Dead with the Wind

by Miranda James

  Lance stared at her. “After what happened?”

  An’gel pointed to her eye and her nose. “The encounter you had that left you unconscious on the floor.”

  Lance looked confused.

  “She’s talking about when you got the black eye and the sore nose,” Jacqueline explained.

  “Oh,” Lance said. “I’m okay, but my face is a wreck.” He frowned. “My mother says if I’m permanently scarred because of this, she’s going to sue Trey for a million dollars.”

  Jacqueline paled at that, and Dickce and An’gel exchanged glances.

  “How did your mother come up with that amount?” Dickce asked. “A million dollars is a lot of money.”

  “Mama says that’s how much my face would be worth if someone in New York discovered it,” Lance replied smugly. “Mama thinks I should be a model.” His expression turned sour. “And I was going to be, because Sondra and I were going to New York and I was going to be discovered. But now that’s not going to happen.” He brightened. “Unless Mama gets that million dollars from Trey.”

  “I’m sure your face will heal just fine and there won’t be any permanent damage,” Dickce said soothingly. “This time next week you’ll be back to just the way you were before.”

  “That would be nice,” Lance said. “I couldn’t stand being ugly or disfigured.” He frowned. “But if I’m not, then Mama won’t get the million dollars and I won’t be able to go to New York. It’s all so confusing.”

  If this is all an act, then he should definitely be in New York, but on the Broadway stage. An’gel didn’t think, however, that Lance was acting, but she almost wished he was. The boy was painfully stupid.

  “Yes, I’m sure it is,” Jacqueline said. “But wait and see what happens, okay, and don’t worry too much about it. Even if you end up looking like you always did, you may still find some way to New York without getting that million dollars from Trey.”

  Lance brightened at that. Before he could launch into further inane speech, An’gel said, “I presume you’re going back to town after you finish lunch, Jacqueline. Would you like Dickce or me to come with you?”

  Jacqueline shook her head. “Oh, no, I appreciate it, but if I need someone, Horace is in town. No, you stay here.”

  An’gel and Dickce exchanged glances. Jacqueline clearly did not want either of them to go with her, and An’gel couldn’t really understand why. It was Jacqueline’s choice, however, and she and Dickce would abide by her wishes.

  “All right,” An’gel said. “I have things I need to take care of anyway, and Dickce will be helping Benjy look after Tippy.”

  “I like Tippy,” Lance said. “She likes to play with me, and she doesn’t ask me hard questions.”

  “I know Tippy would like to see you, Lance,” An’gel said. “She was asking about you earlier.”

  “That’s sweet,” Lance said. “I hope she’ll still recognize me.” He touched his bruised nose and winced. “I look so different right now.”

  “She’ll know who you are,” Dickce said. An’gel could see her sister struggling not to giggle. “And if for some reason she doesn’t, I’ll introduce you.”

  Lance beamed at her. “Thank you. I wouldn’t want her to think I’m a stranger. Little girls aren’t supposed to play with strangers.” Lance paused, his brow furrowed. “I don’t think little boys are supposed to either.”

  “No, they’re not.” Jacqueline laid aside her fork and pushed back her chair. “Sorry to rush off like this, but I really need to get to town. Lance, you’re welcome to stay for dinner tonight if you’d like, although you’d better check with your mother.”

  “Mama will be happy if I stay here for dinner,” Lance said. “She told me I needed to be here to be a constant reminder.” He frowned. “Can’t remember what I’m supposed to be a reminder of, but Mama thinks I should stay.”

  Jacqueline drew a deep breath, and her eyes rolled heavenward for a moment. “Then that’s okay. I’ll see y’all later.” She walked out of the dining room, and moments later An’gel heard her running lightly up the stairs.

  An’gel figured she knew why Mama Perigord wanted Lance to hang around Willowbank. She was hoping someone would feel guilty enough about Trey’s attack on her baby to offer her some cash. An’gel thought Mama Perigord was probably a bit too mercenary, but she did agree that Lance deserved something from Trey after that nasty assault.

  Benjy and Tippy walked into the dining room, and Tippy squealed with happiness the moment she spotted Lance.

