1 Bless Her Dead Little Heart (18 page)

“H
ow can you know that?” An’gel asked.

“I asked them all when they took their baths,” Kanesha said. “I found out that they didn’t know about the water heaters, and none of them likes cold baths. So they discussed it and came up with their own schedule. Mr. Thurmond always showers at night, as does Miss Cameron. They set times an hour apart, although it wasn’t necessary from what you told me.”

“I forgot to tell them about the hot water,” An’gel said. “Did you say anything, Sister?”

“No, I didn’t think of it,” Dickce said.

Kanesha continued with her list. “Mrs. Cameron likes to bathe first thing in the morning, and Mrs. Sultan, or rather, Mrs. Mingione, likes to sleep in. She had her bath shortly before her husband arrived, as it turns out. That left Mrs. Pittman, who decided to have hers after lunch.”

“Antoinette cleaned up in that bathroom while they were all eating lunch,” An’gel said. “She put fresh towels in there.”

“It wasn’t until after Antoinette put in those fresh towels,” Kanesha said, “that the killer hid the spiders inside the one on the top. Antoinette removed three towels from that bathroom and replaced them with four more.”

An’gel considered what Kanesha shared with them and realized the chief deputy was right. Maudine Pittman was the target, not her mother. The evidence seemed clear.

An’gel recalled her conversation with Dickce before they were asked to join Kanesha a few minutes ago. “Maudine was the target for the second murder, then. What about the first one? Do you think Rosabelle was the target, as she claims? Or was Marla the intended victim all along?”

“That depends on the overall motive,” Kanesha said. “What would be the motive if Signora Mingione died before anyone else? The most obvious answer is money. But how much? I think the amount depends on the order in which they die. If the signora dies first, her three children get their money from their fathers’ wills, and then they can do whatever they want with it. Spend it all or leave it to their heirs. If she dies after any of the children, she benefits until her death. I’ve got a call in to her lawyer in California to discuss the situation with him. I don’t know whether I can get him to talk without getting the client involved, but I have to try.”

“Dickce and I were discussing all the possibilities while we were waiting to talk to you,” An’gel said. “The variables make it so difficult to figure anything out.”

“Yes, they do,” Kanesha said. “Ladies, I think I need to remind you that figuring this out is my job. I appreciate everything you’ve done to help, but I want you to be extremely careful. I have no reason to believe that the killer would go after either of you—unless you somehow stand in the way. Please do not do anything that would make the killer think that you are a significant obstacle.”

An’gel appreciated the chief deputy’s concern for their welfare. She did not want to attract the murderer’s attention, nor did Dickce. Of that she was certain. The fact remained, however, that there was a killer in her house. One who had killed twice and, she was convinced, intended to kill again. She wanted it to stop.

She realized Kanesha was waiting for a response. “We both understand.”

“Yes, we do,” Dickce said tartly, with a slight stress on the pronoun.

“I’m going to ask both of you the same thing I asked everyone else,” Kanesha said. “I want you to consider everything you’ve seen, every interaction you’ve had with your guests, and if the slightest thing seems odd, I want you to tell me. It doesn’t matter how trivial it might be. I want to know about it.”

“I’ll do my best,” An’gel said, this time careful not to answer for her sibling. Dickce could be so touchy sometimes about being the younger sister.

“I will, too,” Dickce said.

“One more thing,” Kanesha said, “and then I think we’re done for the moment. I want to post two of my men in the house overnight, along with the off-duty man you’ve hired. I want to monitor everyone’s movements as much as possible. Once everyone has gone to bed, I’ll have my two men remain in the upstairs hall. Your man can patrol the first floor. Is that all right with you?”

“I’m frankly relieved,” An’gel said. “Very pleased as well. Thank you.”

“What about the garage apartment?” Dickce asked. “What if someone manages to slip out of the house and attacks Junior and Benjy?”

“I don’t have another man to spare for that,” Kanesha said. “I’m liable to be shorthanded as it is, especially if there’s some kind of emergency. Perhaps it would be best if Mr. Pittman and Mr. Stephens spent the night here in the house.”

