Миранда Джеймс - No Cats Allowed

He meowed reproachfully—that’s how it sounded to me—when I told him he couldn’t come with me. I almost changed my mind because of the sad look in his eyes, but then I steeled myself. “No, sweet boy, you need to stay here today. Tomorrow, you can come with me.” Surely this will all be over by then .

Melba was at her desk when I arrived. “Coffee’s made. I’ll get you a cup.”

I thanked her and went into my office. She had unlocked the door for me. Always thoughtful. I had to guard my tongue around her today, because I couldn’t tell her about Peter, not until the news was made public. She would be annoyed with me, but I had my orders. I set my briefcase down and logged in to the college network. On the way to work I had thought about the files Reilly had on that thumb drive. I hadn’t double-checked those yet, and I needed to see if there was something I missed.

Melba came in with my coffee while I was scanning the list of folders and files. She set the coffee down on the desk.

“Where’s Diesel? Surely you didn’t forget him?”

“No, I knew I was going to be really busy today, and I thought it was better for him to stay home with Azalea.”

“Well, I’ll miss him, but you’re probably right. I kept worrying yesterday he was going to slip out of the office, and I wouldn’t be able to find him.”

I looked up and nodded, smiling, then went back to staring at the screen.

“I never did finish telling you about me seeing Margie at the grocery store last night,” she said.

“No, you didn’t,” I replied. I knew I’d have to let her tell me the story or she’d be annoyed with me the rest of the day, if not the whole week. I kept my eyes on the computer screen, though.

“Margie’s always had a thing for jewelry. That’s one thing we have in common. Like me, though, she hasn’t had a lot of money to spend on it, although she has had a boyfriend for a long time. Never does talk about him, though. I don’t even know who he is.” She laughed. “Whoever he is, he must have a few bucks, because you should see the ring he gave her. She wasn’t going to let me look at it, but I made such a fuss when I saw it, she had to. It looks like it belongs in a museum, old-fashioned really, but gorgeous. This huge sapphire, surrounded by diamonds. Whoever the boyfriend is, it must be serious, let me tell you. Wish I had a man that would give me presents like that.”

I hadn’t really been paying close attention, trying instead to find out whether Reilly had had copies of the GER invoices on his thumb drive. Finally, however, a few words got through. Huge sapphire, surrounded by diamonds .

Surely not , I thought, as a memory surfaced.

I looked up at Melba. “I want to show you something. Come around here so you can see my computer screen.” I located the files of the jewelry pictures, and I clicked on the first one. I thought it was the sapphire ring, and it was.

“Did the ring Margie has look like this?”

“Exactly like it,” Melba said. “Where did you get a picture of it? I don’t understand.”

“All I can tell you at the moment is that I think the ring belonged to Reilly’s ex-wife. I don’t know how your friend got it, but I have to let Kanesha know about this.”

“Oh my Lord,” Melba said. She stumbled around the desk to a chair and sank into it. “Oh my Lord.”

“You can’t breathe a word of this. Don’t go near your friend today.” I speed-dialed Kanesha on my cell phone.

She picked up right away, and I related Melba’s story to her. “She works in the finance department. Accounts payable.” I paused for her reply. “Yes, it fits perfectly. The boyfriend is the obvious culprit, I think.”

I listened for a few moments longer, as Kanesha adjured me to stay in my office and out of the way. Things were going to start moving quickly, and she wanted me out of harm’s way.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m staying right here. You’re welcome to take the ball and run, run, run.” I ended the call.

“Charlie Harris, what in thunderation is going on?” Melba looked frightened.

“I’ll explain everything later, I promise. You’ll simply have to trust me for now.” I paused for a deep, steadying breath. I could feel my heart rate pick up. “Also, we both need to stay here in our offices until I hear back from Kanesha, okay?”

Melba now looked even more frightened. “Dang, I wish I’d brought my gun with me.”

“I don’t think you’ll need it,” I told her. “The campus police officer is still on duty.”

Melba expelled a pent-up breath. “Yes, thank the Lord, he is.” She rose on slightly shaky legs. “I reckon I ought to try to get a few things done. Holler if you need me.”

“You do the same. I won’t be going anywhere, except to the men’s room.” I smiled in an effort to lighten the tension.

She nodded and walked out of the office on legs that were no longer shaking.

I turned back to the computer screen and continued my search through Reilly’s files. It took me a few minutes, but I found the folder in which he had scanned copies of the GER purchase orders and invoices. I also found a brief document in the folder with several bullet points, the import of which was that this company needed to be vetted to make sure it was legitimate.

There was the proof that Reilly had at least been suspicious of these expenses.

I kept going through the folders and files, looking for any other indications that Reilly had found expenses he considered suspicious but came up with nothing. If there were other bogus items, he obviously hadn’t found them yet.

Over the next few hours, until I heard from Kanesha again, I thought off and on about Delbert Winston. I had a hard time seeing him as a cold-blooded killer. An embezzler, perhaps, but not a killer. He had to be the one, though. How else would Margie Flaxdale have ended up with the ex–Mrs. Reilly’s family heirloom? She had told Melba her boyfriend gave it to her, and Delbert was the only male among the three chief suspects.

When I finally did talk to Kanesha, I learned that Margie had lied to Melba about the boyfriend. There was no boyfriend.

There was, however, a girlfriend—Cassandra Brownley.

THIRTY-FIVE

On the Sunday after the arrests of Cassandra Brownley and Margie Flaxdale for the murders of Peter Vanderkeller, Oscar Reilly, and Porter Stanley, my family gathered at my house for our weekly meal. I had also invited Melba and Haskell Bates to dine with us. I knew everyone was curious about many of the details of the murder investigation, and I was prepared for a barrage of questions. I insisted, however, that the questions waited until we had finished our meal.

We adjourned to the living room, and everyone found a comfortable spot. Helen Louise sat beside me on the sofa, and Diesel stretched out over both our laps, his head resting against Helen Louise’s stomach. Dante, now full of turkey, zonked out in Stewart’s lap. I think we all felt a bit sleepy after a full and lively meal, but I had to concentrate to get my thoughts organized when I would rather be taking a nap.

“Did you suspect Cassandra Brownley all along, Dad?” Laura asked. “She sounds like a truly awful person, and a bully.”

“I did, though I tried not to let my dislike of her color my judgment,” I said. “She’s a bright woman, but she let her evaluation of her own intelligence unbalance her. She thought she could bulldoze her way over anyone who stood in her path.”

“She did do that for a long time,” Melba said. “Until Charlie got in her way. She finally met her match.” She chuckled.

“When Cassandra was first hired at Athena,” I said, “the director was elderly and, frankly, no longer really up to the job. The salaries for librarians were low, and Cassandra wasn’t happy. It wasn’t long before she came up with the scheme to embezzle from the library budget.”