Dead With The Wind

CHAPTER 26

Other questions followed quickly. Did Jacqueline know the wedding dress was still intact? And who cleaned up the mess Sondra made?

The answer to that last question was Estelle, An’gel reasoned. Sondra wouldn’t have, and Jacqueline had gone with her mother to the hospital.

When Estelle picked up the scattered pieces of fabric, had she realized they did not come from the antique gown?

An’gel wanted to talk to Jacqueline first. Given the loss of her mother and her daughter, Jacqueline might not care in the least about the survival of a piece of clothing. Still, An’gel thought it better to tell her now than have her find it on her own and get a potentially unsettling surprise.

After she talked to Jacqueline, she would confront Estelle. This time she would demand some answers, even if Estelle tried to stonewall her with her usual rudeness.

Once lunch was over, An’gel decided. She left Mireille’s room, making sure the door was securely closed behind her. She walked downstairs. When she heard voices coming from the front parlor, she turned that way instead of toward the dining room.

Inside she found Horace and Jacqueline. Horace had his cell phone to his ear while Jacqueline watched him from her perch on one of the armchairs.

“That’ll be fine,” Horace said. “Soon as you can get somebody here.” He ended the call and snapped his phone into a holder attached to his belt. “They should be here in about an hour, Roy said.”

“That’s good,” Jacqueline said, “though I wish someone had thought to call them earlier.”

“Hello, my dear,” An’gel said. She nodded to Horace. “Are you feeling any better?”

“A little,” Jacqueline said. She still appeared drawn and tired to An’gel, but perhaps the nap had helped.

“Miss An’gel, I’ll have to be heading back to town in a few,” Horace said, “and Jackie’s got things to do. I got a crew coming to do the cleanup upstairs. Would you mind showing them where to go when they get here?”

“I’ll be happy to,” An’gel said. “Anything to help.”

“Thank you, Tante An’gel.” Jacqueline smiled briefly. “I’d rather not be here while they’re up there.” Her voice faltered on the last two words, and for a moment An’gel thought her goddaughter was going to break down. Jacqueline rallied, however, and asked An’gel to have a seat. “Estelle won’t have lunch ready for another ten minutes or so.”

An’gel chose a seat on the sofa near Jacqueline. She wished Horace would depart because she was eager to question her goddaughter about the dress.

“I’ll grab something in town.” Horace moved close to his wife, leaned down, and kissed her cheek. “You take it easy, sweetheart, and I’ll see you later.” He ducked his head in An’gel’s direction. “Miss An’gel.” Then he strode from the room, pulling his cell phone loose from its holster as he walked.

Jacqueline stared after him with what An’gel thought was a curious expression. Affection, An’gel decided, but laced with doubt. Did Jacqueline suspect her husband was responsible for Sondra’s death?

“I’m glad we have a few minutes alone together,” An’gel said, gently claiming her goddaughter’s attention. “I have something to tell you, and I’m afraid it’s a bit startling.”

Jacqueline appeared alarmed. “It’s nothing to do with Tippy, I hope.”

An’gel shook her head. “No, Tippy is fine. Dickce and Benjy are taking turns looking after her. She’ll be safe with them.”

Jacqueline sighed. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am. There’s so much to do, but I can’t take her with me. I haven’t even explained to her about Sondra.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “How do I tell her she’ll never see her mother again?”

“Oh, my dear.” An’gel got up from the sofa and went to her goddaughter. She bent down and wrapped her arms around Jacqueline, who leaned against her. An’gel rocked her goddaughter gently.

Jacqueline sighed. “Thank you. I’ll be okay.” She gently loosed herself from An’gel’s grasp, and An’gel resumed her seat.

“If you’d like one of us with you when you tell her, all you have to do is say so,” An’gel said.

“I’ll think about it,” Jacqueline replied. “Now, what is this startling news you have?”

An’gel pulled the scrap of fabric from her sleeve and leaned forward to hand it to Jacqueline, who looked at it blankly.

“What is this?” she said.

“I thought it was a piece of cloth from the antique wedding dress,” An’gel said. “I found it in the hall under a table. When I examined it more closely, however, I realized the fabric wasn’t old enough, nor is it satin.”

“I don’t understand,” Jacqueline said. “If it didn’t come from the dress, what is it?”

“I don’t know,” An’gel said, “but I aim to find out. Once I realized it wasn’t from the dress, I wondered if the dress was still intact. I suspected, you see, that Sondra might have cut something else up. I confess I went snooping in your mother’s room, and I found the dress, unharmed, in the bottom drawer of the chifforobe.”

To her surprise, Jacqueline laughed. She stopped abruptly, however, and dropped the scrap onto the coffee table.

