Fixing to Die

by Miranda James

  Soon turned out to be nearly twenty minutes later, when the door opened to admit Henry Howard and the young policeman An’gel had met in the hallway.

  “The doctor and the paramedics are still upstairs with the police,” Henry Howard said.

  “Come sit down,” Mary Turner said. “Right here.” She indicated the chair next to her. “You look terrible.”

  Henry Howard smiled tiredly as he sat next to his wife. “It’s a terrible thing. This is the first time we’ve had a guest die in the house.”

  An’gel noticed that the policeman did not leave the room. He had stationed himself near the door but well within hearing distance of those in the room. She knew that anything they said might be reported to the officer in charge of the investigation. Dickce and Benjy were aware of that as well, based on their previous experiences with sudden death. She didn’t know whether the Catlins would realize it, however.

  “Has the doctor seen him yet?” Mary Turner asked. Her anxiety was obvious, although Henry Howard appeared too tired and stressed himself to realize it, An’gel saw.

  “Yes, the doctor looked at him, the paramedics looked at him, and the police looked at him.” Henry Howard slumped back in his chair and closed his eyes. “Thank the Lord I only had to look at him the one time. I don’t like looking at dead people, I can tell you that, especially in that room.”

  Mary Turner laid a hand on his arm. “I know, none of us do. Did anyone say anything about how he died?”

  “Not that I heard,” Henry Howard said. “They kept me out in the hall after I showed them to the room.”

  “Did you happen to notice anyone else upstairs?” An’gel asked. “Other than police and medical personnel?”

  Henry Howard sat up. “What do you mean?”

  An’gel caught sight of the policeman. She knew he was paying close attention. He had moved a couple of steps away from the door.

  “Mrs. Pace left the room abruptly right after you did earlier,” An’gel said. “I wondered if she had gone upstairs to her room, that’s all.”

  “I didn’t see her,” Henry Howard said.

  Mary Turner looked at An’gel. “Do you think she might be in the kitchen with Marcelline and the others?”

  “It’s possible, I suppose.” An’gel wondered why she hadn’t thought of that. Instead she had immediately come up with much less innocent ideas. That’s what getting involved in murder will do for your thought processes.

  She noticed Dickce and Benjy across the table, their heads together, whispering. Then Benjy looked at her. “Miss An’gel, Peanut and Endora have been alone in the room for over an hour now. I really need to go check on them. They both get bored, and they might tear something up.”

  “You can bring them in here with us,” Henry Howard said. “We don’t mind.”

  “No, of course not,” Mary Turner said. “I hate to think of them locked up by themselves all this time.”

  An’gel rose and approached the policeman. “Officer, we have a dog and a cat with us. They’re in the annex in Benjy’s room, and as I’m sure you heard, they’ve been there over an hour. Would it be all right if Benjy goes and gets them and brings them here?”

  Benjy had joined her. “Peanut will probably need to do his business,” he said to An’gel. “Officer, Peanut is the dog, and he’ll need walking for a few minutes.”

  “I’ll ask, if you’ll wait a moment.” The officer turned and opened the door. He stepped into the hall, leaving the door open, and called up the stairs for someone named Thornton.

  An’gel couldn’t see who responded but she did hear a voice from the direction of the stairs who asked the officer what he wanted. The policeman explained, and the other voice called out, “I’ll get someone.”

  The officer returned to the dining room. “Someone will be here in a moment to go with you,” he told Benjy.

  Benjy smiled. “Thank you, sir.” He and An’gel moved back to the table to wait.

  They had to wait several minutes but finally another policeman came into the room. Another youngster, An’gel noted, but perhaps older than the first. Not nearly as tall, though. He beckoned to Benjy. “I’ll go with you,” he said, and Benjy followed him out.

  An’gel resumed her seat. Thank goodness for Benjy. I’d forgotten all about poor Peanut and Endora. The pets hadn’t been part of the family long, and she was still getting used to them and their needs. She and Dickce hadn’t had animals around the house in many years, and she had forgotten what it was like.

