Digging Up the Dirt

by Miranda James

  “For years of faithful service?” Kanesha said, one eyebrow raised.

  “One of the pieces—in fact, the very sofa that An’gel and I sat on during the visit—came from Hamish’s mother’s bedroom,” Dickce replied. “Both Hamish and Hadley were devoted to their mother, and I can’t see Hamish just handing over something of hers, even as a reward for faithful service.”

  “Hamish was never known for his generosity,” An’gel said. “We approached him time after time to contribute to different charitable causes, and the most he ever gave at one time was fifty dollars.” She shook her head. “Getting that much out of him was a major triumph, I can tell you.”

  “So if I understand where you’re going with this, you think he gave Mrs. Turnipseed all these valuable antiques and furnishings in exchange for her silence?” Kanesha asked.

  Dickce and An’gel shared a glance, then they said in unison, “We do.”

  “I agree that it could be a possibility,” Kanesha said. “Especially with what you’ve told me about Mr. Partridge’s stinginess and devotion to his late mother. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “I also asked Mrs. Turnipseed if she knew anything about the whereabouts of Callie Partridge’s housemaid, Coriander Simpson,” An’gel said. “Her answer to that was extremely nasty and rude.”

  A faint smile crossed Kanesha’s lips. “I can certainly imagine. I’ve had experience with Mrs. Turnipseed before.”

  “We both think the housemaid might know something useful,” Dickce said. “Do you know anything about her?”

  “Only that she’s no longer in the area, as far as we can determine,” Kanesha said. “We haven’t found any family of hers, either, and that’s a bit odd.”

  “We’ll check with Clementine,” An’gel said. “If anyone knows anything about her, Clementine will. I meant to ask her this morning but I forgot.”

  “If you do get any leads, I know you’ll pass them on to me,” Kanesha said. “In the meantime, I have a little news for you.”

  “What?” Dickce said eagerly.

  “The police department investigated the ghost that was allegedly roaming around in Miss Hetherington’s house,” Kanesha said. “According to them, there was evidence of an intruder. The lock on the back door was forced, and several rooms were disturbed. They are checking with her lawyer for an inventory of property to determine whether the intruder took anything of value.”

  “Sarinda had some jewelry handed down through her family,” An’gel said. “We believe she kept that in a safe deposit box at the bank, though.”

  “Do you think it was just someone who heard about her death who broke in to steal?” Dickce asked. “Or was there some other purpose behind it?”

  “A little too early to tell, frankly,” Kanesha said. “Until the police and the lawyer check everything and determine whether any valuables are missing, we don’t really know.”

  “If it would help,” An’gel said, “Dickce and I would be happy to go through the house with the lawyer. We knew Sarinda for many years and are familiar with much of the contents of her home.”

  “I will let the police department know,” Kanesha said.

  “Thank you,” Dickce said. “Have you found out anything more about the remains from Ashton Hall?”

  “Not yet,” Kanesha said. “We’re consulting with a faculty member from the college who is a physical anthropologist. He has extensive experience with Native American remains and funerary practices. He should be able to tell us pretty soon whether we’re dealing with an old burial or a comparatively recent one.”

  “That’s excellent,” Dickce said. “We both hope it turns out to be a really old burial. Neither one of us wants it to be poor Callie.”

  “Either way, there will still be a mystery about what happened to her,” An’gel said. “Someone knows the truth, and I frankly think it’s Mrs. Turnipseed.”

  “Would you like for us to try talking to her again?” Dickce asked.

  “At the moment, no,” Kanesha said. “I will send one of my deputies over to talk to her. He’s a good-ole-boy type, and he may have better luck with her. If he doesn’t get anywhere, I might ask you to try one more time.”

  “We’ll be glad to,” An’gel said.

  “Thank you, ladies.” Kanesha rose. “I appreciate you coming by. Now, I’m afraid I have to show you out. I’ve got another case to work on.”

  The sisters rose. “Of course,” An’gel said. “We understand how busy you are.”

