1 Bless Her Dead Little Heart (19 page)

A
n’gel could happily have wrung her sister’s neck at that moment. Dickce had deliberately stirred this up, and it was even worse than An’gel feared. Rosabelle might have a stroke at any second if any of this were true.

“Wade, that’s utterly ridiculous. You’re simply trying to drive Antonio and me apart with this nonsense.” Rosabelle directed a furious glare at her son, but he laughed at her.

“Oh, I think Luca over there has already done that.” Wade lifted his glass and toasted the young man.

Luca grinned. “Grazie.” He mimed a kiss at Antonio.

Rosabelle shrieked at the sight of that gesture, “Is it true, then? He really is your lover?” She clutched at her heart with both hands. “Antonio, you’re having an affair with another man?”

Antonio reached for Rosabelle, but she batted his hands away. “Don’t you dare touch me.”

“Rosabella, cara, it is not how you think,” Antonio said.

An’gel heard the desperation in his voice, but she wondered why he would want to placate Rosabelle at this point. She didn’t believe Rosabelle could ever forgive him for betraying her with a man. A woman she might have forgiven, thinking she could easily win him back. But not with Luca standing there and smirking.

“It is
exactly
how I think.” Rosabelle picked up her wineglass and threw the contents in her husband’s face. There was only a dribble, and Antonio wiped it away with one hand.

Rosabelle’s chest heaved. “I only wish that was acid instead.”

“Miss Ducote, what’s going on here? Do you need assistance?”

An’gel, startled, looked up to see one of the deputies in the doorway. She walked over to him while Rosabelle continued to scream at Antonio.

“A domestic quarrel,” she told the deputy. “I doubt it will get much worse than this, but please stay here in case.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the deputy said. He moved to stand near the head of the table, where no one could fail to see him.

Rosabelle paused mid-tirade and crooked her finger at the deputy. “Officer, I want you to escort this man out of the house immediately. I never want to see his face again.”

“Perhaps that would be best,” Antonio said as he backed away. He turned to An’gel. “My sincere apologies for this most unfortunate incident. It is a poor way to repay you for your generous hospitality.”

An’gel was at a loss to know how to respond to him, given the bizarre nature of the circumstances. She finally settled on a simple “Thank you, Antonio.” She couldn’t state with any honesty that having him as a guest was a pleasure, not with what just happened.

He nodded. “Good-bye to you all.” He stared at Luca for a moment, then jerked his head. “Come.” He stomped out.

Luca turned toward Rosabelle and executed an exaggerated bow. “Farewell, signora. It has been a great pleasure.”

Rosabelle shrieked again. She picked up a dinner roll from her plate and threw it at Luca. The roll struck his broad chest and bounced onto the table. Smiling, Luca picked it up and took a large bite out of it. “Grazie.” He turned and sauntered out, eating the rest of the roll as he went.

An’gel watched him go, thankful that at least part of the drama was at an end. She knew the second act would begin right away, however. She glowered at Dickce and was not surprised to receive a smug smile in response. An’gel hoped Dickce was satisfied with the fireworks she had brought about.

“Well, Mother, think you’ll get your money back now?” Wade laughed. “I told you he was a gigolo, but you wouldn’t listen.”

“I hope you have all enjoyed seeing me be humiliated so publicly.” Rosabelle regarded her family with fire in her eyes. An’gel tensed, nervous over what Rosabelle might do next. She had better not throw anything else, or An’gel would kick her out, no matter what.

“We did,” Wade assured her. “I haven’t been this entertained in years.”

An’gel feared her son’s mocking tone would enrage Rosabelle further. Instead, Rosabelle seemed to ignore him.

“I am going to my room now,” she said. “I do not want to see any of you, so you will please leave me the hell alone tonight.” She walked slowly out of the room.

An’gel wondered uneasily whether she or Dickce ought not to go with her. Then she remembered that the second deputy was upstairs. He could keep an eye on Rosabelle, she decided gratefully.

Should she call Kanesha and let her know that Antonio was no longer in the house? No, the deputy would probably do that. One less thing for An’gel to worry about.

Her appetite was gone, but she could see that Wade’s was unaffected by the contretemps. If anything, she thought, he was eating with even more gusto than before.

Bernice, on the other hand, was obviously distraught. She was crying, and Juanita was patting her hand.