  A few minutes after Benjy departed the room with the second policeman, the dining room door opened to admit Marcelline, Serenity Foster, Truss Wilbanks, and Primrose Pace. Accompanying them was another police officer, evidently a senior man.

  “Please take a seat, everyone.” He waited by the head of the table until the newcomers were seated.

  An’gel regarded Primrose Pace with a frown. Had the medium been in the kitchen all along?

  “Now, I’m sure y’all are wondering what’s been going on,” the officer said. “First, I’m going to introduce myself. I’m Lieutenant Steinberg. I appreciate y’all’s patience while we’ve been checking out the situation upstairs. Before I can explain that, though, I’d appreciate if y’all would introduce yourselves and tell me your relationship to the deceased. Mr. Catlin we already know. Are you Mrs. Catlin?” He nodded toward Mary Turner.

  “Yes,” she said. “The deceased was a distant cousin of mine.”

  “Thank you,” the officer said. “And you?”

  An’gel introduced herself, and the others in turn did the same.

  Serenity Foster was the last person to answer. “I’m Serenity Foster, and the deceased was my brother. Nathan Gamble.” She turned in her chair to point to Mary Turner. “She’s the one who killed him, Lieutenant Steinberg.”

  CHAPTER 19

  An’gel would have thought Serenity Foster had more sense than to make a statement like that without even knowing how her brother had died. Evidently her animosity toward Mary Turner overruled her caution and good judgment, had she any.

  “I told you to stop saying things like that.” Truss Wilbanks fairly hissed the words at his client.

  “I don’t care,” Serenity said hotly. “Lieutenant, you heard me.”

  “Miz Foster, I can understand you’re real upset right now with your brother dying so suddenly and him being a young man,” Steinberg said. “But that’s a strong accusation you’re making. Do you have any reason to believe your brother’s death was the result of premeditated murder?”

  Before Serenity could answer the officer, Truss Wilbanks spoke up. “As I explained in my introduction, Lieutenant, I am Mrs. Foster’s attorney, and I have to advise her to be careful in making these statements without any facts whatsoever to back them up. They could result, if she persists, in a lawsuit.” He glared at Serenity, and An’gel was surprised that the young woman didn’t fire back at him. Instead, she seemed to wilt under his glare.

  He turned back to Steinberg. “So to answer your question, no, there is no reason to believe this was premeditated in any way.”

  The lieutenant gazed blandly back at Wilbanks. “I see, Mr. Wilbanks, but I was asking Miz Foster. Do you stand by your earlier statement, ma’am?”

  Serenity shook her head. “No, I was just upset.”

  An’gel hoped that would be the end of it, at least for now. Poor Mary Turner continued to tremble beside her, whether from rage or fear or another emotion altogether, An’gel wasn’t certain. She was afraid her young friend might break down if she had to face another onslaught of her cousin’s spite. They all felt raw and on edge, she had no doubt, and Serenity’s behavior was no help.

  She glanced at Primrose Pace and saw that the medium was gazing intently at Serenity. A half smile played around Mrs. Pace’s lips, and she continued to watch Serenity while An’gel watched her. What w
as the interest? An’gel wondered.

  “Very well, then,” Steinberg said. “I can’t tell you a lot at the moment, and that’s because we don’t know a lot. The doctor can’t sign the death certificate because he’s not familiar with the deceased’s medical history.”

  “He wouldn’t be,” Henry Howard said. “He’s a friend of ours and lives nearby. That’s why I called him.”

  Steinberg nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Catlin. Now, Miz Foster, can you tell us who your brother’s doctor was, if he had one?”

  Serenity shrugged. “He never mentioned one to me. As far as I knew, he was in perfect health. He was too cheap to go to a doctor most of the time, unless he was really, really sick.” She named an urgent care clinic, evidently in Vicksburg, where she had known him to go in the past. “He had the flu really bad last year, and for that he went to the doctor.”

