Digging Up the Dirt

by Miranda James

Dickce clutched at her arm suddenly. “Look over there.”

  “Where?” An’gel said.

  “There, going into Helen Louise’s bistro.” Dickce pointed.

  An’gel glanced over in time to see Hadley Partridge open the door and usher Arliss McGonigal inside. Then the car in front of them started moving, and An’gel had to switch her attention back to the street ahead of them.

  Dickce giggled suddenly. “Oh, my, this is going to be interesting.”

  “What?” An’gel said. With traffic moving she wasn’t going to look and risk running into the car in front of her. “What did you see now?”

  “Barbie Gross just came out, carrying a box, and she looks peeved at something. Or someone.”

  “You’re imagining things.” An’gel was happy to find an open parking spot right in front of the bookstore. She pulled into it.

  “I’m not going to waste time arguing with you.” Dickce unbuckled her seat belt. “I’ll be back in a minute or two.” She slipped out of the car and shut the door.

  An’gel watched as her sister entered the store. She thought about what Dickce said. An’gel knew what her sister was thinking, that Barbie was annoyed over the fact that Hadley and Arliss were going around together. Unless Hadley took turns squiring all of the garden club board members around, most of them were bound to be peeved at not getting attention from him.

  For Pete’s sake, An’gel thought, we’re not in high school. We’re all old enough not to fall into these traps.

  Dickce was as good as her word. She returned promptly to the car, book in hand. In a moment they were on their way to Mrs. Turnipseed’s house.

  Dickce directed her to the right street, and not more than five minutes later they pulled up in front of the house. The neighborhood was an older one of smallish houses on large lots. The lawns all looked well-kept, except for that of Mrs. Turnipseed. The grass needed cutting, and the house could have used a fresh coat of paint, An’gel thought. The house looked unoccupied, and that worried her.

  She and Dickce walked up to the front door, rang the bell, and waited.

  CHAPTER 17

  An’gel was about to ring the bell again when the door opened abruptly.

  A tall, angular, gray-haired woman, around eighty years of age, dressed in a calf-length dressing gown and flat-soled shoes, stared at them. “What do you want?” Her tone sounded belligerent, An’gel thought.

  She wasn’t about to let that faze her, however. “Mrs. Turnipseed?” After the woman nodded, she said in a pleasant tone, “Perhaps you remember me? I’m An’gel Ducote. This is my sister Dickce Ducote.”

  Mrs. Turnipseed said, “I remember you, sure. What can I do for you?”

  “I know this is an imposition, just showing up on your doorstep,” An’gel said, “but if we could have a few minutes of your time, we’d like to talk to you.”

  Mrs. Turnipseed stared at them a moment. An’gel thought the woman was about to slam the door in their faces. Instead, she stepped back and waved them in.

  An’gel entered, Dickce right behind her. Based on what she’d seen of the yard and the outside of the house, An’gel expected signs of similar neglect inside. Her jaw nearly dropped, however, when she walked into the small living room.

  Opulently furnished with antique furniture, the room looked spotless. There was a scent of lemon furniture polish in the air, and every surface gleamed. An’gel suspected the large rug on the floor was Aubusson. It reminded her of their own carpets at Riverhill. She wondered whether Hamish Partridge had given Mrs. Turnipseed these beautiful furnishings or whether they’d been in her family for several generations.

  “What a beautiful room,” Dickce said with an appreciative smile.

  “Yes, it certainly is,” An’gel said.

  Mrs. Turnipseed nodded to acknowledge the compliment. She pointed to the sofa. “Why don’t y’all have a seat, ladies?”

  “Thank you,” An’gel said. She and Dickce did as their hostess directed. Mrs. Turnipseed chose a chair that faced the sofa across an ornately carved coffee table. She stared at them, evidently waiting for them to speak.

  “Again, we apologize for dropping by unannounced,” An’gel said.

  “You said that already. What is it you want?” Mrs. Turnipseed crossed her arms over her flat chest.

