Миранда Джеймс - Digging Up The Dirt

“We’ll be glad to,” An’gel said.

“Thank you, ladies.” Kanesha rose. “I appreciate you coming by. Now, I’m afraid I have to show you out. I’ve got another case to work on.”

The sisters rose. “Of course,” An’gel said. “We understand how busy you are.”

Back in the car, Dickce said, “I think we should put Benjy to work on finding Coriander Simpson.”

“Why so?” An’gel said as she put the car in gear and backed out of the parking space.

“He’s smart about computers, for one thing,” Dickce said. “I bet he will be able to turn up something as fast as the sheriff’s department can. Probably faster.”

“Maybe so,” An’gel said. “I suppose it can’t hurt for him to try.”

“As soon as we get home, I’m going to talk to him about it,” Dickce said.

Twenty minutes later, Dickce was seated at the table in Benjy’s apartment, and the two of them were talking about the search for Coriander Simpson.

“I’ll search for her online,” Benjy said. “It’s an unusual name, and that helps.” He thought for a moment. “Do you know whether she was a live-in maid?”

Dickce shook her head. “I don’t recall. It’s possible she was. I’ll check with Hadley, because he will certainly know.”

“Good,” Benjy said. “If she wasn’t live-in, though, I might be able to trace her through old phone directories. Do you know whether the public library has kept any?”

“I’m not sure,” Dickce said. “I’d be willing to bet, though, that they have. The Athena Historical Society has worked closely with the library for many years to document the town’s history. They’ve collected all kinds of things, and much of it is housed at the library.” She paused for a moment. “And if they don’t have it, you might talk to Charlie Harris about the college archive. It could be that the college has some.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. I’ll go to the public library first thing tomorrow and start there,” Benjy said. “I can check their databases, too. See if I can find anything about her that way. In the meantime, I’ll search tonight at home.”

“Thank you, dear,” Dickce said. “I have a feeling that if anyone can find Coriander Simpson, it will be you.”

Peanut, who had been napping on the floor between Dickce and Benjy, suddenly gave a woof, as if he agreed. Dickce and Benjy laughed. Endora, as usual asleep in Dickce’s lap when it was available, yawned and stretched. Dickce rubbed the cat’s head for a moment, and Endora purred.

“I guess I’d better get back over to the house,” Dickce said. “An’gel is going to ask Clementine if she knows anything about the woman, and I want to hear what she has to say.” She gently picked up the cat and set her on the floor. Endora shot her a reproachful look before stalking off, tail straight up in the air, to the couch. She leapt up, found her favorite spot, and curled up.

Dickce shared another laugh with Benjy. She patted his shoulder before she rose. “Dinner should be ready in about an hour. I’ll see you at the table.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Benjy stood to see her to the head of the stairs.

Dickce hurried across the back lawn to the kitchen door. She found her sister inside with their housekeeper. An’gel was talking while Clementine worked at the stove.

“. . . such a nasty woman,” An’gel was saying. “But I have to say she appears to keep a spotless house.”

“Mrs. Turnipseed,” Dickce said.

“Yes,” An’gel replied. “I was just telling Clementine about our visit with her.”

“Better you than me,” Clementine said.

“Have you asked yet about Coriander Simpson?” Dickce said.

“I was about to,” An’gel replied. She addressed the housekeeper. “Did you know Mrs. Partridge’s housemaid at all, Clementine?”

The housekeeper frowned as she checked a pot of boiling cabbage. “I can’t say as rightly I did. I don’t think she was from around here.”

“What makes you think that?” Dickce asked.

“I’m trying to remember,” Clementine said. “I didn’t see her much, except every once in a while at church. She kinda kept to herself.” She paused. “I believe somebody at church told me they thought she didn’t have any people around here.”

“I wonder how she came to be in Athena, then,” An’gel said.

“Where was it Callie was from?” Dickce said. “I know Hamish met her in Memphis. Was that where she was from?”

“I believe so,” An’gel said. “Do you think she might have known Coriander Simpson in Memphis?”

Dickce shrugged. “It’s possible. Maybe she had worked for Callie’s family, and Callie hired her after she married Hamish.”

“I can’t remember,” An’gel said. “That’s entirely possible.”

“I think that may be right,” Clementine said slowly. “I seem to remember something about Memphis and that Simpson girl.” She shook her head. “Can’t get it just now, but I’ll keep thinking on it.”

“Thank you,” An’gel said. “I think we’d better get out of your way now and let you finish cooking dinner. Dickce and I will set the table.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Clementine said. “I hadn’t gotten around to that yet.”

“I told Benjy dinner would be ready in about an hour,” Dickce said. “Was that all right?”

“That’s fine,” the housekeeper replied.

Dickce followed An’gel to the dining room, and they had the table set in a few minutes.

“Now that we’re done with this,” Dickce said, “why don’t we call Hadley and ask him what he knows about Coriander Simpson?”

“I did that while you were talking with Benjy,” An’gel said. “He was out, and the housekeeper didn’t know when he’d be back. She said she’d ask him to call us back.”

“That’s frustrating.” Dickce led the way out of the dining room and into the front parlor. “Let’s have a drink before dinner.”

“Yes,” An’gel said. “Your usual?” She walked over to the liquor cabinet.

Dickce nodded. “I wonder if he’s out with Arliss again.”

“Possibly,” An’gel said as she poured the Laphroaig. “He could also be out doing business related to Ashton Hall.”

“Of course,” Dickce said. “But do you think he’s seriously interested in Arliss?”

An’gel shrugged and handed Dickce her whisky. “If he hasn’t changed, then, no, I’d say he isn’t. But we’ll have to see. Surely after forty years he’s matured and grown out of that idle playboy phase.”

“I would certainly hope so.” Dickce sipped at her whisky.

An’gel drained her glass and set it on the tray on the liquor cabinet. “I think I’ll go up and read for a bit before dinner. I need to think about something else for a little while.”

“Good idea.” Dickce knocked back the contents of her glass. “I want to look through the books I bought today and decide which one to read first.” She followed her sister out of the room and up the stairs.

Several hours later, after both had retired for the night, they were awakened by the ringing of the house phone. Dickce glanced with eyes barely open at the luminous dial of her bedside clock. Who was calling them at seven minutes past midnight?

She picked up the handset from the nightstand and hit the answer button. “Hello,” she said, her throat dry. She identified herself. “Who is this?”

“It’s Barbie,” the caller replied.

“Who?” An’gel said from the extension in her bedroom.

“Barbie Gross,” Dickce said. “What is it, Barbie. What’s wrong?”

Dickce heard someone draw a long breath. Then Barbie said, “I just heard the news. Arliss is in intensive care at the hospital. They won’t know if she’s going to make it until morning.”