Миранда Джеймс - Dead With The Wind

“No, it wasn’t her heart,” An’gel said. “She was poisoned.”

Jacqueline shot up from the divan. “Poisoned? Oh, dear lord.” She sank back down. “That’s horrendous. Why would someone murder her?”

“Because she knew something that Sondra’s murderer didn’t want her to tell anyone else.” An’gel leaned toward Jacqueline. “Estelle told me at least twice that she knew things, and she said it in a way that led me to believe she was planning to blackmail someone. For all I know, she tried, and the murderer poisoned her.”

She went on to explain the figure she thought she had seen, and she repeated what Jackson had told her about Estelle’s allergy to peanuts.

Jacqueline nodded. “Yes, she was deathly afraid of peanuts in any form.” She covered her face with her hands and said something, but it was too muffled for An’gel to understand.

“What did you say?” she demanded.

Jacqueline dropped her hands and clasped them together in her lap. Her expression one of anguish, she stared at An’gel. “I said what an awful mess this is. What a nightmare.” Tears rolled down her face.

An’gel reached over and squeezed Jacqueline’s hands. “Yes, dear, I know. That’s why we need to do whatever we can to put an end to this. There is something evil at work, and it has to be stopped.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Jacqueline said. “But how? I’m terrified of what might happen next. Is someone staying with Tippy? Maybe I need to get home and look after her myself.” She half rose from the divan but then dropped down again.

“Tippy is safe,” An’gel said. “Either Dickce or Benjy will be with her at all times, and they won’t let her out of their sight. They will protect her. There’s also Peanut. He has apparently taken a shine to Tippy, and you can bet he won’t let anybody hurt her if he’s anywhere nearby.”

“Thank you,” Jacqueline said. “If something happens to her, I don’t know what I’d do.”

“She’s going to be fine,” An’gel said firmly. “We are going to figure out how to put an end to this, and you and she will both be safe.”

Jacqueline nodded. “What can we do?”

“The first thing we have to do is establish the motive for Sondra’s death,” An’gel said. “Once we know that, everything else should fall into place.”

Her goddaughter stared expectantly at her, so An’gel continued. “In my mind, there are two possible motives. One is passion, the other is greed. Until a little while ago, I was convinced, as was Dickce, by the way, that greed was at the root of this. We were certain that someone was in desperate need of money and killed Sondra because he wanted access to her inheritance.”

“You mean Horace, don’t you?” Jacqueline said sadly.

“Possibly,” An’gel said. “He is in deep trouble financially, probably far deeper than he’s told you. But he’s not the only one we considered. Dickce and I are highly suspicious of your lawyer. I even went to the bank just now to talk to Mr. Montgomery because he is the other trustee.” She sighed. “But he assured me there was no way Thurston has embezzled any of Sondra’s money. If he’s telling the truth, then I think we have to look at passion as the motive.”

“If Farley Montgomery says there’s no way the money can be embezzled, then you can believe him.”

For a moment An’gel thought she was having an auditory hallucination. She was looking at Jacqueline, but it was Mireille’s voice she heard. Jacqueline was staring past An’gel and not talking, however.

An’gel turned in the direction Jacqueline was staring, and she almost fainted.

Mireille Champlain stood in the doorway looking at her, every bit as alive as An’gel was.

CHAPTER 35

“I’m sorry, Tante An’gel,” Jacqueline said, sounding stricken. “I wanted to tell you, but Maman insisted that you had to be kept in the dark, along with Tante Dickce.”

“Yes, I did,” Mireille said as she advanced into the room. She sat between An’gel and Jacqueline on the divan.

An’gel’s heart was beating so hard she thought she might pass out. She did her best to slow her breathing and the beat of her heart while she stared at her cousin. Mireille looked perfectly fine, as if she hadn’t had any kind of heart attack at all.

“I, too, am sorry, An’gel,” Mireille said as she took one of An’gel’s hands and rubbed it between both of hers. “I hated to put you and Dickce through all this, but I couldn’t take the chance that one of you, without meaning to, might give the whole thing away.”

An’gel wanted to be angry with Mireille, but she sensed that her cousin was frightened. “I’ll get over it. I’m too happy and relieved to be upset for long,” An’gel said. “May I tell Dickce?”

Mireille sighed. “I’d rather you didn’t, but I know how close the two of you are. You might as well. I’m hoping this will all be over soon, anyway, if we can simply figure out a way to make it happen.”

“If you’ll tell me why you decided to carry out this elaborate charade, perhaps I can help. I want to get this over with, too, before anyone else is hurt. Frankly, I’m concerned about Jacqueline and Tippy’s safety,” An’gel said.

“I’m worried, too,” Mireille replied. “I’ve taken steps to close the one loophole that leaves them vulnerable, but we have no proof as to what’s really going on or exactly who is responsible.”

“We’ll figure it out together,” An’gel said. She was feeling almost back to normal again and ready to tackle the problem. “First, though, I’m afraid I have bad news for you.”

Mireille gasped and squeezed her hand hard, and An’gel hastily pulled her hand free. “Sorry,” Mireille said. “Involuntary reaction. What is it?”

“Estelle died earlier today,” An’gel said. “She was poisoned.”

Mireille closed her eyes, crossed herself, and uttered a quiet prayer. Her eyes fluttered open when she finished, and An’gel saw that they were damp. Mireille brushed the tears away with a handkerchief she pulled from her sleeve.

“Poor Estelle,” she said. “She was so unhappy. I tried my best to help her, but it was never enough.”

“You did more than enough for her, Maman ,” Jacqueline said hotly. “She was sour and mean-spirited.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Mireille said. “But she was my friend.” She looked at An’gel. “Why do you think she was killed?”

“I think she was trying to blackmail someone,” An’gel said bluntly. “Now tell me, did Estelle know about this charade of yours?”

Mireille shook her head. “Goodness, no. Estelle was not in the least discreet. I could never trust her with anything like this. The whole thing would have fallen apart immediately.”

“She told me she knew the moment you died,” An’gel said. “Frankly, it was eerie. She seemed so convinced.”

“She fancied herself as a psychic,” Jacqueline said scornfully. “She was no more psychic than I am. Which is not at all.”

“Estelle was always trying to make herself seem special,” Mireille said. “She could never let go of the bitterness that stemmed from her poverty-stricken childhood.”

“That truly is sad,” An’gel said. Estelle had evidently been trapped by her own inability to let go of her unfortunate past, and An’gel felt a surge of pity for her. Time to focus on the present, however. She had more questions for her resurrected cousin and her goddaughter.

“I imagine Jacqueline has already told you this,” An’gel said, “but I discovered that your grandmother’s wedding dress was intact and in the bottom drawer of your chifforobe. I began to wonder about that whole incident, Sondra’s tantrum and tearing up the dress. Jacqueline said someone must have put Sondra up to it.”