up. “I wouldn’t know what to do without her.”

“You don’t need to get all upset,” Dickce said. “An’gel and I wouldn’t think of trying to hire your housekeepers away from you. We know how you depend on them.”

“We already have a couple of candidates in mind,” An’gel said, “but we don’t know if they’re still in the area. We wanted to see if you knew anything.”

“Who are they?” Barbie sipped from her coffee.

“They both used to work at Ashton Hall,” Dickce said.

“Good heavens,” Barbie said. “You’re not talking about that awful woman, Mrs. Turnipseed, are you? You wouldn’t want her.” She shook her head. “Besides, she’d have to be close to eighty by now.”

“Isn’t she still working at Ashton Hall?” Lottie asked. “She was there for nearly forever.”

“No, she left when Hamish died, apparently,” An’gel said. “I couldn’t remember how old she is, and if she’s that age, she probably wouldn’t want to work any longer.”

“Still, if we could talk to her, she might know what happened to that wonderful housemaid Callie had,” Dickce said. “Callie always seemed happy with her work, and if she’s around and in need of a job, she might fit the bill nicely.”

Barbie stared at her, then fixed her gaze on An’gel. “What’s going on here? First you want to talk to an eighty-year-old woman, then you want to talk to a woman who worked for Callie Partridge forty years ago? Come on, what’s the real story?”

An’gel shrugged. Barbie was shrewder than she’d thought, although Lottie looked slightly bewildered. An’gel decided to tell at least part of the truth. They hadn’t brought up the remains found at Ashton Hall, so they probably hadn’t heard about them yet.

“Now that Hadley’s back, and he says he has no idea what happened to Callie,” An’gel said, “we got to wondering what did happen to her. Dickce and I discussed it, and we decided that Mrs. Turnipseed and the housemaid—Coriander Simpson is her name, I’m pretty sure—might tell us what happened at Ashton Hall right after Hadley left.”

“They might be able to shed some light on why Callie ran away,” Dickce said.

“I for one am having a hard time believing Hadley when he says he wasn’t in love with Callie.” Barbie’s eyes narrowed. “They were close. I caught them with their heads together more than once at the country club and at parties. They always looked guilty, too. Something was going on between them.”

“You’re right,” Lottie said. “They spent an awful lot of time together, and Callie a married woman.” She sniffed.

“As I recall it, Hadley also spent a fair amount of time chasing after a number of different women.” An’gel stared hard at Barbie. “Word at the country club was that he caught more than a few of them. Some of them were even married at the time.”

“If you’re talking about me, An’gel Ducote, why don’t you come out and say it?” Barbie reached for another cookie.