Digging Up The Dirt

An’gel replaced the handset and sat for a moment, lost in thought about Elmo Gandy. He had been a widower for the past fifteen years, and after about seven years of widowerhood he began proposing to her and Dickce in turn. Fond as they both were of Elmo, neither sister fancied getting married after decades of happy spinsterhood. Elmo never seemed to take umbrage at the refusals, but he also never seemed to be squelched by them. The proposals came at regular intervals.

“Well, I’ll deal with that when, and if, he proposes again,” An’gel said to the computer screen. She checked the clock and saw that she had about two hours before she needed to dress and head into town for her appointment. Once she was done with Elmo she could drop by the Farrington Hotel and have lunch with Dickce and Benjy if they hadn’t finished by then.

Peanut and Endora dropped by for a visit about an hour later. An’gel stopped what she was doing and gave the animals her complete attention. Though she fussed a bit about Endora and her aloofness, An’gel was actually fond of both animals. Peanut, however, was her favorite, because he was a clever dog and learned everything quickly.

Peanut gazed at her intently while she talked to him. “I hope you listened to what Benjy said about not digging in the flower beds. I really can’t have you making a mess of the yard.” She wagged a finger at the dog, and he barked as if to tell her he understood.

“Good boy.” An’gel patted him on the head before she turned to look at Endora, perched on the arm of a nearby club chair. “As for you, missy, I expect you to behave, too. You’re smart enough when you want to be, so I’d better not catch you digging things up.”

Endora yawned and then began to wash her right front paw. An’gel was not surprised at the cat’s response.

“Okay, you two, y’all go on back to Clementine, and let me finish up.”

Peanut barked and approached the cat. He nudged Endora with his nose, then turned and loped out of the room. The cat rose, stretched, then hopped down and ambled out of the room. An’gel smiled and went back to work.

By the time she was ready to leave for her appointment with the doctor, An’gel had managed to get caught up with e-mail and business matters. She had to tell Peanut and Endora that they couldn’t come with her, and she apologized to Clementine for leaving them in her care. The housekeeper laughed and assured her it was no problem.

“They’re good company when everybody else is out of the house,” Clementine said, her voice husky from decades of smoking. “You don’t be worrying about us. We get along fine.”

Thus reassured, An’gel headed out. Twenty minutes later she pulled the car into a parking space near the building where Dr. Gandy had his office. The building stood on a side street about three blocks from the square, and once An’gel had finished with the doctor, she had only a short trip to the hotel.

The waiting room was empty when An’gel entered. She went straight to the frosted glass window and rapped gently. The receptionist opened the window right away and smiled at her. “You can go right on back, Miss Ducote. The doctor’s ready for you.”

An’gel thanked the young woman and went through a nearby door into a hallway. The doctor’s office lay at the end. She paused at the open door and cleared her throat.

Elmo Gandy turned his chair to face the doorway, and his homely hound-dog face split into a huge grin at the sight of her. He rose and came around the desk to usher her to a chair. “Lovely as ever, An’gel. Now, tell me. What’s bothering you?” He perched on a corner of the desk and straightened his tie.

Though she had rehearsed what she planned to say during the drive into town, An’gel nevertheless hesitated. She had never before asked the doctor to violate the confidence of another patient, even a deceased one, and she wasn’t sure how he was going to react. She took a deep breath. She had to know.

“I’m personally fine, Elmo,” she said. “Except that I’m really upset over Sarinda Hetherington’s death.”

At the mention of his late patient’s name, Dr. Gandy frowned. He got up from the desk and went around to resume his seat behind it. Arms on the desk, he leaned forward and regarded An’gel. “Sarinda’s death came as quite a shock to me, too, I have to say.” He shook his head. “Poor soul.”

“Have the police spoken to you yet about it?” An’gel asked.

Dr. Gandy nodded. “First thing this morning.”

“I was shocked to hear,” An’gel said, “that she had been drinking heavily and fell down the stairs to her death. I had no idea she drank like that.” She watched the doctor to register his reaction to her words.

Dr. Gandy frowned again and leaned back in his chair. He stared at her for a long moment. “Why are you so interested in this?”

An’gel knew she had to be completely honest with him. “I’m worried that there was something odd about Sarinda’s death. I wonder if she really did have a drinking problem.”