“Is there possibly another off-duty deputy who could keep an eye on the area between the house and the garage?” An’gel asked. She thought Junior and Benjy would be safer if they weren’t in the house overnight, but she didn’t want to say that to Kanesha.

“I’ll check for you,” Kanesha said. “I appreciate your willingness to keep them all here in your house, despite the reservations I have about the potential danger. If it weren’t for the fact that moving them to a hotel could make it more difficult for us to keep an eye on them, I would have moved them out tonight.”

“I understand, but I don’t think anything will happen tonight with your men on duty in the house,” An’gel said. “I’ll simply have to hope that this will be the last night and that tomorrow you’ll have the killer in custody, and I can send them to a hotel if they have to remain in town for a while.”

“Amen to that,” Dickce said.

“I suggested they all go to their rooms and stay there until it’s time for dinner,” Kanesha said. “I have a deputy already on duty upstairs, and the other man will join him around eight
P.M.
” She rose from behind the desk. “If you need anything at all, call me. Use my personal cell number, not the sheriff’s department line.”

An’gel walked Kanesha to the front door. “I’m going to pray we have a quiet night.”

The chief deputy flashed a smile. “Like Miss Dickce said, amen to that. I’ll be back in the morning.”

An’gel closed the door and leaned against it for a moment, her eyes shut. What she wouldn’t give for a short nap right about now. The stress of the situation continued to sap her energy.

“I’m going to see if anything else needs to be done in the dining room,” Dickce said from the doorway of the library. “Poor Antoinette and Clementine are probably exhausted by now. We’d better give them both overtime for all this.”

An’gel nodded. “I’ll be along in a moment.” For a few seconds more she wanted to stay right where she was and enjoy the silence.

There was still much to do, however, before they could go to bed. She would insist that Clementine go home soon. She was sure Antoinette had kept an eye on her grandmother and insisted she rest during the day. Clementine was a hardy soul for the most part, but she couldn’t put in many sixteen-hour days. This was the second, and unless there was significant progress, An’gel realized, tomorrow would be another long, long day for all of them.

The doorbell rang, and An’gel was so startled she almost jumped away from it. She took a moment to catch her breath before she opened the door. She figured it was probably Kanesha coming back to tell her something she had forgotten to earlier.

The person standing before the door was definitely not Kanesha. An’gel had to stifle a gasp when she caught a glimpse of the young man’s face. She had never in her life been so close to a man this beautiful. Dark curly hair, liquid brown eyes, a strong nose, sensual lips, tanned skin, and chiseled features made her think of film idols of her youth. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a thin waist. His dark jacket and trousers accentuated his coloring perfectly. He could have stepped right off the cover of a romance novel.

An’gel realized she was staring rudely at the young man. She blinked and tried to focus her thoughts. “Good afternoon, what can I do for you?”

He smiled, and dimples appeared in both cheeks. “
Scusi, signora
, I will speak to Signor il Conte,
per favore
. I have come with his
valigia
, how you say, luggage.” He nodded, evidently pleased that he had remembered the English word.

“You are the manservant of Signor Mingione,” An’gel said. She should have figured that out right away. She might have, had she not been so stunned by his appearance. He was exotic for Athena, to say the least. “Please, do come in, and I will let the signor know you are here.”

“
Grazie, signora
,” he said. He picked up two large suitcases with apparent ease and brought them inside, where he set them gingerly on the floor.

An’gel closed the door. “Why don’t you wait in the parlor?” She gestured toward the open door.

He frowned but then nodded. She thought he might not understand the word
parlor
. She should have used the Italian word, but her mind blanked when she tried to recall it.

The young man walked into the parlor and stood there. An’gel decided she had better get herself up the stairs to let Antonio know about this arrival. She couldn’t continue to stand here and gawk at the handsome gentleman.

She walked quickly, but with care, up the staircase and knocked on Rosabelle’s door. This time Antonio answered right away. He smiled as he stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him.

“You have come to tell me that my
valletto
has arrived with my luggage. I called him and asked him to do so. I will come down at once to retrieve it.”

“Yes, your valet is waiting downstairs for you,” An’gel said. “He told me he wanted to speak with you. He’s waiting for you in the parlor.”

That did not appear to be welcome news, An’gel thought. Antonio’s mouth tightened as if he was clenching his teeth, but then he suddenly relaxed.