  Back in the car, Dickce said, “I think we should put Benjy to work on finding Coriander Simpson.”

  “Why so?” An’gel said as she put the car in gear and backed out of the parking space.

  “He’s smart about computers, for one thing,” Dickce said. “I bet he will be able to turn up something as fast as the sheriff’s department can. Probably faster.”

  “Maybe so,” An’gel said. “I suppose it can’t hurt for him to try.”

  “As soon as we get home, I’m going to talk to him about it,” Dickce said.

  Twenty minutes later, Dickce was seated at the table in Benjy’s apartment, and the two of them were talking about the search for Coriander Simpson.

  “I’ll search for her online,” Benjy said. “It’s an unusual name, and that helps.” He thought for a moment. “Do you know whether she was a live-in maid?”

  Dickce shook her head. “I don’t recall. It’s possible she was. I’ll check with Hadley, because he will certainly know.”

  “Good,” Benjy said. “If she wasn’t live-in, though, I might be able to trace her through old phone directories. Do you know whether the public library has kept any?”

  “I’m not sure,” Dickce said. “I’d be willing to bet, though, that they have. The Athena Historical Society has worked closely with the library for many years to document the town’s history. They’ve collected all kinds of things, and much of it is housed at the library.” She paused for a moment. “And if they don’t have it, you might talk to Charlie Harris about the college archive. It could be that the college has some.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. I’ll go to the public library first thing tomorrow and start there,” Benjy said. “I can check their databases, too. See if I can find anything about her that way. In the meantime, I’ll search tonight at home.”

  “Thank you, dear,” Dickce said. “I have a feeling that if anyone can find Coriander Simpson, it will be you.”

  Peanut, who had been napping on the floor between Dickce and Benjy, suddenly gave a woof, as if he agreed. Dickce and Benjy laughed. Endora, as usual asleep in Dickce’s lap when it was available, yawned and stretched. Dickce rubbed the cat’s head for a moment, and Endora purred.

  “I guess I’d better get back over to the house,” Dickce said. “An’gel is going to ask Clementine if she knows anything about the woman, and I want to hear what she has to say.” She gently picked up the cat and set her on the floor. Endora shot her a reproachful look before stalking off, tail straight up in the air, to the couch. She leapt up, found her favorite spot, and curled up.

  Dickce shared another laugh with Benjy. She patted his shoulder before she rose. “Dinner should be ready in about an hour. I’ll see you at the table.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Benjy stood to see her to the head of the stairs.

  Dickce hurried across the back lawn to the kitchen door. She found her sister inside with their housekeeper. An’gel was talking while Clementine worked at the stove.

  “. . . such a nasty woman,” An’gel was saying. “But I have to say she appears to keep a spotless house.”

  “Mrs. Turnipseed,” Dickce said.

  “Yes,” An’gel replied. “I was just telling Clementine about our visit with her.”

  “Better you than me,” Clementine said.

  “Have you asked yet about Coriander Simpson?” Dickce sa
id.

  “I was about to,” An’gel replied. She addressed the housekeeper. “Did you know Mrs. Partridge’s housemaid at all, Clementine?”

  The housekeeper frowned as she checked a pot of boiling cabbage. “I can’t say as rightly I did. I don’t think she was from around here.”

  “What makes you think that?” Dickce asked.

  “I’m trying to remember,” Clementine said. “I didn’t see her much, except every once in a while at church. She kinda kept to herself.” She paused. “I believe somebody at church told me they thought she didn’t have any people around here.”

  “I wonder how she came to be in Athena, then,” An’gel said.

  “Where was it Callie was from?” Dickce said. “I know Hamish met her in Memphis. Was that where she was from?”

  “I believe so,” An’gel said. “Do you think she might have known Coriander Simpson in Memphis?”

  Dickce shrugged. “It’s possible. Maybe she had worked for Callie’s family, and Callie hired her after she married Hamish.”

  “I can’t remember,” An’gel said. “That’s entirely possible.”

