Миранда Джеймс: Dead With The Wind

Benjy raised his glass. “I propose a toast to a safe return home.”

“Hear, hear,” An’gel said, and Dickce nodded. They both raised their glasses, then all three took hearty sips.

The cool liquid felt wonderful going down, and An’gel relaxed even further.

“What were you discussing?” Benjy asked. “I thought I caught Lance’s name when I was coming down the hall.”

“We were talking about him and how I felt sorry for him,” Dickce said. “An’gel, perhaps not so much.”

“He is kind of sad and pitiful,” Benjy said. “Poor guy is the dumbest person I’ve ever met. Too bad he has such a violent temper.”

“The ironic thing is that Sondra and Lance were so much alike,” An’gel said.

“What do you mean?” Dickce said. “Sondra was much smarter than Lance.”

“Yes, she was,” An’gel said, “but I wasn’t talking about intellect. I’ve been thinking about it. They were both beautiful, terribly spoiled, and intent on getting what they wanted, no matter how unrealistic their choices might be. Then Lance ended up killing Sondra because she was taking away perhaps his only chance to achieve his dream.”

“If she hadn’t been so selfish, she might have saved herself, you mean,” Dickce said.

An’gel shrugged. “Perhaps.”

“That was the lawyer’s fault, though, wasn’t it?” Benjy asked. “I guess he convinced her somehow he was in love with her and she should elope with him.”

“That sounds reasonable,” Dickce said. “We won’t ever know for sure, though, unless he decides to confess. I sure would love to know why he thought he had to kill Estelle.”

“I figure she must have seen him around the house, without him realizing it, when he was vandalizing Miss Mireille’s treasures,” Benjy said. “She seemed to kind of pop up out of nowhere when you weren’t expecting her.” He frowned. “She spooked me a couple of times that way.”

“You’re probably right,” Dickce said. “She did something similar to me. All the same, though, I know Mireille will miss her in an odd way.”

“I’m truly sorry for Mireille and Jacqueline for their losses, and little Tippy as well,” An’gel said. “Though a part of me can’t help but think she’ll be better off in the long run without a mother like Sondra.”

“I don’t know,” Dickce said. “Jacqueline and Mireille will be raising her, and they didn’t do such a great job with Sondra.”

“Surely they’ve learned from their mistakes by now.” An’gel grimaced. “Though if Jacqueline is truly serious about taking Horace back after all this mess, she may not have learned anything after all.”

“I think Mireille will talk her out of it,” Dickce said. “She’ll never forgive Horace for what he did, and I can’t say that I blame her.”

“Well, we’re out of it, thank heavens,” An’gel said. “I am not planning on a return to St. Ignatiusville for a long, long time.”

Benjy grinned. “That’s fine with me.” He shifted in his chair, and An’gel heard a crinkling sound. “Oops, I almost forgot.” He stood and extracted a folded piece of paper from his back pocket. He handed it to An’gel and then resumed his seat. “Clementine asked me to give this to you. This lady has been calling the house every day since we’ve been gone. Clementine says she’s having a hissy fit to talk to you.”

An’gel opened the note and immediately wished she hadn’t. She knew why the caller was so insistent. It was almost time to start planning the Athena Garden Club’s spring show, and the caller was obsessive about each tiny detail.

She told Dickce who it was. Dickce grimaced. “You’re not going to call her back now, are you?”

An’gel shook her head as she folded the note and dropped it on the table next to her.

“No, she can wait another day. Tomorrow will be better. It always is.”

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