  “Wance!” She ran to him and held out her arms. Lance pushed back his chair and picked her up. He hugged her tight, and Tippy wrapped her arms around his neck. “Oh, Wance, I’m so gwad you is here. Can you come pway with me and Benjy?”

  Lance eased his grip on Tippy and let her down. He smiled. “I’d love to play with you, sweetie. And Benjy, too.” He smiled at Benjy as well, and Benjy blushed slightly.

  An’gel hoped Lance wouldn’t make a nuisance of himself where Benjy was concerned, but she trusted Benjy to handle the situation on his own.

  “Come on upstairs with us, then, if you’re finished with your meal,” Benjy said. “While you and Tippy are playing, I’ll go get Tippy’s two new friends, Peanut and Endora, so they can play, too.”

  Lance frowned. “I haven’t met them, have I? I don’t think I know any children named Peanut and Endora.”

  Tippy giggled as she tugged on Lance’s hand. “Siwwy Wance. Peanut is a doggie, and Endowa is a kitty. Come on.” She tugged again, and Lance yielded.

  “I like dogs and cats,” Lance said earnestly to Benjy. “So I’ll be happy to meet these friends of yours.”

  Benjy glanced quickly at An’gel and then at Dickce, and for a moment An’gel thought he was appealing for help. Then she realized he was trying hard not to laugh. She covered her mouth quickly with her napkin and coughed to keep from laughing herself.

  Lance and the excited Tippy left the room, and Benjy, shaking his head, followed them.

  Dickce looked at An’gel. “I don’t know about you, Sister, but I could use a nap. I didn’t get enough sleep last night. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go lie down for a bit.”

  “You go right ahead,” An’gel said. “I wouldn’t mind doing that myself, but first I want to talk to Estelle.”

  “About what?” Dickce asked as she rose from the table.

  “I’ll tell you later,” An’gel said. “You go on and get some rest, and we’ll discuss it when you’re up from your nap.”

  Dickce shrugged. “I’m not going to argue.” She yawned. “See you in a while.”

  An’gel hadn’t quite finished her meal. She ate the remainder quickly, her mind on the looming confrontation with Estelle. This time she was determined not to let the woman’s rudeness put her off. She would persevere until Estelle answered her questions.

  She pushed back her chair and dropped her napkin beside her plate. She realized Estelle might have left the kitchen by now, but An’gel was determined to find her, wherever she might be.

  She found only Jackson in the kitchen. “Where is Estelle? I really need to talk to her.”

  “She’s gone to her apartment,” Jackson said. “I reckon she was going to lie down.”

  “This is something that won’t wait,” An’gel said. “Thank you, Jackson.” She marched to the back door, intent on confronting the housekeeper.

  The air outside was cool, and An’gel blinked several times as her eyes adjusted to the bright sun. As soon as they had, she struck off across the backyard toward the servants’ quarters. The renovated building lay about fifty yards from the rear of Willowbank, and An’gel reached it quickly. There were four apartments, and as An’gel recalled, Estelle occupied the one at the end farthest from the house.

  She knocked on the door. “Estelle, I have to talk to you.” She waited a moment, then
knocked again. “Estelle, open this door.”

  Seconds later, the door swung open. Estelle glared at her. “What’s so all-fired important that you’re bothering me now? I need to rest.” She held a large, half-empty bottle in her hand. An’gel recognized it as an expensive brand of whiskey. She hadn’t figured Estelle for a tippler, but if she was a heavy drinker, that might explain a few things about her disposition.

  “I have some questions, and you’re going to answer them.” An’gel charged forward. Estelle yielded and backed away from the door.

  An’gel didn’t waste time examining the surroundings. She intended to push Estelle hard to get her answers.

  “You cleaned up the mess after Sondra threw all those scraps of fabric down from the second floor, didn’t you?”

  Was it her imagination, or did Estelle look relieved at the question?

  “Yes, I did.” Estelle moved past her and walked over to a table that held a glass and a siphon. “I was always cleaning up Sondra’s messes.”

  An’gel paid no attention to the bitterness in the woman’s voice. “Did you happen to notice that the scraps you picked up weren’t from the antique wedding gown?”

