Миранда Джеймс - Six Cats A Slayin'

“You’ll keep digging, I’m sure.”

“Darn tootin’, I’ll keep digging.” Melba shot me a look full of determination. “I want to know who that woman really is and what she’s after.”

“Let me know if you find out,” I said in a light tone. “In the meantime I’m going to go upstairs and get to work.”

Melba nodded, but I could see that her mind was still preoccupied with the mystery of Geraldine Albritton. I knew the problem would worry her until she found an answer.

I had more than enough to do that day without spending time thinking about my mysterious neighbor. Two graduate students from the history department had been working in the archive recently. One was a master’s degree student, the other a doctoral one. Both specialized in Southern history, and the archive held several collections of diaries and private papers of great interest for Mississippi and for Southern history in general. The students could only work with the documents under my supervision, however. No one was allowed to remove documents from the archive without special permission, and that was rarely given.

To my surprise, neither student was waiting, as at least one of them usually was. Moreover, neither made an appearance that morning. I finally remembered why. The semester was almost at an end, and their Christmas and New Year’s break loomed closer. This was finals week, and they were far too busy elsewhere. They might even have headed home already for the holidays. I had the office completely to myself. No Diesel, no students.

With the quiet around me, I decided I would have a productive day with few distractions. That meant I could get on with cataloging a collection of nineteenth-century Southern novels from a recent donation. The donor had collected the work of writers like John Pendleton Kennedy, William Gilmore Simms, Kate Chopin, and George Tucker. I had to resist the temptation to read instead of catalog, though, because—with the exception of Chopin—I had not read these writers. Two of the books even featured inscriptions by the authors, and that made them even more interesting to me. I liked that personal touch.

I happily spent a couple of hours immersed in cataloging after I finished checking and responding as needed to my e-mail. A little after ten thirty, the ringing of my office phone pulled me from my absorption in creating detailed notes about the copy of Kennedy’s Swallow Barn from the collection. I laid it aside to pick up the receiver.

“Charlie Harris. How can I help you?”

“Hey, Charlie, hope I’m not bothering you, but I wanted to talk to you a minute if you’ve got the time,” a man’s voice said.

After a moment’s hesitation I recognized the caller as Milton Harville, the owner of one of the pharmacies in town. The business had originated with his grandfather and had remained in the family since. Milton’s daughter Jenny had recently graduated from pharmacy school and had joined her father in the store. The Harvilles had also lived in my neighborhood for several generations, and Milton and I had been in the same class in school. We had been friends since elementary school.

“Hi, Milton, sure thing, what’s up?” I replied.

“Well, I feel kinda funny even asking about this, but you and me, well, we’ve known each other forever, besides being neighbors, so I reckoned you might not mind talking about it.”

Milton, whose house stood in the middle of the block on the street behind mine, had always taken forever to get to the point in a conversation, and today was no exception. He was a nice guy, so I responded in a friendly tone. “Talking about what?”

I heard an indrawn breath at the other end of the line. Then the expulsion of a sigh. “It’s this new neighbor of ours, Gerry Albritton. You must have met her by now, surely.”

“Yes, I’ve met her,” I said. “She can be a little overwhelming.” That seemed a safe enough comment.

“You’re not kidding,” Milton said. “Pushy ain’t the word, I gotta tell you. She’s been after me and Tammy about this party of hers. Tammy don’t want to go, but you know I’m in business, and I can’t afford to offend potential customers. Gerry looks like she wears a lot of makeup, and she could be a real good customer. We sell a lot of cosmetics here, you know. So, I feel like we kinda have to go to this shindig of hers, even if I have to go without Tammy, but I’ll never hear the end of it if I do go without her, so I’m wondering what the heck I oughta do.” He paused for a breath, then hurried on before I could respond.

“So, I got to thinking about our neighbors, and you’re the one who’s closest in age to me, so I decided I’d ask you what you’re going to do about it. Are you going? And is Helen Louise going with you? Because if Helen Louise is going, I can probably talk Tammy into it because she loves Helen Louise’s place and is always going in there and buying cakes and pastries to bring home. It’s a wonder I can fit through the door, I eat so much of that stuff.”

I seized my chance when he paused. “I am going, and I imagine Helen Louise will go with me, though I haven’t asked her about it yet. I’m sure enough of the neighborhood will be there, for curiosity’s sake, if nothing else, so no one person will have to spend much time talking to Gerry Albritton. That should make Tammy feel better.” I didn’t know Tammy well. Milton had met and married her when he went to pharmacy school in Jackson, and they didn’t move back to Athena until Jackie and I had moved to Texas. In the years since I had come home to Athena, I saw her occasionally in the store, but she hadn’t been particularly friendly. A cold fish, in my opinion, not exactly a woman that I would have pictured the gregarious Milton marrying. He seemed devoted to her, though.

“Well, maybe so.” Milton didn’t sound all that sure. “You know what Tammy’s like, she thinks every woman I talk to is trying to lure me away from her, and I keep telling her, I don’t have time for that stuff, I have a business to run, and besides, I’ve never wanted any woman besides Tammy ever since we met, but you know how she is. And I sure ain’t no movie star, never have been, so I can’t figure out why Tammy thinks women are so hot for me all the time.”

Milton was right—he didn’t have movie-star looks, but he was still an attractive man. He worked out and had all his hair, and he had a friendly, engaging manner that served him well at the pharmacy. His wife went overboard with the jealous routine, but I figured there were probably more than a few of Milton’s female customers who shopped more often than was strictly necessary at the pharmacy in order to chat with him.

I decided not to address Tammy’s possessiveness; otherwise Milton might complain about it further, and I’d be on the phone several minutes more. Instead I reiterated my previous comments.

“I sure hope you’re right,” Milton said, “but the Lord only knows what Tammy might do.” He paused for a moment, and I was hoping he was ready to end the conversation. Instead, he surprised me with his next words.

“I can’t help thinking I know her, Charlie, but I don’t know how I know her, you know what I mean? There’s something about her that’s familiar, and it’s been nagging at me. But for the life of me, I can’t put a finger on it. You ever had that feeling about someone? Because if you have, you know how annoying it can be, it’s like a little worm in your brain wiggling around trying to find the way out.”

I suppressed the sudden mental image I had of a worm burrowing in my brain and addressed Milton’s main point.

“I’ve had that feeling, certainly, but not about Gerry Albritton,” I said. “Remember, I was gone from Athena for a long time, so there are a lot of people here now that I don’t know. I’m pretty sure I’ve never met her before.”