Bless Her Dead Little Heart

CHAPTER 11

Dickce wished she could have gone with An’gel and Kanesha. She wanted to be doing something instead of just sitting here in the window seat. Her curiosity about what An’gel and Kanesha were discussing was making her restless, she realized, along with the fact that she was stuck in a roomful of people she had met for the first time within the past few hours.

Her gaze fell on the young man beside her, and her fidgeting ceased. Benjy had lost his mother, violently, less than an hour ago. Dickce was glad Diesel was here to comfort the boy, because none of Rosabelle’s family had paid any attention to him.

Except Juanita, Dickce reminded herself. Rosabelle’s granddaughter appeared to have a kind heart, but now Juanita’s attention was focused on her mother and her aunt. Dickce glanced over at the sisters, and to her mind, they both still looked a bit peaky. Wade Thurmond remained behind the desk, staring into space. Junior Pittman squirmed in his chair while he watched his mother.

Dickce wanted to reach out to Benjy but realized that, under the watchful eye of the young deputy, it probably wasn’t a good idea right now. Besides, Benjy might prefer Diesel to a strange elderly woman like herself.

Elderly. Dickce suppressed a shudder. She hated thinking of herself that way. Most days she felt fifty, maybe fifty-five tops. The about-to-be eighty-year-old woman who stared back at her in the mirror in the mornings had to be someone else.

Dickce continued to sit in the window seat with Benjy and Diesel and watched as, one after another, Rosabelle’s daughters, son, and grandchildren were called out of the room to talk to Kanesha. Finally, only she and Benjy, along with the cat, remained.

All this time—and Dickce estimated that at least an hour had passed since An’gel left with Kanesha—Benjy had given little indication he was aware of his surroundings, other than to stroke the cat’s head. Dickce was amazed by Diesel’s patience. He lay with his head, chest, and front legs in Benjy’s lap the whole time. He purred on and off, and seemed content to remain with the boy.

When the deputy came to take Benjy across the hall to the parlor, the young man rose after gently sliding Diesel from his lap. “You stay here, kitty.” He gave the cat’s head one last stroke and followed the deputy from the room.

Diesel stood and stretched on the window seat. He turned to look at Dickce, his head nearly on level with hers. She touched a finger to his nose. He warbled, and she told him, “It won’t be much longer, and we’ll be out of here. Better settle down with me until it’s my turn to talk to Kanesha.”

The cat warbled again and arranged himself so that his head lay against her thigh and the rest of him spread out to cover the remainder of the window seat. He closed his eyes, and Dickce thought he went to sleep right away. She leaned back and stared out the window, but her gaze focused inward.

For the past hour Dickce had purposely let her mind flit around, like a bee in a field of clover, because she really didn’t want to think about the death of Marla Stephens. Alone in the room now, except for the deputy who had resumed his position by the door, she found she could no longer keep the tragic event out of her mind.

The premeditation disturbed her. The fact that someone had poured water on the stairs with the intention of causing an accident—fatal as it turned out—sickened her. Suddenly she wished they were all out of the house and had never come in the first place. An’gel should have sent Rosabelle packing. She should never have let her in the door, Dickce thought. But no, Sister had to play the great and generous lady to an old friend in need. Bet Sister’s regretting it now. She allowed herself a small, spiteful grin before her thoughts shifted inevitably back to the crime.

Crime. The word resonated in her head for a moment. Yes, it was a crime. Murder, in fact. There was no way that water got on the stairs by accident.

Dickce shivered. Which member of Rosabelle’s family hated her enough to want to kill her? None of them, except Juanita and perhaps Junior, had any manners to speak of, but being rude didn’t identify a person as a murderer.

Junior and Benjy were out of the running, she decided. Neither of them had an opportunity to put water on the stairs. Junior had meant to help his mother and aunt with their bags, but there had been no time. He and Benjy had gone straight to the parlor with An’gel and remained there until both Dickce and An’gel witnessed the final moments of Marla Stephens’s fall.

Dickce felt pleased by what she determined was proof of innocence in Benjy’s case. She couldn’t explain why, but she felt drawn to the boy despite his appearance. Why would anyone want rings in his eyebrows? Rebellion, she supposed, happy that part of her life was over long ago. She glanced down at the cat beside her. Diesel obviously sensed goodness in Benjy as well; otherwise, he wouldn’t have taken so quickly to him. The cat seemed to be an excellent judge of character, and Dickce decided she would trust the cat’s instincts and her own.

The deputy interrupted her reverie with a cough. “Miss Ducote, Chief Deputy Berry would like you to join her in the other room now.”

Dickce smiled at the earnest expression. “I’m ready, Deputy,” she said as she stood. Diesel stretched again before he jumped to the floor to follow her.

The deputy escorted her and the cat across the hall to the parlor and opened the door for them. Dickce thought Diesel might go in search of Benjy or head to the kitchen, but he came into the parlor with her.

Dickce wasn’t surprised to see An’gel ensconced on the sofa. She wondered whether her sister had been there the entire time Kanesha was interviewing Rosabelle’s family. Trust An’gel to be in the middle of it all, she thought with a tinge of resentment.

