Tippy chattered to the animals and occasionally to Benjy, and Benjy, realizing that she didn’t require a response, let his mind drift. He felt sorry for the kid. He knew what it was like to lose a mother, and he had to make an effort not to let grief overwhelm him. He didn’t want to have to explain to Tippy why he was so sad.
Then Benjy wondered whether anyone had told her about the deaths of her mother and great-grandmother. He wished he’d thought to ask before he started babysitting. The last thing he wanted to do was upset the kid by saying something out of turn.
Tippy chattered on, telling Peanut how much he would like the cake she had made and then insisting to Endora that she have another sip of tea. He smiled, and Tippy glanced at him and giggled.
“Peanut and Endora sure are enjoying their tea party,” Benjy said. “Thank you again for inviting us.”
“I wuv tea pawties,” Tippy said. She ducked her head and began cutting invisible slices of cake to dole out to the animals for a third or fourth helping.
Benjy thought the lisp was pretty cute, though it brought back uncomfortable memories. He’d had one when he was her age and hoped she would grow out of it sooner than he had. He remembered the teasing in kindergarten and first grade because he had trouble with l and r sounds.
He heard the word mommy suddenly and focused on what Tippy was saying.
“Mommy doesn’t wike the bad man,” she told Peanut solemnly. “He doesn’t wike her either and yewws at her.”
“When did you hear the bad man yelling at your mommy, Tippy?” Benjy knew he had to tread carefully. He thought this could be important, but he didn’t want to upset Tippy.
“A wot of times,” Tippy said. She poked a spoon at the teddy bear. “Wance, have some cweam.”
“Did you hear him last night?” Benjy said.
Tippy squinted, her head slightly to one side. “I think so. I was asweep, and dey woke me up. And den dere was a wot of noise. It was scawy, all the wightning and thunder.” She stared solemnly at Benjy. “Wance and I hid under de covers until we feww asweep.”
“I like to hide under the covers when there’s a bad storm,” Benjy told the child mendaciously.
Tippy nodded and went back to feeding the bear invisible cream. He scratched Peanut’s ears as he thought about what Tippy had told him. If the child was right, and a man had been yelling at Sondra about the time the storm hit, could that man have something to do with Sondra’s death? He knew Miss An’gel and Miss Dickce were concerned that Sondra’s death was not the result of a freak accident.
Those thoughts disturbed him, but another, more disturbing one came quickly. What would happen if the man knew Tippy had heard the argument?
CHAPTER 22
An’gel didn’t want to alarm Jacqueline any further by voicing her concern over Tippy’s welfare. Perhaps they could keep watch over the little one without letting on to Jacqueline they thought Tippy could be in danger. She, Dickce, and Benjy would take turns with the child until Sondra’s murderer was identified.
There was another subject she wanted to broach with her goddaughter, however, that could be almost as unsettling. An’gel felt she had little choice with this one.
In a gentle tone she asked, “Is Horace having any financial problems?”
Jacqueline closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Eyes open again, she looked at An’gel. “Yes, he is. He says it’s only a temporary cash-flow situation. Nothing really serious. He’s been through this before.”
“Do you think he’s telling you the truth?” Dickce asked, and An’gel wished her sister hadn’t been quite so blunt.
“Horace hasn’t ever lied to me,” Jacqueline said. “I have no reason to doubt him.”
An’gel thought her goddaughter’s statements lacked assurance. She hoped for Jacqueline’s sake Horace was as truthful as she claimed. If he was not, and the financial issue was truly serious, An’gel wondered to what lengths Horace would go to gain the money he needed. Would he kill two women to ensure that his wife inherited everything? A wife he could no doubt persuade to invest her considerable wealth in his business ventures?
An’gel wondered about that. She had never really felt she knew Horace beyond a superficial level. On past visits she and Dickce spent their time with Mireille and Jacqueline, seeing Horace mostly at meals. He was always on the go, attending to business, and on some visits they didn’t see him at all. On their last visit to Willowbank, almost five years ago, Horace had been out of the country the entire time.
Moreover, An’gel realized, Jacqueline’s letters—and later on, her e-mails—mentioned Horace and his activities only infrequently at best. She had nothing more than Jacqueline’s assurance that Horace was truthful. Mireille had always been reticent on the subject of her second son-in-law. An’gel didn’t think Mireille considered him a bad choice on Jacqueline’s part, but Mireille had adored Terence. An’gel thought her cousin had had only lukewarm feelings for Horace.
For An’gel, Jacqueline’s confidence in her husband wasn’t enough. How could she question Horace discreetly? She would have to come up with a plan to introduce the subject of finances and business and hope that Horace would reveal himself in some way.
“Do you expect me to believe my husband is the one who cut the brake line on Sondra’s car?” Jacqueline demanded in a fretful tone. “That’s utterly ridiculous.”
“We have to consider every possibility,” An’gel said. “Look at it this way. Can you think of any other reason, besides money, that would lead someone to murder Sondra?”
“Not when you put it like that, I guess not,” Jacqueline said a bit more calmly. “Sondra annoyed many people because she was so self-centered, but that’s no reason to kill anyone.”
“You told us earlier,” Dickce said, “that Mireille had planned to drive into town with Sondra, but she changed her mind and didn’t go. Who all knew that Mireille was going to be in the car with Sondra?”
“Well, Estelle and Jackson knew, of course.” Jacqueline frowned. “I knew, and I’m sure Horace did, too. Trey probably did as well.”
“Anyone else?” An’gel asked. “What about your lawyer, Mr. Thurston?”
Jacqueline thought about that for a moment. “He probably knew, I think. Maman had planned to stop by his office while she was in town, but then she ended up calling to cancel the appointment when she had to stay home.” She regarded An’gel intently. “Do you think Rich drove out here and cut the brake lines on Sondra’s car without anyone seeing him?”
An’gel grimaced. “I know it sounds odd, dear, but we have to take everyone—and everything—into account. He doesn’t seem the type to go creeping through the underbrush and the trees, but you never can tell.”
“Sounds pretty ridiculous to me,” Jacqueline said. “I’ve known Rich Thurston all my life, and you never met a more fastidious man.” She sniffed. “Can’t stand to get his hands dirty on anything, and if he knows even how to find a brake line in a car, I’d be surprised.”
An’gel heard the conviction in her goddaughter’s voice. She wondered whether Jacqueline would understand the implications of what she just told them. If Thurston didn’t cut the brake lines—motive to be determined—that left Horace sitting in the seat of chief suspect, at least as far as An’gel was concerned.
“What about Trey?” Dickce asked. She looked oddly at An’gel. “Does he have money of his own? I suppose he works for Horace.”
“He does,” Jacqueline said. “He manages one of Horace’s dealerships in a nearby parish. I know Horace pays him well, and Trey isn’t extravagant.” She paused. “He can be pretty hotheaded at times, but he has nothing to gain from these deaths.”