“Do you know what it came from?” An’gel asked.

Jacqueline nodded. “It must be from the replica Maman had made of the gown a few years ago. The last time I saw it, it was hanging in her closet.” She shook her head. “I suppose when Sondra went looking for the gown, she must have found the replica instead. Probably didn’t realize it was not the original.” Her eyes filled suddenly with tears.

An’gel started to get up, but Jacqueline waved her back. “I’m all right. I’m happy the gown wasn’t harmed, for Maman’s sake. She’ll—” Jacqueline halted abruptly.

“Yes, I know,” An’gel said. “It’s hard to realize she’s gone.”

“I still don’t understand why Sondra would do such a thing.” Jacqueline picked up the scrap of fabric and stared at it. “It wasn’t like her to do something so cruel.”

An’gel was taken aback. From her own assessment of Sondra’s character, the girl’s act of destruction wasn’t all that surprising. She decided not to say this to her goddaughter. Instead she settled for a blander statement. “She was terribly angry over Mireille’s refusal to deal with Estelle. Perhaps she was so enraged she acted out of character.”

Jacqueline shook her head. “She was angry, certainly, but I’ve seen her that angry numerous times, and she never did anything like this.” She brandished the scrap. “I’d almost swear someone put her up to it, but I can’t imagine who would.”

An’gel could imagine it. The person who killed Sondra might have incited the act for reasons of his own. Then Sondra might have repented of it in the wake of her grandmother’s collapse and threatened to confess. There was a twisted mind at work here, whatever the answer.

“If someone talked Sondra into doing it,” An’gel said, “it would seem to me that person wanted to hurt Mireille. Perhaps not to the extent of having her collapse, but to upset her if nothing else.”

Jacqueline must already have come to that conclusion, An’gel thought, because she didn’t appear at all surprised by the idea.

“I think you may be right.” Jacqueline looked troubled as she deposited the fabric once again on the coffee table. She took a deep breath and faced An’gel squarely. “There’s something neither Maman nor I told you and Tante Dickce. We probably should have, but Maman didn’t want to worry you.” She smiled briefly.

An’gel decided to let that statement pass. Mireille should have confided in them, and perhaps all this could have been averted. She didn’t want to upset her goddaughter by telling her that. Instead she said, “What didn’t you tell us?”

“There were a few other little incidents that upset Maman,” Jacqueline said. “At first we thought they were just coincidences, but then they got a bit ugly.”

“Tell me about these incidents,” An’gel said.

Jacqueline leaned back in her chair, her eyes closed. “A set of Dresden figurines that Papa gave her on their tenth wedding anniversary were broken. Maman thought either Estelle or Jackson had done it and were too embarrassed to admit it. She didn’t want a confrontation, so she said nothing about it to either of them. Especially because Jackson is rather shaky sometimes, and Maman didn’t want to upset him.”

An’gel nodded. Typical of Mireille, she thought, to refuse to confront someone.

“A couple of other small, treasured possessions got broken,” Jacqueline said. “Maman still refused to say anything, and she wouldn’t allow me to. I was surprised, frankly, that nobody owned up to it. Jackson, in particular, because he’s always been so honest. Because of that, I decided it had to be Estelle. She can be spiteful sometimes, and she’s angry whenever Maman doesn’t give in to her and do things her way.”

“I think I would have said something to Estelle anyway, no matter what your mother wanted,” An’gel said. “That kind of behavior can’t be allowed to go on unchecked.” Because it may have escalated into something far worse.

“I argued with Maman about it, but she wouldn’t listen. She said she would handle it in her own way. The incidents stopped for a few weeks, and then a couple of days before you arrived, the worst one happened.” Jacqueline shuddered.

“What was it this time?” An’gel asked.

“One of Papa’s gifts to Maman,” Jacqueline said. “Probably the one she valued above all, a beautiful seventeenth-century French prayer book, still in its original binding. Maman found it cut loose from the binding, and the binding destroyed. I swear I thought she might have a heart attack then.”

An’gel felt sick to her stomach. “That was wicked. Mireille should have called the police.”

“I tried to get her to,” Jacqueline said. “Nothing I said could convince her. She kept insisting she would take care of it. I asked her point-blank if she thought Estelle was the culprit, but she just shook her head.” She paused. “I knew it couldn’t be Jackson, because he’s as devout a Catholic as Maman. Estelle isn’t devout by any means.”

“I agree with you about Jackson,” An’gel said. “He would never do something he would consider blasphemous. If it wasn’t Estelle, however, then who do you think it was?”

Jacqueline looked ready to burst into tears again. “I don’t want to think it, but I’m afraid Horace did it. He was trying to talk Maman into lending him money, but she refused. He wasn’t happy about it.”