“Yes,” Rosabelle replied.
“How can you be sure it wasn’t simply an accident?” An’gel hoped fervently that it was and that Rosabelle was imagining things.
Rosabelle glared at her. “There’s water on a couple of stairs on the left side of the staircase near the top. Unless you have a leak in the ceiling, someone had to put it there.”
An’gel felt cold to the bone at those words. She could think of no innocent reason that there would be water at the head of the stairs. Water on marble was dangerous, as she had occasion to know, having slipped herself a few times when mopping the stairs.
“On the left side?” Dickce frowned. “Why on the left side? Most people descend on the right, don’t they? I know I always go up and down on my right side.”
“That’s because you’re right-handed,” Rosabelle said. “I’m left-handed.” She paused. “And so was Marla. It was just her bad luck she got there ahead of me; otherwise, I would be the one lying dead.” She shuddered. “Just as my murderer intended.”
So that was why Rosabelle pressed herself so tightly against the banister to her right when she came downstairs a few minutes ago, An’gel thought. She glanced at her sister and could see her horror mirrored in Dickce’s expression. It had to be murder after all, if Marla really was dead.
Rosabelle appeared not to care much that Marla was probably dead. An’gel thought that was cold, even for someone as generally self-absorbed as Rosabelle.
The doorbell rang before An’gel could question Rosabelle further. Pull it together, she scolded herself. You have to deal with this, and sitting here quivering isn’t going to do one little bit of good to anybody.
An’gel pushed herself to her feet. “I’d better go see who that is.” She shot her sister a glance and knew that Dickce would understand she was to stay with Rosabelle.
When An’gel stepped into the hall, she saw that someone had admitted the emergency personnel. Rosabelle’s family stood out of the way near the wall opposite the parlor. Wade was talking to one of the EMTs while two others examined Marla.
An’gel glanced toward the front door. It stood open, and as she watched, Kanesha Berry, the chief deputy of the Athena County Sheriff’s Department, strode into the hall, followed by another deputy. Bates, An’gel said to herself, pleased that she could recall the name when her brain felt so sluggish.
Chief Deputy Berry glanced her way after surveying the scene. She walked over. “Miss An’gel. Looks like a bad fall.”
An’gel had known Kanesha Berry since the deputy was a small child, and had watched her grow into a seasoned professional who was outstanding at her job. An’gel was thankful that a person she knew and trusted would be in charge of the investigation into this dreadful event.
Her mouth suddenly felt dry. “I’m glad you’re here.” She hesitated over her next words. “It might not have been an accident.”
Kanesha’s gaze sharpened. “What do you mean?”
Before An’gel could answer, Deputy Bates claimed Kanesha’s attention. He motioned for her to join him where he waited with one of the EMTs.
“Excuse me a moment.” Kanesha walked over to the two men.
An’gel wished she could hear what they were saying. The EMT shook his head in response to something Kanesha said. She then spoke to Bates, who stepped away and pulled out his cell phone.
Probably calling for backup, An’gel thought. The churning in her stomach grew worse. As she watched, the two EMTs who had been working on Marla stood and moved away. One of them approached Wade and the rest of the family. An’gel averted her gaze. She couldn’t bear to watch as the EMT confirmed to them that Marla was beyond help now.
Kanesha approached An’gel again, while Bates joined the EMT talking to Wade and the others.
“She’s dead.” An’gel said it flatly, and Kanesha nodded.
“What did you mean when you said it might not have been an accident?”
An’gel hesitated. “Take a look at the head of the stairs. Left side, coming down. Go up on your left.”
Kanesha frowned, then nodded.
An’gel watched the chief deputy ascend the stairs, staying close to the banister. When she reached the top, she took a couple of paces into the hall before she turned and came close to the left side of the stairs. She squatted, elbows on knees, and peered closely at the top steps. After a moment she rose and came back down to rejoin An’gel.
“Water, third and fourth steps down,” she said.