“I will see what he wants and send him on his way.” Antonio brushed past her toward the stairs.

“That’s up to you,” An’gel said, following more slowly. “He was perfectly polite, in fact, a charming young man, I thought.”

Antonio did not reply, although An’gel was sure he had heard her. What was it about this valet of his that seemed to make him tense? She couldn’t figure it out.

She hurried to catch up to Antonio once she reached the bottom of the stairs. She was curious to hear what he would say to the young man. She knew it was none of her business, but her curiosity was aroused. Exactly what happened to Dickce earlier, she realized, when her sister eavesdropped on the meeting between Rosabelle and Antonio. An’gel would think about that later.

As she neared the door, she heard her sister’s voice. What was Dickce doing in the parlor? She was supposed to be in the kitchen helping out.

An’gel strode forward into the parlor. Dickce stood smiling at the gorgeous young man while Antonio glowered at him. The young man smiled, too.

“An’gel, I invited Luca to stay and have dinner with us, and he said yes. Isn’t that delightful?”

W
hat was Dickce playing at? An’gel wondered. She didn’t mind if Luca stayed for dinner, but from what she could tell, Antonio wasn’t pleased.

Perhaps he objected to sharing a table with his servant. These Old World types could be stuffy about such things, but An’gel and Dickce were the hostesses here. If he couldn’t stand having Luca at the table with him, Antonio was welcome to take his plate elsewhere.

“You are very kind, signorina.” Luca flashed beautifully white teeth in a disarming smile.

Antonio rattled off something in Italian so quickly that An’gel couldn’t make sense of it. Her recollection of the language was too rusty.

Luca’s face darkened, and he stepped away from Dickce and toward his employer. Luca replied, and the men gestured and talked until Antonio threw up his hands. “
Basta!
All right, you may stay.”

Luca smirked. “
Grazie, signore
.”

“What time is dinner?” Antonio asked.

“Seven,” An’gel replied.

“Thank you.” Antonio inclined his head toward her. “I will return at seven with my wife.” He hurried from the room.

“It’s close to seven now,” Dickce said. “Luca, would you like to wash up before dinner?”

“
Scusi, signorina?
” Luca looked puzzled.

Dickce mimed washing her hands, and Luca smiled. It really was a rather dazzling sight, An’gel decided.

“Yes, please,” Luca said.

Dickce took his arm and led him out of the room. An’gel followed, determined to keep an eye on her sister and the handsome manservant. The minute she could get her sister to herself, she intended to ask Dickce what she was up to.

Dickce showed Luca to the downstairs half bath and indicated she would wait for him. He nodded and then shut himself in. Moments later An’gel heard the sound of the faucet running.

“What’s going on here?” An’gel said, keeping her voice low.

“What do you mean?” Dickce asked. “I simply invited a young man to dine with us. He’ll enjoy Clementine’s food much more than he would room service, even at the Farrington House.”

“It really is sweet of you to be so concerned about his meals,” An’gel said. “I know you, though. There’s more to it than that.”

Dickce shrugged. “Has it occurred to you that Rosabelle might not have met Luca before? I thought it would be interesting to bring them face-to-face in the same room with Antonio.”

Suddenly the implications of Dickce’s words hit An’gel. Dickce thought Luca was the
caro mio
to whom Antonio had spoken earlier. Dickce obviously also thought there was more to the relationship between the two men than that of employer and employee.

That would explain Antonio’s seeming discomfort over having Luca remain in the house for dinner, An’gel reasoned. He would be uncomfortable having his wife and his lover—his male lover—share the same dinner table.

“I don’t think this is such a good idea,” An’gel said, her patience with her sister at its breaking point, “but it’s too late to do anything about it now.” Shaking her head, she walked past Dickce to the kitchen.

Dickce felt only a smidgen of guilt as she watched An’gel stalk off, obviously in a snit with her. Dickce knew she could be playing with fire, but she couldn’t stand not knowing whether Luca was really Antonio’s lover. She figured Rosabelle deserved to know if he was, since Antonio intended to divorce her. Because of Luca, she was convinced.

