Digging Up The Dirt

“We think Hamish gave it all to her,” An’gel said. “But we’re wondering exactly why he gave it to her.”

“For years of faithful service?” Kanesha said, one eyebrow raised.

“One of the pieces—in fact, the very sofa that An’gel and I sat on during the visit—came from Hamish’s mother’s bedroom,” Dickce replied. “Both Hamish and Hadley were devoted to their mother, and I can’t see Hamish just handing over something of hers, even as a reward for faithful service.”

“Hamish was never known for his generosity,” An’gel said. “We approached him time after time to contribute to different charitable causes, and the most he ever gave at one time was fifty dollars.” She shook her head. “Getting that much out of him was a major triumph, I can tell you.”

“So if I understand where you’re going with this, you think he gave Mrs. Turnipseed all these valuable antiques and furnishings in exchange for her silence?” Kanesha asked.

Dickce and An’gel shared a glance, then they said in unison, “We do.”

“I agree that it could be a possibility,” Kanesha said. “Especially with what you’ve told me about Mr. Partridge’s stinginess and devotion to his late mother. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I also asked Mrs. Turnipseed if she knew anything about the whereabouts of Callie Partridge’s housemaid, Coriander Simpson,” An’gel said. “Her answer to that was extremely nasty and rude.”

A faint smile crossed Kanesha’s lips. “I can certainly imagine. I’ve had experience with Mrs. Turnipseed before.”

“We both think the housemaid might know something useful,” Dickce said. “Do you know anything about her?”

“Only that she’s no longer in the area, as far as we can determine,” Kanesha said. “We haven’t found any family of hers, either, and that’s a bit odd.”

“We’ll check with Clementine,” An’gel said. “If anyone knows anything about her, Clementine will. I meant to ask her this morning but I forgot.”

“If you do get any leads, I know you’ll pass them on to me,” Kanesha said. “In the meantime, I have a little news for you.”

“What?” Dickce said eagerly.

“The police department investigated the ghost that was allegedly roaming around in Miss Hetherington’s house,” Kanesha said. “According to them, there was evidence of an intruder. The lock on the back door was forced, and several rooms were disturbed. They are checking with her lawyer for an inventory of property to determine whether the intruder took anything of value.”

“Sarinda had some jewelry handed down through her family,” An’gel said. “We believe she kept that in a safe deposit box at the bank, though.”

“Do you think it was just someone who heard about her death who broke in to steal?” Dickce asked. “Or was there some other purpose behind it?”

“A little too early to tell, frankly,” Kanesha said. “Until the police and the lawyer check everything and determine whether any valuables are missing, we don’t really know.”

“If it would help,” An’gel said, “Dickce and I would be happy to go through the house with the lawyer. We knew Sarinda for many years and are familiar with much of the contents of her home.”

“I will let the police department know,” Kanesha said.

“Thank you,” Dickce said. “Have you found out anything more about the remains from Ashton Hall?”

“Not yet,” Kanesha said. “We’re consulting with a faculty member from the college who is a physical anthropologist. He has extensive experience with Native American remains and funerary practices. He should be able to tell us pretty soon whether we’re dealing with an old burial or a comparatively recent one.”

“That’s excellent,” Dickce said. “We both hope it turns out to be a really old burial. Neither one of us wants it to be poor Callie.”

“Either way, there will still be a mystery about what happened to her,” An’gel said. “Someone knows the truth, and I frankly think it’s Mrs. Turnipseed.”

“Would you like for us to try talking to her again?” Dickce asked.

“At the moment, no,” Kanesha said. “I will send one of my deputies over to talk to her. He’s a good-ole-boy type, and he may have better luck with her. If he doesn’t get anywhere, I might ask you to try one more time.”

“We’ll be glad to,” An’gel said.

“Thank you, ladies.” Kanesha rose. “I appreciate you coming by. Now, I’m afraid I have to show you out. I’ve got another case to work on.”

The sisters rose. “Of course,” An’gel said. “We understand how busy you are.”

Back in the car, Dickce said, “I think we should put Benjy to work on finding Coriander Simpson.”

“Why so?” An’gel said as she put the car in gear and backed out of the parking space.

“He’s smart about computers, for one thing,” Dickce said. “I bet he will be able to turn up something as fast as the sheriff’s department can. Probably faster.”

“Maybe so,” An’gel said. “I suppose it can’t hurt for him to try.”

“As soon as we get home, I’m going to talk to him about it,” Dickce said.

Twenty minutes later, Dickce was seated at the table in Benjy’s apartment, and the two of them were talking about the search for Coriander Simpson.