Миранда Джеймс - Dead With The Wind

“I want to talk to you.” She walked closer to Estelle and stood by the bed. She sighed and stroked the beautiful Double Wedding Ring quilt that lay across the bed. Mireille’s mother had made it as a bride gift fifty years ago.

“What about?” Estelle asked.

An’gel knew the woman would rather be by herself and could sympathize with her, but Estelle couldn’t hide herself away completely when there was so much to be done.

“I wondered if Jacqueline had a chance to talk to you about any of the plans for Mireille’s service,” An’gel said. “My sister and I will be here and will be glad to help any way we can. We can pitch in with the cooking and cleaning, whatever you need.”

“Thank you,” Estelle said, her tone slightly less rude. “Jacqueline hasn’t said anything to me. I tried talking to her when she and Horace got back from the hospital but she told me she didn’t feel up to it.”

“I know she was worn out,” An’gel said. “Maybe I can call the funeral home. Which one is it?”

Estelle snorted. “Won’t do you any good. I called them this morning, and they told me they were waiting to talk to Jacqueline. Nothing’s going to happen till she’s ready to handle it.”

“I see,” An’gel said. She felt frustrated. She really wanted to do something to ease Jacqueline’s burdens, but until Jacqueline was ready, she couldn’t do anything but wait.

“What will you do now?” An’gel asked. “Will you stay on and continue to run the bed-and-breakfast?” She wondered whether Jacqueline would have any interest in it, without Mireille.

“Won’t have any choice, will I?” Estelle’s tone was bitter. “The daughter of the house will get everything, and I won’t get anything. I’ll be out of this place the day after we lay Mireille to rest.”

“Surely Jacqueline won’t make you leave,” An’gel said. “You’re family, aren’t you?”

“Too distant to matter to Jacqueline, only a third cousin once removed,” Estelle said. “With Mireille it was different. Family was family to her. Jacqueline never has liked me, and that bitch of a daughter of hers hated me. I hated her right back. She made everyone around her miserable. Never in my life saw a person as stuck on herself as Sondra.” She chuckled, and the sound made An’gel uneasy. “Look where it got her. Finally got what she deserved.”

In the face of such hatred and spite, An’gel didn’t know how to respond. An’gel couldn’t blame Jacqueline for wanting Estelle out of the house. Who would want to harbor malice like this if she didn’t have to?

An’gel turned and walked out, having decided there was no response she could make. Estelle’s mocking laughter followed her, cut off only when An’gel closed the door.

In the hall she moved to stand in front of the window. The light from the sun warmed her, and she realized how cold she was. She glanced uneasily at Mireille’s door. She knew that Estelle didn’t care for Sondra, and one could hardly blame her for that. But she had never reckoned on the sheer hatred the woman felt for the dead girl.

Had Estelle hated Sondra enough to kill her?

CHAPTER 24

An’gel decided not to linger where she was, in case Estelle came out of Mireille’s room. She didn’t want the housekeeper to catch her standing out there. She thought about climbing up to the third floor to check on Dickce and Tippy, but before she could make up her mind, Jacqueline’s door opened and Horace stepped out.

An’gel stared at him in blank surprise. She thought Horace was at work. She greeted him, and he held up a finger. Then he moved quietly down the hall to the head of the stairs, motioning for An’gel to follow him.

His voice low, Horace said, “Jackie’s sleeping, and I didn’t want to take a chance on waking her up. She’s so wore out from all this mess with her mama and Sondra. I don’t want her getting sick from it. She’ll push herself too hard and then collapse.”

Horace’s expression of concern for his wife seemed genuine, and An’gel warmed to him more than she ever had before.

“Yes, she certainly is,” An’gel replied, matching her tone to his. “I’m worried about her. There’s so much on her right now. If there’s anything Dickce and I can do to help, all you have to do is ask.”

Horace started down the stairs with An’gel beside him. “I sure appreciate that, Miss An’gel,” he said. “This has all been almost more than I can take in myself, and I can’t imagine how hard it is for Jackie.”

“Have you spoken to the police recently?” An’gel asked as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

“No, ma’am,” Horace said. “I saw a cop car here when I drove up a few minutes ago, but I came in the back way and went right upstairs to check on Jackie.”

“You need to hear what Officer Bugg has to say. It’s about Sondra’s death.” An’gel steered him to the front parlor. She heard voices coming from the room. “I believe he is still in here talking to Benjy.”

Horace nodded. He strode into the room, and An’gel followed.

“Hey, Elmont.” Horace stuck out his hand as he reached Bugg. He and the policeman shook hands. “I hear you got something to tell me.”

“That I do, Horace, that I do. Coupla things, actually, and neither one of ’em ain’t good news.” Bugg looked around Horace’s substantial bulk and noticed An’gel. “Ma’am, I’m finished with this young man here, so y’all can go on about your bidness. I’ll let you know if there’s anything else I need from you.”

“Thank you, Officer,” An’gel said, frost in her voice. She did not appreciate Bugg’s tone or his choice of words. Go about my bidness indeed . “Benjy, why don’t we go up and check on Dickce and Tippy?”

Benjy nodded as he slipped around the two police officers but he stopped in front of Horace. “Mr. Mims, I know you’re busy, but I wanted to ask if you’ve heard how Lance is doing. I’ve been babysitting Tippy, and she was asking about him. Seems he usually visits her, and she wondered when he was coming.”

Oh my heavens . An’gel had forgotten all about poor Lance and his altercation with Trey last night. She felt terrible for not thinking about the young man’s welfare even once since the EMTs took him off to the hospital. She also recalled the furious look Horace had shot her way when she informed Trey she would be a witness for Lance if he decided to bring charges of assault.

“Yes, how is he?” she asked. “I’m ashamed I’d forgotten about him until Benjy mentioned him. Was he badly hurt?” She decided not to mention the circumstances. No point in riling Horace up again if she could avoid it. She wanted to question him later about other matters.

Horace looked grim. “Last I heard he was doing okay. Got a pretty hard head on him, apparently. Minor concussion, a black eye, and a bruised nose. They sent him home early this morning.”

An’gel was relieved to hear that Lance’s condition wasn’t more serious.

“You can tell Tippy that Lance won’t be coming to visit anytime soon,” Horace said to Benjy. “Even if she cuts up a fuss, I’m not having that idiot back in this house.”

Benjy flinched at Horace’s tone but said, “Okay, sir.” He moved quickly away from Horace and came to stand beside An’gel.

“That’s one of the things I got to talk to you about, Horace,” Bugg said. He cut a sideways glance at Benjy and An’gel. When neither of them moved, he sighed and went on, “You know how mamas can be when they have only one chick, and that Miz Perigord is more protective than most.” He sniggered. “Reckon she has to be, since that one chick of hers is lucky if he can find his way out of his bedroom in less than three hours.” Behind him, Sanford laughed.