Digging Up The Dirt

An’gel shrugged and handed Dickce her whisky. “If he hasn’t changed, then, no, I’d say he isn’t. But we’ll have to see. Surely after forty years he’s matured and grown out of that idle playboy phase.”

“I would certainly hope so.” Dickce sipped at her whisky.

An’gel drained her glass and set it on the tray on the liquor cabinet. “I think I’ll go up and read for a bit before dinner. I need to think about something else for a little while.”

“Good idea.” Dickce knocked back the contents of her glass. “I want to look through the books I bought today and decide which one to read first.” She followed her sister out of the room and up the stairs.

Several hours later, after both had retired for the night, they were awakened by the ringing of the house phone. Dickce glanced with eyes barely open at the luminous dial of her bedside clock. Who was calling them at seven minutes past midnight?

She picked up the handset from the nightstand and hit the answer button. “Hello,” she said, her throat dry. She identified herself. “Who is this?”

“It’s Barbie,” the caller replied.

“Who?” An’gel said from the extension in her bedroom.

“Barbie Gross,” Dickce said. “What is it, Barbie. What’s wrong?”

Dickce heard someone draw a long breath. Then Barbie said, “I just heard the news. Arliss is in intensive care at the hospital. They won’t know if she’s going to make it until morning.”

CHAPTER 19

“Good heavens,” An’gel said, stunned and still half-asleep. “What happened?”

“Car wreck,” Barbie said. “Her car went into a ditch on the highway between where you live and town, evidently. Somebody came along and found her and called 911, thank the Lord.”

“Gracious,” Dickce said. “I wonder what caused her to go off the road?”

Barbie said, “Well, she has been known to drink more than she should and then get behind the wheel. I suspect that’s what happened.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” An’gel said. “Where was she going? Has anybody been able to talk to her?”

“I don’t think so,” Barbie said. “She’s in a coma. I thought y’all should know. She’s going to need all the prayers she can get.”

“Poor Arliss,” Dickce said. “We certainly will pray for her.”

“Thank you for letting us know, Barbie,” An’gel said. “We’ll get over to the hospital first thing in the morning to check on her and see if there’s anything we can do.”

“I’ll see you there,” Barbie replied. “Bye.”

An’gel and Dickce hung up their phones, and An’gel walked out of her room into the hall. Dickce met her there.

“Sister, what on earth is going on?” Dickce said after a yawn. “First Sarinda, and now Arliss. Could they both be accidents?”

“Mighty coincidental if they are,” An’gel said. “Come on, I don’t know about you, but I could use a hot drink. Let’s make hot chocolate.”

Dickce nodded and followed An’gel downstairs to the kitchen. An’gel took charge of making the hot chocolate, and Dickce retrieved mugs from the cabinet. Neither spoke again until they had filled their mugs and were sitting at the kitchen table.

After a couple of sips, An’gel spoke. “Barbie said Arliss was found in a ditch along the highway between here and town. I think she was probably on her way home from Ashton Hall.”

“Or going to Ashton Hall,” Dickce said. “If she had a snootful, it’s the kind of thing she would do. She’s brazen enough when she’s sober, but she gets reckless when she’s had too much to drink.”

“I suppose,” An’gel said. “I think it’s more likely she was on her way home.” She had more hot chocolate. “There’s one way to find out.”

“Call Hadley, you mean?” Dickce asked.

An’gel nodded. “I imagine Barbie has already called him, so he’s probably awake. Shall we?” She gestured toward the kitchen phone.

“Why not?” Dickce asked. “You do it.”

“All right, I will.” An’gel stared at her mug for a moment before she set it aside and went over to the phone. “Do you remember the number?”

“I think so.” Dickce recited it, and An’gel punched it in.

After three rings, a sleepy voice answered.

An’gel put her hand over the mouthpiece. “Not Hadley. A woman. Maybe the housekeeper?” She took her hand away and said, “I’m so sorry to wake you. Is this Ashton Hall?”

“Yes, it is. Who are you, and why are you calling in the middle of the night?” the woman asked, obviously annoyed.

“This is An’gel Ducote. I’m trying to reach Hadley. A mutual friend of ours was badly injured in an accident on the highway near there. I’m trying to get in touch with him to let him know.”

“I see.” An’gel heard the sounds of bedcovers rustling. “Let me see if I can find him for you. Does he have your number?”

“Yes, he should,” An’gel said.

“Okay, then, I’ll go find him and tell him to call you.”

An’gel heard a dial tone. She came back to the table with the handset. “She’s going to look for him and have him call us.”

“I feel bad we woke her up.” Dickce frowned. “Why didn’t Hadley answer, I wonder?”

Nearly ten minutes passed before the phone rang. By then they had both finished their chocolate and Dickce was washing out the mugs and saucepan.