Миранда Джеймс: Dead With The Wind

“So she marries her dumb gay friend and promises him he can go to New York,” Dickce said. “Maybe he wants to be a model.”

“He sure looks like one,” Benjy said. “I’m surprised someone hasn’t discovered him before now.”

“He probably hasn’t been anywhere that an agency could discover him,” An’gel said. “His family apparently doesn’t have much money.”

“You’d think, with a son who looks like he does, they might have made an effort to get him noticed by somebody,” Dickce said. Endora nudged her again, because Dickce had stopped the attention. She rubbed the cat’s head in response. “He could be a supermodel, for all we know. They make huge amounts of money.”

“Do you think her mom knows he may be gay?” Benjy asked.

Dickce shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Jacqueline has figured it out. She’s probably so grateful to have Sondra off her hands, she doesn’t care.”

“True,” An’gel said. “But Mireille is another matter. I suspect she has no idea her prospective grandson-in-law might be gay.”

“Even if she did, do you really think she would speak up?” Dickce said. “You know how she is, she’d rather stick her head in the sand than cause a fuss.”

“I’d like to think there are some situations where she’d show a bit of backbone,” An’gel replied tartly. “But sadly it wouldn’t surprise me if she didn’t.”

“You’ll have to guard your tongue at dinner tonight.” Dickce aimed a pointed glance at her sister. “The last thing the situation needs is for you to start expressing your forthright opinion.”

An’gel scowled. “Credit me with some tact and discretion, Sister. I’m not going to make an issue of this in public.” She paused. “However, I might talk to Jacqueline about it in private.”

“Have you ever considered the fact that this really is none of our business? Yes, they are family, but we don’t live here, and we’re certainly not part of their daily lives. I think you’d best keep your advice to yourself for once.”

Dickce waited for her sister to throw a hissy fit. An’gel didn’t like to be told she shouldn’t do something.

An’gel did not erupt, much to Dickce’s surprise and relief. Instead, she simply replied, “Perhaps you’re right. I think I’ll wait and see if Jacqueline asks for my advice.”

“That’s a good plan.” Dickce cast a glance at Benjy and was amused to catch him smothering a grin.

An’gel rose after gently dislodging Peanut’s head and front paws from her lap. “I am going to rest for a while before we have to get ready for dinner. You should, too, Sister. I expect we’re in for quite a long and tedious evening.”

Dickce tried to lift Endora from her lap to set her on the floor, but the cat resisted. Endora was obviously in one of her clingy moods, probably because of the strange surroundings, and Dickce was secretly flattered. Endora occasionally sought attention from An’gel, but the cat generally preferred Benjy or Dickce.

“You can come take a nap with me,” Dickce said to the cat, and Endora relaxed her claws. She allowed Dickce to lift her into her arms and carry her out of the room.

“I’m going to take Peanut out for a walk,” Benjy called after the sisters. “I have my cell phone if you need me.”

Dickce replied, “That sounds good. Wear him out a bit so he’ll be quiet while we’re at dinner.”

An’gel opened the door to their cottage, and Dickce entered, Endora happily riding in her arms. The cat remained in position until Dickce reached her bedroom. Then Endora leapt from her arms onto the bed and started her ritual circling on one of the pillows. While Dickce disrobed and slipped on a cotton nightgown, Endora curled up on the pillow, tucked in her head, and went to sleep.

Amused, Dickce slid into the bed, under the top layer of cover, and lay on her side facing the cat. She watched the gentle breathing of the feline and soon her own eyelids closed. She drifted into sleep thinking drowsily about dinner, hoping it wouldn’t be dreary and rife with tension.

A loud bang jerked her awake. She sat up in bed, and Endora jumped to the floor and scooted under the bed.

What on earth? Hastily she donned a robe and slipped on her shoes. She met An’gel in the living room of the cottage, similarly attired. “What was that?” she asked.

“Sounded like a car crash,” An’gel said as she strode to the door. Dickce followed.

They stepped out into the late afternoon sunlight and squinted into it, looking for the source of the noise.

“There.” Dickce pointed toward the driveway down the rise from Willowbank where a small car evidently had struck one of the live oaks head on. “Oh, dear Lord, I hope no one’s hurt.” She pulled the cottage door shut and scurried along with her sister toward the accident.

By the time they got there, Benjy and Peanut were already on the scene. Benjy wrenched open the driver’s side door of the red BMW convertible and assisted Sondra out of it. To Dickce’s relief, the girl didn’t appear injured, but she was trembling.

“Sondra, dear, are you okay?” Dickce held out a hand toward the girl.

“Do I look like I’m okay?” Sondra waved away Dickce’s hand.

Dickce recoiled from the venomous tone. After a moment she realized Sondra appeared more furious than hurt.

“Just look at my car.” Sondra stomped her foot on the ground. “It’s ruined, and I just got it yesterday. Stupid brakes. You’d think they would work on a brand-new car.” She kicked one of the tires. That caused her shoe to pop off her foot. Dickce stared at the six-inch stilettos and wondered if the shoes were at fault.

Sondra bent to retrieve the shoe and then stepped out of its mate. High heels in hand, she glared in turn at the car and at the sisters and Benjy. “I know what you’re thinking.” She brandished the shoes. “I drive in these all the time. It wasn’t my fault.”

Dickce exchanged an uneasy glance with An’gel. If Sondra wasn’t lying about being used to driving in high heels, what had caused her brakes to fail?

CHAPTER 5

An’gel stepped closer to examine the damage while she considered the implications of the failed brakes. Despite Sondra’s claim that she was used to driving in high heels, An’gel still thought driver error could have caused the accident.

Sondra had hit the live oak with the right front side of the car, smashing the headlight and crumpling the fender. An’gel marveled that the girl hadn’t been hurt, but then she saw that the airbag had deployed.

“Get that thing away from me. I don’t want hair all over me.”

An’gel turned to see Sondra flapping her hands at Peanut. The Labradoodle was sniffing around her but shied away from the unfriendly hands.

“Calm down,” Benjy said sharply. “Peanut doesn’t shed. Your stupid dress is safe.” He pulled the dog away from Sondra.

An’gel had learned from Benjy that, depending on genetics, Labradoodles might not shed. Happily for her, Peanut was in that category.

“That’s what you say.” Sondra tossed her head. “I’d better not find a single dog hair on my dress, or you’ll have to pay to have it cleaned.” She paused for a breath and stared hard at Benjy. “Just who the heck are you anyway? You’re trespassing on private property, you know.”

“I’m not trespassing.” Benjy stared right back at Sondra. “I’m a guest, along with Miss An’gel and Miss Dickce.”

Sondra grimaced. “Oh, you’re their ward .”

An’gel marveled at how the girl managed to inject that one word with such venom.

“Yes, he is our ward, and your grandmother invited him.” An’gel spoke tersely. She was relieved that the girl appeared unharmed, but An’gel was annoyed with her behavior. “Tell us how the accident happened.”