“Now, Mother,” she said, “it’s no use you getting upset like this. Grandmother is, well, always going to be Grandmother. She’s not going to change at her age.”

“I know that,” Bernice said. “Mother has been an embarrassment to me all my life. Fifty-seven years of one humiliating thing after another.” She sobbed for a moment. “Mother has never cared for anyone other than herself. You don’t know how I’ve struggled over the years because of her utter selfishness.”

“I know, Mother.” Juanita shot An’gel an apologetic glance. “Here, have a sip of wine. It will help calm you down.”

“No, I don’t want any.” Bernice pushed the glass away so violently she forced Juanita to spill some of the wine on the tablecloth. “I’m going upstairs to my room.” She shoved back from the table and almost tripped over her chair as she scurried out of the room.

Juanita mopped at the tablecloth with her napkin. “I’m so sorry, Miss Ducote. Mother doesn’t usually get this upset, but I guess tonight was too much for her.”

“I understand,” An’gel said. “Please, there is no need for you to try to clean the stain. Clementine will deal with it first thing in the morning.” She hated to let the stain remain overnight, but she was simply too tired to worry about it. Besides, Clementine was far better at stain removal than she.

“Clementine is a genius with stains.” Juanita stopped trying to blot the wine with her napkin. She stood abruptly. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’d better go up to check on my mother now.” She hurried out.

“I think I’ll be going, too,” Junior said. “See you tomorrow, I guess.”

Wade continued to eat. An’gel marveled again at his appetite. Benjy, she noticed, had eaten little from his plate. He stared at his stepfather and shook his head.

An’gel felt truly sorry for the boy. Wade had made it clear enough that he cared little for Benjy’s welfare. What would become of him, she wondered, when he returned to California? She did not like to think of his being at the mercy of Wade and the rest of Rosabelle’s family. Perhaps she and Dickce could think of a way to help him.

She was ready to start clearing the table. The sooner that was done and things put away in the kitchen, the sooner she could retreat to her bedroom and try to rest. While Wade was still eating, however, it would be rude to begin cleaning up. That was ironic, she thought, worrying about rudeness after all that had happened in the house in the last day or so. Even so, she couldn’t bring herself to interrupt the man.

Dickce apparently had no such compunction. She stood and started gathering plates and stacking them.

“Let me help,” Benjy said.

An’gel started to protest but decided against it. If Wade hadn’t had enough by now, he could fix himself a snack in the kitchen later. There was plenty of food left over. Clementine had actually prepared two roasts, and about two thirds of the second one remained.

“I guess I’m finished.” Wade dropped his napkin by his plate. “Miss An’gel, I have to say that’s one of the finest meals I’ve had in a long time. Your cook is talented woman.”

“Thank you,” An’gel said. “I will be happy to convey your kind words to her.” She nodded in the direction of the sideboard. “As you can see, there is plenty left over. If you get hungry in the night, you’re welcome to help yourself.”

“Thank you,” Wade said. “I might just do that.” He glanced at Benjy. “Be careful with those dishes. You can’t afford to break one.”

For a moment An’gel thought Dickce was going to crawl across the table and slap Wade Thurmond. She had seldom seen her sister so angry. Benjy simply looked resigned, evidently used to such treatment from his stepfather. No wonder the boy referred to him as “the Wart,” An’gel thought indignantly.

Wade seemed to catch on that he had upset Dickce. He mumbled “sorry” and walked out of the room.

“I cannot stand the sight of that poisonous man,” Dickce said. “The minute he’s out of the house, I’m going up there and sterilize everything in his room.”

“Don’t pay him any attention, Miss Dickce,” Benjy said quietly. “That’s the way he is, and nothing will change it. Just like his mother. I’m used to it.”

“You shouldn’t have to be,” Dickce said. “You deserve far better than that.”

“I agree,” An’gel said. An idea had been forming in the back of her mind, and after Wade’s latest display of boorishness, she made a firm decision. That poor boy could not be left to the mercy of Wade and the rest of the family. She had a solution to propose, but she had no idea whether Benjy would find it acceptable.

“Benjy,” she said, “how would you feel about staying here with Dickce and me and going to college in Athena?”

To her great surprise, Dickce and Benjy looked at each other and started laughing.

D
ickce couldn’t help laughing. An’gel’s expression was priceless. Dickce was delighted, however, that An’gel had come to the idea on her own without any prompting.

“What’s so funny?” An’gel asked.

