Rosabelle’s trembling voice broke the uneasy silence that ensued after Kanesha’s speech. “Deputy, could I say something?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Kanesha said.
“I know that I am the target of all this hate,” Rosabelle said. “I was the one who was supposed to fall down those stairs. But Marla happened to get there before me, so she was the one to die. I am almost as terrified of spiders as my poor Maudine was. I was the one who was supposed to find them and be frightened into a heart attack. But instead it was my oldest child.” Her voice broke on the last three words. She took a moment to compose herself before she continued. “I don’t know which of you is doing this, but I beg of you, confess and stop these acts of wickedness. I will do whatever you want, but just stop this.” She burst into tears, and Antonio once again enfolded her in his arms.
An’gel realized she was gripping the arms of her chair tightly enough that her hands ached. She willed her body to relax, and her fingers eased their grip. She wondered whether Kanesha had deliberately tried to evoke a response like this. Rosabelle had risen to the bait, but would her impassioned plea have any effect whatsoever?
Wade moved away from the liquor cabinet and into his mother’s line of sight. “Nicely done, Mother. You really missed your calling, you know. Dad really should have used his connections to get you in front of the camera. You’d have given Bette Davis and Joan Crawford a run for their money.” He laughed, and An’gel wondered how much whiskey he’d had.
Rosabelle’s face whitened as she pulled away from Antonio. “How dare you say such things to me? Have you no decency?”
“There’s nothing decent about you,” Wade said in a sneering tone. “Or about what’s going on here. I think you’re the one who needs to confess, Mother dearest. You hated Marla, so you figured out how to get rid of her and make it look like you were the intended victim. So convenient.” He shook his head. “And poor Maudie, always asking you for money. That’s a cardinal sin where you’re concerned. You love money too much to want to share it with anyone, especially with your children, who deserve it every bit as much as you do.”
An’gel marveled that none of the others had jumped to Rosabelle’s defense, even her supposedly besotted husband.
“Deputy, I’m sure there’s something you don’t know about the terms of my mother’s first husband’s will. Did you know that, if Maudine and Bernice die before Mother does, their portions of the estate revert to Mother? They have to outlive her if they want to inherit anything to leave to their own children or a surviving spouse. My father’s will is the same. That’s why my wife and my sister had to die, and my mother killed them both.”
CHAPTER 31
Dickce had never in her life heard such a vicious attack as the one Wade launched against Rosabelle. She had been watching him steadily work his way down to the bottom of a nearly full bottle of whiskey. She was amazed he was still upright, much less able to articulate his hatred of his mother so forcefully.
She could tell that An’gel was distressed by the nasty scene. She was, too, but part of her was curious to see how Rosabelle would react. Her own cynicism sometimes startled her, but with Rosabelle, she had decided over the past two days, every display of emotion was suspect.
Dickce had only seconds to wait. Rosabelle’s expression changed from disbelief, to horror, and finally to outrage as Wade spoke. When he concluded, she rose from the sofa on unsteady legs, and Dickce thought Rosabelle was going to attack her son physically. Instead she stood in place and launched a verbal assault.
“Your father knew how weak his son was and always would be. He made me promise on his deathbed that I would do my best to keep you from sheer destitution. He knew you were completely incapable of managing money, and he arranged things so that you would always have something. You ought to be grateful to me that you weren’t out on the streets foraging through garbage cans years ago. Instead you live in a beautiful home with plenty of food and a generous allowance. Right now if I could, I would throw every last cent of your inheritance in your face and tell you to go to the devil.”
Wade shrank back from the furious onslaught of his mother’s words. Dickce felt sorry for him, though he really had brought it on himself. Rosabelle was a vicious opponent, and surely he ought to have known that by now. She gave no quarter. Evisceration seemed to be a skill she had mastered long ago.
Dickce glanced at Kanesha. Would she put a stop to this? Or was she deliberately letting it go on in hopes of forcing the killer’s hand? Dickce wasn’t sure how that would work. If Rosabelle was the killer, as Wade had claimed, she seemed proof against this particular ploy.