  “I think that may be right,” Clementine said slowly. “I seem to remember something about Memphis and that Simpson girl.” She shook her head. “Can’t get it just now, but I’ll keep thinking on it.”

  “Thank you,” An’gel said. “I think we’d better get out of your way now and let you finish cooking dinner. Dickce and I will set the table.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Clementine said. “I hadn’t gotten around to that yet.”

  “I told Benjy dinner would be ready in about an hour,” Dickce said. “Was that all right?”

  “That’s fine,” the housekeeper replied.

  Dickce followed An’gel to the dining room, and they had the table set in a few minutes.

  “Now that we’re done with this,” Dickce said, “why don’t we call Hadley and ask him what he knows about Coriander Simpson?”

  “I did that while you were talking with Benjy,” An’gel said. “He was out, and the housekeeper didn’t know when he’d be back. She said she’d ask him to call us back.”

  “That’s frustrating.” Dickce led the way out of the dining room and into the front parlor. “Let’s have a drink before dinner.”

  “Yes,” An’gel said. “Your usual?” She walked over to the liquor cabinet.

  Dickce nodded. “I wonder if he’s out with Arliss again.”

  “Possibly,” An’gel said as she poured the Laphroaig. “He could also be out doing business related to Ashton Hall.”

  “Of course,” Dickce said. “But do you think he’s seriously interested in Arliss?”

  An’gel shrugged and handed Dickce her whisky. “If he hasn’t changed, then, no, I’d say he isn’t. But we’ll have to see. Surely after forty years he’s matured and grown out of that idle playboy phase.”

  “I would certainly hope so.” Dickce sipped at her whisky.

  An’gel drained her glass and set it on the tray on the liquor cabinet. “I think I’ll go up and read for a bit before dinner. I need to think about something else for a little while.”

  “Good idea.” Dickce knocked back the contents of her glass. “I want to look through the books I bought today and decide which one to read first.” She followed her sister out of the room and up the stairs.

  Several hours later, after both had retired for the night, they were awakened by the ringing of the house phone. Dickce glanced with eyes barely open at the luminous dial of her bedside clock. Who was calling them at seven minutes past midnight?

  She picked up the handset from the nightstand and hit the answer button. “Hello,” she said, her throat dry. She identified herself. “Who is this?”

  “It’s Barbie,” the caller replied.

  “Who?” An’gel said from the extension in her bedroom.

  “Barbie Gross,” Dickce said. “What is it, Barbie. What’s wrong?”

  Dickce heard someone draw a long breath. Then Barbie said, “I just heard the news. Arliss is in intensive care at the hospital. They won’t know if she’s going to make it until morning.”

  CHAPTER 19

  “Good heavens,” An’gel said, stunned and still half-asleep. “What happened?”

  “Car wreck,” Barbie said. “Her car went into a ditch on the highway between where you live and town, evidently. Somebody came along and found her and called 911, thank the Lord.”

  “Gracious,” Dickce said. “I wonder what caused her to go off the road?”

  Barbie said, “Well, she has been known to drink more than she should and then get behind the wheel. I suspect that’s what happened.”

  “Yes, I suppose so,” An’gel said. “Where was she going? Has anybody been able to talk to her?”

  “I don’t think so,” Barbie said. “She’s in a coma. I thought y’all should know. She’s going to need all the prayers she can get.”

  “Poor Arliss,” Dickce said. “We certainly will pray for her.”

  “Thank you for letting us know, Barbie,” An’gel said. “We’ll get over to the hospital first thing in the morning to check on her and see if there’s anything we can do.”

  “I’ll see you there,” Barbie replied. “Bye.”

  An’gel and Dickce hung up their phones, and An’gel walked out of her room into the hall. Dickce met her there.

  “Sister, what on earth is going on?” Dickce said after a yawn. “First Sarinda, and now Arliss. Could they both be accidents?”

  “Mighty coincidental if they are,” An’gel said. “Come on, I don’t know about you, but I could use a hot drink. Let’s make hot chocolate.”

