Digging Up The Dirt

An’gel wished she could go after him and try to get a few private words in the kitchen, but she knew that wouldn’t fly. Instead she glanced around at her fellow guests. Reba appeared to be disgruntled over something, and An’gel suspected it was because she wasn’t the center of Hadley’s attention. Martin had his eyes fixated on his cell phone. Barbie also wasn’t happy, but Lottie seemed to be in her own little world, as she often was.

“Hadley mentioned that there was good news about Arliss,” An’gel said to break the silence. “Did one of you go by the hospital?”

“I did,” Lottie said. “The sister and her husband were there, and I talked to them for a few minutes. I really would have loved to see Arliss, but they wouldn’t let me.” Lottie sighed. “She must feel terribly alone in that hospital room.”

“She’s in a coma,” Reba said. “Has no idea where she is.”

Lottie gazed at Reba for a moment. “You’re right. I guess I forgot about that.” Her gaze moved on from Reba and seemed to focus on the shelves above Reba’s head.

An’gel wondered sometimes whether Lottie’s occasional scatterbrained episodes were real or feigned. She suspected the latter. Lottie had an odd sense of humor, and An’gel wouldn’t put it past her to behave like a ditz simply for the amusement value it afforded her.

“What brought you and Martin here?” An’gel asked Reba. “Were you dying to see the inside of Ashton Hall also?”

Reba cast a withering glance in Lottie’s direction. “I know perfectly well what the inside of this house looks like. I visited Hamish regularly over the years, much more often than anyone else.”

“I suppose you knew his housekeeper then?” An’gel asked.

“Of course. I’ve known Thomasina Turnipseed for years,” Reba said.

Martin giggled suddenly. “Thomasina Turnipseed. Thomasina Turnipseed. What a name.” He went back to staring at his phone.

Reba appeared not to notice her son’s interruption. “Thomasina took excellent care of Hamish over the years. Why are you asking about her, An’gel? Don’t you know her?”

“Not really,” An’gel said. “Years ago Hamish rebuffed our attempts to visit him, and finally Dickce and I stopped trying. I hadn’t seen Mrs. Turnipseed in over thirty years, I suppose, until the other day.”

An’gel felt a sudden tension in the room, and she glanced quickly at each face in turn. She could read nothing in anyone’s expression, however.

“You saw Thomasina?” Reba asked.

An’gel nodded. “Dickce and I wanted to consult her about something. Oddly enough, though, since we talked to her, she seems to have disappeared.” She checked for reactions to that statement, and though she once again felt tension, she couldn’t identify the source.

“Disappeared?” Barbie frowned. “What do you mean, disappeared? Did she run off with some man?”

An’gel shrugged. “All I know is that the police wanted to talk to her about the remains found here, and when they went to her house, she was gone. Nobody seems to know where she is.”

Reba frowned. “She has no family to speak of since her sister died. There’s a nephew, but he’s most likely in prison still. Or again.” Her lips contorted in a grimace. “He’s a terrible man. I don’t think Thomasina had anything to do with him, though.”

“You must know her pretty well, to know all that,” Lottie said.

“Her mother worked for us when I was growing up. Thomasina was younger than I, but I saw her frequently over the years until her mother passed away. And of course when she came here to work for Mrs. Partridge.”

“Who are you all talking about?” Hadley asked from the doorway. He pushed a serving cart in front of him. Barbie hopped up to help him, and he rewarded her with a brief smile.

“Mrs. Turnipseed,” An’gel said.

Hadley frowned. “Why on earth are you talking about her? Dreadful woman. Hamish gave her a lot of Mother’s furniture for some reason, and I’m not happy about that.” He poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Reba. “He could have given her plenty of other things to thank her for all her years of service here. Mother wasn’t that fond of Mrs. Turnipseed, even though she was an exemplary housekeeper.”

“That’s terrible.” Barbie passed coffee to Lottie. “Why would he do such a thing?”

“Because he knew it would make me angry, I expect.” Hadley shrugged. “I was Mother’s favorite, he was our father’s.” He brought An’gel her coffee. For Martin he had a chilled can of soda.

Hadley picked up his own cup and sat on the sofa next to Barbie, who scooted over toward Lottie to make room for him. Lottie frowned.

An’gel had her own ideas about why Mrs. Turnipseed had ended up with the late Mrs. Partridge’s furniture, but she wasn’t about to share them with the group. Especially when she figured one of them was a murderer.