  An’gel didn’t appreciate her rude tone and, under different circumstances, wouldn’t have tolerated it. Now, however, she and Dickce needed information from this woman, so she let it pass.

  “You worked for many years for a friend of ours, Hamish Partridge,” An’gel said. After Mrs. Turnipseed nodded, she continued. “I’m sure you’re aware of the fact that Hamish left everything to his brother Hadley in his will.”

  Mrs. Turnipseed scowled at the mention of Hadley’s name. She did not speak, though, so An’gel forged ahead.

  “We’ve seen Hadley since he returned to town,” An’gel said. “He seemed to be quite surprised that no one knew anything about the whereabouts of his late brother’s wife, Callie.” She paused to gauge Mrs. Turnipseed’s reaction. There was none that she could discern.

  “At the time Hadley went away,” Dickce said, “no one seemed to know why he left so abruptly. Then, when it turned out Callie was gone, too, well, people just assumed she had gone with him.”

  “But Hadley says she didn’t,” An’gel added. “And Hamish never would say anything about it either.”

  Mrs. Turnipseed shrugged. “Mr. Hamish didn’t have to share his private business with anyone.”

  “We respected his privacy at the time,” An’gel said, “but perhaps that was a mistake. Callie disappeared, and if she didn’t run off to join Hadley, what happened to her? Can you tell us anything about it?”

  “I don’t see that it matters none now.” Mrs. Turnipseed shrugged again. “That was forty years ago. What she did was her business, that Mrs. Partridge. All I know is, she was gone, and Mr. Partridge never mentioned her name to me the rest of his life.”

  “He didn’t tell you anything about why she left or where she went?” Dickce said.

  “Wasn’t my business,” Mrs. Turnipseed replied. “Look here, I wasn’t even there when Mrs. Partridge up and left. I was gone to my sister’s house to visit a few days, and when I come back, well, Mrs. Partridge and that no-good Hadley were gone. Mr. Partridge never offered to explain, and I didn’t ask. Wasn’t my business.”

  “I see.” An’gel felt suddenly deflated. She had been so sure that Mrs. Turnipseed would know something about Callie’s disappearance. She wondered whether the former housekeeper had heard about the discovery at Ashton Hall. If she hadn’t, should she and Dickce be the ones to break the news?

  She glanced at her sister, and Dickce raised her eyebrows. An’gel had no doubt Dickce knew exactly what she was thinking. After a moment, An’gel decided she might as well tell Mrs. Turnipseed. The news was probably all over town by now anyway.

  “You may not have heard,” An’gel said, “but there was a startling discovery at Ashton Hall a couple of days ago. Do you know about it?”

  Mrs. Turnipseed tensed and shook her head. “No, I don’t.”

  Noting the reaction, An’gel said, “They discovered the remains of a person on the grounds of the house.” She kept her gaze riveted on their hostess.

  “Don’t see what that has to do with me,” Mrs. Turnipseed said. “Not my business what they find.” She stood. “Now, if you don’t mind, ladies, I’ve got an appointment I have to get to.”

  An’gel was certain the woman knew something, but she obviously wasn’t willing to tell them. The news of the discovery at Ashton Hall had shaken her, An’gel would have bet on it. They couldn’t press the matter now, however. She and Dickce stood and followed their hostess to the front door.

  “One more thing.” An’gel paused on the threshold as she remembered that they had one other per
son to inquire about. “Do you have any idea where we could find the housemaid that was there at the time? Coriander Simpson, I believe her name was.”

  “How should I know?” Mrs. Turnipseed scowled. “Not my business to keep up with colored trash.” She slammed the door in An’gel’s face.

  An’gel stood there a moment, furious with Mrs. Turnipseed. The woman was lying, she was certain. The housekeeper knew something about Coriander Simpson.

  “Come on, Sister,” Dickce said. “She’s not going to talk to us anymore. At least for now.” She headed down the walk toward the car.

  An’gel knew Dickce was right, but she found it hard to let go of her anger.

  In the car, Dickce said, “What did you think about that furniture?”

  “I was completely surprised,” An’gel replied. “It certainly wasn’t anything like what I expected.”

