Digging Up the Dirt

by Miranda James

  “If anyone can do it, Kanesha Berry can,” Melba said.

  “Yes, you’re right about that,” An’gel said. “Well, Melba, we’ve enjoyed visiting with you, but Sister and I had better get going. You take care now.”

  Melba bade them good-bye, and An’gel led the way out of the building and back to the car.

  “At least we know what the woman on the street thinks about all this.” Dickce buckled her seat belt and then inserted the key in the ignition. “Where to next?”

  An’gel didn’t respond right away, and Dickce had to ask her again.

  “Sorry, I was thinking,” An’gel said. “I’ve had an idea. Why don’t I call Barbie and see if she’ll meet us for coffee and a pastry at Helen Louise’s bistro? I think we need to talk to her about Hadley and what she might have been up to with him forty years ago.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Dickce said. “Call her, and even if she can’t join us, we can still have that coffee and pastry.” She put the car in gear and headed for the town square.

  An’gel pulled out her phone and found the number in her contacts. Moments later she was speaking to Barbie.

  “We’re in town this morning on business,” An’gel said. “We’re heading over to Helen Louise’s bistro for coffee and a pastry, and we thought it would be fun if you could join us. Can you?”

  “Love to,” Barbie said. “What a nice surprise. I’ll be there in two shakes.” She ended the call.

  “She’s coming,” An’gel said. “Now if we can only get her to tell us what we want to know.”

  Dickce found a parking space near the entrance to the bistro, and when the sisters walked inside, Helen Louise Brady, the owner, looked up from the cash register and smiled. She came around from behind the counter to greet them.

  “Miss An’gel, Miss Dickce, how lovely to see you. I hope you’ve both been well.” Helen Louise gave them each a quick hug.

  An’gel had to look up slightly when she returned Helen Louise’s greeting. The bistro owner was around six feet tall, a striking woman with dark hair and a sense of elegance about her, even in her work clothes and baker’s apron.

  “We’re doing fine,” An’gel said. “We thought we’d have lunch here. A friend is going to join us. Barbie Gross. Do you know her?”

  “Yes, I do. She’s a regular.” Helen Louise escorted them to the table she reserved for special guests. “What would you like to drink?”

  “Water for now, I think,” An’gel said. “What is the special today?”

  “Chicken cassoulet,” Helen Louise replied. “I can promise you it is vraiment délicieux, even if I prepared it myself.” She smiled broadly.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever had anything here that wasn’t vraiment délicieux,” Dickce said with an answering smile.

  “Sounds perfect to me,” An’gel said. “I agree with Sister. The food here is always magnifique.”

  “Merci beaucoup, Mesdames,” Helen Louise replied with a tilt of the head. “Cassoulet for two, then. Anything besides water to drink?”

  “I’ll have a glass of whatever wine you think appropriate,” An’gel said, and Dickce echoed her.

  “Barbie ought to be here soon,” Dickce added.

  “I won’t serve the cassoulet until I know what she wants,” Helen Louise assured them. “I’ll be back in a moment with water for you.”

  Right after An’gel and Dickce received their water with slices of lemon, Barbie breezed in. She spotted them immediately but paused on the way to the table to speak to another customer—an older man, quite distinguished looking, An’gel thought. She didn’t know him, though.

  Barbie, dressed in a silk warm-up suit and sneakers and sporting pearls around her neck and on her ears, sat down across from An’gel. She stuck her purse on the vacant chair to her left.

  “I’m so glad you called,” she said. “I was getting bored. Lottie had something she just had to do, and I didn’t feel like TV or a book. I’ve been feeling so restless lately, all these odd things happening.”

  “I know what you mean,” An’gel said, rather mendaciously. She and Dickce rarely ran out of things to do and so were seldom bored.

  “Yes, these terrible things.” Dickce shook her head. “First Sarinda, and then Arliss. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”

  “There’s a lunatic out there.” Barbie shivered. “I’m surprised the police or the sheriff’s department hasn’t tracked him down yet. Surely they can find the person who ran Arliss off the road.”

