Миранда Джеймс: Digging Up The Dirt

The soil was still soft from the watering Miss An’gel gave it when she finished planting the bushes earlier. He wasn’t sure at first that he would like the feel of the damp dirt on his hands, but after a few minutes he began to enjoy the process of restoring the plants to the earth. Growing up in Los Angeles, he’d never had the chance to do any kind of gardening, and he began to understand the attraction it held for his two benefactors.

When he finished with the last azalea, he got to his feet and stepped back to examine his work. He hoped Miss An’gel would be pleased. He felt a momentary doubt. Perhaps he should have waited until the sisters returned and let them supervise him. No, he decided, he had done okay, and if Miss An’gel wanted them moved at all, he would do it for her.

Peanut barked suddenly and stared toward the driveway. He trotted several feet away from Benjy and stopped, still focused on the driveway. Benjy knew that meant the dog had heard a car, and moments later the sisters’ Lexus came into view.

Benjy stared down at his filthy hands and his dirt-encrusted jeans and sighed. He had hoped to get cleaned up before he had to face the sisters but that wasn’t going to happen. He trudged forward with Endora beside him. When they reached Peanut, the dog accompanied them to meet the sisters at the garage in back of the mansion. “Time to face the music, kids,” he informed the animals.

After dinner in the kitchen that evening, Benjy excused himself when the sisters declined his offer to clear the table. He went off to his apartment over what had once been the stables with An’gel’s reassurance that he had replanted the azaleas perfectly. When he was gone, the subject turned to Peanut and Endora and their misbehavior earlier in the day.

“They’re mischievous children,” Dickce said tartly. “Honestly, Sister, one would think you’d never been around house pets in your life.”

An’gel glowered. “Dogs, yes. Cats, no. I wouldn’t be surprised if Endora was the ringleader. She’s so sly, and she loves to irritate me.”

Dickce snickered. “You’re getting paranoid over a cat that weighs less than five pounds. It’s because Endora likes me better, isn’t it? That’s why you’re always claiming she’s got it in for you.”

“If Endora were more like Diesel, I wouldn’t have a problem with her. He’s a much nicer cat, with better manners.” An’gel thought with fondness of the Maine Coon that belonged to their friend Charlie Harris.

“Diesel is a wonderful cat,” Dickce said, “but Endora is a sweet girl. You need to pay more attention to her instead of making a fuss over Peanut all the time.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” An’gel said. “I guess I take after Mother when it comes to felines. You know she wasn’t all that fond of them.”

Dickce smiled at the thought of their beautiful mother who had always had at least two or three dogs in the house. “No, she wasn’t. She was definitely a dog person, but she let me have cats, as long as it was one at a time.”

An’gel nodded. “Yes, she did, and you wouldn’t let me have much to do with them either.” She shrugged. “Back to the present. Benjy said he gave them both a stern talking-to about digging in the flower beds. Peanut is smart, and I don’t think we’ll have a problem with him bothering the beds again. Unless Endora takes it into her head to dig.”

“Of course she’s going to dig.” Dickce spoke tartly. “She’s not always going to use the litter box indoors.”

An’gel decided it was time to change the subject before they got deeper into a discussion of Endora’s sanitary habits. “Enough of that. I’m curious about Sarinda and the way she behaved at the meeting today. Didn’t you think she was odd?”

“Odder than usual, certainly,” Dickce said. “Probably her same old pattern of trying to get more attention.” She drained the last of the red from her wineglass and looked about for the bottle.

“Maybe,” An’gel said, “but I’m uneasy. There was an undercurrent in that room today, once Hadley claimed he has no idea where Callie is.”

“Don’t tell me you’re starting to think foul play was involved.” Dickce shook her head before reaching for the wine.

“No, I wouldn’t go that far,” An’gel said, “but I’d certainly give a lot to know where Callie is right now. Aren’t you curious about her?”

“Yes,” Dickce said after a sip of wine. “I always liked her, and I was sorry when she disappeared like that. It would be good to know that she’s alive and well and happy somewhere.”

“I’m going to call Sarinda,” An’gel said. “If she won’t answer my questions over the phone, I’ll insist that she allow us to come talk to her tomorrow.”

“Fine with me.” Dickce stood and began to clear the table. “You do that, and then you can help me here.”

An’gel went to the phone on the nearby counter and punched in Sarinda’s number. She waited for Sarinda to pick up, but instead the call went to voice mail. She left a brief message, then ended the call.

The phone rang a few minutes later as An’gel placed the last utensil in the dishwasher. She glanced at the display and saw that it was Lottie MacLeod calling. She grimaced. Lottie loved chatting on the phone, and An’gel wasn’t in the mood for an hour-long conversation. She was tempted not to answer, but good manners prevailed.

“Hello, Lottie, how are you?”

“Oh, An’gel, it’s terrible, I’m in total shock. I had no idea Sarinda was such a heavy drinker in private. It goes to show how little we really know each other, doesn’t it? Poor thing. She must have been lonely. She reeked of bourbon when I found her.” Lottie sobbed into the phone.

“What on earth are you talking about?” An’gel asked, bewildered from the gush of words. “Has something happened to Sarinda?”

Lottie sobbed again, then said, “She’s dead. I found her ten minutes ago at the bottom of the stairs.”

CHAPTER 5

An’gel went numb with horror. Lottie’s words began to sink in. Sarinda Hetherington was dead . She didn’t want to believe it. Surely Lottie, who got hysterical over the least little thing, was mistaken. An’gel felt her common sense return. Lottie had got it wrong.

She spoke sharply into the phone. “Listen to me, Lottie. Have you called 911 yet? Sarinda may need help.”

“She’s dead, I tell you. Dead, dead, dead.” Lottie chanted the last three words, and An’gel would have given anything to be able to shake the woman back to reality at that moment.

“Did you call 911?” An’gel noticed that Dickce looked alarmed. “Sarinda fell down the stairs,” she said in an aside. Dickce sank into a chair and stared at her sister.

An’gel repeated her question again, and finally Lottie answered in the affirmative. “The ambulance is on the way. I checked her pulse, and she’s dead. I swear she is.”

“Hang on. Sister and I will be on our way there as soon as we can.” An’gel mimed cranking the car, and Dickce stood and hurried out of the room in search of her purse. “Lottie, did you hear me?” She waited, but no response came.

“Drat the woman,” An’gel muttered when she realized Lottie had ended the call. She debated calling back but figured it would be a waste of time.

Dickce hurried in with her purse and brandished the car keys. “Let’s go. Fill me in on the way.”

Two minutes later the Lexus headed down the driveway, Dickce at the wheel. An’gel shared the gist of Lottie’s call with Dickce.

“I never realized Sarinda had a drinking problem,” Dickce said when An’gel finished. “Had you?”

An’gel stared intently through the windshield into the dark night. “Don’t forget to be on the lookout for deer.”