Bless Her Dead Little Heart

CHAPTER 21

Dickce hit the brakes a little too hard, and the car started to skid on the still-damp surface of the driveway. She kept control of the car, however, and brought it out of the skid. She eased down the brakes and stopped the vehicle.

“Sorry,” Benjy said, his face pale. “I didn’t mean to startle you like that.”

Dickce waited a moment for her heartbeat to settle down before she responded. “I’m okay. How about you?”

“Okay, too.” Benjy loosened his grip on the door handle and the seat belt strap.

“What’s this about the water pistol?” Dickce asked.

Benjy glanced sideways at her, then stared out the windshield. “I’m pretty sure I know where it came from. I pretended not to recognize it when the deputy showed it to me. I was too scared.”

Dickce reached over and patted his arm. “I can understand that. You have to remember, though, the deputy knows you couldn’t have been the one to use it to squirt water on the stairs. You had no opportunity to get into the house to do it. Now, where did it come from?”

“It’s mine. Last time I saw it was a couple years ago, when I used it with a Halloween costume.” Benjy leaned against the headrest and closed his eyes. “It was a toy I got when I was about ten. It was in a box of stuff when my mother and I moved into the house where the Wart lives with his mother. After that Halloween I stuck it back in the box in my closet and forgot about it.”

“But you’re sure it’s the same one?” Dickce asked.

“Pretty sure.” Benjy turned to look at her, and she could read the fear in his eyes. “I swear I didn’t bring it, and I didn’t use it to squirt water on the stairs.”

“I know you didn’t,” Dickce said, making her tone as reassuring as she could. “Like I said, you didn’t have the opportunity. I’ve already told Deputy Berry that.”

“I hope she really believes you,” Benjy said. He looked less fearful now, Dickce thought.

Dickce put the car into gear again and drove on down the driveway. “I do think you need to tell Deputy Berry where the pistol came from, though. She needs to know that, and it will look better if you tell her. Someone else might remember that you had one anyway.”

“The Wart probably does,” Benjy said. “I used it a few times to play jokes on him. He complained about it to everyone, so they know about it.” He sighed. “I’ll talk to her next time she’s here.”

“Good,” Dickce said as she halted the car behind the house. “Let’s get these bags into the house. I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for some lunch.”

“Me, too,” Benjy said as he unbuckled his seat belt. He met her at the back of the car and picked up several of the plastic bags. “Miss Dickce, are you going to tell your sister about the animals?”

“Yes,” Dickce said. She headed for the back door. “But I’m not telling her just yet that they’re going to be coming here. I’ll tell her we stopped to rescue them and then took them to the vet. She’s got enough to think about for now.”

“All right, I won’t say anything,” Benjy promised.

The back door opened, and Antoinette came out, accompanied by Diesel. She stepped forward, hands outstretched. “Here, Miss Dickce, let me have those. You go on in the house, and Benjy and I will unload the car.”

Dickce happily gave her bags to the young woman. She went back to the car for her handbag, and on her way toward the house again she saw Diesel sniffing Benjy’s pant legs as he walked. She wondered what the cat would make of the strange animal scents on Benjy’s clothing.

She continued to think about Diesel and the two rescued pets as she went into the downstairs bathroom to wash her hands. She hadn’t really considered the effect on Diesel in bringing two strange animals into the house. She knew Diesel was used to a dog, namely Stewart Delacorte’s poodle, Dante. But she didn’t know if he had been around other cats that much. She decided the best thing would be for the rescues to stay in the garage apartment with Benjy, and they would have to keep Diesel in the house until they had time to introduce the animals to one another.

Besides, having them in the garage apartment would keep them out of An’gel’s way, too. Dickce wasn’t sure how her sister would react to the news that she had suddenly acquired a dog and a cat. An’gel was softhearted, despite her often crusty demeanor, but that didn’t mean she would welcome two strays into the house.

“If you have to,” Dickce told her reflection in the mirror as she dried her hands, “you can move into the garage apartment with them. They’re going to stay no matter what An’gel thinks.” She turned out the light, opened the door, and almost stepped on her sister’s foot.

“Who were you talking to in there?” An’gel asked. “Yourself?”

“I am rather fond of intelligent conversation,” Dickce said.

An’gel did not look amused. “What took you so long? We’re having a cold lunch instead of the hot one Clementine had planned because you were so late getting back with the groceries.”

“Sorry about that,” Dickce said, “but Benjy and I encountered an emergency on the way.”

“What kind of emergency? Was either of you hurt?” An’gel looked her over. “You look fine to me.”

“I’m fine, and so is Benjy,” Dickce said. “Right after we turned on to the highway, Benjy spotted a stray dog by the side of the road. We stopped to pick it up, and it turned out there was a cat with the dog.”