  “They are looking,” An’gel said. She debated whether to mention her own experience to Barbie. She decided she would, simply to gauge the reaction.

  “As a matter of fact, I had a similar experience,” An’gel said. “To what happened to Arliss, that is.”

  “Seriously?” Barbie’s eyes fairly popped. “When?”

  “Right after we all left Ashton Hall yesterday afternoon,” An’gel said. She thought Barbie’s astonishment wasn’t feigned.

  Helen Louise came to the table then with water for Barbie, who also decided on the cassoulet for lunch, along with wine. “Just bring the bottle,” she told Helen Louise.

  Barbie turned back to An’gel. “Exactly what happened? Why aren’t you in the hospital?”

  An’gel gave her a quick summary of the incident. After she finished, she waited for Barbie’s reaction.

  “Are you sure it wasn’t simply a coincidence?” Barbie asked. “Seems to me if the person who hit you really wanted you in that ditch, he would have tried again.”

  “It’s entirely possible,” An’gel said. “I’d much rather think that than think someone was trying to kill me.”

  Helen Louise arrived with their servings of cassoulet before they could discuss the subject further. For several minutes all three women concentrated on the delicious dish.

  An’gel ate about half of hers before deciding she had eaten more than enough. The rest could go home with them. “This is superb, but I think I’ve had enough for now.” She picked up her wineglass and finished off the contents.

  “Yes, it is. I think I’m about done, too,” Dickce said. An’gel noticed Dickce had about half of hers left as well.

  Barbie showed no signs of stopping. An’gel could see that there was little of her cassoulet left, and she seemed determined to finish it. She caught An’gel’s glance and grinned.

  “I’ll burn it off on the tennis court,” she said. Three more bites, and she was done. She refilled her wineglass and drank half of it at one go.

  Barbie was certainly a woman of healthy appetites, An’gel thought. Now that Barbie was full of wine and cassoulet, and hopefully in a somewhat mellow mood, An’gel decided to ask a question.

  “Did you have an affair with Hadley before he left town forty years ago?”

  CHAPTER 30

  Barbie had been about to drink more wine when An’gel posed her question. She set the glass on the table and laughed, nervously, An’gel thought.

  “Gracious, you certainly don’t mess around, An’gel,” Barbie said. “Why on the Lord’s green earth are you asking me such a question?”

  “Because of the bones we found at Ashton Hall,” An’gel said. “Something terrible happened there, and the roots of that and the terrible things that have happened here recently all connect to the past. The common denominator in all this is Hadley Partridge.”

  Barbie stared at her as if dazed. She licked her lips and started to speak. No sound came out. She took a breath and tried again. “Why should me having an affair with Hadley back then—and I’m not saying I did, mind you—why should that have anything to do with the rest?”

  “Because,” An’gel said, pausing deliberately, “someone is evidently so desperate to have Hadley that she’s been willing to kill for him. Forty years ago, and again now.”

  Barbie emitted another nervous laugh. “That’
s crazy. The man is incredibly attractive, even now, and he oozes charm like nobody’s business. But kill in order to have him?” She shook her head. “That’s nuts.”

  “To a sane person, yes,” An’gel said. “But to someone whose reason is warped, whose passion is out of control, it’s not. I have tried to come up with some other explanation for everything that’s happened, and I always come back to this.” She stared hard at Barbie. “Did you have an affair with Hadley back then?”

  Barbie held up her hands. “All right, I give. I’ll tell you the whole pathetic story. I didn’t have an affair with him, but I would have given just about anything to get him into bed with me back then.” Her mouth twisted in a grimace of distaste. “My husband was good for maybe once a week, if you know what I mean. And not all that exciting even then. He cared more about hunting and fishing than he did about having an intimate relationship with me. I was ready for the first really good-looking man who came along. The minute I met Hadley, he was the one I wanted and thought I had to have.” She picked up her glass and drained the rest of the wine. When she set the glass back on the table, her hand shook a little.

