Миранда Джеймс - Digging Up The Dirt

“Apology accepted,” Dickce said.

“What did Deputy Berry have to say about Mrs. Turnipseed?” Benjy asked.

“Nothing new to report,” An’gel said. “I can only hope that, in this case, no news is good news.”

“No telling about that woman.” Clementine sniffed. “She’s liable to be up to anything.”

“I sure would like another chance to talk to her,” An’gel said.

“I hope you won’t bring her inside this house.” Clementine looked determined. “Don’t need that bad stuff coming in here.”

An’gel and Dickce exchanged a swift glance. They had rarely heard their housekeeper speak so harshly of anyone. An’gel hastened to assure Clementine that she wouldn’t talk to Mrs. Turnipseed at Riverhill unless there was no other way.

“Provided, of course,” Dickce said, “she’s not dead in a ditch herself somewhere.” She shivered. “I shouldn’t have said that. I said it when we were on the way home from Memphis, and then we get here and find out you could have ended up in a ditch.”

“The Lord was looking out for Miss An’gel,” Clementine said. “Now it’s my turn. Dinner will be ready soon. Why don’t y’all go on and get washed up?”

“That sounds like a good idea to me,” Benjy said. “It’s been a long time since lunch.” He stood. “Come on, guys, time for us to go.” He picked up Endora from Dickce’s lap, and Peanut followed him as he went to the kitchen door. “Stopped raining, at least. I’ll be back soon as I get the guys settled. I’ll put the car in the garage, too.”

“We’ll set the table,” An’gel told the housekeeper.

Clementine nodded. “Thank you. I’ll bring the food along shortly.”

An’gel and Dickce left the kitchen. They took turns washing up in the downstairs powder room before they went into the dining room. They began to lay the table while they chatted.

“If that car hitting you wasn’t a coincidence,” Dickce said, “who do you think could have been driving the car?”

“It happened too soon after we all left for any of the others to get home, find another car, and come back.” An’gel frowned. “And Hadley’s car was undamaged. I think surely whoever hit me sustained damage to their car, so that lets Hadley off. Who else is there?”

“I know this may sound odd,” Dickce said, “but the only other person connected to this that we know of is Mrs. Turnipseed.”

“Why would she try to run me off the road?” An’gel asked.

“I don’t know,” Dickce said. “She’s just the only other person I can think of.”

“Unless there’s a Mister or Miss X,” An’gel said. “Someone we don’t know about yet who is involved somehow.”

“That hardly seems likely,” Dickce said.

An’gel sighed. “I know, but it seems about as likely as Mrs. Turnipseed.”

“She as good as told you that she was actually at Ashton Hall when Callie left,” Dickce said. “She must have seen something or she wouldn’t have tried to get money from us.”

“I agree.” An’gel stood back and admired their handiwork. “Perhaps she put the bite on the person she saw then, and that person has forced her to help them now. Are you thinking something like that?”

“Pretty much,” Dickce said. “Only I wonder what kind of inducement that person is using. Threatening to kill Mrs. Turnipseed if she doesn’t go along with them, or offering a huge bribe. Which might it be?”

An’gel thought about that for a moment. “Actually there’s another possibility. Make that two possibilities. The first is that Mrs. Turnipseed has been behind everything all along. The second one is that the person behind it has equally damaging evidence against Mrs. Turnipseed.”

“I like that second one,” Dickce said. “We don’t have much to go on, based on our only recent encounter with Mrs. T, but I think she’s probably a nasty piece of work. I wouldn’t put much past her.”

“Me either,” An’gel replied. “And you heard what Clementine thinks of her. She’s usually the soul of charity, but when she doesn’t like someone, it means that person is horrid.”

Benjy entered the dining room bearing a large bowl of salad. Clementine was right behind him with the serving cart.

“Something sure smells wonderful,” Dickce said.

“Chicken tetrazzini and garlic bread,” Benjy said with a happy grin. “Man, I can’t wait to dig in.” He set the salad on the table.

Clementine set chilled bowls at each place. She put the large casserole dish on a trivet on the table and then set the garlic bread near it.

“Looks wonderful,” An’gel said. “We’ll clean up. You go on home.”

Clementine nodded. “See you tomorrow.”

Conversation was sparse as the three ate their meal. After his second helping of the chicken dish, Benjy pushed back from the table a little. “I think I’m completely stuffed.”

“I am, too,” Dickce said. “Although I keep thinking I want another piece of garlic bread.”

“There’s only the one left,” An’gel said. “If Benjy doesn’t care for it, go ahead.”

Dickce glanced at Benjy. He shook his head, smiling. Dickce picked up the slice of toasted bread and took a bite out of it.

“While my sister munches in peace,” An’gel said, “what are your plans for tomorrow, Benjy?”

“I’m going to continue my research,” he replied. “I’ll probably work some tonight. I want to see if I can track down this H. Wachtel person. I thought I might also try searching English newspaper archives to see if I can find anything on Coriander Simpson’s death.”

“Excellent. I hope you can find something,” An’gel said. “If you can’t, it won’t exactly prove that Coriander didn’t die in England, of course.”

“No, but a negative result will tell us something,” Benjy said. “I might have to pay to get into some of the archives. Is that okay?”

“Certainly,” Dickce said. “Use your credit card.” They had given him his own card recently, but he was careful about using it unless he discussed it with them first.

“Thanks.” Benjy stood and began to clear his side of the table.

“We’ll take care of the rest,” An’gel told him. “You go on and see if Clementine left anything in the fridge for dessert.” She winked. “Then go and research.”

Benjy laughed. “I shouldn’t eat anything more, but Clementine’s desserts are hard to resist. I guess I’ll say good night then.”

An’gel and Dickce both wished him good night, and he left the dining room humming.

“It’s wonderful to see the change in him since we first met him three months ago,” Dickce said. “He’s become so much more confident, and he smiles a lot.”

“Having a home, good food, and people who actually support him and pay attention to him has made a huge difference.” An’gel smiled. “I’m glad you talked me into making him our ward.”

Dickce picked up her glass and stared into it. An’gel waited. She knew Dickce had something on her mind, but there was no point in rushing her.

After a moment, Dickce said, “I’ve been thinking about that, having him as our ward. We use that term, but there’s really nothing legal behind it to define the relationship.” She paused. “I want to adopt him.” She held up a hand toward her sister. “And before you tell me that’s a ridiculous idea, a woman my age adopting anyone, I’m pretty determined about this.”

“I’m not going to say it’s a ridiculous idea,” An’gel replied. “I’ve been thinking about it myself. We have no direct heirs, and when we’re gone, I want someone who will appreciate Riverhill to have it and take care of it. I think Benjy could be the right person for that.”

“I do, too.” Dickce smiled, obviously relieved by her sister’s words. “I’m so glad you agree.”