Fixing To Die

Dickce watched Peanut carefully. The dog behaved normally until he and An’gel neared the bathroom between her bedroom and the French room. Suddenly he stopped and stared at the bathroom door. He emitted a low growl, then barked sharply, three times.

CHAPTER 16

An’gel awoke refreshed and relaxed the next morning. Not what she would have predicted after the strange and somewhat unsettling events of the day before. She had lain awake for nearly an hour when she first went to bed, tense, waiting for another weird thing to happen. Perhaps a repetition of the moving of her clothing from yesterday during her short tenure in the French room. She was actually relieved that Nathan Gamble had made a fuss over staying in the room. As night had drawn closer, An’gel had felt uneasy enough over sleeping in the room she was now in.

As the minutes had passed and nothing had occurred to disturb her, however, she had gradually relaxed enough to fall asleep. She had slept untroubled by either dreams or ghostly visitations.

She pushed aside the covers and sat up on the side of the bed. After a couple of yawns, she picked up her watch from the bedside table and checked the time. Nearly six thirty. Heavens, I slept almost nine hours. She laid the watch aside, found her robe and slippers, collected her toiletries bag, and went down the hall to see if the bathroom was free.

Some half hour later, dressed and ready to go downstairs, An’gel tapped on her sister’s door. After a moment, Dickce opened it and greeted An’gel with a yawn, quickly covered by a hand. “Sorry about that,” she mumbled. “I haven’t been up long. Slept okay but I still feel a little tired.”

“And obviously not dressed for breakfast,” An’gel said. “I’m going on down, I think. I’m ready for coffee.”

“I won’t be long,” Dickce said. “Leave some in the pot for me.” She yawned again as she closed the door.

An’gel heard another door open nearby. She turned to see Primrose Pace stick her head out her door across the hall. Mrs. Pace ducked back inside her room the moment she spotted An’gel looking at her. The door shut firmly but quietly.

An’gel smiled on her way downstairs as she recalled the scene late yesterday afternoon at the bathroom door. Peanut’s barking at the closed door made her wary, and when the door opened to reveal the medium behind it, An’gel had felt mighty relieved. Peanut hadn’t taken to the medium, nor she to the dog. Mrs. Pace had to be assured that Peanut wouldn’t shed all over her clothing, nor would he get in her room and chew up her shoes. An’gel had to wonder how many pairs the woman had brought with her and how many she had ever lost to a bored canine. The way the woman talked, she must travel with one large bag full of nothing but footwear.

They had all been on edge by the evening, thanks to the odd happenings in the house and the tensions among various persons. Mary Turner had seemed distracted during dinner, twice pulling out her cell phone and texting on it. She apologized for doing so, An’gel remembered, but offered no explanation as to whom she was texting or why. The messages appeared to have unsettled Mary Turner, but An’gel did not probe to find out why.

Serenity Foster and her lawyer, Wilbanks, had shown up at the dinner table, and Marcelline told them tartly that they would not be served. Wilbanks started to bluster, but Marcelline shut him down with words similar to those she had used earlier with Nathan Gamble. “You were not invited to dinner, Mr. Wilbanks,” Marcelline told him, “and neither were you or your brother, Mrs. Foster. Miss Mary made that clear, I thought. You’ll have to go find your dinner elsewhere.” After that, Serenity Foster had wisely retreated, urging her lawyer to come away and not make any further fuss.

Henry Howard had made no appearance, nor had An’gel spotted either Nathan Gamble or Primrose Pace leaving the house. She was not eager to encounter them that evening and was relieved not to have to engage in conversation with either of them.

She felt better able to face all of them after a good night’s rest. When she walked into the dining room this morning, she saw that the table was laid for six. Another, smaller table near the back of the dining room was laid for four.

An’gel helped herself to coffee from the sideboard, chose a seat, and in a moment Marcelline appeared.

“Good morning, Miss An’gel. You’re the first one down this morning,” she said. “There’s scrambled eggs, biscuits, gravy, and sausage for breakfast. If you want something lighter, I can make you some oatmeal, or there’s cereal and fruit. You just tell me what you’d like.”

An’gel had a weakness for biscuits and gravy, and she had no doubt Marcelline’s would be heaven on the tongue. Heavy on the stomach, however, and An’gel decided to opt for a breakfast lower in calories.

“Thank you,” An’gel said. “I’ll have a scrambled egg, a biscuit, and a little fruit.”