Fixing To Die

“He ought to be here any minute now,” Henry Howard said. “Why don’t y’all go into the parlor, and I’ll see if I can round up Serenity and Truss. Oh, and Mrs. Pace. She’s still here, isn’t she?”

“As far as I know,” Mary Turner said. “I’ll go check her room.”

“I’ll call Benjy,” Dickce said. “Is it okay if he brings Peanut and Endora?”

“Fine with me,” Mary Turner said before she hurried out the door.

“Ditto with me.” Henry Howard smiled and followed his wife.

“Should we go tell Marcelline?” Dickce asked.

An’gel shook her head. “Henry Howard will probably go through the kitchen to get to the annex. He can tell her. Let’s go in the parlor, and you can call Benjy.”

To her surprise, she and Dickce found Primrose Pace already in the parlor, standing at the fireplace and evidently examining the mantel. “Hello, Mrs. Pace. Mary Turner just went upstairs to look for you.”

The medium smiled. “She won’t find me there.” She gestured toward the mantel. “Isn’t this a beautiful piece? I don’t think I’ve seen one like it in any of the other antebellum homes I’ve visited.”

“Yes, it is beautiful,” An’gel said. “Mrs. Pace, Mary Turner is looking for you because Lieutenant Steinberg is on his way here with news of some kind.” She watched carefully to note the medium’s reaction to this announcement.

“Is he now?” Mrs. Pace murmured as she turned her attention back to the mantel. An’gel thought the woman’s back had stiffened slightly before she turned away. Otherwise Mrs. Pace didn’t seem affected by the news at all.

“I texted Mary Turner to let her know Mrs. Pace is here,” Dickce said.

“Good,” An’gel said. “We might as well be comfortable while we wait.” She chose one of the sofas and indicated that Dickce should join her. The one she selected afforded a good view of most of the room.

Benjy walked in with Endora on his shoulder and Peanut on a leash. Peanut immediately came to greet An’gel as if he hadn’t seen her in months, and she gave him the attention he craved. Benjy seated himself between Dickce and An’gel, and Endora immediately climbed down from his shoulder and into Dickce’s lap.

“Any luck?” An’gel asked, keeping her voice low. Mrs. Pace stood only about seven feet away.

“A little. Three articles.” Benjy matched his tone to An’gel’s. “Nothing conclusive. There’s no website, and that surprised me. Must use word of mouth.”

Mrs. Pace turned and stared at them, and An’gel felt uncomfortable. Had the woman heard them and figured out that they were talking about her? An’gel smiled in a friendly manner, and Mrs. Pace turned away again.

“Later,” she whispered to Benjy, who nodded to let her know he had heard.

Marcelline came into the room with Mary Turner. The housekeeper distanced herself from her employer, however, even though Mary Turner tried to get the woman to sit next to her. Marcelline shook her head and chose a nearby chair instead.

An’gel thought it a shame that the two women were on the outs with each other, but she thought Mary Turner was right to stand up for her husband. Marcelline was no doubt hurt, and An’gel hoped she would get over it. She understood the housekeeper’s protectiveness but thought the woman had gone too far. Clementine, her own housekeeper, was protective of her and Dickce but she never spoke to them the way Marcelline had talked to Henry Howard.

Protective. An’gel said the word several times in her mind. Marcelline always watched out for Mary Turner’s best interests. What if Marcelline had decided that getting rid of Nathan Gamble once and for all was in Mary Turner’s best interests? She wanted to discuss the idea with Dickce and Benjy and felt frustrated that she couldn’t do so right away. Depending on what Lieutenant Steinberg had to tell them, however, her new idea could be moot. She wished the man would get to Cliffwood and get it over with.

Henry Howard shepherded Serenity Foster and Truss Wilbanks into the parlor. An’gel was not surprised to note that Serenity’s face bore its evidently habitual scowl. Wilbanks, on the other hand, looked nervous to An’gel. The moment he seated himself on the other sofa, he pulled a handkerchief out of his inner jacket pocket and started mopping his brow. His skin tone was rather gray as well, An’gel decided. What was the man so afraid of?

Serenity Foster chose an armchair several feet away from the one Marcelline occupied. Henry Howard hovered near the parlor door, ready to admit the police when they arrived.

“Mrs. Pace, wouldn’t you like to sit down?” Mary Turner asked. “There’s room here by me, or I can bring another chair closer if you prefer.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Catlin,” the medium said. “I’m happy right where I am.” She had not strayed more than a foot or two from the north side of the fireplace, An’gel noted. Why wouldn’t she sit, though?