Миранда Джеймс - Dead With The Wind

She flipped the light switch but left the curtains closed. She stood by the door and surveyed the room to determine the likeliest place to look. Her eyes settled on the old chifforobe in the corner. Its doors were open, and An’gel noted the two long drawers at the bottom, under the compartment for hanging clothes.

She doubted her cousin would keep the dress on a hanger because of its age. The drawers were likelier. They were low, and An’gel had to squat to open them. She started with the bottom drawer, grasping the elderly drawer pulls and sliding the drawer gently out.

There it was. An’gel, even though she had halfway expected to find it, was still a bit surprised. She knew it was the wedding dress because she had seen both Mireille and Jacqueline walk down the aisle in it. The fabric looked fragile, and An’gel wondered why Mireille had been so insistent that Sondra wear it. Surely any damage would have been irreparable.

An’gel slid the drawer closed and slowly got to her feet. Her muscles protested, and she leaned against the chifforobe for a moment to rest.

Sondra had not destroyed the antique gown. So what had she destroyed instead?

CHAPTER 26

Other questions followed quickly. Did Jacqueline know the wedding dress was still intact? And who cleaned up the mess Sondra made?

The answer to that last question was Estelle, An’gel reasoned. Sondra wouldn’t have, and Jacqueline had gone with her mother to the hospital.

When Estelle picked up the scattered pieces of fabric, had she realized they did not come from the antique gown?

An’gel wanted to talk to Jacqueline first. Given the loss of her mother and her daughter, Jacqueline might not care in the least about the survival of a piece of clothing. Still, An’gel thought it better to tell her now than have her find it on her own and get a potentially unsettling surprise.

After she talked to Jacqueline, she would confront Estelle. This time she would demand some answers, even if Estelle tried to stonewall her with her usual rudeness.

Once lunch was over, An’gel decided. She left Mireille’s room, making sure the door was securely closed behind her. She walked downstairs. When she heard voices coming from the front parlor, she turned that way instead of toward the dining room.

Inside she found Horace and Jacqueline. Horace had his cell phone to his ear while Jacqueline watched him from her perch on one of the armchairs.

“That’ll be fine,” Horace said. “Soon as you can get somebody here.” He ended the call and snapped his phone into a holder attached to his belt. “They should be here in about an hour, Roy said.”

“That’s good,” Jacqueline said, “though I wish someone had thought to call them earlier.”

“Hello, my dear,” An’gel said. She nodded to Horace. “Are you feeling any better?”

“A little,” Jacqueline said. She still appeared drawn and tired to An’gel, but perhaps the nap had helped.

“Miss An’gel, I’ll have to be heading back to town in a few,” Horace said, “and Jackie’s got things to do. I got a crew coming to do the cleanup upstairs. Would you mind showing them where to go when they get here?”

“I’ll be happy to,” An’gel said. “Anything to help.”

“Thank you, Tante An’gel.” Jacqueline smiled briefly. “I’d rather not be here while they’re up there.” Her voice faltered on the last two words, and for a moment An’gel thought her goddaughter was going to break down. Jacqueline rallied, however, and asked An’gel to have a seat. “Estelle won’t have lunch ready for another ten minutes or so.”

An’gel chose a seat on the sofa near Jacqueline. She wished Horace would depart because she was eager to question her goddaughter about the dress.

“I’ll grab something in town.” Horace moved close to his wife, leaned down, and kissed her cheek. “You take it easy, sweetheart, and I’ll see you later.” He ducked his head in An’gel’s direction. “Miss An’gel.” Then he strode from the room, pulling his cell phone loose from its holster as he walked.

Jacqueline stared after him with what An’gel thought was a curious expression. Affection, An’gel decided, but laced with doubt. Did Jacqueline suspect her husband was responsible for Sondra’s death?

“I’m glad we have a few minutes alone together,” An’gel said, gently claiming her goddaughter’s attention. “I have something to tell you, and I’m afraid it’s a bit startling.”

Jacqueline appeared alarmed. “It’s nothing to do with Tippy, I hope.”

An’gel shook her head. “No, Tippy is fine. Dickce and Benjy are taking turns looking after her. She’ll be safe with them.”

Jacqueline sighed. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am. There’s so much to do, but I can’t take her with me. I haven’t even explained to her about Sondra.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “How do I tell her she’ll never see her mother again?”

“Oh, my dear.” An’gel got up from the sofa and went to her goddaughter. She bent down and wrapped her arms around Jacqueline, who leaned against her. An’gel rocked her goddaughter gently.

Jacqueline sighed. “Thank you. I’ll be okay.” She gently loosed herself from An’gel’s grasp, and An’gel resumed her seat.

“If you’d like one of us with you when you tell her, all you have to do is say so,” An’gel said.

“I’ll think about it,” Jacqueline replied. “Now, what is this startling news you have?”

An’gel pulled the scrap of fabric from her sleeve and leaned forward to hand it to Jacqueline, who looked at it blankly.

“What is this?” she said.

“I thought it was a piece of cloth from the antique wedding dress,” An’gel said. “I found it in the hall under a table. When I examined it more closely, however, I realized the fabric wasn’t old enough, nor is it satin.”

“I don’t understand,” Jacqueline said. “If it didn’t come from the dress, what is it?”

“I don’t know,” An’gel said, “but I aim to find out. Once I realized it wasn’t from the dress, I wondered if the dress was still intact. I suspected, you see, that Sondra might have cut something else up. I confess I went snooping in your mother’s room, and I found the dress, unharmed, in the bottom drawer of the chifforobe.”

To her surprise, Jacqueline laughed. She stopped abruptly, however, and dropped the scrap onto the coffee table.

“Do you know what it came from?” An’gel asked.

Jacqueline nodded. “It must be from the replica Maman had made of the gown a few years ago. The last time I saw it, it was hanging in her closet.” She shook her head. “I suppose when Sondra went looking for the gown, she must have found the replica instead. Probably didn’t realize it was not the original.” Her eyes filled suddenly with tears.

An’gel started to get up, but Jacqueline waved her back. “I’m all right. I’m happy the gown wasn’t harmed, for Maman’ s sake. She’ll—” Jacqueline halted abruptly.

“Yes, I know,” An’gel said. “It’s hard to realize she’s gone.”

“I still don’t understand why Sondra would do such a thing.” Jacqueline picked up the scrap of fabric and stared at it. “It wasn’t like her to do something so cruel.”

An’gel was taken aback. From her own assessment of Sondra’s character, the girl’s act of destruction wasn’t all that surprising. She decided not to say this to her goddaughter. Instead she settled for a blander statement. “She was terribly angry over Mireille’s refusal to deal with Estelle. Perhaps she was so enraged she acted out of character.”

Jacqueline shook her head. “She was angry, certainly, but I’ve seen her that angry numerous times, and she never did anything like this.” She brandished the scrap. “I’d almost swear someone put her up to it, but I can’t imagine who would.”