An’gel glared at her. “You didn’t bring them back here, did you? The last thing I need right now is stray animals in the house.”

“No, I promise you I didn’t bring them back with me.” Dickce smiled. “We took them straight to the veterinarian’s office and left them there.” She hadn’t lied to her sister. She hoped An’gel would let the subject drop for the moment. “Now, what can I do to help get lunch ready? I’m starved.” She headed back to the kitchen.

“Ask Clementine,” An’gel called after her. “I’m going to tell our guests that everything will be ready soon.”

The front parlor was empty when An’gel checked it. She crossed the hall to the library, and there she found Junior and Wade watching golf on television. She had never understood men’s fascination with the sport. She found it tedious in the extreme and much preferred tennis.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” she said to gain their attention.

Wade lowered the volume with the remote, and he and Junior turned in the chairs to face her. “Yes, ma’am?” Junior said.

“Lunch will be served in the dining room in about fifteen minutes,” she said. “Sandwiches and potato salad, so go along and help yourselves when you’re ready.”

Wade grunted and turned back to golf. Junior smiled and said, “Thank you.”

An’gel nodded and left them to their golf. She headed for the stairs. Not for the first time she thought about installing an intercom system in the bedrooms as she climbed. That would save wear and tear on the knees. Somehow, though, she never got around to acting on her idea. They didn’t have guests that often, after all.

Upstairs, she tapped lightly on Rosabelle’s door. She waited a moment, then tapped again. This time it opened, and Juanita stepped into the hall, pulling the door closed behind her.

“Grandmother’s still napping,” Juanita said. “I had to give her a mild sedative. She was terribly upset over what happened at breakfast.” She shook her head. “She’s not used to being thwarted or crossed.”

“No, she isn’t.” An’gel sighed. She harbored a bit of guilt over her confrontation with Rosabelle, but at the time she had felt it was the right thing to do. Someone had to call Rosabelle’s bluff, and at least she wouldn’t have to live with her after this mess was settled. Rosabelle could go back to California, and her family could deal with her. Rosabelle might even learn to behave more kindly toward her family after this if any of them made an effort to do the same toward her.

And I’ll go to church wearing a pink tutu.

“Will she be awake anytime soon?” An’gel asked, trying to quell that cynical inner voice. “Lunch will be ready in the dining room in about fifteen minutes. It’s basically self-serve, with cold cuts and potato salad.”

“She ought to be up soon,” Juanita said. “I might just come down and have a bite myself, and then put together a plate for her. You don’t mind if she eats in her room?”

“Of course not,” An’gel said, feeling relieved. With Rosabelle absent from the dining room, there was less chance for more histrionics.

“Thank you. I’ll be down in a few minutes.” Juanita smiled before she went back into the bedroom.

An’gel crossed the hall to the bedroom Maudine and Bernice shared. Bernice opened the door before she finished knocking.

“Good afternoon, Bernice,” An’gel said. “I came to let you and your sister know that lunch will be served in the dining room in about fifteen minutes.” Before she could share the menu with Bernice, Maudine appeared in the door.

“What are we having?” She frowned. “I have an upset stomach. Your cook must have put something in those eggs that didn’t agree with me. I’m not sure I can handle anything other than plain food.”

An’gel reckoned it was the four helpings of scrambled eggs and seven sausages and biscuits that were to blame for Maudine’s gastric problems. An’gel did not offer her opinion, however. Instead she said, “Plain food, for sure. Cold cuts for sandwiches, with some of my housekeeper’s potato salad. Nothing highly spiced to cause you further distress, I can assure you.”

“Cold cuts?” Maudine grimaced. “Well, if that’s the best you can do.” She turned away.

Bernice smiled timidly as she leaned toward An’gel and said in an undertone, “Don’t mind Maudie. She’s really upset over the things Mother said this morning. We’ll be perfectly happy with whatever you have.”

An’gel nodded. She pitied Bernice, having to trail around after her sister to make one apology after another for Maudine’s rudeness. An’gel suspected it might be a full-time occupation.

When she reached the bottom step, she heard the doorbell ring. She went to the door, expecting to see Kanesha or one of her officers on the other side. Instead there stood a tall, handsome, and distinguished-looking man of perhaps sixty. He was nattily dressed in white linen trousers, a pale blue silk shirt, and a navy blazer. His stylishly cut hair, black with gray streaks, was thick and luxuriant. An’gel caught a hint of a mellow cologne as the stranger proffered a hand.

Slightly bemused, she returned the gesture. He clasped her hand and bowed over it, then straightened.

“Good afternoon, signorina. You must be one of the charming Ducote sisters that my beloved Rosabella has spoken of to me so very often.”