Fixing To Die

“And if she’s not, we’ll find that out and get her out of the house,” Dickce said.

“I wonder, however, whether she actually knows anything about what’s been going on here,” An’gel said. “She seemed quite sure of herself.”

Henry Howard shrugged. “Everyone who knows anything about Natchez thinks all the antebellum houses here are riddled with ghosts. Lord knows Natchez has been on those ghost-hunting programs on TV enough in recent years. They’ve never come sniffing around here, though, thank goodness.”

“An’gel and I could make some discreet inquiries,” Dickce said. “We know a few people here in town besides you and Mary Turner. We could find out whether she’s approached anyone else like this.”

“Excellent idea,” An’gel said.

“Guess so.” Henry Howard picked up his fork and moved a few peas around his plate.

“Who else have y’all told about what’s going on here?” An’gel asked.

“My friend Buzz for one,” Henry Howard replied. “I’ve known him since we were in first grade together. He’s my best friend. I don’t think he’d tell anyone because he knows Mary Turner and I don’t want this to get around.”

“Anyone else?” Dickce said. “What about Marcelline? She must be aware of the situation. Might she have let something slip?”

“Marcelline? No way.” Henry Howard shook his head. “She’s too loyal to Mary Turner. She’d never go around talking about our business to anyone.”

“I’m sure Marcelline wouldn’t say a word, if Mary Turner asked her not to,” An’gel said. “You mentioned your friend. What about Mary Turner? Does she have a best friend she confides in?”

“Amy Patridge, but she’s in England visiting her husband’s family. They’ve been gone over a month and aren’t due back for at least three weeks or so.” Henry Howard laid his fork aside and leaned back in his chair. “I can’t think of anyone else at the moment. You ladies—and Benjy here—are the only people who know anything, as far as I’m aware.”

“And we haven’t heard the details,” Dickce reminded him.

“No, I guess not,” Henry Howard said. “I’d rather wait for my wife, though, before we get into all that.”

Mary Turner stood in the doorway. “Honey, would you get Mrs. Pace’s luggage and take it up to the green bedroom? She’d like to get settled in.”

Henry Howard pushed up from his chair, and Dickce could tell he was not happy about something. He turned to face his wife. “The green bedroom? Why are you putting her in there instead of out in the annex?”

Mary Turner looked uncomfortable, Dickce decided. The young woman’s words confirmed that.

“She needs to be in the house in order to tune in to the vibrations, or whatever they are,” Mary Turner said. “If she really can help us, then I figured she might as well be on the spot instead of in another building.”

“Whatever.” Henry Howard walked past her and disappeared into the hallway.

After staring at her retreating husband’s back for a moment, Mary Turner approached the table and offered her guests an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry our lunch got interrupted like this. Have y’all finished? Are you ready for dessert?”

Dickce glanced at An’gel and Benjy, and they nodded. “I’m ready for dessert,” Dickce said. “I’ve been hankering after carrot cake ever since you first mentioned it.” An’gel and Benjy voiced their approval.

“I’ll ask Marcelline to bring it in, then.” Mary Turner headed back to the door. “I’ll start clearing away in a moment.”

Once Dickce thought Mary Turner was safely out of earshot, she said in a low tone, “I don’t like seeing Mary Turner and Henry Howard at odds over this. I wonder why he’s so reluctant to have that woman in the house.”

Benjy broke his extended silence. “Mary Turner told me when we took Peanut and Endora to the kitchen before lunch that this is about the only part of the year that they actually get any time to themselves. Usually, that is. They don’t take guests the first three weeks of November so they can have a rest.”

“And it’s bad enough that we’re here,” An’gel said, “even though we’re here to help. Then a stranger shows up and puts herself into the middle of it.”

“I would be unhappy myself,” Dickce said. “Running a bed-and-breakfast, especially in an old house, must be awfully hard work.”

“They do have some help,” Benjy said. “There’s the housekeeper, Marcelline. She’s really nice and loves animals. They also have a couple of ladies who come in three times a week to help clean when they’re open for guests.”

“That’s good,” An’gel said. “But back to the subject of Mrs. Pace. I really want to know what brought her here. I’m not sure I believe that she received some kind of psychic message that her services were needed.”

“We’ll work on that,” Dickce said.

Mary Turner reentered the dining room in the company of Marcelline. Dickce and An’gel remembered her from previous visits and greeted her with compliments on the delicious lunch. The housekeeper smiled in acknowledgment of their praise.