Digging Up The Dirt

CHAPTER 15

Peanut and Endora were both evidently startled by Reba’s loud voice and abrupt approach to An’gel. Endora dug her claws into Dickce’s lap before she launched herself onto the floor and ran away. Peanut chased after the cat, barking, and Benjy went after the animals.

Grateful for the thick weave of her skirt that protected her legs from the cat’s claws, Dickce thought for a minute that Lottie MacLeod’s eyeballs were going to pop right out of her face when she heard what Reba said about Callie. She knew there was nothing funny about finding remains at Ashton Hall, but she had to suppress a snort of laughter at the sight of Lottie’s face.

Barbie’s expression was almost as comical, she thought. Both women were speechless, and that was something that rarely ever happened.

“As a matter of fact, Reba,” An’gel said, “we were there when the remains were found yesterday morning. Why don’t you and Martin have a seat, and I’ll go see about more coffee, if you’d like some.”

After staring hard for a moment at her hostess, Reba accepted the offer of coffee and seated herself between Barbie and Lottie on the sofa. Martin wandered over to the desk and sat there. From what Dickce could see, he was simply staring out the front window.

An’gel had barely left the room before Reba demanded, “What were you two doing at Ashton Hall yesterday morning?”

Dickce thought Reba sounded resentful, or perhaps she was jealous. Dickce wondered why Reba would be jealous. She said, “We went over because Hadley asked us to. He wanted to talk to us about his plans to restore the gardens. He wants to bring them back to how they were when his mother was alive.”

“Mrs. Partridge did have the greenest thumb around,” Reba said. She glanced at Barbie, then at Lottie. “You two didn’t get to know her, because she died around the time you moved here. My mother was one of her dearest friends, so we naturally spent a fair amount of time at Ashton Hall.”

“Is that right?” Barbie said. “I seem to have heard that somewhere before.” She grimaced at the back of Reba’s head as Reba turned to smile at Lottie. “Many times.”

Dickce noted that Reba didn’t acknowledge the dig, although she would have sworn that Reba’s nostrils flared briefly.

Instead, Reba said in the same airy tone she’d used before, “Yes, Mother and Mrs. Partridge were the best of friends. They were at Sweet Briar together in its early days, you know.”

“Really?” Barbie said. “I didn’t think it opened until after the Civil War.”

Dickce had to work hard not to snigger this time. Reba talked about her mother going to Sweet Briar all the time, and they had all tired of it long ago. Barbie, however, was the only one who tried to break Reba of the habit by being rude about it.

Thus far, rudeness appeared to have had little effect.

Dickce figured she’d better intervene before the claws came out any further. “We were all upset at the sight of bones,” she said. “But you shouldn’t jump to conclusions. We don’t know that the remains are Callie’s. They could be far older.”

“Where were these remains?” Barbie asked.

“Near a really old tree on the side of the house,” Dickce said.

“Do you think they could be Native American?” Lottie shivered. “What if Ashton Hall is built over a Native American burial ground? That’s scary.”

“What on earth are you talking about now?” An’gel asked.

Dicke glanced up at her sister and was not surprised to see her frowning.

“We were discussing the remains,” Dickce said, “and I warned everybody not to jump to conclusions. Lottie simply asked whether they could be Native American.”

“I see.” An’gel resumed her seat. “The coffee will be ready in a few minutes.”

“But what if they really are what’s left of Callie?” Reba asked. “How did they get there? That’s what I want to know.”

“Do you think Callie was murdered?” Barbie asked. “Who on earth would want to murder her? I didn’t know her that long, but she seemed like a sweet person. Not the kind of woman who gets murdered, for heaven’s sake.”

“Hamish was terribly possessive of her,” Reba said. “When Hadley disappeared, she might have decided to go after him. But then Hamish found out and killed her in a fit of jealous rage.”

Dickce didn’t like the note of smug self-satisfaction in Reba’s voice. She looked sharply at the other woman.

“That’s horrible,” Lottie said, obviously distressed.

“I agree,” Dickce said. “You have to presume a lot to come up with those conclusions.”

“What do you mean?” Reba asked.

Dickce ticked them off on her fingers. “First, you have to presume that Hadley was in love with Callie, and second, that Hamish told his brother to leave Ashton Hall because of it. Third, that Callie was so in love with Hadley that she was willing to run away from her husband. Fourth, that Hamish was in such a tremendous rage that he killed his own wife when she said she was leaving him, and, fifth, buried her practically in his own front yard without anybody noticing.” She paused and looked at her fingers. “I think that’s it. Five things you have to presume.”

“Did anyone ever ask Hamish Partridge what happened to his wife?” Barbie asked. “I don’t remember seeing him around much, once word got out that both Hadley and Callie were gone.”

“I talked to him a couple of weeks after everyone realized Hadley was gone, and by that time, we realized no one had seen Callie around during that period,” Reba said. “Poor man. I asked about Callie, and all he would say was that she was gone. No other explanation, and I didn’t feel that I could question him further.” She shrugged. “I took it to mean she’d run away with Hadley, and that was the end of it.”

“Except now we know that maybe it wasn’t,” Barbie said.

Dickce waggled her fingers in Barbie’s direction.

“Yes, that’s presuming a lot,” Barbie said in response. “But surely if Ashton Hall were built on a Native American site, they would have found evidence of it when they were building it.”

“But that was nearly two hundred years ago,” An’gel said. “At the time, if they had discovered anything, they might not have thought too much about it. They didn’t have a lot of respect for Native American culture in the early nineteenth century.”

“That’s true,” Dickce said.

Clementine brought in the fresh pot of coffee then, along with extra cups. She accepted their thanks and withdrew.

