Миранда Джеймс - Dead With The Wind

The housekeeper turned away as if she neither expected nor needed a response, and that chilled An’gel even more. Estelle went back to carving the ham.

Jackson came back then with An’gel’s handbag. She thanked him as she accepted it. She wondered if Estelle had shared her revelation with the butler. She thought Estelle hadn’t because Jackson would surely have been agitated.

An’gel rummaged in her bag for the phone. She pulled it out and glanced at the screen. She didn’t see the small symbol that alerted her to voice mail messages, nor did she see the symbol for a text message. She dropped the phone back in her bag and set it on the floor beside her. “No calls,” she said before she picked up her sandwich and resumed eating.

Jackson smiled. “Then I reckon that’s good news.” He started arranging sandwiches on a silver serving tray.

An’gel felt better with food and coffee in her stomach, but at the same time she felt uneasy. Try and dismiss them as she might, she found Estelle’s words unsettling. Did the woman really have some kind of psychic bond with Mireille?

Horace hurried into the room and startled them all. “Jackson, can you put a couple of those sandwiches in a bag for me, and get me a travel mug with coffee? I’m going to go to the hospital. I can’t get Jacqueline to answer her phone, and I’ve got to see her before she comes home.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Horace,” Jackson said. “I’ll have it ready for you in a couple of minutes.”

“Thanks,” Horace said. He looked really worried, An’gel decided. Was it truly because Jacqueline wasn’t responding to his calls, or was it because of his son’s violent behavior? He’d better be praying that Lance wasn’t seriously hurt and that Trey hadn’t had any hand in Sondra’s death.

CHAPTER 17

The back door opened, and Peanut bounded into the kitchen, pulling Benjy behind him. Endora struggled to maintain her perch on Benjy’s shoulder, and Benjy winced. Endora must have dug her claws in to keep from falling, An’gel realized.

“Peanut, bad boy. Halt.” Benjy held firmly to the leash, and the labradoodle stopped. “Now sit.” Peanut sat.

Benjy set down the large canvas tote he held in his free hand. Endora scrambled down from his shoulder and climbed into the bag.

“Just look at that mud you tracked in here.” Estelle glared as she pointed to Peanut’s tracks on the linoleum. “I don’t have time to go mopping the floor at this time of night. What were you thinking, bringing that filthy dog in here with mud all over him?”

“I’ll clean it up.” An’gel rose from the table and walked over to Benjy. She patted Peanut’s head, and his tail thumped the floor. “Where’s the mop?”

Estelle indicated a door behind the table. “In there. Bucket and rags, too. Help yourself.” She turned to Jackson. “You’d better get a move on and get those sandwiches to Horace. He’ll be in a tearing hurry to get to the hospital.”

An’gel thought Estelle might make a comment alluding to Mireille’s death, but she didn’t. She wiped her hands on a dish cloth and then hurried out of the room. Jackson busied himself preparing Horace’s requested meal.

“I’ll mop up,” Benjy told An’gel. I should have wiped Peanut’s feet before we came in the kitchen, but I was in too big a hurry to talk to you.

“Is something wrong at the cottages?” An’gel frowned. “Were they damaged during the storm?”

“Everything seemed okay,” Benjy said. “The electricity is off down there, though. Good thing I had a flashlight.” He shrugged as he looked around the well-lit kitchen. “Guess they’re on a different circuit. I’m glad we’re going to stay here tonight.”

“Yes, me, too.” An’gel didn’t relish spending the night in a cottage without electricity either.

Benjy rummaged in the canvas tote and brought out an old towel. Endora grabbed at it with her front paws, evidently not happy at being disturbed. She settled down in the bag after Benjy knelt nearby to clean off the dog’s dirty feet.

“I’ll be back in a minute, Miss An’gel,” Jackson said. “Y’all let me know if there’s anything you need.” He smiled at Benjy. “I bet you wouldn’t mind a couple of these here sandwiches.”

“No, sir, I sure wouldn’t,” Benjy said. “Thank you. As soon as I get the floor cleaned, I’ll help myself.”

Jackson nodded and headed out of the kitchen with the food and drink Horace had requested earlier.

Alone now in the kitchen with Benjy and the animals, An’gel resumed her seat to finish her sandwich and coffee. While Benjy competently and quickly cleaned Peanut’s muddy paw prints from the floor, she told him about the unpleasant scenes he had missed.

Benjy winced when An’gel related the part where Trey decked Lance with a punch. “A friend of mine in California got sucker-punched like that once,” he said. “Caused brain damage and everything. Besides getting hit in the face, he fell against a table and banged his head really hard against the edge.”

“How terrible,” An’gel said. “How much of his normal functions did he recover?”

Benjy put the mop and bucket in the closet and shut the door. “About ninety percent, I’d say. He never was quite the same afterwards. It was really tough to watch him struggle with things, like talking.” He shook his head. “Poor guy. I hope Lance does better.”

He went to the sink to wash his hands before helping himself to sandwiches and milk. An’gel watched him but her mind was suddenly elsewhere. For a few minutes she had been able to banish Estelle’s startling announcement from her thoughts, but now it came back to unsettle her again. She prayed the housekeeper was wrong, simply the victim of an overactive imagination and a pessimistic heart.

Jackson returned from his errand with an announcement. “The police are heading upstairs to Miss Sondra’s room. I sure hope they don’t make too much noise and wake up Miss Tippy, or Miss Dickce’ll never get her to sleep again.”

“I think I’ll go up and check on Dickce and Tippy,” An’gel said. She picked up her phone but left her handbag on the table. “Benjy, once you’re done eating, I think you’d better stay downstairs until the police are finished on the third floor.”

Benjy nodded. “Better to keep the guys out of the way.” Endora was still napping in the tote bag while Peanut stretched out under the table, his head near Benjy’s feet.

An’gel realized she probably hadn’t fooled her ward with her stated intention of checking on Dickce and Tippy. Benjy knew her well enough by now to know that she would also want to see what was going on in Sondra’s bedroom. And since Sondra’s bedroom was near the third-floor landing, she would have to pass it to get to Tippy’s bedroom at the back of the house.

An’gel climbed slowly, thinking about the manner of Sondra’s death. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t really believe that it was an accident. The whole story of Melusine Devereux was too coincidental, and An’gel wondered vaguely if it had given someone an idea about making a murder look like a freak accident.

As she neared the third floor, An’gel heard the murmur of voices coming from Sondra’s bedroom. She stepped onto the landing and moved cautiously closer to the door. When she peered inside, she almost cried out in shock.

The storm had wrought destruction through the doors that opened onto the gallery. The furnishings had been moved about, pictures knocked off the wall, small tables and chairs overturned, and water—there was water on the floor, in the sodden rugs and bedclothes and in Sondra’s clothes flung about the room. An’gel felt sick over the damage to the room and to the antiques it contained, then felt ashamed of herself for being more upset about the room and its contents than about its occupant.