Dead with the Wind Page 14

“Yes,” her goddaughter whispered. “I had Rich Thurston draw it up a couple of years ago, when Tippy turned two.”

  “What are the terms?” Dickce asked. “We hate to pry, but we need to know.”

  “Terence left me a lot of money,” Jacqueline said, apparently ignoring Dickce’s question. “He didn’t expect to die so young, and part of me never got over his death.” She drew in a shaky breath. “I didn’t realize how wealthy he was until he died. He left most of it to Sondra, of course, but he made sure I was well provided for.”

  An’gel wanted to ask how much Terence had left her. She had never heard an amount mentioned in connection with Jacqueline’s portion, but it had no doubt been substantial. With Sondra’s share now hers, Jacqueline was a wealthy woman indeed.

  “Your will?” Dickce prompted Jacqueline again.

  This time she answered. “It’s split into thirds. One third to Horace, another to Sondra, and the last one to Tippy.” She shuddered. “Tippy would get Sondra’s third if she died before Tippy and me. Horace’s third is his to dispose of however he wants.”

  An’gel felt the cold creep over her skin. She stared over Jacqueline’s bowed head at Dickce. She knew they shared the same thought.

  Was Tippy now in danger from the killer?

  Upstairs, Benjy shifted from his cramped position on the floor of Tippy’s bedroom and tried to ease the strain in his back. He couldn’t remember ever having a make-believe tea party with a little girl, but Tippy was enjoying it so much he couldn’t begrudge her.

  He marveled at how patient both Peanut and Endora were being with the little girl. Peanut looked funny with the bows on his ears, and Endora kept losing her hat, but they didn’t shy away from the small hands that wanted to dress them. He was sure they sensed the child meant them no harm and went along with the play. The teddy bear, whose name Benjy finally realized was Lance, rather than Wance, watched over all the activities with a benignly vacant gaze and bedraggled smile.

  Tippy chattered to the animals and occasionally to Benjy, and Benjy, realizing that she didn’t require a response, let his mind drift. He felt sorry for the kid. He knew what it was like to lose a mother, and he had to make an effort not to let grief overwhelm him. He didn’t want to have to explain to Tippy why he was so sad.

  Then Benjy wondered whether anyone had told her about the deaths of her mother and great-grandmother. He wished he’d thought to ask before he started babysitting. The last thing he wanted to do was upset the kid by saying something out of turn.

  Tippy chattered on, telling Peanut how much he would like the cake she had made and then insisting to Endora that she have another sip of tea. He smiled, and Tippy glanced at him and giggled.

  “Peanut and Endora sure are enjoying their tea party,” Benjy said. “Thank you again for inviting us.”

  “I wuv tea pawties,” Tippy said. She ducked her head and began cutting invisible slices of cake to dole out to the animals for a third or fourth helping.

  Benjy thought the lisp was pretty cute, though it brought back uncomfortable memories. He’d had one when he was her age and hoped she would grow out of it sooner than he had. He remembered the teasing in kindergarten and first grade because he had trouble with l and r sounds.

  He heard the word mommy suddenly and focused on what Tippy was saying.

  “Mommy doesn’t wike the bad man,” she told Peanut solemnly. “He doesn’t wike her either and yewws at her.”

  “When did you hear the bad man yelling at your mommy, Tippy?” Benjy knew he had to tread carefully. He thought this could be important, but he didn’t want to upset Tippy.

  “A wot of times,” Tippy said. She poked a spoon at the teddy bear. “Wance, have some cweam.”

  “Did you hear him last night?” Benjy said.

  Tippy squinted, her head slightly to one side. “I think so. I was asweep, and dey woke me up. And den dere was a wot of noise. It was scawy, all the wightning and thunder.” She stared solemnly at Benjy. “Wance and I hid under de covers until we feww asweep.”

  “I like to hide under the covers when there’s a bad storm,” Benjy told the child mendaciously.

  Tippy nodded and went back to feeding the bear invisible cream. He scratched Peanut’s ears as he thought about what Tippy had told him. If the child was right, and a man had been yelling at Sondra about the time the storm hit, could that man have something to do with Sondra’s death? He knew Miss An’gel and Miss Dickce were concerned that Sondra’s death was not the result of a freak accident.