  “But Hadley didn’t return your lust, as it were?” An’gel asked, hoping she didn’t sound bitchy. She wasn’t comfortable hearing such details of another woman’s private life, but there wasn’t any way around it, she figured. She’d have to listen in order to get the answers she sought.

  “No, he didn’t.” Barbie stared at the wine bottle and, after a brief hesitation, picked it up and emptied its contents into her glass. “I was devastated at the time. I got over it, though, and found consolation elsewhere.” She sipped at her wine.

  “Did you have any idea at the time why Hadley wasn’t interested?” Dickce shook her head. “You were a beautiful young woman. I’m really surprised he didn’t respond.”

  Barbie laughed, bitterly this time, An’gel thought. “I don’t know. At the time I thought he might be gay. But after he turned me down flat, I caught him in a compromising position with someone else.”

  “Who?” An’gel and Dickce asked in unison.

  “Reba Dalrymple,” Barbie replied. “Go figure. She had about as much sex appeal as a toaster, but I caught them in a major clinch. Neither of them seemed to be in a hurry to let go, either, from what I could see.”

  “Where was this?” An’gel asked. “And when was it, do you remember?”

  “Only too well. It was at that Christmas fund-raiser you and Dickce hosted about six months before Hadley left town. They were in one of the bedrooms upstairs at Riverhill.”

  “Heavens,” An’gel said faintly.

  Dickce snorted. “An’gel won’t ask you, but I will. Were they wearing any clothes?”

  “Yes, fully clothed,” Barbie said. “They weren’t on the bed, mind you, but they might have ended up there. I don’t know. I shut the door and scurried back down the stairs. I decided I would wait and use the powder room downstairs. I’d gone up there, you see, looking for another bathroom and opened the wrong door. Obviously.” She knocked back more wine.

  “If I were you, I’d go track Reba down and have a talk with her,” Barbie said. “And while you’re at it, you might as well go see Lottie.” She shook her head. “My so-called best friend, then and now, was also hot to get Hadley into bed. Her husband was my husband’s hunting and fishing buddy, if you’ll recall, and she was as eager for attention as I was.”

  “Good grief, it’s like Peyton Place,” Dickce said, “except it’s all about one man. Did Lottie have any success with Hadley, do you know?”

  Barbie shrugged. “She would never say, one way or the other. She seemed pretty hung up on him, even after I told her what I’d seen at your Christmas party. I had a hard time believing Hadley was really interested in Reba, frankly. I thought for sure the reason he was resisting my nubile young charms was Callie. I still think she was the one he loved. I saw him and Callie and that maid of hers, the one with the weird name, out and about several times in out-of-the-way places. I guess they took her along to make it look respectable.” She flashed a smile. “This was while I was out hunting for other prey, you understand.”

  “I can’t believe I didn’t know any of this was going on,” An’gel said. “If you had any inkling, Sister, you never said a word to me about it.”

  Dickce frowned. “To be honest, I had picked up a little hint here and there, but I never mentioned it”—she flicked her gaze toward Barbie and back again—“because I knew you hated to hear gossip like that.”

  An’gel understood. Dickce had protected her from hearing these things until An’gel was able to deal with her own feelings toward Hadley. She smiled briefly, and Dickce winked.

  “If you want to get to the truth of the matter,” Barbie said, “Hadley is the only one who can tell you what was really going on.”

  “Yes,” An’gel said. “We plan to talk to him.”

  “What about Sarinda? And Arliss?” Dickce asked, looking directly at Barbie. “They were around at the time. Was either of them involved with Hadley? Or did either of them want to be?”

  Barbie shrugged. “Arliss had just gotten divorced from hubby number one, hadn’t she? I imagine she was on the prowl then as much as she is now.” She paused briefly. “Or I guess I should say, as much as she was before the accident. With Sarinda, well, who really knows? You know what they say about still waters.”

  Dickce nodded. “I keep thinking about the way she jumped up and basically threw herself into Hadley’s arms the last time we saw her. That was such an odd thing to do, even as much as we know she liked attention. I think she must have had feelings for him.”