An’gel nodded. “Plus she was wearing high heels. She must have slipped and fallen down the stairs.” She shuddered.
“Miss An’gel, you look a bit shaky,” Kanesha said, obviously concerned. “Can I get you something?”
“Maybe a little more whiskey,” An’gel said with a faint smile. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll rejoin Dickce and our guest in the parlor and have a bit more.”
“You go right ahead,” Kanesha said. “I’ll be along in a few minutes to ask you two what you know about this. One thing, though, before you go. Who is the deceased?”
“Her name is Marla Stephens,” An’gel replied. “She’s married, or she was married, to the gentleman over there.” She gestured toward Wade where he leaned against the opposite wall, eyes closed, while his half sisters clucked around him. Juanita had her arms around Benjy, who rested his head on her shoulder. “That’s her son, the young blond man. She was the daughter-in-law of an old friend of mine and Dickce’s, Rosabelle Sultan. She’s in the parlor with Dickce right now.”
“Thanks,” Kanesha said.
“If you need to, use the library,” An’gel said, indicating the room across the hall.
Kanesha nodded. “You go on and get that whiskey.”
An’gel was happy to comply. Rosabelle and Dickce turned to look at her when she entered the parlor.
Dickce stood and motioned for An’gel to sit. “You look like you need another shot.” She didn’t wait for a response from her sister and went to pour more whiskey.
An’gel settled herself on the sofa beside Rosabelle. “I just spoke to the deputy, and she told me Marla is dead.” She patted her guest’s hand. “I’m so sorry.”
Rosabelle sniffed. “If you’re expecting to hear any weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth from me, you’ll be waiting until hell freezes over. I’m no hypocrite. I didn’t like the woman, but I am sorry for her son. For Wade, too. He loved her, and I think she loved him in her own way.”
An’gel wasn’t much surprised by these words from her self-centered friend. She accepted a glass of whiskey from Dickce and took a healthy sip. She felt the warmth spread through her and settle in her empty stomach. She decided she should eat something before she had any more alcohol. Otherwise, she could end up tipsy, and that would never do.
Dickce took a seat opposite her sister and Rosabelle. She frowned at the latter. “You almost sound like you’re glad she’s dead.”
“I am not glad she’s dead. I’m not a monster,” Rosabelle said in a firm tone. “I am glad, however, that I’m alive and that the murderer failed to kill me. It was Marla’s bad luck she died in my place.”
An’gel raised her eyebrows at her sister. “It appears that Marla wasn’t the one trying to kill you.” She glanced at Rosabelle to gauge the effect of her statement.
“True.” Rosabelle cocked her head to one side, rather like a parrot, An’gel thought. She had to suppress a laugh. The whiskey was making her slightly giddy, she realized.
“That means she might not have been the one to doctor your food,” Dickce said.
“I suppose so.” Rosabelle shrugged. “If Wade was behind it, then it’s poetic justice.”
An’gel was confused. “If Wade was behind what? The doctored food or the water on the stairs?”
“Either, or both, I suppose.” Rosabelle shifted her head to the other side. “He migh
t have gotten Marla to doctor the food, and when that didn’t work, he put water on the stairs. His tough luck the wrong woman slipped and broke her neck.” She sniffed.
Did Rosabelle have no maternal instincts whatsoever? An’gel wondered. She exchanged an appalled glance with Dickce. Clearly Wade couldn’t expect much sympathy from his mother. Nor could poor Benjy, An’gel decided. She felt sad for the young man. What a tragedy for him to lose his mother at his age, and in such a terrible fashion.
An’gel also wondered what Kanesha would make of Rosabelle. Should she try to talk to the deputy herself, give her a little of Rosabelle’s history, before Kanesha questioned her old friend? She thought about that for a moment before she concluded it was a bad idea. Kanesha was smart. It wouldn’t take her long to figure out exactly what she was dealing with in Rosabelle Sultan.