  Those thoughts disturbed him, but another, more disturbing one came quickly. What would happen if the man knew Tippy had heard the argument?

  CHAPTER 22

  An’gel didn’t want to alarm Jacqueline any further by voicing her concern over Tippy’s welfare. Perhaps they could keep watch over the little one without letting on to Jacqueline they thought Tippy could be in danger. She, Dickce, and Benjy would take turns with the child until Sondra’s murderer was identified.

  There was another subject she wanted to broach with her goddaughter, however, that could be almost as unsettling. An’gel felt she had little choice with this one.

  In a gentle tone she asked, “Is Horace having any financial problems?”

  Jacqueline closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Eyes open again, she looked at An’gel. “Yes, he is. He says it’s only a temporary cash-flow situation. Nothing really serious. He’s been through this before.”

  “Do you think he’s telling you the truth?” Dickce asked, and An’gel wished her sister hadn’t been quite so blunt.

  “Horace hasn’t ever lied to me,” Jacqueline said. “I have no reason to doubt him.”

  An’gel thought her goddaughter’s statements lacked assurance. She hoped for Jacqueline’s sake Horace was as truthful as she claimed. If he was not, and the financial issue was truly serious, An’gel wondered to what lengths Horace would go to gain the money he needed. Would he kill two women to ensure that his wife inherited everything? A wife he could no doubt persuade to invest her considerable wealth in his business ventures?

  An’gel wondered about that. She had never really felt she knew Horace beyond a superficial level. On past visits she and Dickce spent their time with Mireille and Jacqueline, seeing Horace mostly at meals. He was always on the go, attending to business, and on some visits they didn’t see him at all. On their last visit to Willowbank, almost five years ago, Horace had been out of the country the entire time.

  Moreover, An’gel realized, Jacqueline’s letters—and later on, her e-mails—mentioned Horace and his activities only infrequently at best. She had nothing more than Jacqueline’s assurance that Horace was truthful. Mireille had always been reticent on the subject of her second son-in-law. An’gel didn’t think Mireille considered him a bad choice on Jacqueline’s part, but Mireille had adored Terence. An’gel thought her cousin had had only lukewarm feelings for Horace.

  For An’gel, Jacqueline’s confidence in her husband wasn’t enough. How could she question Horace discreetly? She would have to come up with a plan to introduce the subject of finances and business and hope that Horace would reveal himself in some way.

  “Do you expect me to believe my husband is the one who cut the brake line on Sondra’s car?” Jacqueline demanded in a fretful tone. “That’s utterly ridiculous.”

  “We have to consider every possibility,” An’gel said. “Look at it this way. Can you think of any other reason, besides money, that would lead someone to murder Sondra?”

  “Not when you put it like that, I guess not,” Jacqueline said a bit more calmly. “Sondra annoyed many people because she was so self-centered, but that’s no reason to kill anyone.”

  “You told us earlier,” Dickce said, “that Mireille had planned to drive into town with Sondra, but she changed her mind and didn’t go. Who all knew that Mireille was going to be in the car with Son
dra?”

  “Well, Estelle and Jackson knew, of course.” Jacqueline frowned. “I knew, and I’m sure Horace did, too. Trey probably did as well.”

  “Anyone else?” An’gel asked. “What about your lawyer, Mr. Thurston?”

  Jacqueline thought about that for a moment. “He probably knew, I think. Maman had planned to stop by his office while she was in town, but then she ended up calling to cancel the appointment when she had to stay home.” She regarded An’gel intently. “Do you think Rich drove out here and cut the brake lines on Sondra’s car without anyone seeing him?”

  An’gel grimaced. “I know it sounds odd, dear, but we have to take everyone—and everything—into account. He doesn’t seem the type to go creeping through the underbrush and the trees, but you never can tell.”

  “Sounds pretty ridiculous to me,” Jacqueline said. “I’ve known Rich Thurston all my life, and you never met a more fastidious man.” She sniffed. “Can’t stand to get his hands dirty on anything, and if he knows even how to find a brake line in a car, I’d be surprised.”