  Estelle appeared faintly surprised. She set the bottle down on the table next to the glass. “How did you find that out?”

  “I found a scrap you missed,” An’gel said. “When I looked at it closely, I realized it wasn’t satin. Then I went upstairs and found the gown, intact, in the bottom drawer of Mireille’s chifforobe.”

  “Then what’s the problem?” Estelle asked. “The gown is safe, not that it’s going to do anybody any good. Mireille will never be able to look at it again.” She picked up the whiskey bottle and poured three fingers into the glass on the table.

  “I know it was the replica of the gown that Sondra destroyed,” An’gel said. “I talked to Jacqueline, and she believes someone put Sondra up to destroying it as a joke on her grandmother.”

  Estelle’s eyes narrowed. “Do you think I’d do something like that? To Mireille, the best friend I ever had?”

  An’gel stared hard at her. “You tell me. If you didn’t do it, who did?”

  “I’ve got my own ideas about that.” Estelle picked up the glass. “You leave it to me. I’ll find out who did it and make him pay for what he did to Mireille.” She lifted the glass and tossed the entire contents into her mouth. She swallowed and set the glass down. An’gel wanted to grab hold of her and shake her till her teeth fell out, as her mother used to say.

  To An’gel’s surprise, Estelle started shaking on her own. Then she began clawing at her throat and gasping. She pitched forward onto the floor, writhed for about five seconds, and then was still.

  CHAPTER 29

  Benjy wished Lance had stayed at home. He didn’t mind looking after Tippy. She was a cute kid and pretty well behaved as long as you kept her entertained.

  That Lance, however. Benjy shook his head as he made his way down to the cottage to retrieve Peanut and Endora. Lance was a bigger kid in some ways than the four-year-old. Benjy felt sorry for him, though, because the guy was so dumb. He figured it wouldn’t be long before Tippy could outsmart Lance. She seemed like a pretty bright kid.

  He walked faster. He was anxious to get back to the house and make sure Tippy was okay. He was hoping Lance wouldn’t let something slip about Sondra. He’d almost taken Lance aside before he left to tell him not to talk about Sondra, but then he realized it might not do any good. He would just have to hope Sondra’s name didn’t come up until he was back with them and able to divert Tippy’s attention.

  Peanut bounded out the moment Benjy opened the door, woofing happily. Benjy squatted to hug the Labradoodle, and Endora jumped on his shoulder.

  “Okay, kids,” he said as he stood. “Let’s do our business, because I have to get back.” Peanut barked, and Benjy grinned at the dog. “Don’t worry, you’re going with me. Come on now, let’s get going.”

  Endora rode on his shoulder as he headed back toward Willowbank. She had a litter box in the cottage, so it was Peanut who really needed to do his business. Benjy thought the expression was funny. He’d picked it up from the sisters, who never said pee or poop when it came to the animals’ bodily functions. Benjy had learned to be careful about using such words around them. He wouldn’t offend them for anything, because they had been so good to him.

  Peanut hiked his leg against one of the largest trees Benjy had ever seen. Benjy heard voices coming from somewhere nearby. He glanced around but didn’t see anyone. Whoever it was must be on the other side of the tree. Peanut finished, and Benjy was about to lead the dog on toward the house.

  Then he caught a couple of words and stayed where he was.

  “. . . big trouble. You gotta get me out of this, or else I’m going to blow my brains out.”

  Benjy recognized Horace’s voice. Man, he sure sounded upset.

  Another man spoke, but Benjy wasn’t sure who he was.

  “I told you, I can’t right now. You’ve got to sit tight a little longer. And stop that stupid talk about killing yourself. Everything’s going to be fine, I promise you. I’ll have the money, just tell the creditors you’re getting a loan.”

  The more the guy talked, the more familiar his voice sounded. Benjy struggled to place it, and then he remembered. It was that lawyer guy. What was his name?

  The men moved away, headed toward the house, or so Benjy judged by the sound of their footsteps. He had a hand on Peanut’s head, and the Labradoodle remained quiet. Benjy didn’t want to embarrass the men, or himself, by letting them know he’d overheard their conversation. He also wondered whether what they were talking about had anything to do with what was going on with the family.