  Dickce nodded and followed An’gel downstairs to the kitchen. An’gel took charge of making the hot chocolate, and Dickce retrieved mugs from the cabinet. Neither spoke again until they had filled their mugs and were sitting at the kitchen table.

  After a couple of sips, An’gel spoke. “Barbie said Arliss was found in a ditch along the highway between here and town. I think she was probably on her way home from Ashton Hall.”

  “Or going to Ashton Hall,” Dickce said. “If she had a snootful, it’s the kind of thing she would do. She’s brazen enough when she’s sober, but she gets reckless when she’s had too much to drink.”

  “I suppose,” An’gel said. “I think it’s more likely she was on her way home.” She had more hot chocolate. “There’s one way to find out.”

  “Call Hadley, you mean?” Dickce asked.

  An’gel nodded. “I imagine Barbie has already called him, so he’s probably awake. Shall we?” She gestured toward the kitchen phone.

  “Why not?” Dickce asked. “You do it.”

  “All right, I will.” An’gel stared at her mug for a moment before she set it aside and went over to the phone. “Do you remember the number?”

  “I think so.” Dickce recited it, and An’gel punched it in.

  After three rings, a sleepy voice answered.

  An’gel put her hand over the mouthpiece. “Not Hadley. A woman. Maybe the housekeeper?” She took her hand away and said, “I’m so sorry to wake you. Is this Ashton Hall?”

  “Yes, it is. Who are you, and why are you calling in the middle of the night?” the woman asked, obviously annoyed.

  “This is An’gel Ducote. I’m trying to reach Hadley. A mutual friend of ours was badly injured in an accident on the highway near there. I’m trying to get in touch with him to let him know.”

  “I see.” An’gel heard the sounds of bedcovers rustling. “Let me see if I can find him for you. Does he have your number?”

  “Yes, he should,” An’gel said.

  “Okay, then, I’ll go find him and tell him to call you.”

  An’gel heard a dial tone. She came back to the table with the handset. “She’s going to look for him and hav
e him call us.”

  “I feel bad we woke her up.” Dickce frowned. “Why didn’t Hadley answer, I wonder?”

  Nearly ten minutes passed before the phone rang. By then they had both finished their chocolate and Dickce was washing out the mugs and saucepan.

  An’gel answered the call. She barely had time to say hello before Hadley launched into speech.

  “An’gel, thanks for calling, but I’m about to head to the hospital,” he said.

  “Obviously you already know about Arliss,” An’gel said. “I guess Barbie Gross called you.”

  “No,” Hadley said. “The hospital called my cell phone. Evidently Arliss had me listed as an emergency contact. Look, I really need to get to the hospital.”

  “Be careful,” An’gel said. “Call and let us know if there’s anything we can do.”

  “Sure.” Hadley ended the call.

  An’gel replaced the handset. “That was peculiar.”

  “What are you talking about?” Dickce asked. “What did Hadley say?”

  An’gel shared Hadley’s part of the conversation with her sister. When An’gel finished, Dickce shook her head.

  “Why would Arliss have him listed as her emergency contact? She has a cousin in town, and a sister in Jackson. That’s strange. He hasn’t been back in town that long.”

  “They must have struck up a relationship almost immediately,” An’gel said. “Or else Arliss was jumping the gun. I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.”

  “Maybe,” Dickce said. “Did he sound really upset?”

  An’gel nodded. “Maybe he’s closer to her than we realized.”

  “You didn’t get to ask him whether Arliss had been with him at Ashton Hall tonight,” Dickce said. “I suppose we’ll find that out tomorrow. In the meantime, I’m going back to bed.”

  “Me, too.” An’gel followed her sister out of the kitchen and back up to the second floor.

  “Good night again,” Dickce said.

  “Good night.” An’gel closed her bedroom door behind her. She removed her robe and laid it across the foot of the bed. Then she climbed in and got comfortable before she reached over to turn out the light.