Shadow of an Angle by Mignon F. Ballard Page B

earlier said I could go home tomorrow."
    "Home to where?" I said. "You certainly don't expect to go back to those rooms behind the store."
    "And why not? It's a lot safer there than at the UMW!" Mildred sat up to sip water, then lay down with a sigh. "I like where I live. It's close to everything, and the bookshop's right there with nothing but a door between us. I can just walk right in."
    "Obviously so can anyone else," Vesta reminded her. "You're coming home with me."
    "Or me," I offered. "After all, there's plenty of room, and I'm the only one there." Well…almost.
    "I've been thinking it might be a good time to go and see Lydia," Mildred said. "She's moved into her own place now, and she's been after me to visit since she left here."
    Lydia Bowen and Mildred had been like salt and pepper since Mildred first came to Angel Heights, and when Mildred wasn't taking care of Otto and the rest of us—and Lydia wasn't clerking at the Dresses Divine Boutique—you seldom saw one without the other. Vesta had once confided to me that she didn't know how the local Methodists knew to put one foot in front of the other until Mildred and Lydia showed them how. But soon after Lydia's husband died, a year or so ago, her older sister fell ill, and she moved back to Columbia to be near her.
    "That's a wonderful idea," Vesta said with obvious relief in her voice. I wasn't sure if it was because Mildred would be in less danger or that she wouldn't be staying with her. "I know how you've missed her, and Lydia must be lonely…. I'll phone her tonight, and one of us can drive you over in a few days when you're stronger."
    "That's kind of you, Vesta, but I can take care of it myself—only it'll have to wait until tomorrow. Right now I need to sleep." Mildred gathered the sheet to her chin and closed her eyes.
    I volunteered to stay the night. Since we weren't sure what Mildred had ingested, Dr. Hank, as well as the rest of us, was concerned about a possible delayed reaction. But our patient slept the whole time except for when she was awakened periodically by nurses. Gatlin dropped by for a couple of hours after she got her family settled for the night, and in a nearby waiting room we hunkered on green plastic chairs and whispered, trying to distance ourselves from other vigil keepers who slept restlessly or thumbed through magazines. November wind blew gusts of rain across the lamplit parking lot below, where rows of wet vehicles shone in a one-color world.
    "Looks like Mildred might not have been so paranoid after all," Gatlin admitted, moving a stack of dog-eared newspapers to make room for me beside her. "But where on earth did she get it?"
    "She said she had only coffee and cereal for breakfast yesterday," I said, "then nothing until Edna Smith brought her supper. If Edna meant to poison her, you'd think she'd be more discreet."
    "Minda, you don't suppose she did it to herself? Otto was Mildred's life. Maybe she didn't feel like going on without him."
    "I don't think so—at least I hope not. She's mad as hell, though. I can't see her even considering dying until she finds out who killed Otto and then yanks out his nose hairs one by one before throwing him to the alligators."
    A man lying on the one sofa made an issue of turning over and resettling his raincoat about his shoulders, so I lowered my voice. "Or her nose hairs. Mildred seems to think Sylvie might have become disenchanted with our Otto."
    "Do tell," my cousin said.
    I knew better than to meet her eyes. "Give me a break, Gatlin. Don't make me start to laugh…. They'll throw us out of here."
    "Sorry. It was just the idea of anyone being enchanted with Otto in the first place." She shifted in her chair and sighed. "So, was Sylvie at the UMW thing last night?"
    "Mildred didn't mention her, and anyway, why would Sylvie want to tear apart the bookshop? What could she be looking for?"
    "I can't imagine, unless Otto had a rare volume that's worth a lot of money and told Sylvie about