Миранда Джеймс - Dead With The Wind

An’gel smiled. She waited a moment, then she asked the question that had to be asked.

“Other than the fact that he needs money pretty desperately,” she said, “why do you think Horace could be behind these nasty incidents? Has he ever done anything of this sort before?”

Jacqueline shook her head. “No, and that’s the one thing that makes me a bit doubtful. He can be really hard when it comes to business. He’s hard on Trey and makes him toe the line, even when Trey tries to get around him on something. But I’ve never seen him be vicious or vindictive.”

An’gel believed her. Jacqueline and Horace had been married for nearly fifteen years, and surely in that time, if Horace were capable of such revolting behavior, Jacqueline would have seen some evidence of it.

“In that case,” An’gel said, “I think Horace is probably not the culprit. With him off the list, along with Jackson, whom does that leave us with?”

“Estelle,” Jacqueline said promptly. “There’s always been something about her that I’ve never trusted. She’s sly, and that is a quality in a person that I simply can’t stand.”

An’gel found it hard to disagree with her goddaughter. Sly was a good word for Estelle. An’gel would also have added passive-aggressive because she thought Estelle was manipulative, particularly when it came to Mireille.

“Estelle, certainly,” An’gel said. “But we have to consider others as well.” She hesitated a moment. “I hate to ask this, but what about Sondra?”

Jacqueline looked offended for a moment, but then appeared to consider the question seriously. She finally said, “I understand why you mention her, but I really don’t think she would have done those things. She might have broken the ornaments and not told Maman , but she wouldn’t have done it deliberately.” She smiled briefly. “I know she wouldn’t have dared touch the prayer book, because she was superstitious about anything religious like that.”

An’gel wasn’t totally convinced, but for the moment she simply nodded. With both Sondra and Mireille now dead, there was no way to know the truth.

“What about Trey?” she asked. “He doesn’t live here, does he?”

“No,” Jacqueline said. “He has a small house in St. Ignatiusville. Horace insisted he move out after he got Sondra pregnant.”

“Would he take it on himself to persecute Mireille to help his father?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Jacqueline said. “He always wants to please Horace and show his father that he can be every bit as astute a businessman as Horace. But I’ve never seen him be vicious either. He has a temper, I’ll admit that, but once he boils over, he usually calms down quickly.”

A person with a temperament like that was the opposite of one who would coldly carry out a campaign of vindictive acts against another, An’gel reasoned. She was inclined to believe Jacqueline, and that meant scratching another name off the list.

“All right then,” she said. “Who’s left, among persons who are regularly in the house?”

“Lance, of course,” Jacqueline said. “But I think we can discount him because, well, because he’s Lance. He’d never think up anything like that on his own, and he had no reason I can imagine to want to hurt Maman . She’s always been quite fond of him, and he of her, in his way.”

An’gel agreed that Lance wouldn’t have thought of harming Mireille through destruction of beloved possessions, but if another person talked him into it somehow? That was a possibility, even if only a small one. “Is he easily manipulated or suggestible?” An’gel asked.

“I suppose he is,” Jacqueline said. “But he’s at heart a truly sweet boy. He would know that Maman would be hurt by losing things dear to her, and I don’t think he would do it on his own or be manipulated into it because of that.”

“Anyone else?” An’gel said. “What about your lawyer, Mr. Thurston? Is he in the house frequently?”

“Yes, he is,” Jacqueline said. “He’s never married and has no family to speak of, and he was Terence’s best friend. Maman relies on him a lot as an advisor, and he comes to dinner a couple of times a week.” She frowned. “I’d hate to think of him doing such a terrible thing to Maman because she’s so fond of him, almost treats him like a son in some ways. He took Terence’s place, I suppose, because Maman adored Terence, and the two of them were friends from childhood.”

“No one else?” An’gel asked.

“No, no one that’s here on a regular basis,” Jacqueline said.

An’gel felt frustrated because Jacqueline had reasonable arguments to explain why almost everyone on the list couldn’t, or wouldn’t, be the person behind the nasty tricks on Mireille.

Almost everyone, she thought. Everyone except Estelle.

She was so lost in thought she didn’t hear Benjy enter the room. He startled her when he spoke.

“Excuse me, ladies, but Estelle wanted me to tell everyone lunch is ready.”

“Thank you, Benjy.” Jacqueline rose. “Do you know where Tippy is?”

“Yes, ma’am. She’s with Miss Dickce in the kitchen. I thought I’d eat in the kitchen with her, and then take her upstairs to play or to nap,” Benjy said diffidently. “Does she take a nap in the afternoon?”

“Usually,” Jacqueline said, “though she can be difficult to settle down sometimes. If you can get her to be still for a few minutes, though, she’ll drop right off.”

“If you don’t mind me having Peanut and Endora in her room, I’m pretty sure I can get her to be still.” Benjy grinned. “I’ll tell her the animals need a nap.”

Jacqueline smiled. “I don’t mind at all. I may have to think about getting a dog or a cat for Tippy. We always used to have both in the house, but not since Tippy was born.” Her face darkened for a moment. “Someone told Sondra that old wives’ tale about a cat sucking away a baby’s breath, and after that she didn’t want an animal in the house.”

Benjy obviously didn’t know how to reply to that, so An’gel spoke to save him any embarrassment.

“Peanut and Endora are smart and well behaved,” she said. “They won’t harm Tippy, both Benjy and I can promise you that.”

“I’m not worried,” Jacqueline said. “I really appreciate you looking after my granddaughter.” She nodded at Benjy. “I think I’ll go wash up before we eat, if you’ll excuse me.” She walked out of the room after An’gel nodded.

“I never heard that,” Benjy said. “About a cat sucking away a baby’s breath. That’s crazy.”

An’gel shook her head. “Folklore, I suppose. Who knows how it got started? Probably something to do with witches and their familiars, who were usually black cats.”

“Interesting,” Benjy said. “I guess maybe people thought witches sent their cats to harm babies.”

“Something like that.” An’gel rose. “Enough of that morbid subject. I need to freshen up a bit myself. Thanks for all your help.”

“My pleasure.” Benjy smiled. “I’ll head back to the kitchen. I’ll need to take Peanut out again later this afternoon, so if you or Miss Dickce could take over for a little while, that would be great.”

“One of us will,” An’gel said. She intended for it to be Dickce, but she wouldn’t tell Benjy that.

They parted ways at the stairs, and An’gel trod up to her room, right off the landing at the back of the house. She went first to the bathroom to wash her hands, then into her room to check her hair and makeup. The vanity stood next to a window that looked out over the backyard toward the servants’ quarters, and when she finished her appraisal of her hair and makeup, An’gel stood and surveyed the scene.