Миранда Джеймс - Dead With The Wind

An’gel stood quickly. “Good idea. You don’t mind staying here?”

“Not at all,” Dickce said. She loved small children, whereas An’gel felt uneasy around them. She was as curious as An’gel about what was going on out front, but she knew Tippy needed an adult with her and was content to watch her.

An’gel hurried out of the kitchen, and Dickce watched Tippy eat. The child finished her cereal and pushed the bowl away. She reached for the saucer with the pieces of banana and examined them carefully before she chose a piece to pop into her mouth.

“You haven’t introduced me to your friend.” Dickce nodded at the bear in the chair beside Tippy. “I’d like to say hello to him, but I don’t know his name.”

“He can’t tawk.” Tippy stared at her for a moment. “But if you want to say hewwo to him, his name is Wance.” She stuck another slice of fruit in her mouth and chewed.

Dickce was in a quandary. Was the bear’s name really Wance ? With the child’s lisp, she wasn’t sure. Perhaps his name was Lance instead.

“Oh, is he named after your mommy’s friend Lance?” Dickce asked.

Tippy giggled. “Yes, Wance is siwwy wike my bear, and that’s why I named him Wance.” She regarded the bear with affection. “Siwwy bear.” She went back to eating her banana slices.

What a dear little thing she is . Dickce’s heart ached at the thought of having to explain to the child that her mother was gone and wouldn’t ever come back. She knew it was not her place to do it, but unless Jacqueline returned soon, she didn’t know who would.

Poor Jacqueline . Dickce ached even more. She couldn’t imagine how the loss of a child, even one as difficult as Sondra, would affect a mother. She prayed again that Mireille would recover, but Sondra’s death might be too much for Mireille. Then Jacqueline would be doubly bereft.

Dickce mentally shook herself for dwelling on the tragedy. I need to try to be cheerful for Tippy’s sake . She gave the child a bright smile.

“I like silly bears especially,” she said, and Tippy rewarded her with a smile. “Has anyone ever told you the story of a very silly bear named Winnie the Pooh?”

Tippy nodded. “Gweat-gwanny telled me about him and Pigwet and Tigger. I wike Pigwet because he’s funny. We watched dem on TV, too.”

“I bet I know some stories about Winnie and Piglet and Tigger that no one else knows,” Dickce said, improvising. “When you finish your banana, how about we go to your room, and I’ll tell them to you?”

Tippy nodded. “Yes, pwease. I wuv stowies.” She stuffed the two remaining slices in her mouth and chewed rapidly. After she swallowed, she grabbed Lance’s ear and got out of her chair.

Dickce insisted on washing Tippy’s hands first. The right one was sticky from the banana. Tippy submitted patiently to the washing, and then they left the kitchen. Dickce prayed that she could get the child up the stairs without her seeing any of the activity that by now must be going on outside. She’d heard the siren of the arriving ambulance not long after she and An’gel entered the kitchen.

To her relief, the front door was closed, and the hall was empty. Tippy scrambled up the stairs ahead of her, poor Lance bouncing on most of them, and Dickce did her best to keep up. Tippy reached the third floor when Dickce had barely made it to the second-floor landing. When she made it up the last flight, she spied Tippy coming out of a door to the right of the stairs.

Tippy had a finger to her lips, and Lance was no longer in evidence. “We has to be quiet,” she said in a loud whisper. “Wance is asweep in my woom.”

Dickce smiled. “Okay,” she whispered back.

Tippy turned and walked slowly into her room. Dickce followed, trying to be quiet, but her shoes squeaked on the polished wooden floorboards. When she stepped into the room after Tippy, she expected to see the bear tucked up in bed.

Instead, to her shock, she found Lance Perigord sound asleep on the floor at the foot of the bed.

CHAPTER 15

An’gel was glad to escape the kitchen. Small children made her nervous, but Dickce didn’t seem to mind them at all. An’gel’s curiosity wouldn’t let her rest until she knew what was happening in the front yard. On the way she said more prayers for Mireille. If her cousin survived to come out of the hospital, she might well collapse again when she learned of her granddaughter’s death.

She closed the door behind her when she stepped onto the verandah. There was no point in letting a lot of bugs in the house, and heaven only knew how many had already gotten in. Although, she reflected, the storm might have blown or washed most of them away.

The EMTs were climbing out of the ambulance, and while An’gel watched, a St. Ignatiusville Police squad car came to a halt several feet away from the ambulance. A heavyset man got out of the passenger side, while a tall, much thinner man climbed out from behind the wheel.

Estelle and Jackson stood at the railing, watching the scene unfold. An’gel joined them. Horace, Trey, and Thurston stood in the yard on the gravel path about a dozen feet from where Sondra’s body lay. Benjy, she realized, must have gone back to the den to stay with Endora and Peanut.

The EMTs went to work with the body, while the two police officers came up to Horace, Trey, and Thurston. They spoke in low tones, and An’gel was frustrated that she couldn’t hear anything.

After a few moments’ conversation, Horace jerked his head toward the verandah, then he turned and pointed up at the house. An’gel figured he was pointing out the location of Sondra’s room, at the front of the third floor, on the right side if one were facing Willowbank.

An’gel decided to join the men. She walked around the silent Estelle and Jackson and down the steps. As she approached, she heard Horace say, “. . . fascinated by storms. Didn’t bother her at all. It would be like her to go out on the balcony to watch.”

“Don’t reckon on it myself,” the heavyset man said. “Pure-dee old dangerous, doing something like that.”

“Sondra was fearless,” Trey said with a catch in his voice. “I argued with her I don’t know how many times not to pull a stupid stunt like that, but she never paid any attention to anything I said.” Those last words sounded bitter to An’gel.

“Such a tragic thing,” Thurston said. “And on the eve of her wedding.” He shook his head dolefully.

The heavyset cop, whose name badge An’gel couldn’t read, nodded. “Yep, just like that Melusine Devereux. Y’all heard tell of that old story?”

Horace nodded. “Just last night, as a matter of fact. The housekeeper was carrying on about it while she was serving dinner. Even said Sondra had chosen the same wedding date as her.”

“Well, I’ll be,” the cop said. “Is that a fact? Downright spooky if you was to ask me.”

The taller, younger officer tapped his superior on the arm. “Coroner’s just arrived, sir.”

The older cop grimaced. “She has, has she? Well, I hope she don’t mind getting her dainty little feet muddy, ’cause this is sure messy after all that dang rain. Well, why don’t y’all go on up to the house? No point in y’all standing around here while we investigate. I’ll let you know what Dr. Kovacs has to say.”

Horace, Trey, and Thurston turned away and headed back to the house, but An’gel lingered. She wanted to see the female coroner. She didn’t appreciate the officer’s attitude toward a professional woman. The officer had his back to An’gel, and she hoped he stayed that way.

A tall, slender, dark-haired woman dressed in a rain slicker and rubber boots came into view and made her way up the path to where the policemen waited.