Dickce glanced at Bernice, Junior, and Juanita. All three looked shell-shocked, as well they might.
“Excuse me, Deputy Berry. I need to speak with you.”
Startled, Dickce turned to see one of the male deputies in the doorway. He took a couple of steps into the room. The chief deputy didn’t appear to be all that happy about the interruption. Things had hit a boiling point, and now the heat dissipated.
Kanesha left her spot by the fireplace to confer in an undertone with her subordinate. “You’ll have to excuse me for moment,” she said to everyone before she followed him out of the room.
Rosabelle remained on her feet, her gaze locked upon her son. She seemed not to have heard Kanesha. Wade appeared thoroughly cowed now. He stared at the glass in his hands and shifted his weight back and forth from one leg to another. The air of tension in the room began to increase again, and Dickce wished suddenly that she could simply get up and walk out. She had had enough of the drama.
Kanesha carried a purse encased in a large plastic bag with her when she returned about two minutes later. Dickce stared at it. If she wasn’t mistaken, it was the handbag Rosabelle had had with her when she arrived yesterday.
The chief deputy walked back to the area in front of the fireplace. She held the plastic bag up so that everyone could see its contents. “Can anyone identify this purse?”
“It’s mine.” Rosabelle stepped forward to claim it but faltered when Kanesha shook her head.
“Thank you for the identification,” Kanesha said. “I’m sorry, but I need to hold on to it for a little while.”
“That’s outrageous,” Rosabelle said. “What do you need with my handbag? You have no right to be going through my things without my permission. I demand that you show me your search warrant. Do you have one?”
Kanesha regarded her coolly. “No, ma’am, I do not. I don’t need one in this situation. I am investigating a crime scene, and I’m within my rights to search wherever I think it’s necessary. In this case, the crime scene involves the whole house.”
Dickce thought Rosabelle might protest further. She was so riled up now, she might do anything. To Dickce’s surprise, however, Rosabelle stepped back and resumed her place on the sofa beside Antonio without another word. She continued to glare at Kanesha.
“In the course of the search for evidence,” the chief deputy said, “one of the deputies came across this handbag. Inside it he discovered a plastic bag that contained one rubber spider. The spider in that bag matched those that we found in the bathroom with Mrs. Pittman.”
Rosabelle gasped. “I don’t believe this. Someone else put that in my handbag. I can’t stand to be anywhere near a spider. There’s no way I would ever carry even fake ones around with me.”
“When was the last time you looked in this bag, ma’am?” Kanesha asked.
“I’m not sure.” Rosabelle frowned. “Probably last night before I went to bed. I didn’t need it for anything today. I left it sitting on the dressing table. Anyone could have come in the room while I was out and put that plastic bag inside.”
Kanesha regarded her for a moment before she turned to Juanita. “Miss Cameron, you are sharing the room with your grandmother. Correct?”
“Yes,” Juanita said. “And if you me
an by that, did I have an opportunity to put the bag of spiders in Grandmother’s purse? Well, I did. Have the opportunity, I mean.” She grimaced. “I’m not fond of crawly things either. I don’t even like to touch fake ones.”
“There’s one person who doesn’t mind crawly things like spiders,” Wade said. “My stepson Benjy has two tarantulas he keeps in his room at home. You ought to be questioning him. Somebody put him up to playing a prank with those spiders, I’ll bet.” He laughed, the sound harsh and disturbing.
Dickce wanted to leap out of her chair and slap the man. How dare he try to involve poor innocent Benjy in this horrible mess? She forced herself to take a deep breath before she spoke.
“I think you’ll find, Deputy Berry, that Benjy had no opportunity to do that. He hasn’t been up to the second floor of the house at all. He was with me most of the morning, and if you’ll recall, we were out of the house. Since we returned, he has been with other people the entire time, I believe.” That ought to put an end to that, Dickce thought with satisfaction. She wasn’t going to sit idly by and let someone try to make Benjy out to be a malicious prankster.
