Digging Up The Dirt

Dickce smiled. “Because your parents wanted you to have a profession in which you could support yourself. They would be so proud of you now, even though you gave up the law.”

“I’d like to think so,” Helen Louise said. “Thank you, Miss Dickce. Now, let me get all of this out of the way. Did you save any room for dessert?”

“Not today,” An’gel said. “You have fed us all too well.”

Dickce nodded. “As much as I’m tempted by the thought of your desserts, I have to agree.”

Helen Louise, arms loaded with plates and cutlery, said, “I’ll be back in a moment with your check. Thank you, ladies.”

Five minutes later An’gel led the way out of the bistro to the car. Dickce got behind the wheel and prepared to crank the car. While An’gel was buckling her seat belt, a cell phone chirped.

“Mine, I think.” Dickce pulled it out of her purse. “Yes, a text message. From Benjy.” She stared at the screen for a moment. “Oh, that sly man.”

“Who are you talking about?” An’gel asked. “What did Benjy say?”

Dickce looked up at her sister. “Benjy was trying to track down the H. Wachtel from the telegram to Mrs. Simpson. He couldn’t find anyone who might plausibly be the same person. He got curious about the name Wachtel, however, and dug into it. It’s German, and it means quail or partridge.”

“That sneaky devil,” An’gel said. “So Hadley sent that telegram?”

“It seems that way,” Dickce said.

An’gel thought for a moment. “You saw the telegram, and I didn’t. Was there anything on it that indicated it truly came from London?”

Dickce looked pensive. “No, not that I can remember. I’d have to look at it again to be sure, though. What are you getting at?”

“Only that the H could be Hamish and not Hadley,” An’gel said.

“Why would Hamish have sent a telegram, purporting to be from London, saying that his maid was killed in an accident there? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Not much about this whole situation does,” An’gel replied, her tone grim.

“If Hadley sent it,” Dickce said, “do you think Coriander Simpson ran away with him and was tragically killed? Was Hadley in love with her?”

“I don’t know,” An’gel said. “It’s certainly possible. Remember, Barbie told us she had seen the three of them—Hadley, Callie, and Coriander—in public together away from Athena. She thought Coriander was there to provide a screen for Hadley and Callie. But what if Callie was there to provide a screen so Hadley and Coriander could be together?”

CHAPTER 31

An’gel waited for Dickce’s response. The idea made sense to her, but she wanted to know what her sister thought.

“I suppose that’s a possibility,” Dickce said. “If Hadley was truly in love with Coriander, they couldn’t have been open about it without causing quite a stink forty years ago. You know what people in this town are like, even now when we see interracial couples more often.”

“And what Hamish was like,” An’gel said. “He might have had a stroke on the spot if he’d ever found out about them.”

“Would have served him right.” Dickce sniffed. “But, look here, if Coriander went to England with Hadley and was tragically killed there, and Callie was lying in the ground at Ashton Hall all this time, why the heck is someone trying to knock off the members of the garden club board forty years later?”

“My guess is frustrated passion,” An’gel said. “One of those women must have been so fixated on Hadley all these years that, now he’s come back, she’s trying to make sure she has no competition. I know that might sound crazy but, frankly, I think one of them is crazy as a betsy bug.”

“Warped by unrequited love.” Dickce shrugged. “I suppose it happens. If that’s the case, though, whoever the deranged one is, she’s done a great job of hiding it all these years.”

An’gel nodded. “Yes. I’m betting on either Lottie or Reba. I don’t think it’s Barbie.”

“Maybe,” Dickce said. “I’m still not so sure you’re right about the motive. Maybe it’s something else entirely.”

“I don’t think so,” An’gel said. Why was Dickce so hesitant to agree with her? She hadn’t come up with any other reasonable motive. “We won’t get anywhere, however, if we don’t talk to Hadley and force him somehow to come clean. Only he can tell us who he was really in love with.”

“Ashton Hall then?” Dickce asked as she put the car in reverse.

“Ashton Hall,” An’gel said and settled back for the ride.

Fifteen minutes later Dickce pulled up in front of the Partridge ancestral home. An’gel saw workmen clearing away the downed tree, while others worked on clearing underbrush from outlying flower beds and the edge of the woods that separated Ashton Hall from Riverhill.

“Things are definitely looking better, don’t you think?” Dickce asked.

“Yes, but there’s still a long way to go if Hadley’s going to have everything ready for the spring garden tour.” An’gel stepped out of the car and shut the door. She waited for Dickce to join her before they proceeded up the walk to the front door.