  “Wouldn’t surprise me,” Barbie said. “We were all circling around him in the old days like he was the last man on earth.” She snorted. “Handsome, rich, and charming. He had it all. Still does, frankly. Why is it that men only get sexier as they age, and we women get treated like we’re ready for the slag heap?”

  “I haven’t been sitting on any slag heaps lately,” An’gel said in a tart tone, “and I don’t imagine you have been either. Most of that’s nothing more than Hollywood bull-hockey, and you know it.”

  Barbie grinned. “That’s one of the reasons I get such a kick out of you, An’gel. You’re one tough broad.”

  An’gel laughed. “If that’s all anyone can think of to put on my tombstone, I guess I wouldn’t mind. I’ve had to be. Most women have to be if they’re going to get anywhere in this world.”

  “Ain’t that the truth.” Barbie downed the rest of her wine. “Well, girls, it’s been, well, not exactly fun, but you know what I mean. I need to get going. Supposed to play tennis later on with Lottie, if she remembers to show up this time.” She rummaged in her purse and came up with a couple of twenty dollar bills. She dropped them on the table and stood. “That should cover my part of the tab. See you later, girls.”

  An’gel and Dickce watched as Barbie headed for the door. An’gel was concerned that Barbie was a little inebriated, but she seemed fine. When the door closed behind her, An’gel turned to her sister.

  “What do you think? Was she telling us the truth about her and Hadley?”

  Dickce shrugged. “I think so, but we can’t really know for sure, can we? She seemed genuine when she told us Hadley wasn’t interested in her.”

  Helen Louise came to the table to clear away their plates. “How was the cassoulet?”

  “Superb, as always when we dine here,” An’gel said. “You are so talented.”

  Helen Louise grinned. “Thank you, Miss An’gel. I’m simply doing what I love. I’m not sure why I ever bothered going to law school first.”

  Dickce smiled. “Because your parents wanted you to have a profession in which you could support yourself. They would be so proud of you now, even though you gave up the law.”

  “I’d like to think so,” Helen Louise said. “Thank you, Miss Di
ckce. Now, let me get all of this out of the way. Did you save any room for dessert?”

  “Not today,” An’gel said. “You have fed us all too well.”

  Dickce nodded. “As much as I’m tempted by the thought of your desserts, I have to agree.”

  Helen Louise, arms loaded with plates and cutlery, said, “I’ll be back in a moment with your check. Thank you, ladies.”

  Five minutes later An’gel led the way out of the bistro to the car. Dickce got behind the wheel and prepared to crank the car. While An’gel was buckling her seat belt, a cell phone chirped.

  “Mine, I think.” Dickce pulled it out of her purse. “Yes, a text message. From Benjy.” She stared at the screen for a moment. “Oh, that sly man.”

  “Who are you talking about?” An’gel asked. “What did Benjy say?”

  Dickce looked up at her sister. “Benjy was trying to track down the H. Wachtel from the telegram to Mrs. Simpson. He couldn’t find anyone who might plausibly be the same person. He got curious about the name Wachtel, however, and dug into it. It’s German, and it means quail or partridge.”

  “That sneaky devil,” An’gel said. “So Hadley sent that telegram?”

  “It seems that way,” Dickce said.

  An’gel thought for a moment. “You saw the telegram, and I didn’t. Was there anything on it that indicated it truly came from London?”

  Dickce looked pensive. “No, not that I can remember. I’d have to look at it again to be sure, though. What are you getting at?”

  “Only that the H could be Hamish and not Hadley,” An’gel said.

  “Why would Hamish have sent a telegram, purporting to be from London, saying that his maid was killed in an accident there? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Not much about this whole situation does,” An’gel replied, her tone grim.

  “If Hadley sent it,” Dickce said, “do you think Coriander Simpson ran away with him and was tragically killed? Was Hadley in love with her?”

  “I don’t know,” An’gel said. “It’s certainly possible. Remember, Barbie told us she had seen the three of them—Hadley, Callie, and Coriander—in public together away from Athena. She thought Coriander was there to provide a screen for Hadley and Callie. But what if Callie was there to provide a screen so Hadley and Coriander could be together?”