  “Thank you, ma’am, we’ll check with the doctors there,” the policeman said. “We have no reason to treat this death as anything other than natural at the moment, unless somebody has further information they’d like to share.” He looked around the room.

  Primrose Pace suddenly pushed back her chair and rose. “I have information, Lieutenant. I communicated with the spirit of the deceased not long after it left his body, and I will be happy to share that communication with you.”

  An’gel had to admire Steinberg’s self-possession after that startling announcement. His bland expression never wavered, though An’gel thought he blinked a couple of times. Then it dawned on her that she had been right about the medium’s whereabouts. Mrs. Pace had been upstairs, probably in the room with the body, before the authorities arrived. Snooping around, no doubt, but why?

  “I see. Mrs. Pace, isn’t it?” He waited for the medium to affirm that. “Are you in the habit of communicating with the spirits, ma’am?”

  “I am a psychic medium,” she responded with a bit of hauteur. “I have helped police in similar cases before.”

  An’gel wondered what the medium’s angle was in this display. She didn’t really believe Mrs. Pace had communicated with Nathan Gamble after death. She was making the whole thing up. She had to be, An’gel decided. The question was, why? Maybe the woman was simply delusional and needed medical attention herself.

  “What did he tell you? That he was murdered?” Serenity Foster’s harsh tones brought everyone’s attention back to her.

  Wilbanks immediately remonstrated with her, but Serenity ignored him and started repeating her questions to Primrose Pace.

  Steinberg’s voice rang out. “Quiet, everyone, please.” He nodded to the medium. “Go on, ma’am.”

  “As I was trying to tell you, Lieutenant,” Mrs. Pace said with a hostile glance at Serenity, “I have helped the police before. With missing persons mostly, but those cases often entailed suspicious deaths. This death, however, was nothing like that.” She paused, and the silence lingered.

  An’gel wished the medium would get to the point. She really wanted to hear what the woman would say. She almost felt like speaking up but knew that the lieutenant would not appreciate it.

  “Please, go on,” Steinberg said after the pause had stretched out uncomfortably long.

  “Mr. Gamble died peacefully. His spirit was a bit confused, of course, with the sudden transition. You see, they are often like this, especially when they aren’t expecting it.” Mrs. Pace shook her head dolefully. “And so often no one is there to encourage them on their way.”

  “How exactly do you encourage them on their way?” Steinberg asked.

  “I tell them that they have to accept the fact that they have passed on,” Mrs. Pace replied. “Few souls are ready to accept that right away, you must understand. Most don’t want to leave the earthly plane and their loved ones. It’s even harder for them if they have a message they want to give their loved ones.” She shook her head again in the same doleful manner. “It’s truly tragic for some of them, and their loved ones are often desperate for some last word.

  “Then once they have begun to accept that they are no longer part of the mortal world,” Mrs. Pace continued, “I tell them to look toward the light. Some see it more quickly than others. Some embrace it gladly. Others have to be encouraged to do it.”

  “Do any of them ever refuse?” Dickce asked.

  An’gel frowned at her sister but she was as curious as Dickce, she admitted to herself, to hear the medium’s answer.

  “Yes,” Mrs. Pace replied. “They hang on, refusing to believe that they are dead. They can cause terrible mischief sometimes in their anger and denial. Like the spirit in this house. She is one who refuses to move on. Something has bound her here, but I haven’t been able to figure out yet what it is.”

  “There’s a spirit here?” Steinberg asked, his expression still bland. “Where is it now?”

  Mrs. Pace shrugged. “She’s hidden herself for the moment. I doubt she is happy that there are so many strange persons in her house.”

  “Let’s get back to Mr. Gamble for the moment,” Steinberg said. “You assisted his spirit. Did his spirit go willingly?”

  “Not at first,” Mrs. Pace said. “He needed coaxing, but once he understood that he had died and could not go back, he seemed eager to embrace the light.”