Dickce knew she’d better answer before her sister got really annoyed. “Benjy and I have already been talking about that idea.” She patted the boy’s arm. “He has no family that he knows of, and he isn’t eager to depend on Wade for anything. I don’t think Wade will care one way or the other.”

“He won’t,” Benjy said. “Miss An’gel, I promise I’ll work really hard and do anything you want me to do to help out. I know how to clean and do laundry.”

“Benjy, I’m sure you would work hard,” An’gel said. “I think this is an idea we should all discuss further, but I am in favor of it. Let’s wait until things are calmer around here before we talk any more about it. All right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Benjy said with a big smile. “Thank you.”

Dickce nodded approvingly at her sister. “Why don’t you leave this to Benjy and me? I can see how tired you are, and it won’t take us long to get this all put away. Go on upstairs and get ready for bed.”

An’gel nodded. “I’m too tired to argue. It’s still early, I suppose, but I’ll be happy to get some rest. Thank the Lord that Kanesha’s deputies are on watch tonight. We should have a quiet evening.”

“Have you checked with Kanesha about that other deputy?” Dickce didn’t want to be more specific than that because she didn’t want to alarm Benjy. Surely An’gel would catch on to the fact that she was talking about a deputy to keep an eye on things outside the house.

An’gel looked puzzled for a moment, then her face cleared. “Thanks for reminding me. I haven’t heard, so I’ll call when I get upstairs. I’m sure everything will be fine, though. Good night.”

Dickce and Benjy wished her good night as they continued to clear the table. After three trips to the kitchen, they had removed everything from the dining room except the tablecloth and napkins.

“I’ll go get it,” Benjy said.

“Thanks.” Dickce started putting food away in containers to be stored in the refrigerator. Right after Benjy left, she suddenly heard a scratching noise.

Where was it coming from? She stopped scraping potatoes into a plastic container and listened intently.

There it was again. Coming from the back porch, she decided. What could it be?

She picked up one of the sharp carving knives and walked slowly to the back door. The scratching continued, becoming louder and more frantic.

Then she heard sounds she recognized as those of a frustrated cat trying to get in the door.

Laughing, she unlatched the door and opened it to allow Diesel to enter. He meowed at her and padded past her. He meowed several times more, and Dickce thought he was complaining about how slow she was to answer the door.

“I’m sorry, Diesel.” She walked past him to restore the knife to its place in the rack. “I had forgotten all about you, poor kitty.” Hands now free, she rubbed his head, and he began to purr.

“We have company,” she said when Benjy returned moments later, his arms full of tablecloth and napkins. “You can put those over there for now.”

“Hi, there, boy.” Benjy piled the linens on the table as directed. “I guess Junior didn’t close the door completely.” He glanced at Dickce. “When we left to come over for dinner, I made certain the door was latched so he couldn’t get out. Junior didn’t think about it when he went back, I’m sure.”

“The automatic latch was on the back door, too,” Dickce said. “Clementine always sets it when she leaves for the day. Even Diesel isn’t clever enough to open that.”

“Can I give him a few bites of roast beef?” Benjy asked.

“Sure,” Dickce said. “But only a few.”

The cat munched happily on his tidbits while Dickce and Benjy finished their work in the kitchen. Diesel padded off to the pantry, and Dickce could hear him lapping up water.

When the cat came back, they were done. “Time for bed for all of us,” Dickce said. “Would you like to take something with you in case you get hungry during the night? You didn’t seem to eat much at dinner.”

Benjy shook his head. “No, I’ll be fine. I had enough.”

“All right then. You two had better scoot off to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.” Dickce stood in the back door and watched until they were safely inside the garage apartment. She made sure the automatic lock was still on, then she dimmed the lights and headed up to her room. She nodded at the deputy on duty downstairs and bade him good night. She did the same for the two on duty upstairs as well, one at either end of the hall.

She was happy to reach the tranquility of her room. She was feeling pretty tired now herself, and she did not take long to get ready for bed. She turned off the light, adjusted her covers, and fell asleep not long after.

An’gel took her time undressing and getting ready for bed. She contemplated having a nice warm soak in her tub but decided against it. Too much effort, even for that. Instead she climbed into bed as soon as she had her nightgown on. She turned out her light and got comfortable. Yawning, she closed her eyes.