An’gel couldn’t think of anything else to say to Rosabelle now, and evidently Dickce couldn’t either. Rosabelle didn’t speak again and instead sat staring at her hands and picking at something on her dress.
The silence lengthened, and An’gel wondered impatiently how long it would be before Kanesha came to talk to her, Dickce, and Rosabelle. The giddiness she’d experienced just moments ago had passed, and now she felt her hunger more keenly. She remembered the tray of food Dickce had been bringing to their guests, but the tray was sitting on a table in the hall. Perhaps she should retrieve it and take it to the library. She should probably ask Clementine to make coffee or hot tea to offer everyone. Something hot and sweet would be good for all of them about now.
Before she could act on these thoughts, Kanesha entered the room. She closed the door behind her and then stopped only a couple of paces into the room.
“Miss An’gel, could I speak to you for a moment?” She indicated with a nod that An’gel should join her.
“Certainly.” An’gel rose from the sofa and walked over to the deputy. Kanesha’s gloomy expression made her nervous. What else could have happened? she wondered.
“I wanted to let you know that the body has been removed,” Kanesha said. “I’ll be talking to the family in a moment, but first I wanted to ask you something.”
“Of course,” An’gel said. “What is it?”
“Is there any reason for Vaseline to be all over the banister?”
CHAPTER 9
For a moment An’gel wasn’t sure she had heard correctly. “Vaseline?” She shook her head. “No, no earthly reason that I can imagine.”
“That’s what I thought.” Kanesha’s mouth set in a grim line. “One of the techs found it moments after the body was taken away. I’m betting there’s also residue on the hands from where she clutched at the banister to keep from falling.”
An’gel felt sick to her stomach at the mental image. She could see Marla Stephens make a frantic grab for the banister when she first started to slip. Her hands encounter the Vaseline and slide right off, and the momentum of that desperate reach further unbalance her. So down she went, with nothing to break her fall except cold, unyielding marble.
“Miss An’gel,” Kanesha said, her concern obvious, “how well do you know these people?”
“Not well at all,” An’gel said, her throat suddenly dry. She coughed. “Dickce and I have known Rosabelle since our college days. We were sorority sisters at Athena College. I never met any of her family, however, until today, when they all just showed up here. Rosabelle first, then the rest of them followed right behind her.”
“Did you invite them here?”
An’gel shook her head. “No, Rosabelle came to us because she has a problem she wanted us to help her with. Her family turned up soon after because they’re worried about her.”
Kanesha frowned. “Can you tell me the nature of her problem?”
“I think you should ask Rosabelle about that yourself.” An’gel nodded in the direction of the sofa. “Let me introduce you, and then Dickce and I will make a discreet withdrawal so you can talk to her alone.”
An’gel turned and approached the couch. “Rosabelle, this is Chief Deputy Kanesha Berry from the sheriff’s department. She will be in charge of the investigation, and she needs to talk to you.” She turned to Kanesha. “This is Rosabelle Sultan, our old sorority sister.”
“Ma’am.” Kanesha inclined her head. “I know this is a distressing time for you and your family, but I’m afraid there are questions I need to ask you.”
Rosabelle stared at the deputy, and for a moment An’gel feared her old friend was going to be rude. She recalled that, when they were younger, Rosabelle’s attitudes about race hadn’t been all that enlightened. She could only hope that in the intervening years Rosabelle had become more tolerant.
“Of course, Deputy,” Rosabelle finally said. “I have much to tell you, and I can assure you that you’ll have my complete cooperation.”
“Then Dickce and I will leave you for now,” An’gel said, greatly relieved. “If you need us, we’ll be in the kitchen.”
Dickce didn’t say anything until she and An’gel reached the hall. “Do you think I should take the food I was bringing to the library right now?”
An’gel nodded. “While you do that, I’ll get started on a pot of coffee. I’m sure everyone could use a hot drink.” She glanced across the hall toward the library. The door stood open, and she could see a deputy she didn’t recognize standing in profile inside the room.