  “I know,” Dickce said. “I’d swear that sofa we were sitting on is exactly like the one Hadley’s mother had in her bedroom. I used to covet it because it would have been perfect in my bedroom.”

  “I think you’re right,” An’gel said after a moment. “That carpet looked familiar, too.”

  “I wonder what the rest of her house looks like,” Dickce said.

  “What I’m wondering is, did Hamish give her all those furnishings? Surely she didn’t just take them after he died?”

  “I doubt she’d be that brazen, because Hadley would have the law on her in two seconds flat,” Dickce said. “Hamish probably did give them to her. The real question is why.”

  “A bribe?” An’gel said. “I think we may be onto something. What does that woman know?” She started the car.

  “She’s a tough nut,” Dickce said. “I don’t think she’s going to tell anybody what she knows, not easily anyway.”

  “Did you notice her reaction when I told her about the remains that were found?” An’gel said.

  “She didn’t seem interested, and that was really odd,” Dickce said. “She kept saying it wasn’t her business. Anybody else would have been more curious about the remains. The fact that she didn’t ask questions or really react to the news convinces me she lied to us.”

  “She was nasty when I asked her about Coriander Simpson.” An’gel grimaced. “I could have slapped her right then and there.”

  “We could have predicted that,” Dickce said. “We already knew what she was like in that regard.”

  “True, but it was still nasty,” An’gel said. “What time is it?”

  “A little after one thirty,” Dickce said.

  “It’s too early to show up at Barbie’s house for the meeting,” An’gel said. “I don’t feel like driving home and then back again. What shall we do in the meantime to kill ninety minutes?”

  “Back to the bookstore,” Dickce replied promptly. “We have to go that way, more or less, and I haven’t been in to spend any time in . . . I don’t know when. I wouldn’t mind a chance to browse and chat with Jordan instead of just running in to pick up a book and running out again.”

  “We’ll both end up with a sackful of books by the time we’re ready to leave,” An’gel said.

  “And what’s wrong with that?” Dickce grinned. “You know you love looking at books as much as I do.”

  An’gel didn’t reply. She put the car in gear, and they headed back to the town square.

  They spent over an hour chatting with Jordan Thompson, the owner of the bookstore. Jordan had named it The Athenaeum, a play on the town’s name, but also a nod to the ancient Greek and Roman places of learning. Jordan knew her customers and their tastes well and never failed to recommend books she knew they would enjoy. As An’gel predicted, they each left the store with a large bag of books.

  They arrived at Barbie Gross’s house a few minutes before three. Barbie met them at the door and waved them in.

  “Come on in, girls, everyone else is here.” She ushered them into the living room.

  An’gel noticed that the everyone else didn’t include Hadley Partridge. She wondered whether he’d been invited, but she decided he was probably too busy with the ongoing work at Ashton Hall.

  Judging by the other board members’ choice of attire for an afternoon meeting, however, An’gel suspected they thought Hadley would be among them. All four of the other women were dressed as if they were about to head out to dinner with a beau. Arliss, An’gel decided, appeared to be wearing the same dress they had seen her in earlier, coming out of Helen Louise Brady’s place.

  After exchanging greetings with Lottie, Arliss, and Reba, An’gel sat next to Dickce in the same seats they’d occupied a few days ago.

  “Where is Hadley?” Reba frowned at their hostess. “I thought surely he’d be here since we invited him back on the board.”

  Before Barbie could respond, Arliss spoke. “I’m afraid Hadley is swamped at the moment.” She laughed. “The poor man has so much to do at Ashton Hall.”

  “How do you know so much about it?” Reba asked.

  “Arliss had lunch with Hadley today,” Barbie said in an arch tone. “I ran into them at Helen Louise’s when I went to pick up some pastries for our meeting.”

  Arliss smiled. “I have to admit it, Barbie caught us.” She sighed. “I’ve shared several meals with Hadley. He is still the most charming companion a woman could ask for.”