She noticed An’gel looking at her rather oddly. She shook her head slightly to indicate that she would talk to her sister later. An’gel frowned but turned her gaze back to Kanesha as she responded to Dickce.
“Thank you. Your statement is helpful. However, from my discussion with Miss Buford, the housekeeper’s granddaughter, I know that Mr. Stephens had an opportunity to be alone with the towels for at least a minute before she took them upstairs and put them in the guest bathroom.”
Dickce knew Kanesha had to consider every angle, every possibility, but still it disconcerted her to hear the deputy speak so coolly about Benjy. She had to concede that he might have had the opportunity to put the rubber spiders in a towel, but she couldn’t see that he had a probable motive. As soon as she had the opportunity to speak to Kanesha on her own, she would give the deputy the benefit of her opinion of Benjy’s character.
“I have to consider the possibility that every one of you had an opportunity to put the spiders in the towel and then put the plastic bag into this handbag.” Kanesha held it up again. “I will be asking you all more about this during our one-on-one interviews. Mr. Pittman, I would like to start with you. Will you come with me now?”
At first Junior didn’t seem to have heard Kanesha. Dickce thought he looked completely forlorn. She felt sorry for him, as she did for Benjy. Both of them had lost their mothers in the space of a day.
Juanita patted Junior’s hand. “Sweetie, the deputy wants you to go with her now, okay?”
Dully Junior looked at his cousin, then nodded. With what looked like great effort, he pushed himself up from the sofa and stood, blinking, at Kanesha. Then he moved slowly toward the door into the hall.
“Please remain here until I call for you,” Kanesha said. “One of my men will remain in the room with you, and as before, if you need anything, please speak to him. This may take some time.”
Dickce rose. “Deputy, would it be okay for me to go to the kitchen and see that coffee is prepared for everyone?” She figured Antoinette and Clementine had already made it, but someone would have to fetch it. Besides, it would give her a chance to speak to Benjy.
“That’s fine,” Kanesha said. “Now if you’ll excuse me.” She departed the room.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Dickce said to the room at large. She did not look at her sister before she made a beeline for the door.
She almost ran into Kanesha’s deputy as he exited the room. He managed to sidestep her as she hurried past, and she flashed him an apologetic smile.
Calm down, she told herself, there’s nothing on fire. She slowed her pace. She remembered something she had completely forgotten earlier—the water pistol. The killer had taken it from Benjy’s room back in California and used it to cause a fatal fall in her home.
What if the rubber spiders belonged to Benjy as well?
CHAPTER 32
Dickce sped up again and hurried into the kitchen. She hoped like anything those spiders weren’t Benjy’s property. If they were, things could get ugly, because Benjy was the outsider in Rosabelle’s family. He would make a convenient scapegoat, even though Dickce knew Kanesha was far too smart to accept such a pat answer. Or to force evidence to fit it.
In the kitchen Dickce found Antoinette at the table by herself, drinking a diet soft drink. There was no sign of Benjy, Diesel, or Clementine.
Antoinette stood. “Are you ready for the coffee yet, Miss Dickce? I made a couple of pots and put them in the big urn. I figured I’d better wait to bring it until you or Miss An’gel came and asked for it.” She nodded to indicate the serving cart, laden with the urn and all necessary items for coffee service.
“Thank you, dear,” Dickce said. “Would you mind taking it to the parlor for me now? And can you tell me where Benjy is? I suspect your grandmother is out back smoking.”
“I’d be happy to,” Antoinette said. “Benjy took Diesel with him out to the garage apartment a while ago. And, yes, Gran is out smoking.” She grimaced. “I have tried and tried to get her to quit, but nothing works. Mama says that when Gran passes on, they’ll have to leave the casket open three days to let the smoke clear.” She grasped the handle of the serving cart and pushed it toward the door into the hall.
“Thanks.” Dickce smiled. She had heard that expression before, and in Clementine’s case, she reckoned it was appropriate.