An’gel poured coffee for Reba and Martin first. Martin had been so quiet that Dickce had forgotten he was in the room. She noticed now that he had his phone out, and his gaze seemed focused on it, even as he accepted his coffee.

An’gel offered refills to Barbie and Lottie, but they declined. An’gel set down the carafe and leaned back in her chair.

“How long is it going to take before they decide who was buried there?” Barbie asked.

“Several weeks at least, if not two or three months,” Dickce said.

“Can’t they match up dental records?” Lottie asked. “I’ve heard of that, and surely it can’t be that hard.”

“If they have access to the records,” Barbie said, “it probably isn’t all that hard. But that was forty years ago. Who knows what could have happened to any dental records Callie might have had?”

“I hope it does turn out to be a Native American burial from centuries ago,” Reba said. “That would mean poor Callie might still be alive somewhere.”

“There ought to be one way to tell,” Lottie said. “Grave goods.”

Dickce stared blankly at Lottie for a moment. The she realized Lottie was right. Native Americans, from what she knew, did bury their dead with objects of different kinds.

“Did you see any grave goods?” Barbie asked.

An’gel answered. “No, all we saw were a few bones.”

Dickce had not mentioned the ring Endora found, and An’gel apparently wasn’t going to mention it either. Had the ring, however, been the grave goods buried with Callie? She shivered at the thought.

“They might have been looted by the Partridge that built Ashton Hall. So all they could have found was the bones.”

Dickce glanced toward the front window in surprise. Martin evidently was paying attention to the conversation, though she had assumed he was focused solely on his phone. After those two sentences, though, he turned back to the device.

“That’s an excellent point, darling,” Reba called out. “Thank you.” Martin did not appear to hear his mother, Dickce noted. Perhaps he’s used to tuning her out. They had an odd relationship, or so it seemed to Dickce. Martin acted more like a henpecked husband than he did a son, but he appeared content to let his mother run his life.

“We can speculate all we want among ourselves about those remains,” An’gel said. “But I think we should all be careful around Hadley and not bring them up unless he does.”

“Yes, it must be terribly upsetting to him,” Lottie said. “To think that your own brother might have killed his wife and buried her in the garden.”

“We’ll have to rally around him and give him all the support he needs.” Barbie assumed a doleful expression. “Poor Hadley.”

Dickce could picture it now. A steady stream of casseroles and various delicacies making their way to Ashton Hall, all borne there by women eager to offer solace to the master of the house. She permitted herself a brief smile. Hadley might actually enjoy the attention, unless he had changed dramatically in the past forty years.

“How did they find the bones in the first place?”

Once again Martin Dalrymple startled them all by speaking from his seat at the desk.

“An excellent question, darling,” Reba said. “Yes, just how did they find the remains? You never told us that part.”

“And how you came to be there when it happened,” Barbie added.

“I told you that already,” Dickce said. “Hadley asked us over to consult on the garden.”

“Hadley had pictures of the gardens from when his mother was still living, and he wanted us—well, me, actually—to help him identify plants. We were discussing roses, I believe, when Benjy came in with Peanut to tell us there was something Hadley needed to see right away.” An’gel glanced at Dickce.

“Yes, that’s right,” Dickce said. “We went out with Benjy to the side of the house where an old tree had come down. Hadley said the tree was dying, and the storm uprooted it. There, in the disturbed ground near it, was where we saw the remains.”

“They weren’t actually under the tree?” Barbie asked.

“No, I don’t believe so. They were in the ground near the trunk, however,” An’gel replied.

“Did Native Americans place burials beside trees? Do any of you know?” Barbie asked. “I think I’ll go to the library and look that up.” She stood. “Come on, Lottie, we don’t want to outstay our welcome.”

“Goodness, no,” Lottie said as she popped up from the sofa. “Thank you for the coffee and those delicious cookies, An’gel, Dickce.”

Nice words considering you showed up at the door without letting us know you were coming. Dickce smiled as she and An’gel rose to see their guests out. She saw An’gel look pointedly at Reba.

“Come along, Martin,” Reba said. “We’d better be going, too. I’m sure An’gel and Dickce have things to do.” She waited until Martin approached her and held out a hand to assist her before she rose from the sofa. “I’m sure we’ll all be talking more about this in the days to come.”

“No doubt,” Dickce murmured as she trailed behind the group headed for the front door, preceded by An’gel.

The moment the door closed behind the visitors, An’gel turned to Dickce. “Thank the Lord they’re gone. I couldn’t believe they all showed up on our doorstep like that without even calling first.”

“Curiosity is more powerful than good manners, I reckon.” Dickce shrugged. “They probably realized that if they had called first, we would have told them we were too busy.”

“We certainly would have,” An’gel said. “Now that they’re gone, I am moving ahead with my plan. I need to talk to Kanesha.”

Dickce was struck by a sudden thought. “I wonder why Arliss didn’t show up. Since the others did, I’m surprised she didn’t pop in, too.”

“Perhaps she hasn’t heard about the discovery at Ashton Hall,” An’gel said. “Nor the ghost at Sarinda’s place. Interesting that Barbie and Lottie didn’t bring that up after Reba arrived.”

“Reba didn’t exactly give them much chance,” Dickce said. “By then they were probably more interested in hearing about the remains and speculating on whose they are.”

“True,” An’gel said. “I wonder if the police have checked Sarinda’s house yet. Perhaps Kanesha will know. I’m going to call her right now.” She walked back into the parlor to use the phone.

Dickce stood where she was, lost in thought. An idea had occurred to her, and she wondered for a moment why neither she nor An’gel had thought of it before. While An’gel talked to Kanesha, Dickce went to look for Benjy. He was just the person to carry out her idea.