  “That’s good, I guess.” For the first time Steinberg’s facade slipped, and An’gel thought he was losing patience with the medium. “Now, exactly where were you when all this communicating was taking place, ma’am?”

  “In the room with his corporeal self, naturally,” Mrs. Pace said. “I would have thought that was obvious. The spirit usually remains quite close to its former shell until it is ready to move on, or the body is removed from where the person died.”

  An’gel could tell that the lieutenant wasn’t happy to find out that Mrs. Pace had been in the room. Even if Nathan Gamble’s death had been completely natural, An’gel thought, Mrs. Pace had no business being in there. She wasn’t a member of the family, and she had no official standing as a medical or legal person.

  “Mrs. Pace, I’d like you to come with me for some further questions,” Steinberg said. “Mr. Catlin, is there another room we can use for a little while?”

  Henry Howard nodded. “Sure, the front parlor across the hall, or the library. It’s the room next to the parlor. Either one.”

  “Thank you,” Steinberg said. “We’ll use the parlor. Mrs. Pace, if you please.”

  The medium inclined her head and moved in a stately fashion toward the door. Steinberg saw her out, then turned to address everyone. “For now, I have no further questions for you, but those of you who are guests, I’d like you to give your home addresses and contact information to my men here in case I need to talk to you further. Miz Foster, I would like to talk to you, however, so if you don’t mind waiting.” He stated the last as an order, not a request, An’gel thought.

  • • •

  Serenity Foster didn’t offer any objections, though she immediately ducked her head toward her lawyer and began speaking in a lowered tone to him.

  Steinberg left the dining room door open, and the young officer who had been watching them earlier stepped forward, pad and pen to the ready. “I need to get the information the lieutenant wants. Mr. and Mrs. Catlin, we have yours, of course. Miss Ducote, ma’am, if you wouldn’t mind.”

  While An’gel provided the necessary information for herself, Dickce, and Benjy, the latter returned with the older police officer, Peanut, and Endora.

  Peanut woofed joyfully at the sight of An’gel and strained against his leash to get to her. Benjy held him back with a quiet command, however, until An’gel finished dictating to the young policeman.

  He next took Marcelline’s information, and as soon as he finished, the housekeeper turned to Mary Turner. “Now, Miss Mary, I’m taking you upstairs, and you’re going to lie down for a while. And don’t you try to argue with
me, missy.”

  Mary Turner gave the housekeeper a wan smile. “I’m not going to, Marcelline. I need to be where it’s quiet for a while.” She turned to her husband. “How about you? Would you like to come with me?”

  Henry Howard frowned. “No, you go ahead. I’d better stay here in case the police want anything else. I’ll be up to check on you later.” He gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

  “All right,” Mary Turner said. She rose from her chair and followed Marcelline docilely from the room, allowing the housekeeper to put an arm around her as if she were unable to hold herself upright.

  Henry Howard looked like he needed rest far more than Mary Turner did, An’gel thought. The circles around his eyes seemed darker, and he moved stiffly. She realized that he had never had much chance to have breakfast.

  “You need to eat something,” she told him. “You come with me. I’m going to take you to the kitchen, and we’ll find something.” She turned to Peanut, who had put a paw on her leg. She fondled his head for a moment. “Yes, I’m glad to see you, too, you silly boy. But I need to take care of Henry Howard right now.”

  Peanut woofed and withdrew his paw. An’gel always marveled at how the dog seemed to understand exactly what she told him. Endora, of course, always ignored her.

  An’gel returned her attention to her host and saw him smiling at her. “I miss having a dog,” he said.

  “Why don’t you and Mary Turner adopt one?” An’gel said. “Now, come along with me. Let’s get you fed.”

  “We’ll stay here for now, Sister,” Dickce told her. An’gel knew Dickce would do her best to find out what was going on between Serenity and Wilbanks. They were still conferring and seemed not to notice what the others in the room were doing.

  An’gel repeated her question to Henry Howard on the way down the hall, then added, “There are plenty of animals in shelters who need adopting, after all.”