She couldn’t blame Antonio, she decided. Luca was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. No matter how she gussied herself up, Rosabelle couldn’t compete with his youth and sheer gorgeousness. Dickce felt a little vindictive toward Rosabelle, and she would have to pray for forgiveness about it later. Right now, however, she wanted to shake her old friend up.

If Rosabelle was the killer—and Dickce was willing to bet she was—introducing Luca into the mix might rile Rosabelle up so much she would reveal herself. Dickce wasn’t clear on how she might do it, but she knew that rattling Rosabelle’s cage ought to produce interesting results.

Luca stepped out of the half bath and smiled at her again. Oh, my, she could look at that face for an hour without wanting to move. She sighed.

“Let me show you the dining room,” she said, once again taking Luca’s arm.
His strong, well-muscled arm
, she thought.

“Why don’t you sit here?” Dickce gestured to a chair across from where she thought Antonio and Rosabelle would probably sit. She intended to sit next to Luca. She wanted to be able to observe every gesture, every nuance, every glance, during the meal.

“What would you like to drink?” she asked as Luca pulled out his chair.

“
Vino rosso
?” he said. “Red wine?”

“What an excellent idea,” Dickce said. Liquor to loosen the tongues and lower the inhibitions—she should have thought of that herself. They had several bottles of a Bordeaux that would be perfect with roast beef as the main course. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Luca smiled and nodded, and Dickce had to tear her gaze away.
Really, this is getting ridiculous
, she scolded herself as she hurried to the kitchen to fetch the wine.
You can’t keep staring at him like a besotted schoolgirl
.

An’gel looked up from the stove when Dickce came into the kitchen. “Good, you’re just in time,” she said. “We’re ready to take everything into the dining room.”

“I’m going to open a couple of bottles of wine,” Dickce said. “I thought it would be pleasant to have it with Clementine’s roast.”

“You’ll have to get out the wineglasses yourself,” An’gel said. “Antoinette and I will carry in the food. I sent Benjy and Diesel to remind Junior about dinner.”

An’gel still had her snit on, Dickce decided. Probably anxiety over the coming meal. There would be fireworks of some sort. Dickce was counting on it. An’gel could chew her out later if she wanted.

Dickce took two bottles of the Bordeaux from the wine cabinet and opened them. She bore them to the dining room on a tray with the wineglasses. An’gel and Antoinette were arranging the food on the sideboard. Dickce set the wine on the table and put a glass at every plate. Luca watched all the activity with his pleasant smile, and Dickce noticed Antoinette stealing peeks at the handsome young Italian. He did not appear to notice the beautiful young woman in the room, and that cemented Dickce’s belief that he was gay.

Dickce poured wine for herself and Luca. He picked up his glass, swirled the wine, then sniffed. He tasted, then nodded approvingly. “
Squisito
.
Salute
.”

Dickce raised her glass to him and smiled. She tasted the wine. It was as delicious as she remembered.

In the next few minutes An’gel and Antoinette had the sideboard loaded with roast beef, mashed potatoes, green beans, homemade rolls, and whipped sweet potatoes. Their guests began to appear, Wade first, followed shortly by Bernice and Juanita. Benjy and Junior came next. Dickce introduced them all to Luca, who smiled and repeated their names. They all had trouble taking their eyes off Luca as they arranged themselves around the table, Dickce was amused to see. Even An’gel kept glancing his way. She thought Juanita and Benjy, in particular, seemed fascinated by the new guest.

Soon after, Rosabelle made her entrance with Antonio escorting her.

Dickce thought Rosabelle looked peevish, and she wondered how much Antonio had told her in advance about the unexpected addition to their dinner party. Luca rose as his employer and Rosabelle neared the table.

Dickce watched Rosabelle’s face as she beheld Luca for the first time.

Rosabelle’s eyes widened, and then she smiled. Dickce had to stifle a giggle. Rosabelle couldn’t resist the allure of an attractive man, and Dickce knew Rosabelle was getting ready to be at her charming best with Luca.
Is
she
in for a surprise
, Dickce thought.

Antonio glowered at Luca as he spoke. “Rosabella, dearest, allow me to introduce to you my
valletto
, Luca Cavalcante. Luca, my wife, the Contessa di San Lorenzo.”