She found the housekeeper in her usual spot on the back porch. She paused to tell Clementine that she had asked Antoinette to take the coffee to the parlor, then hurried across the back lawn and driveway to the garage. She opened the apartment door, stepped inside, and called up the stairs, “Benjy, are you up there?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he called back, and moments later he appeared at the top of the stairs, Diesel beside him. “Come on up. I won’t be long. I was just calling my friend in California, the one I told you about? He said he would keep Bert and Ernie. He’s been looking after them while I’m gone anyway.”
“That’s good,” Dickce said as she climbed up toward him. “Kanesha has started to question people one-on-one, and I decided to slip out for a few minutes. I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Benjy stepped back, frowning, as Diesel rubbed himself against Dickce’s legs. “I’ll bet it’s about the rubber spiders, isn’t it? Antoinette told me about them and how they were all over the bathroom.”
“Yes, it is,” Dickce said. She walked over to the battered sofa and sat. She patted the space next to her. “Please, come sit with me.”
Benjy slowly complied with her request, and Diesel jumped up to occupy the space between them. He put his head in her lap and his back legs and tail across Benjy’s. Dickce absentmindedly began to scratch his head, her thoughts focused on the questions she had for Benjy.
“Did the deputy ask you about them?”
“No, she didn’t,” Benjy said. “I haven’t seen her. Right after Antoinette came back from upstairs and told me and her grandmother what happened, I brought Diesel out here. I had to get out of there.”
“I don’t blame you,” Dickce said. She knew Kanesha might be angry with her for talking to Benjy about the rubber spiders before she had a chance to do so officially, but Dickce would deal with that later. Right now she wanted to know whether Benjy was connected to them in any way.
“I know what you’re going to ask.” Benjy looked at her, and she could read the plea in his eyes. “I’m pretty sure those rubber spiders are mine. I bought a bag of them two or three years ago for Halloween. I was going to put them around the house as a joke, but then my mom told me about how scared Mrs. Pittman and her mother are of them. So I stuck them in the closet and forgot about them, like I did the water pistol.”
“Did anyone else know about the spiders?” Dickce asked.
Benjy frowned. “My mom told the Wart, and then he yelled at me in front of everybody about it. They all knew about them.”
“Thank you,” Dickce said. “Did you bring the spiders with you?”
“No,” Benjy said. “I’ll bet the Wart is telling everybody that I did it as a joke, but I didn’t. I swear I didn’t.”
Diesel, perhaps sensing the boy’s distress, shifted himself so that he could sit next to Benjy and rub his head against the boy’s shoulder. Benjy smiled briefly.
Dickce reached across the length of feline between them and squeezed the boy’s hand. “I know you didn’t, but Deputy Berry will have to ask you about them. You just tell her what you told me. You still haven’t told her about the water pistol?”
“No, ma’am,” he replied. “I really haven’t had a chance to, but I will as soon as I can.”
“Good.” Dickce rose. “Why don’t you and Diesel come back to the house with me now? You can stay in the kitchen, if you like, but it’s best to be close at hand when the deputy wants you.”
Benjy agreed to come with her, and the three of them set off for the house.
“I feel bad for Junior,” Benjy said. “He’s lost his mom now, too, but he got along with her most of the time better than I did with mine. It really bites.”
He sounded so forlorn, Dickce wanted to stop and hug him right then. Instead she said, “Losing your mother bites no matter how old you are and no matter how the two of you got along when she was with you. An’gel and I lost our mother quite a few years ago now, and there are very few days that go by that I don’t think about her and miss her.”
“How do you stand it, knowing you’re not going to see her again?” Benjy said. “I guess at least you’ve got your sister.”
“Yes, I’m lucky to have my sister,” Dickce said. “Having someone to share the memories of a loved one with means a lot, but even if you don’t have brothers or sisters, you can count on friends to help you through the rough times.”
1 Bless Her Dead Little Heart Page 19
