Digging Up The Dirt

“Don’t see what that has to do with me,” Mrs. Turnipseed said. “Not my business what they find.” She stood. “Now, if you don’t mind, ladies, I’ve got an appointment I have to get to.”

An’gel was certain the woman knew something, but she obviously wasn’t willing to tell them. The news of the discovery at Ashton Hall had shaken her, An’gel would have bet on it. They couldn’t press the matter now, however. She and Dickce stood and followed their hostess to the front door.

“One more thing.” An’gel paused on the threshold as she remembered that they had one other person to inquire about. “Do you have any idea where we could find the housemaid that was there at the time? Coriander Simpson, I believe her name was.”

“How should I know?” Mrs. Turnipseed scowled. “Not my business to keep up with colored trash.” She slammed the door in An’gel’s face.

An’gel stood there a moment, furious with Mrs. Turnipseed. The woman was lying, she was certain. The housekeeper knew something about Coriander Simpson.

“Come on, Sister,” Dickce said. “She’s not going to talk to us anymore. At least for now.” She headed down the walk toward the car.

An’gel knew Dickce was right, but she found it hard to let go of her anger.

In the car, Dickce said, “What did you think about that furniture?”

“I was completely surprised,” An’gel replied. “It certainly wasn’t anything like what I expected.”

“I know,” Dickce said. “I’d swear that sofa we were sitting on is exactly like the one Hadley’s mother had in her bedroom. I used to covet it because it would have been perfect in my bedroom.”

“I think you’re right,” An’gel said after a moment. “That carpet looked familiar, too.”

“I wonder what the rest of her house looks like,” Dickce said.

“What I’m wondering is, did Hamish give her all those furnishings? Surely she didn’t just take them after he died?”

“I doubt she’d be that brazen, because Hadley would have the law on her in two seconds flat,” Dickce said. “Hamish probably did give them to her. The real question is why.”

“A bribe?” An’gel said. “I think we may be onto something. What does that woman know?” She started the car.

“She’s a tough nut,” Dickce said. “I don’t think she’s going to tell anybody what she knows, not easily anyway.”

“Did you notice her reaction when I told her about the remains that were found?” An’gel said.

“She didn’t seem interested, and that was really odd,” Dickce said. “She kept saying it wasn’t her business. Anybody else would have been more curious about the remains. The fact that she didn’t ask questions or really react to the news convinces me she lied to us.”

“She was nasty when I asked her about Coriander Simpson.” An’gel grimaced. “I could have slapped her right then and there.”

“We could have predicted that,” Dickce said. “We already knew what she was like in that regard.”

“True, but it was still nasty,” An’gel said. “What time is it?”

“A little after one thirty,” Dickce said.

“It’s too early to show up at Barbie’s house for the meeting,” An’gel said. “I don’t feel like driving home and then back again. What shall we do in the meantime to kill ninety minutes?”

“Back to the bookstore,” Dickce replied promptly. “We have to go that way, more or less, and I haven’t been in to spend any time in . . . I don’t know when. I wouldn’t mind a chance to browse and chat with Jordan instead of just running in to pick up a book and running out again.”

“We’ll both end up with a sackful of books by the time we’re ready to leave,” An’gel said.

“And what’s wrong with that?” Dickce grinned. “You know you love looking at books as much as I do.”

An’gel didn’t reply. She put the car in gear, and they headed back to the town square.

They spent over an hour chatting with Jordan Thompson, the owner of the bookstore. Jordan had named it The Athenaeum, a play on the town’s name, but also a nod to the ancient Greek and Roman places of learning. Jordan knew her customers and their tastes well and never failed to recommend books she knew they would enjoy. As An’gel predicted, they each left the store with a large bag of books.

They arrived at Barbie Gross’s house a few minutes before three. Barbie met them at the door and waved them in.

“Come on in, girls, everyone else is here.” She ushered them into the living room.

An’gel noticed that the everyone else didn’t include Hadley Partridge. She wondered whether he’d been invited, but she decided he was probably too busy with the ongoing work at Ashton Hall.

Judging by the other board members’ choice of attire for an afternoon meeting, however, An’gel suspected they thought Hadley would be among them. All four of the other women were dressed as if they were about to head out to dinner with a beau. Arliss, An’gel decided, appeared to be wearing the same dress they had seen her in earlier, coming out of Helen Louise Brady’s place.

After exchanging greetings with Lottie, Arliss, and Reba, An’gel sat next to Dickce in the same seats they’d occupied a few days ago.