Миранда Джеймс - No Cats Allowed

“I’ll get you something for that.” Melba left my office at a fast pace and returned before I could do much besides gather up the personnel files and stuff them in my briefcase. I scooped up a few pens from Reilly’s desk drawer and stuck them in as well. I couldn’t seem to keep them in my desk at home because various residents kept helping themselves to any I put there.

Melba handed me a cup of water and two aspirin. “These will do the trick.”

I dutifully popped them in my mouth and washed them down with the water. I returned the cup and thanked her. “I’m going to check for last-minute e-mails, and then I’ll be ready to go.”

“I’ll be ready when you are,” she said.

Diesel, who had been remarkably quiet until now, decided to join the conversation. He treated us to a combination of chirps and warbles, and I supposed he was telling us that he, too, would be ready to go. He was starving and upon the point of utter collapse, due to severe malnutrition, and I had better get him home quickly if I didn’t want an expired feline on my hands and my conscience.

That’s how I interpreted the various sounds he made, anyway, based on my past experience during mornings when I did not get out of bed soon enough to tend to his dietary requirements.

Melba laughed along with me as the feline version of a diatribe came to an end. I patted his head and assured him we wouldn’t be long.

I was relieved to see no new e-mails. I checked my briefcase to be sure I had put in it all I wanted to take home, put Diesel’s leash on, and grabbed my jacket. I paused to lock the door, and then Melba and I were ready to go.

The repairman appeared to have done the installation of the new windshield properly. Rain began to fall lightly as I was getting Diesel into the car, and I was thankful to have the glass in place.

The downpour grew slightly heavier, and I turned on the wipers and the headlights. The sky had grown darker. I’d be glad to get home before the weather got any worse.

I slowed the car as we neared the house, preparatory to making the left turn into the driveway. My heart thudded painfully in my chest when I saw not one, but two sheriff’s department cars parked on the street in front of my house.

TWENTY-SEVEN

Why didn’t someone call me? My hands trembled on the wheel as I steered the car into the garage. I should have been firmer with Azalea and convinced her to take time off . I was so rattled I almost left Diesel in the car. Only several loud meows stopped me from abandoning him in the garage. I was desperate to get inside to find out what had happened.

Diesel shot inside the moment the door opened wide enough. I stumbled on the threshold but caught myself before I went sprawling on the floor. My chest heaved as I righted myself and stared into four startled faces. My housekeeper occupied one chair, and Kanesha, Stewart Delacorte, and Haskell Bates occupied the others.

“Thank the Lord you’re okay, Azalea.” I managed to squeeze the words out. “What happened? Did someone try to break in?”

“Have mercy, Mr. Charlie, what’s the matter with you?” Azalea replied over the barking of a dog. I spotted Stewart’s poodle, Dante, wiggling ecstatically as he tried to lick his buddy Diesel’s face. Diesel swatted at him but failed to convince him the attentions were not appreciated.

“I saw the patrol cars outside, and I figured there had been some kind of emergency,” I said. Stewart and his partner, Haskell, exchanged glances while Kanesha frowned at me. “But nothing happened, I guess.”

“That’s correct,” Kanesha said. “I came by to check on my mother, and Stewart and Bates stopped by to see you.”

I leaned against the refrigerator and drew deep breaths. My pulse rated dropped back to normal, and I felt like an idiot. “I’m glad nothing’s wrong.”

Diesel, accompanied by the happy poodle, disappeared into the utility room. I pulled out the chair next to Kanesha and sat. “Nice to see you, Stewart,” I said. “You, too, Haskell. We don’t get to see much of you these days.”

“I keep telling Haskell he ought to give up that tiny apartment of his and move in here with me.” Stewart grimaced at his boyfriend. “There’s plenty of room, even for his ginormous boot collection, but he keeps resisting.”

Haskell frowned. I knew he didn’t like discussing personal matters in front of others. He was so reserved he would make a clam seem chatty.

“It would be fine with me,” I said. “There’s more room on the third floor if you’d like extra space. Justin uses only the one bedroom, and the other two are empty. Plenty of closet space.”

“Thank you,” Haskell said. “I will keep that in mind.” He shot Stewart a glance that seemed to promise an argument once the two were alone together. Stewart appeared not in the least worried, though. He grinned back at Haskell. I had no doubt Stewart would eventually get his way.

I turned to Kanesha. “How’s the investigation progressing? Did Chief Ford get in touch with you about what happened to my car?”

Stewart responded before Kanesha could answer me. “What happened to your car? Did somebody hit you?”

“No, I got a great big rock through the windshield. Deliberately.”

Stewart frowned, but this time Kanesha spoke first. “Yes, I heard about it. To answer your first question, yes, the investigation is progressing.”

I waited to hear more details but she didn’t continue. “That’s all you’re going to say?” I asked.

“That’s all you need to know,” she replied coolly as she rose. “Make sure you keep using the alarm system, you and Mama both.” She looked at Bates for a moment. “It might be a good idea if you did stay here a few nights, Bates. You’re off this weekend, too.”

Haskell frowned. “Is that an order, ma’am?” He didn’t appear happy at being forced into this particular corner.

“No, it’s not,” Kanesha said. “But I would take it as a personal favor if you would stay here, at least until the investigation is complete. I would feel a lot better about the security of this house with you on the premises.”

Thus she boxed him up and tied the bow as neatly as Forrest Wyatt had done with me. There was no way he could refuse now without looking like a completely selfish jerk. I felt sympathy for him, but I was relieved as well.

“All right, ma’am,” he said.

Stewart grinned and leaned over to whisper in Haskell’s ear. To my amusement, and Haskell’s no doubt chagrin, he blushed. He nodded and kept his gaze averted from the rest of us for a moment.

“Thank you, Haskell. I really would feel a lot safer having you in the house the next few days,” I said.

Diesel and Dante came back into the room. The poodle had calmed down a little. He was no longer hopping around Diesel, but he continued to gaze adoringly at his friend. Diesel ignored him and headed straight for Stewart.

“See, Haskell, Dante is thrilled to be spending time with Diesel,” Stewart said as he rubbed the cat’s head. “And Diesel is so happy to see his uncle Stewart, too, aren’t you, boy?”

Diesel recognized his cue and meowed and chirped in response. I saw one corner of Haskell’s mouth twitch. Even he wasn’t completely immune to Diesel.

“If there’s gonna be two more men for dinner,” Azalea announced, “I got me some cooking to do.” She shot pointed glances at Kanesha and me. “You got time to stay and eat?” This last was addressed to her daughter. “Be ready in about thirty minutes.”

Kanesha shook her head. “Thank you, Mama, but I’m due back at the department. Time to check on a few things. Charlie, would you mind seeing me out?” She nodded at Stewart and Haskell and headed out of the kitchen.