  As soon as he thought the men were out of sight, Benjy emerged from behind the tree with Peanut beside him and Endora still on his shoulder. The first chance he got, he would tell the sisters about what he’d heard.

  First, though, he needed to check on Tippy and Lance. Once they were in the house, he raced up the stairs, Endora in his arms now. Peanut ran ahead of him. There was no sign of the men, and Benjy was thankful for that.

  The door of Tippy’s bedroom was shut, and Peanut stood in front of it, whining. “Shhh,” Benjy told him, and the dog quieted. Benjy opened the door, and Peanut slipped in. Benjy stepped inside as Tippy squealed happily at the sight of Peanut. Lance looked up from his seated position on the floor and frowned.

  “We’re having a fashion show,” he explained. “Don’t let the dog knock stuff over.”

  “Okay,” Benjy said. He surveyed the scene Lance had put together. A folded towel formed a runway, and at the end away from Lance stood a dollhouse with four dolls in standing position leaned against it. Each of the dolls wore a brightly colored dress, and they all had shoes on their tiny feet.

  Tippy introduced Lance to Peanut and Endora. The cat hopped from Benjy’s shoulder onto the bed, where she preened and licked at her shoulders.

  “How pretty,” Lance said. “I never saw a cat that color before.”

  Benjy thought about explaining Endora’s breed to Lance but thought the conversation might get too complicated. Tippy’s next remark put it out of his mind completely.

  With her arm around Peanut’s neck, Tippy looked up at Benjy and announced in a solemn tone, “My mommy is in heaven.”

  Oh, crap, I knew I shouldn’t have left her alone with this guy. “Really. Who told you that?” Benjy glared at Lance, but the man was oblivious as usual.

  “Wance did,” Tippy said. “He said my mommy is in heaven, but I can’t see her until I go there. That’s going to be a wong, wong time, isn’t it, Wance?”

  “Yes, it is,” Lance said as he smiled at the little girl. “You have to stay here with me and be my friend. Your mommy will be fine in heaven. My daddy is there, too, and he’ll look after her.”

  “That’s g
ood,” Tippy said. “Mommy wikes having a man to wook after her.”

  Benjy grimaced at that statement. Tippy was way too young to be aware of that kind of thing.

  “Yes, I know,” Lance said. “I thought I was going to be the man who would look after her, and she was going to look after me, too.” He shook his head. “But I think she was going to change her mind about that before she went to heaven.”

  Tippy looked concerned. “But Mommy wuvved you, she told me she did. I told her I wuv you, too.”

  “Thank you, sweetie,” Lance said. “I love you, too.” He cut a sideways glance at Benjy. “I was going to be Tippy’s father.”

  “You can still be my daddy, Wance.” Tippy let go of Peanut to lean over and give Lance a kiss on the cheek.

  Benjy thought it was about time to change the subject. He felt increasingly uncomfortable. He believed that Lance really did love Tippy. He was like a big kid himself, but with Sondra gone, Lance really had no role in Tippy’s life other than as a family friend.

  “Tell me about your fashion show,” Benjy said.

  “Wance can do that,” Tippy said. “I have to potty.” She walked around Lance and headed for the door.

  Benjy followed her into the hallway and watched until she closed the bathroom door behind her. He kept an eye toward the bathroom, but he wanted to question Lance.

  “You said you thought Sondra had changed her mind and was interested in another man,” he said. “Do you have any idea who it was?”

  “No,” Lance said. “Sondra wouldn’t tell me. I think he was a lot older than her, though.” He frowned. “I don’t know why she’d want to marry an old guy. We really could have had a lot of fun together.”

  Benjy kept his eye on the bathroom door. He decided to risk a question. “Aren’t you gay?”

  Lance didn’t appear offended at the question. “What does that have to do with anything? Sondra knew, and it didn’t bother her. She told me she didn’t like, well, you know, having sex.” He blushed.

  Benjy couldn’t resist rolling his eyes at that, but he was glad Lance couldn’t see him doing it. “So you were going to marry her, and the two of you were just going to have fun together?”