Then she opened them again. Her body was tired but her brain refused to rest. Overstimulation, she decided. What a day this had been. Dramatic, emotional scenes, another murder, enough tension to float an ocean liner—she hoped never to have such a day again for the rest of her life, however long that might be. Any more days like this, she thought with black humor, and the rest of her life wouldn’t be very long at all.

She was annoyed with herself for not being able to figure out who had killed Marla and Maudine. She was used to solving problems. In fact, she prided herself on her ability to sort out any situation she encountered. Why, then, was this so difficult to resolve?

She had two chief suspects in mind, Rosabelle and Juanita. Whatever illusions she might have had about her old sorority sister before the past day or so, they were shattered beyond repair. She had no trouble believing that Rosabelle, the single most self-absorbed person she had ever met in her long life, could have killed both Marla and Maudine. Yes, she acknowledged, Rosabelle
had
seemed appropriately grief-stricken at the news of Maudine’s death. Rosabelle was a superb actress, however, and the grieving mother was a role she could probably play as easily as breathing.

While she leaned heavily toward Rosabelle as the culprit, An’gel also thought that Juanita could be the killer. Juanita had behaved politely and sweetly, she had to admit, but that was what bothered her. Juanita seemed a little
too
sweet and polite. An’gel suspected that Juanita might be just as good an actress as her grandmother. Juanita had a compelling motive to murder her grandmother and her aunt—money. With Maudine out of the picture, Bernice’s share of their father’s trust doubled. As long as Bernice outlived Rosabelle, Juanita probably stood to inherit a fortune.

If Juanita was the killer, An’gel reckoned, Rosabelle had better watch her back. Even Bernice could be in danger, once Rosabelle was out of the way.

Was Juanita truly that ruthless?

An’gel wasn’t sure, but the girl reminded her in some ways a little too much of Rosabelle at that age. Rosabelle had been able to play the demure self-effacing type when she thought it would get her what she wanted. Was Juanita’s niceness a façade, as her grandmother’s had always been?

Money was a compelling motive for Rosabelle, too. Particularly now that her wealthy Italian husband had been revealed to be an adulterer. Rosabelle could kiss her dreams of living the rich life in Italy good-bye. She might be able to salvage something out of the divorce settlement, but An’gel doubted that Antonio would grant Rosabelle any concessions. The lawyers would have to settle it all.

If Rosabelle was the killer, then Bernice and Wade could be her next targets. Juanita and Junior should be safe. Killing them wouldn’t benefit Rosabelle monetarily.

An’gel groaned. Her head ached from all the speculation. She pushed aside the covers and went into her bathroom. She had a prescription for a mild tranquilizer that would help her get to sleep. She didn’t like taking it because she had a horror of becoming dependent on it, but tonight she felt desperate for sleep.

Back in bed, she made an effort to relax and clear her mind until the pill could take effect. Eventually she began to feel sleepy and finally dozed off.

Sometime later a light rapping at her door roused her. Groggily she glanced at her clock—a few minutes past one. She stumbled a little getting out of bed as the rapping continued. She put on her robe and switched on the light before she opened the door. She blinked at Bernice. “What’s wrong?”

Bernice said, “I’m so sorry to bother you at this time of night, but my blood sugar is low, and I don’t have anything in my room to eat. Would you mind going down to the kitchen with me so I can find something? I’m a little afraid of going down by myself, and you know where everything is.” She smiled weakly.

“Of course,” An’gel said, her hospitable instincts kicking in. She yawned. “Pardon me.” She stepped past Bernice and started down the hall. She shook her head to clear it a little. Ah, that helped.

“Ma’am, is something wrong?”

An’gel stared at the man in uniform. What was he doing here? She started to ask, then she remembered. He was a deputy watching the house.

“Nothing,” she said. “I’m taking my guest downstairs for something to eat. Low blood sugar.”

The deputy nodded and resumed his post. An’gel wandered on, dimly aware that Bernice was shuffling along behind her. Lights on the first floor provided enough illumination that An’gel and her guest could navigate down the stairs and into the kitchen.

An’gel flipped the switch, and then she blinked at the sudden brightness. She headed for the refrigerator. “I’m not sure what you’d prefer,” she said over her shoulder to Bernice. She pulled open the refrigerator door and peered inside. “Maybe it would be better if you just ate some sugar.”

She started to straighten and close the door. She felt a blow to the back of her head and blacked out. Her body slid slowly to the floor.