Kanesha stood. “Miss Dickce, I’m sorry I had to leave you for last. I know it must have been pretty tedious having to wait for so long.” She glanced down at Diesel. “I’m assuming you had company, though.”

Dickce smiled. “Yes, Diesel was there the whole time.” She took a seat beside her sister. The cat climbed up into the space between them and arranged himself across both their laps. “Have you been here all along?”

An’gel shook her head. “No, of course not. Kanesha called me back in just now so the three of us could talk.”

“First,” Kanesha said, “I’d like Miss Dickce to take me through what happened this afternoon from her perspective.” She flipped to a new page in her notebook.

Dickce took a moment to marshal her thoughts. “It all started when An’gel made the mistake of letting Rosabelle in the house.” She cut a sideways glance at her sister. She could see that An’gel was not amused. Dickce was tempted to stick out her tongue, but she knew this was a serious matter. She focused on complying with the chief deputy’s request.

“Thank you,” Kanesha said when Dickce finished. “Now, I’d like to clarify a point or two. To your knowledge, did either Mr. Pittman or Mr. Stephens have an opportunity to go upstairs today?”

“I was thinking about that while I was waiting,” Dickce said. “I’m sure that neither of them did. I took Junior Pittman out to the garage apartment while An’gel took his aunt, his mother, and his cousin upstairs. He was with me the entire time until we came back to the house. That’s when he accompanied An’gel to the parlor.”

“And Mr. Stephens?” Kanesha prompted.

“Mr. Pittman and I found him in the garage apartment. I don’t see any way he could have gotten into the house without our knowing it. He came with Junior and me into the kitchen, and then he went with An’gel and Junior to the parlor.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Kanesha said. She closed the notebook and put it aside on the table near her chair. “At this point I’m reasonably certain we can rule out Mr. Pittman and Mr. Stephens as being responsible for what happened. And the two of you, of course.” Kanesha smiled briefly.

Dickce was pleased to hear that Kanesha didn’t regard Benjy as a suspect. Or Junior either, she thought. He seemed like a nice young man.

Kanesha continued, “Earlier I asked Miss An’gel how she felt about allowing your guests to remain here. We discussed the situation, and I told her I would arrange for them to be accommodated at one of the hotels in the area.”

“I said I thought it best to keep them all here,” An’gel said.

“Why on earth?” Dickce asked. She wasn’t really surprised, but she wanted to hear her sister’s reasoning.

“It will be easier for us to keep an eye on Rosabelle,” An’gel said, her tone firm. “I am not happy harboring a murderer in this house, but I don’t think he or she will try again as long as they’re here. I would fear for Rosabelle’s safety if they moved into a hotel.”

And out of your control, Dickce thought somewhat snidely. Except that An’gel hadn’t been able to stop the killer the first time.

“Besides,” An’gel said, her gaze narrowing as she looked at Dickce, “I’ve arranged with Kanesha to hire off-duty deputies to remain in the house with us for a few days until the case is solved.”

“What a good idea,” Dickce replied. “Whoever arranged that nasty fall for Rosabelle will probably think twice about trying something funny with an officer of the law in the house.”

“I should certainly hope so.” An’gel gave an unladylike snort. She turned to Kanesha. “Is there anything else you need from us right now?”

“No, ma’am,” Kanesha said. “I need to check on the status of the evidence search, and as soon as it’s done, I will let your guests go to their rooms.” She glanced at her watch. “I imagine you’ll be ready to have dinner before long. It’s nearly seven o’clock.”

“Goodness, yes,” Dickce said. Now that she thought about food, she realized she was ravenous. Lunch was a long time ago, and she had eaten only a few bites of the snacks she took to the library for Rosabelle’s family members. “I should go see how Clementine’s getting along. I’m sure she’s wondering when we’re going to serve dinner.” She slid Diesel gently off her lap and stood. The cat chirped in protest at being disturbed, but An’gel patted his head to reassure him.

In the hall Dickce remembered the serving cart and food tray in the library. She decided she might as well retrieve them and take them to the kitchen. She found Rosabelle and her family in the room, watched over by the same young deputy. She was slightly surprised but then realized that this room was larger and more comfortable than the office where each person was sent after the interview with Kanesha.

Dickce explained her errand to the deputy, and he nodded. Then Dickce addressed the assembled guests. “I’m about to go check on dinner. I’m sure it won’t be long before we’re able to eat. For whoever might be hungry,” she said.

Rosabelle nodded, and Dickce could see interest in the faces of several others. She smiled at them before she picked up the food tray and placed it on the middle shelf of the serving cart. As she did so, she spotted something odd.

She straightened, her heart beating faster as the implications of what she found sank in. Her hands trembled as she grasped the cart’s handle and began to wheel it out of the room. She headed back across the hall to the parlor. The moment she had the cart and its contents far enough inside, she closed the door behind her.

An’gel and Kanesha glanced up from their conversation, and Dickce could see they were startled by her sudden entrance.

“There’s something here you need to see,” she said.