  An’gel heard the conviction in her goddaughter’s voice. She wondered whether Jacqueline would understand the implications of what she just told them. If Thurston didn’t cut the brake lines—motive to be determined—that left Horace sitting in the seat of chief suspect, at least as far as An’gel was concerned.

  “What about Trey?” Dickce asked. She looked oddly at An’gel. “Does he have money of his own? I suppose he works for Horace.”

  “He does,” Jacqueline said. “He manages one of Horace’s dealerships in a nearby parish. I know Horace pays him well, and Trey isn’t extravagant.” She paused. “He can be pretty hotheaded at times, but he has nothing to gain from these deaths.”

  An’gel reserved judgment on that. If Horace gained by them, then ultimately his son and only child would as well. She asked, “Do you know the terms of Horace’s will? Does he leave everything to Trey?”

  “Yes, he does,” Jacqueline replied. “Horace knows that I’m already provided for.”

  “I believe you said that if Horace inherited his third of your estate,” Dickce said, “he can dispose of it however he likes.”

  “Yes.” Jacqueline nodded. “It would ultimately go to Trey.”

  Dickce glanced again at An’gel. “I saw Trey last night. Or rather, in the morning.” She explained that Endora had been in her bedroom with her and how she heard the cat meowing and scratching somewhere. “When I picked her up, Sondra’s door opened, and there stood Trey. He looked mighty upset.”

  “What was he doing in Sondra’s room at such a time?” An’gel asked. “That seems odd to me.”

  Jacqueline sighed heavily. “He was head over heels in love with Sondra, but she wasn’t interested, despite everything. He was angry with her over her decision to marry Lance. I guess he might have wanted to spend some time with her things. He’s devastated by her death, I know.” Her face crumpled, and a few tears trickled down her cheeks.

  An’gel didn’t want to distress her goddaughter further, but two words Jacqueline had said caught her attention. “You said Sondra wasn’t interested in Trey, despite everything. What did you mean by that?”

  Jacqueline rubbed her tears away with one hand. “I guess I might as well tell you. He’s Tippy’s father.” She stood abruptly. “All this is giving me a bad headache. I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go upstairs and lie down for a little while. I have to go back into town soon to take care of some things.”

  “Of course, dear,” An’gel said vaguely, trying to grasp the truth of the bombshell Jacqueline had handed them. “You need to rest. Dickce, Benjy, and I will take care of Tippy for you.”

  “Thank you.” Jacqueline gave them a brief smile before she strode out of the room.

  “Well,” Dickce said. “I didn’t see that coming.”

  “I didn’t either,” An’gel replied. “But I can’t say I’m completely surprised.” She shook her head. “I can’t imagine what Jacqueline and Horace were thinking, to allow such a thing to happen.”

  “Poor Mireille was horrified, I imagine.” Dickce made a moue of distaste. “I know they’re stepsiblings, but still.”

  “I imagine Mireille had a few choice words to say on the subject.” An’gel shook her head. “I still can’t believe she’s gone, and so suddenly. This whole mess is truly heart-rending.”

  “Yes, it is,” Dickce said. They sat quietly for a moment, until the sound of the doorbell interrupted their thoughts.

  An’gel waited, expecting to hear the footsteps of either Jackson or Estelle as they went to answer the door. There was only silence, and the bell rang again.

  “I’ll go.” Dickce rose and headed out of the room.

  She returned moments later, preceded by the policeman Bugg and trailed by his junior officer, Sanford.

  “Mornin’, ma’am.” Bugg nodded at An’gel. “I don’t reckon either Mister or Miz Mims is around anywhere, are they? I got something I need to tell ’em.”

  “I’m sorry, Officer.” An’gel rose to address the man. “I believe Horace is at work, and Jacqueline has just this minute gone upstairs to get some rest. She’s completely exhausted, and I don’t want to disturb her unless it’s of vital importance.”

  Bugg didn’t appear happy at An’gel’s news. “That’s sure unfortunate, ma’am, ’cause I really need to talk to one of ’em.”

