Endora purred and rubbed her head against the underside of Dickce’s chin. Dickce took that for the feline equivalent of “yes.” She carried the cat upstairs, puffing slightly by the time she reached the third-floor landing. She paused for a moment to listen. She heard Jackson working in Sondra’s room.
Resisting the temptation to look inside again, Dickce moved down the hallway to the back bedroom opposite Tippy’s room. When she turned on the light, she saw her things on the bed. She deposited the cat on the pillow and admonished Endora to stay there. “I won’t be long, I promise.”
Endora blinked and meowed, then started her routine of turning round and round on the pillow, kneading it into the proper shape before she settled down. Dickce smiled as she pulled the door shut behind her.
In Tippy’s room she found An’gel snoring lightly in the rocker. Tippy still slept soundly. Dickce shook An’gel gently awake, and An’gel leaned forward, yawning. She pushed herself up on the arms of the chair and stretched.
The sisters exchanged whispered “good nights” and An’gel headed for her room on the second floor. Dickce stood watching Tippy for a few moments to satisfy herself that the child was still asleep. Then she moved quietly out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar, and crossed the hall to her room.
She undressed and changed into a nightgown, then made one last visit to the bathroom next door before climbing into bed and turning off the lamp. Endora protested sleepily when Dickce dislodged her in order to pull down the bedspread, then the cat settled once more on the pillow beside Dickce’s.
Dickce turned onto her side facing the door, with the cat behind her. As she spied the open door and heard the cat purring, Dickce realized that there could be a problem if Endora decided to go exploring during the night. She debated briefly taking the cat downstairs to Benjy’s room but then decided Endora would probably stay with her. Anyway, she was too tired to traipse up and down the stairs again tonight. Minutes later, she was asleep.
Dickce heard a cat meowing somewhere close by, and the sound woke her. At first she thought she had dreamed it, but then she turned her head to check on Endora. The cat wasn’t on the bed.
The cat meowed again, and this time Dickce realized the sound came from out in the hall. She groaned as she thrust the covers aside and got out of bed. She hoped Endora wasn’t in Tippy’s room, trying to engage the child in play. The last thing she needed right now was to have to settle Tippy down again.
Dickce stepped into the hall and glanced around. Someone had turned most of the floodlights off, but at least one cast a dim light into the hallway. She started to cross the hall to Tippy’s room when she heard Endora meow again. This time she also heard a scratching sound.
Dickce gazed toward the front of the house and spotted a small dark shape at the closed door of Sondra’s room. Endora was scratching and meowing, wanting entrance. Dickce hurried forward, calling out softly. “Endora, stop that. Bad kitty. Come here to me.”
Endora turned to gaze in Dickce’s direction but evidently was not to be deterred from her occupation of scratching at the door and meowing.
Dickce reached the cat and picked her up at the same instant the door swung open. Startled, Dickce took a step back.
Trey Mims, still dressed in his day clothes, glared furiously at Dickce and Endora. “Go away and leave me alone.” He shut the door hard.
Dickce frowned at the young man’s rudeness and started to turn away. Then she stopped.
What was Trey Mims doing in Sondra’s bedroom in the middle of the night?
CHAPTER 19
When An’gel awoke that morning, she was disoriented for a moment by the unfamiliar surroundings. Then her brain cleared, and she remembered where she was. A glance at her watch on the bedside table informed her that it was a few minutes before seven. She got out of bed and padded over to the window to pull back the curtains from the French doors. The sun was up, and it promised to be a fair day. Not a cloud in the sky from what she could see.
An’gel checked the floor of the gallery and noted that it looked dry enough. She opened the doors and stepped outside. The cool, clear air woke her further, and she moved to the waist-high railing.
She glanced down at the front lawn at the spot where Sondra’s body had lain, and she sighed. The events of the previous day flooded her memory, and all at once she felt the full weight of her eighty-four years. With a heavy heart she closed her eyes and said another prayer for Mireille.
She left the French doors open while she went to shower in the bathroom next door. The hot water eased the ache in her shoulders, and she felt more ready to face the day by the time she finished dressing and putting on her makeup. The cool air coming in off the gallery refreshed her as well. She was ready by seven thirty. As she walked down the stairs, she wondered what news she would hear.
The dining room was empty, and there were no dishes on the sideboard. An’gel wasn’t all that surprised, given the chaos of the day before. She would be perfectly happy to fix her own breakfast if Estelle wasn’t up to it.
In the kitchen she found the housekeeper busy at the stove. The aroma of frying bacon tantalized An’gel’s taste buds, and she smelled biscuits baking in the oven.
“Good morning, Estelle,” An’gel said. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Not a blessed thing,” Estelle said. “I’m perfectly capable of doing my job, thank you. Got off to a late start this morning, but food’ll be ready in about ten minutes.” She scowled at the frying pan.
An’gel decided to let the rudeness pass, at least for now. “Are Jacqueline and Horace back from the hospital, do you know?”
“They’re back.” Estelle flipped several strips of bacon with a spatula. She continued in a tone devoid of emotion. “Got in around two. I expect they won’t be down to breakfast, although Jacqueline has to start making the arrangements for Mireille and Sondra.”
An’gel felt the last words as if Estelle had struck her in the face. She had hoped the housekeeper was completely wrong about Mireille’s death. Now the reality began to set in, and her eyes began to well.
“Excuse me,” she muttered as she turned away and fumbled for the tissue she had tucked in her sleeve.
“Told you last night,” Estelle said. “I could tell you didn’t believe me. Makes no difference, though. I know a lot of things, but nobody ever pays any attention to me.” She chuckled, and then the chuckle turned into a deep-throated laugh.
An’gel turned to look at the housekeeper. She was taken aback by the woman’s evident mirth. What could possibly be so funny? She hoped Estelle wasn’t about to get hysterical, although if she did, An’gel would take pleasure in throwing a glass of water in her face to calm her down.
“What kind of things are you talking about?” An’gel asked in a neutral tone.
Estelle shot her a sly glance. “Just things. Things people don’t think I know. Now that Mireille’s gone, I have to look after myself, because there sure isn’t anybody else going to.”
An’gel wanted to press Estelle further, because the housekeeper’s boastful tone made her uneasy. An’gel thought Estelle’s words sounded like a veiled blackmail threat.
“I’d be careful if I were you.” The words came out more sharply than An’gel intended. “All this talk about ‘knowing things’ could get you into a difficult situation.”
Estelle turned to face her. “I don’t need any advice from you. Why don’t you mind your own business and go to the dining room? Breakfast will be ready soon.”
An’gel decided she’d had enough. If the woman wouldn’t listen to good advice, there was nothing more she could do. She turned and walked out of the kitchen without bothering to reply. At any other time she would discuss the housekeeper’s rudeness with Jacqueline, but An’gel didn’t want to add to her goddaughter’s burdens. She was mighty curious about the things Estelle claimed to know and wondered how the housekeeper planned to make use of her so-called knowledge.