Dickce picked up the tray and headed for the library. An’gel watched for a moment before turning down the hall toward the kitchen.
Diesel greeted her with reproachful warbles when she stepped inside. She scratched his head, and the warbles turned into purrs.
“He’s been talking like that for five minutes, I swear,” Clementine said as she wiped her hands on a dishcloth. “What’s all the noise I keep hearing out there? I’ve been too busy to come take a look-see. Besides, I thought I’d best keep the cat in here out of the way.”
Diesel rubbed himself against An’gel’s legs while she gave the housekeeper a quick rundown of the events of the past hour. Clementine’s eyes widened, and she started shaking her head as if in disbelief. When An’gel concluded her summary, Clementine closed her eyes for a moment. An’gel could see her lips moving and figured Clementine was praying.
An’gel closed her own eyes and did the same, mentally sending a plea heavenward for patience, understanding, and protection. Beside her Diesel had stilled, and when she opened her eyes and glanced at him, he had his head down, too. She couldn’t decide whether the cat was also praying, imitating her behavior, or simply examining his front paws.
Then An’gel noticed an ant crawling across the floor. Diesel appeared intent on stalking it, so she left him to it while she got busy making enough coffee for nine people. She ate three cookies during the time it took for the machine to brew. Clementine helped by assembling cups and saucers, spoons and sweeteners, and a pitcher of half-and-half.
All the while Diesel toyed with the ant, until it finally escaped under a cabinet. The cat scratched at the woodwork until An’gel told him to stop. He turned his head in her direction and uttered a reproachful-sounding warble, and An’gel and Clementine exchanged amused glances. He really is a wonderful tonic when things are stressful, An’gel thought.
Clementine wheeled out the wooden serving cart, and An’gel poured the coffee into a large carafe. “Would you go ahead and make another pot?” she said to Clementine. “I’m sure we’ll be wanting more before too long.” She looked down at Diesel, who had climbed into the bottom shelf of the cart. He was so large he barely fit. His long plume of a tail hung out one end and his head the other.
“I really think you ought to stay here with Clementine. You’ll just be in the way of all that’s going on outside the kitchen.”
Cat and woman stared at each other for a moment.
An’gel put on a stern expression. “Come now, Diesel, be a good bo
y, and get out of there.”
Diesel chirped three times but remained where he was.
An’gel debated whether she should attempt to pull him out. She didn’t think he would try to scratch or bite, but she was reluctant to remove him forcibly. She really didn’t feel like getting down on her knees to wrestle the cat loose, and she certainly wasn’t going to ask Clementine to do it. Their knees were far too old for such antics, she reflected wryly.
“Oh, very well.” An’gel glanced at Clementine, who was smiling broadly. “I guess he’s going with me.” She took hold of the cart and headed for the door. “I’ll be back in a few minutes for the second pot.”
Diesel’s tail stuck out of the back of the cart and swished against her legs as An’gel pushed forward slowly. Good thing I’m not ticklish there, she thought.
When they reached the library, the young deputy at the door moved aside to let her pass. He glanced down at the cat and grinned, but he quickly sobered. An’gel nodded politely.
Inside she surveyed the room for a moment, struck by the silence broken only by the muted sounds of breathing. Maudine and Bernice occupied the single sofa, while Wade sat behind the large desk that dominated one part of the room. Juanita and Junior accounted for the other two chairs, and Dickce and Benjy huddled together in the window seat that overlooked the front lawn. No one spoke, and An’gel felt the tension.
Three of the four walls were covered nearly floor to ceiling with bookshelves. The Ducotes had been readers and book collectors, one generation after another. Windows in the two outside walls offered the only breaks, except for the fireplace, which shared a wall with the room next to it. Several small, elderly Axminster rugs dotted the floor.
An’gel wheeled the cart, with its double load of coffee and feline, to the area in front of the window seat. “I’ve brought coffee. I thought we could all use a hot drink. Please, come and help yourselves.” She twisted the lid of the carafe and started pouring the liquid into cups.
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