  “My sister and I are cousins of Mrs. Champlain’s,” An’gel said. “I am also Jacqueline’s godmother. Can’t you tell us what it is? I’d rather not have Jacqueline hit with any more bad news at the moment. And that reminds me, we have something to tell you as well.”

  Bugg nodded. “Yes’m, I got the message that Miz Mims needed to talk to me. How’s about you tell me what you got to say, and then I’ll do the same?”

  “Very well,” An’gel said. “Won’t you both sit down first?” She waved a hand to indicate a couple of nearby chairs. Bugg nodded and motioned for Sanford to take a seat as soon as An’gel and Dickce took their places on the sofa.

  “Now, ma’am, what is it you got to tell me?” Bugg asked after he sat and squirmed gingerly in the antique armchair to find a comfortable position.

  Despite the seriousness of the situation, An’gel had to suppress a smile at Bugg’s actions. He was clearly not comfortable in that chair and probably afraid that he might damage it.

  “Sondra had an accident with her car yesterday morning,” An’gel said. “She was coming down the driveway a bit too fast when her brakes gave out, and she ended up crashing her car into one of the live oaks. Luckily she wasn’t hurt and was able to walk away from it.”

  Bugg nodded. “She sure did like to drive fast. Surprised she didn’t have no more accidents than she did. Anything special about this one?”

  “Yes,” An’gel said. “It was a brand-new car. Evidently she had only brought it home the day before. We all thought it was strange that the brakes on a new car were faulty so quickly.”

  “It turned out, however,” Dickce said, “the brake line was deliberately cut. Jacqueline had the car towed to the dealership, and the mechanic called her a little while ago to give her a report.”

  Sanford emitted a low whistle, but Bugg appeared not to have heard it. He frowned. “Somebody had it in for her, then.”

  “That’s not all, Officer,” An’gel said. “My cousin was supposed to be in the car with her. At the last minute, though, she ended up staying home.”

  Bugg’s eyes narrowed. “I aim to do my best to figger out who was responsible for that. You can count on it.”

  “Thank you,” Dickce said. “We will.”

  “Now, what about the news you have for Jacqueline and Horace?” An’gel asked. “Please tell us.”

  “All right,” Bugg said. He leaned forward in the chair, hands on his knees. “The parish coroner, Dr. Kovacs—you saw her la
st night, ma’am.”

  An’gel nodded.

  “Well, she ain’t real satisfied with what she saw when she examined the body.” Bugg paused for a moment, then said in a dramatic tone, “We’re going to be treating this as a suspicious death, not no accident.”

  CHAPTER 23

  If Officer Bugg was expecting reactions of outrage or horror, he was definitely disappointed. An’gel merely looked at him and nodded, as did Dickce.

  “Y’all don’t look like you’re surprised.” Bugg stared hard at each sister in turn.

  “My sister and I thought the freak accident was a little too bizarre to be real. Now you tell us the coroner has found some kind of evidence that makes her suspicious of it, too.” An’gel frowned. “Frankly, Officer, we were expecting news like this.”

  Bugg didn’t seem to know what to make of that, An’gel thought. He probably thinks we’re dim-witted old biddies who don’t have the brains the good Lord gave a goose. An’gel had to suppress a chuckle at that thought.

  The officer cleared his throat and glanced at his subordinate. Sanford responded by pulling a notebook and pen out of his pocket. He flipped to a blank page, clicked his pen, and looked expectantly at Bugg.

  “Seein’ as y’all are here and available,” Bugg said, “I reckon I need to ask y’all some questions.”

  “Certainly, Officer,” Dickce said, and An’gel nodded. “We’re always happy to help fine lawmen like yourselves.” Dickce batted her eyelashes at Bugg, and An’gel was amused to note that the man’s cheeks reddened. Really, Dickce was incorrigible.

  “Well, um, yes, ma’am,” Bugg said. “Now let me see here, maybe you can tell me whether you noticed anything suspicious while you been here.”

  “The main suspicious thing we saw we’ve already mentioned,” An’gel said. At Bugg’s questioning look, she continued, “I’m talking about the accident with Sondra’s car. The cut brake lines. I think if you can discover who was responsible for that, you’ll find your killer.”