Once again, Lacey and I found ourselves driving under the tunnel of fragrant junipers to Etta Derricot's stately mansion. We weren't too sure how they would receive us, especially if Etta had already been questioned by the police. We needed to talk to Grace so we decided to just continue with our previous guise of two reporters looking for nice stories about Minnie. Etta could hardly say no to a newspaper tribute to her deceased sister without it seeming suspicious.
The jeep tires crossed the herringbone brick as I pulled onto the circular driveway in front of the mansion. Lacey and I were both more than surprised to find Etta Derricot, dressed in trousers, khaki blouse and straw hat, planting a row of purple and yellow pansies in a blank spot near the front steps. She was on her knees, bending forward and vigorously digging holes in the earth. Princess, Etta's gray cat, was lounging on the top porch step, soaking up the intermittent sun as it poked through the clouds.
I looked over at Lacey. I was sure my expression mirrored hers.
"Maybe she's feeling better? Arthritis comes and goes, or at least that was what my grandfather used to say," Lacey suggested.
"That's true. I think weather plays a part. Let's hope since her joints are feeling better, she'll be happy to see us."
We climbed out of the jeep. The doors slamming shut pulled Etta's attention away from the pansies. She spun around and lifted her chin to see past the brim of her straw hat. Her mouth, about the only portion of her face we could see under the shade of the hat, pulled down into an obvious frown.
"Guess I'll rule out happy to see us," I muttered as we headed along the path to the front steps.
"I think I've said just about all I can say about my sister. As I mentioned, we were distant in the past few years." Etta pushed to her feet rather easily considering not just arthritis but her age.
"Afternoon," I said brightly despite her sour face. I forged ahead. "Thanks again for your input on the article. It's coming along nicely."
That statement wiped a bit of the sour away. "Well, that's good to hear. Minnie deserves a nice tribute. What brings you back here?"
"We were hoping to get a little more input. We thought we might interview your assistant, Grace. See if she has anything to add to the article."
"They hardly knew each other, although Grace was working for me way back when Minnie and I were still talking. My sister would drop by for tea and cookies a few times a week." A breeze nearly picked up and took off with her hat. She patted it lower on her head. "Grace is rather busy. She does the laundry on Mondays." Etta looked more than hesitant to let us go inside and interrupt Grace's work day.
"We promise to take no more than ten minutes of her time. We're just trying to get a wide swath of friends and family to do the story justice," I said.
"I suppose it will be all right. The front door is open. If you turn right at the first hallway and continue to the end you'll find her in the laundry room. But ten minutes only, please."
I lifted my phone. "I'll keep a close eye on the time."
Etta readjusted her hat and moved to sit on her kneeling pad again.
"You're lucky," Lacey said unexpectedly. "My cat won't leave me alone when I'm in the garden. He has to rub himself all around me. Sometimes he even falls asleep on the knee pad, leaving me to kneel on the dirt." We all looked toward the gray cat that had woken from its nap long enough to lick a paw.
"Yes, well, Princess isn't very affectionate. She prefers to be on her own." Some of the sour had returned to her expression.
"Yes, they are all so different, aren't they?" Lacey said lightly. "Well, we won't keep you from your pansies."
Lacey and I climbed the front steps. She made a point of stopping to rub Princess behind the ear. The cat instantly purred and rubbed its head against her hand. "Huh, she seems pretty affectionate to me," Lacey muttered.
We stopped at the front door and turned to each other. It seemed all sorts of ideas were forming in our heads, but all of them were a little too fresh and dubious to say out loud.