Fixing To Die

An’gel started to speak but Mary Turner spoke first, her words directed at Alesha Jackson.

“That was cruel of you to expose her secret like that,” she said. “Although I suppose I understand why you did it. I wish you hadn’t done it, though.”

“I had to prove myself,” Ms. Jackson said, her tone not in the least apologetic. “You need to understand I am who I say I am, and that I can do what I told you I could. I didn’t come here under false pretenses. I used my professional name like I always do in these situations. I keep my personal and my professional lives separate that way.”

“Then why did you try to run away?” An’gel asked. “If you weren’t here under false pretenses, there was no need to escape, surely?”

“A lapse in judgment,” the psychic said with a shrug. “I have a fair amount of experience with the police, and I didn’t want any further involvement in this situation.”

The woman could still be lying. An’gel was convinced there was something else she was hiding, but what was it?

“I’m hungry,” Ms. Jackson said. “If you have no objection, I’d like to eat.” She pointed to the uneaten meat and bread on the table.

“Help yourself,” Mary Turner said. “I’ll find you a clean plate after I check on Marcelline.” She left the room.

Alesha Jackson shrugged and seated herself. She pulled the two platters close to her and began to eat directly from them. She ate neatly and efficiently as An’gel watched.

Dickce nudged her, then whispered close to her ear, “Are we going to sit here and watch her eat? Or are we going to do something productive?”

An’gel frowned. She wanted to question the psychic but had been trying to decide whether the time was right. Would the woman even talk to her?

An’gel whispered back to her sister. “I want to get her to talk to me. I want to ask her some questions.”

After a moment Dickce responded. “Then tell her you want to hire her when all this is over.”

“Hire her?” An’gel asked, incredulous. “Whatever for?”

“To deal with the spirit at Riverhill,” Dickce said. “What else?”

An’gel started to argue but then stopped herself. Dickce’s idea was actually a good one. Telling the woman she had a job for her gave her an excellent pretext for asking some pointed questions. “Good idea.”

“Mrs. Jackson,” An’gel said.

“Not Mrs., Ms.,” the woman responded.

“Ms. Jackson, then,” An’gel said. “Perhaps sometime later today you and I could talk. My sister and I may be interested in hiring you to help us with a problem back home. We live in an old house, too, you see.”

Alesha Jackson put down the piece of roast she had been about to eat and regarded An’gel, her expression blank. After a few seconds, she spoke. “If you’re serious, I will be happy to speak with you. I’d like some time to rest and refresh myself, however.”

“Of course,” An’gel replied. “How about four this afternoon, in the parlor?”

The psychic nodded. “That’s fine.”

An’gel rose. “Thank you. Dickce, Benjy, I think we ought to leave Ms. Jackson to finish her meal in peace. No, Peanut, you’re not going to get any more bites of chicken, or you either, Endora.”

Peanut whined and thumped his tail against the floor. “Come on, boy,” Benjy said firmly. “I’ll give you both some treats in our room, okay?”

Peanut woofed at that, and Endora perked up too. She climbed on Benjy’s shoulder and nuzzled his left ear.

“They deserve their treats,” Dickce said. “They’ve been really good, not making a fuss.”

“Probably because you and Benjy kept slipping them food under the table,” An’gel said. “You might have thought I didn’t see you, but I did.”

Mary Turner returned with a plate and napkin in hand. She stopped short when she saw Alesha Jackson already eating. She approached the table and set down the plate and napkin. “I’ll be back to clear up when you’re done. I guess you’ll be going up to your room for a while afterwards.”

The psychic nodded. “Yes, I will. I must rest before my appointment with Miss Ducote to discuss a job.”

Mary Turner looked at An’gel, obviously shocked. “Miss An’gel, is she serious? Are you serious?”

“Yes, my dear, I am,” An’gel said. “Dickce and I decided to consult with Ms. Jackson about a matter concerning a possible spirit at Riverhill.”

“Oh, I see,” Mary Turner said. An’gel could tell by her tone, however, that she was only being polite. “I’ll finish clearing the table when you’re done, Mrs. Pace.”

“Call me either Primrose or Alesha.” The medium smiled. “I answer to either. I’ve had enough to eat, thank you. Would you like me to help you finish clearing?”

Mary Turner shrugged. “Sure. Extra hands are always welcome.”

“Then I guess we will leave you to it,” An’gel said. “Come along, Dickce, Benjy.” She gave the other two women a smile before she headed for the door.

In the hallway, Benjy spoke before she started to mount the stairs. “Miss An’gel, if you don’t mind, I’ll take Peanut and Endora to our room and let them have a t-r-e-a-t. I want to get my laptop anyway so I can do a little more research.”

Peanut woofed, despite Benjy spelling the word treat.