Miranda James - The Silence of the Library

Here are a few websites I have found consistently helpful:

Nancy Drew Sleuths: nancydrewsleuth.com

Girls Series books: series-books.blogspot.com

Stratemeyer Syndicate, etc.: keeline.com

Judy Bolton: judybolton.com

Hardy Boys: hardyboysonline.net

There are many more useful sites out there. Use your favorite Internet search engine, and start surfing.

For those readers who would like to read the rest of Veronica Thane’s first adventure, The Mystery at Spellwood Mansion , go to my website, catinthestacks.com, for the full text. I had a lot of fun writing it, and I hope you will enjoy it, too!

Dear Reader,

Last year, when I was asked to join the board of the Friends of the Athena Public Library, I had little idea what excitement lay ahead. The annual holiday gala was a rousing success—despite the murder.

Two of the board members are the doyennes of Athena Society—Miss An’gel and Miss Dickce Ducote. I grew up hearing about them frequently, though our paths never crossed until I joined the board. I occasionally spotted them around town, but my family did not move in the same social circles. The Ducotes were among the original founders of Athena before the Civil War, and they have been leading citizens ever since.

I was prepared to be thoroughly intimidated when I finally met them—and I was, briefly—but their warmth and charm soon put me at ease. Diesel adored them right away, and they in turn appeared enamored of him. Miss An’gel doesn’t tolerate fools, nor does her younger sister, but they are the heart of all charitable activities in Athena. Bigger hearts you’ll never find.

When Helen Louise and I, along with my children, their partners, and our friend Stewart Delacorte, decided to vacation in Europe over the summer, I was in a quandary over what to do with Diesel. He obviously couldn’t travel with us, and I knew my housekeeper, Azalea Berry, wouldn’t relish the task of caring for him for three weeks. I happened to mention my dilemma during a conversation with the Ducote sisters one day at the library, and Miss An’gel insisted that she and Miss Dickce would be delighted to have Diesel as their guest. Diesel immediately spoke up—he warbled loudly—and that settled it. I knew the sisters would care for him and that he would be happy.

What I didn’t count on, naturally, was that the sisters would become involved in another murder while I was out of the country. In Bless Her Dead Little Heart, you can find out exactly what happened. I was just happy to be enjoying myself in Paris, completely unaware of it all.

Continue reading for a special excerpt of Bless Her Dead Little Heart.

Sincerely,

Charlie Harris

Miss An’gel Ducote fixed her houseguest with a gimlet eye. “I expect you to behave like a proper gentleman while you’re here.”

Diesel Harris regarded his hostess unblinkingly for a moment before he meowed.

Miss Dickce Ducote snorted with laughter. “Good gracious, Sister, you don’t need to lecture him on how to conduct himself. Diesel has better manners than some of the two-legged fools who’ve set foot in Riverhill.”

“True.” Miss An’gel pursed her lips as she continued to regard the large Maine Coon cat. “He is in unfamiliar surroundings, though, and I’ve heard that cats don’t like change. He might be upset because Charlie and the rest of the family have gone off and left him.” She pointed to the elderly Aubusson carpet that covered a third of their front parlor. “I’m not sure this can withstand accidents, if you know what I mean.”

“Really, An’gel.” Dickce shook her head. “Diesel is a smart kitty. He already knows where we put his litter box. He’s not going to make a mess on one of our priceless antiques.”

“That’s all well and good.” An’gel glared at her sister, the younger by almost four years. “Even if his bathroom habits are impeccable, what shall we do if he starts clawing the furniture?”

“If you were this worried about the contents of the house, why did you ever agree to keep Diesel?” Dickce glared right back. “Frankly, I seem to recall that you volunteered to cat-sit. Charlie never once opened his mouth to ask you. In fact, he looked mighty startled when you said we’d be delighted , though he’s such a gentleman he hid it immediately.” She sat back, arms folded over her chest, and waited.

There was no arguing with Dickce when she was in one of her contrary moods. An’gel suppressed a sigh as she threw up her hands in mock surrender. Before she could speak, Diesel warbled loudly and placed his large right front paw on her knee. An’gel stared down into the cat’s eyes, and she would have sworn he was trying to reassure her.

Dickce pointed at the Maine Coon. “See? He’s telling you he’s going to be extra-special good.”

The triumphant note in Dickce’s voice irritated An’gel, but she pretended it didn’t. Instead she stroked the cat’s head and told him twice she knew he was a good boy.

“Come sit with me, Diesel.” Dickce patted the sofa cushion beside her. “You can stretch out and nap with your aunt Dickce.”

Diesel pawed at An’gel’s knee again and meowed. He gazed up at her, and she had the oddest feeling that he was asking her permission. At least the cat was smart enough to know who was really in charge here. “Go ahead, it’s fine with me.”

The cat blinked at her before he turned to amble over to the sofa. He jumped up beside Dickce and settled himself with his head and front legs in her lap. Dickce stroked him and grinned at her sister when Diesel started to purr loudly.

An’gel picked up her glass of sweet tea and sipped at it. There was nothing better during the dog days of summer. Their housekeeper, Clementine, made the best sweet tea in Athena County, if not in the whole state of Mississippi. “The only reason I’m glad to see August come around every year is the fact that we don’t have any committee meetings to attend, any garden club functions to arrange, or any other social commitments. It’s nice to have a vacation.”

“It sure is.” Dickce nodded. “I keep thinking we ought to retire and live a quieter life, but I know we’d both be bored and ready to strangle each other in a month or two.”

“Besides, you know as well as I do that no one else will keep things organized and running the way we can.” An’gel shook her head. “If the community had to pay someone to do what we do, the town couldn’t afford it.”

Dickce frowned. “Did you hear that? Sounded like a car drove up just now.”

“I heard it.” An’gel stood. “We weren’t expecting visitors this afternoon. I’m not in the mood to entertain.”

“Tell whoever it is to go away.” Dickce yawned. “I think I’d like to go upstairs for a nap.”

An’gel strode to the front window and pulled the heavy red damask drapes aside to peer through the window. “I don’t recognize the car, and I can’t see who’s driving. Clementine is probably napping now herself. I’ll go.”

The bell sounded before An’gel reached the door. She opened it to find a woman about her own age standing there, finger on the bell, poised to ring it again. Her hair was an unnatural shade of red, and her face was devoid of makeup. She didn’t look like a salesperson, but she did seem vaguely familiar.

“Good afternoon. What can I do for you?”

Startled, the woman took a step back. “My goodness. An’gel, it’s you, isn’t it? I never expected you to answer the door.” She smiled. “Aren’t you going to ask me in?”

An’gel peered at the woman’s face as she tried to recall who she was. Recognition dawned, along with the first stirring of dismay. What on earth was Rosabelle Sultan doing here?