Kent Conwell - Tony Boudreaux 04 - Vicksburg by Kent Conwell

podgy Miss Abigail. The only one
behind Miss America was the nervous secretary.

    She stopped in front of me. Her dark eyes blazed fire.
“Mr. Boudreaux?”
    “Yes”
    Her light green eyes narrowed, and her well-defined jaw
hardened. “I’m Abigail Collins, and I can’t say that I am
pleased to meet you”
    You could have knocked me over with Jack’s broken emu
feather. I had no idea what she was talking about. All I could
do was gape.
    Her eyes blazed.
    Finally, I managed to overcome my surprise and shock.
“You have me at a disadvantage, Miss Collins” I took a step
backward. “Obviously, you’re upset about something, but I
haven’t the slightest idea what”
    “Oh, you don’t, do you? Don’t you represent John Wesley
Edney?”
    “Represent?” I shook my head. “No. I’m a private investigator looking into his death”
    The anger fled from her face, replaced with a puzzled
frown. “Investigator?”
    I glanced over her shoulder at the curious young receptionist who was straining to hear our conversation. “Is there
someplace we can talk? Privately.”
    She realized the receptionist was behind her. “Oh, yes. In
my office. Please. This way.” As she turned, she spoke to her
receptionist. “Hold any calls, Marsha”
    “Impressive place you have here,” I said, following her
into her office. “I’ve never visited Monticello.” I gestured to
the windows that were set near the floor. “Is this what the
real place is like?”
    A pleased smile dimpled her cheeks as she slipped into
her chair behind the desk and nodded to another in front of her desk. “Isn’t it beautiful? I wish I could say I was responsible for the idea, but the idea belonged to Wilson Jenkins,
the previous director of the society. I took his place when he
retired two years ago. He is such a wonderful man. I-” She
caught herself. Her cheeks colored. “I mean, we really miss
him around here.” She glanced appreciatively around the
room, her eyes settling on the windows. “Jefferson worked
on Monticello for forty years. He set the windows close to
the floor so that from outside, the house gives the appearance of a three-story building.”

    I frowned.
    With a warm smile, she continued. “Take a look when you
leave. In the other wings, windows are set higher, and those
in the dome create the illusion of three stories.”
    The room in which we sat was impressive. I said as much.
    With a soft laugh, she replied, “It wasn’t cheap”
    “Jenkins must have had some generous donors”
    Her smile faded into a frown. “He did. One in particular.
John Wesley Edney.”
    I attributed her frown to his death. I pulled out the sympathy card. “I saw the card you sent his children. They
appreciated it very much” The last was a lie, but I figured
anyone who sent a -card should believe it was appreciated.
    Her next remark almost knocked me out of my chair.
“Had I known then what I learned yesterday, I would have
saved the postage” The fire I’d seen earlier in her eyes
blazed once again.
    I forced a chuckle. “I’m sorry, Miss Collins. I don’t
understand.”
    Her eyes scrutinized me. Slowly, the anger faded from her
eyes. “You really don’t, do you?”
    “I wish I did. What happened to upset you?”
    “Upset?” She drew a deep breath. “How about infuriated,
enraged, outraged?”
    I gave her a crooked grin. “Okay. I’ll go along with infuriated. I don’t know about outraged, but infuriated works for
me,” I replied flippantly.

    She glared at me a moment, then a tiny smile ticked up
the edge of her lips. She gave her head a brief shake. “Please
excuse me, Mr. Boudreaux, but-”
    “Call me Tony. Like they always say, Mr. Boudreaux is
my father. I’m just Tony.”
    Her smile grew wider. “All right, Tony. I’m Abigail, Abby
to my friends.”
    “Nice to know you, Abby. Now, fill me in on what’s going
on. What happened yesterday?”
    She paused a moment. “I told you