Rosabelle held out her hand, and Luca bent over it, his face impassive. “
Piacere, Signora la Contessa
.”

“
Piacere
, Luca. I’m delighted to meet you. Antonio, the naughty man, has told me so little about you.” Rosabelle fluttered her eyelashes at Luca, who merely nodded. Rosabelle frowned, obviously disconcerted at the lack of further response.

“Please help yourselves, everyone,” An’gel said. “There is red wine for those who would like it; otherwise there is iced tea and water.”

There was no conversation as the guests lined up to fill their plates at the sideboard. Wade went first. His consumption of whiskey earlier in the day didn’t seem to have affected his appetite, Dickce mused as he piled his plate high with roast and mashed potatoes. Within a few minutes everyone was seated again at the table, and Wade grabbed a bottle and filled his glass. More bottles were passed up and down the table, and Dickce noted that everyone except Benjy and An’gel partook of the wine. She would probably need to fetch another bottle or two. She didn’t think Wade would be content with a single glass nor, she suspected, would Antonio.

The latter focused on his food, with frequent sips of wine. Probably trying his best to ignore Luca’s presence, Dickce figured.

Rosabelle, however, picked at her food while casting furtive glances at the manservant.
Trying to figure him out
, Dickce thought with amusement.
She’s not used to men who aren’t immediately dazzled by her
.

“Luca, my husband has told me so little about you,” Rosabelle said. “How long have you worked for him?”

Luca, wineglass to his lips, drained the contents and set the glass down before he replied. “Three years we have been together, but I remain in Italy when he comes to the United States.” He scowled as he picked up the nearest bottle and emptied it into his glass.

Rosabelle smiled. “Then you have worked for him a year longer than I’ve been married to him.”

“
Si, è vero
.” Luca lifted his wine and drank half the glass.

Rosabelle’s eyes narrowed. “Sorry, I don’t speak Italian. What does that mean?”

Luca curled his lip. “It means, yes, it is true.” His tone sounded insolent to Dickce, and she could see that Rosabelle was bothered by it.

“There’s no need to be rude, young man, because I don’t speak your language.” Rosabelle poked her fork hard into a piece of roast and stuck it in her mouth.

Luca shrugged, and Dickce thought the gesture even more insolent than his tone.
This is getting good
. How much more would it take before the fireworks started?

Antonio spoke rapidly in Italian, and Dickce found it almost impossible to follow. He was chastising Luca for his behavior, she knew that.

Luca muttered under his breath for a moment, then spoke clearly. “
Sì, Signor il Conte
.” He inclined his head toward Antonio.

Rosabelle turned to her husband. “Does he behave like this frequently? I would not put up with this from any servant of mine, not for a minute.”

“It is no matter, my dear,” Antonio said in a soothing tone. “We Italians are a passionate race, and sometimes we sound angry or insolent to others when we are simply talking in a normal fashion. Do not be upset.”

Rosabelle didn’t look convinced, and Dickce could sense the tension building in Luca. He fired off a comment in Italian, and Dickce had to stifle a gasp of surprise. She understood just enough of it to know that the young man had basically asked Antonio if he made love to his wife as often as he made love to Luca.

She stole a glance at An’gel. From what she could tell, her sister hadn’t understood any of it, which was just as well. She would have had a fit on the spot.

Antonio’s face turned purple with rage. Rosabelle stared back and forth at him and Luca, aware that something had gone wrong but not sure what. Antonio stood suddenly, pushing his chair back with a jerk. He threw his napkin down on the table and started yelling at Luca.

Luca rose from his place and yelled back.

An’gel got to her feet. “Stop this at once,” she roared.

Antonio stopped in mid-yell and stared at her, as did Luca.

“This is ridiculous,” An’gel said in a more normal tone. “I will not have this outrageous behavior at my dinner table.”

“I am appalled, Antonio, that you would behave like this with your servant in front of everyone.” Rosabelle shook her head. “You are a gentleman, a nobleman, and this is surely beneath you.”

Wade laughed, surprising them all. “Mother, how stupid can you be?” He laughed again. “Don’t you get it? Haven’t you ever heard a lovers’ quarrel before?”