  “That was fast work, even for you.” Lottie sniffed. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you’re trying to line up husband number three. You’ve been chasing any man who’d give you a second look for years.”

  Arliss laughed. “Well, honey, at least I’m getting second looks, and that’s more than I can say for some of you.”

  Why do women do this? An’gel found it distasteful in the extreme. Women old enough to know better, yet here they were carrying on over a man like, well, the only words she could come up with were vulgar. She didn’t even want to soil her thoughts with them.

  “Ladies, I think it’s time we focused on the reason Barbie called this meeting,” An’gel said. “We need to be thinking about our friend and the proper way to pay tribute to her memory and to her contributions to the club.”

  “Hear, hear,” Barbie said. “I checked with the pastor at Sarinda’s church, and he says they will be happy to host a memorial. We need to come up with a date, though, and let him know.”

  “I volunteer to be in charge of the arrangements,” Arliss said. “I’ll draw up a budget for flowers and food, and we can split the cost among us. Agreed?”

  “Sounds fine,” An’gel said. “If you need help with anything, let me and Dickce know. We’ll be happy to do what we can.”

  Arliss nodded. She picked up a pad and pen from the table by her chair and started jotting things down as the group discussed the service.

  Thirty minutes later the board had a plan everyone agreed upon, and An’gel was relieved that there had been no further mention of Hadley Partridge. He seemed to bring out the worst among the members, and An’gel was weary of dealing with their behavior. She said as much to Dickce as they climbed into the car after the meeting ended.

  “Some women think their lives aren’t complete if they don’t have a man on their arm,” Dickce said. “You know that as well as I do, Sister.”

  “Yes, I do, but it still aggravates me to no end when otherwise intelligent women carry on like they were doing today over Hadley.” An’gel sighed and cranked the car. “I’m beginning to wish Hadley had never come back.”

  CHAPTER 18

  “I understand how you feel,” Dickce said, “but they’ll all settle down soon, especially when they see that Hadley is not going to rescue them from the loneliness of widowhood.”

  An’gel snorted. “What a ridiculous phrase. Rescue them from the loneliness of widowhood. Spare me the purple prose.”

  “My choice of words aside,” Dickce said, slightly nettle
d by her sister’s reaction, “the point is, Hadley’s only been back a short while. They’ll get over this silly competitiveness for his attention.”

  “I certainly hope so,” An’gel said.

  Dickce decided it was time to move on to a different subject. “When are you going to call Kanesha and tell her about our little talk with Mrs. Turnipseed?”

  “Right now,” An’gel said. “I’m heading to the sheriff’s department since’s it not all that much out of the way. We might as well talk to her in person if she’s in the office.”

  “Good idea,” Dickce said.

  Moments later they pulled into the parking lot at the Athena County Sheriff’s Department. Inside they inquired whether the chief deputy was available. She was, and soon an officer ushered them into Kanesha’s office.

  “Good afternoon, Miss An’gel, Miss Dickce.” Kanesha rose as they entered and waited until they were seated before she resumed her own seat behind the desk. “Have you got information to share with me?”

  “Yes, we do,” Dickce said. “We went to talk to Mrs. Turnipseed this afternoon.”

  “That was fast,” Kanesha said. “Did you find out anything useful?”

  “Not directly, no,” An’gel said. “The woman kept saying everything wasn’t her business. According to her, she was out of town visiting her sister when Hadley and Callie left Ashton Hall.”

  “She claims all that Hamish said to her was that Callie was gone,” Dickce added. “Then she said he never mentioned Callie’s name again for the rest of his life.”

  “What did you think of her responses? Was she telling the truth?” Kanesha asked.

  “She’s holding something back,” An’gel said. “We both thought so.”

  “Yes, we did,” Dickce said. “The other thing is, her living room is full of antique furniture and things that we think came from Ashton Hall.”

  Kanesha frowned. “Do you think she stole all this stuff?”

  “No,” Dickce said. “We don’t think she’d be that stupid.”

  “We think Hamish gave it all to her,” An’gel said. “But we’re wondering exactly why he gave it to her.”