Miranda James - Classified as Murder

“That makes sense,” Sean said. He turned back to the shelf.

I called out the next title, and then we heard a knock at the door.

Bates answered it, but I wasn’t paying much attention, being more focused on the task at hand.

The high-pitched tones of Eloise Morris’s voice caught my ear, however, and I turned to see her standing in the doorway. Bates hovered over her with a puzzled expression. Since she was in one of her antebellum gowns, I could understand his confusion.

Then I noticed what she was holding.

It looked like the missing volume of the inventory.

TWENTY-FOUR

“This belongs to Uncle James,” Eloise said. “I know he wants it back.” She gazed up at Deputy Bates. “Why won’t you let me give it back?”

“Well, ma’am,” Bates said, “I don’t rightly know how to tell you this, but . . .”

“Hold on, Deputy,” I said.

“Sure,” Bates said. He appeared relieved that I chose to intervene.

I set down the inventory book I held and moved at a deliberate pace toward Eloise. I stopped about a foot in front of her, and she stared at me for a moment. Then she gave me a tentative smile.

“You look nice,” she said. “I’ve met you before, haven’t I?”

“Yes, we’ve met a couple of times. Perhaps I can help,” I said. “I’ll be happy to take the book for you.”

“Uncle James likes you.” Eloise still smiled. “You came to tea.”

“Yes, I did,” I said. “How kind of you to remember me.” I held out my hands, encased in the protective cotton gloves I wore.

Eloise glanced at my hands and giggled. “You’re wearing gloves, too.”

I hadn’t noticed until now that she wore delicate lace gloves. “Yes, I am. It’s the proper thing to do, isn’t it, when one goes calling.”

Eloise nodded solemnly. “Yes, it is.” Then she attempted to peer around me. “Uncle James isn’t at his desk.”

“No, he stepped away for a few minutes.” I paused for a breath, feeling suddenly nervous. “I’ll be happy to give him the book for you, if you’d like.”

She pondered that for a moment, then thrust the book at me. “He likes you, so it’s okay. He doesn’t like some people. He doesn’t want them playing with his books.”

“No, he doesn’t,” I said as I clutched the book.

“He especially doesn’t want Hubert to play with them.” Eloise sniffed. “Hubert messes up everything.”

“That’s too bad,” I replied. This reference to her husband intrigued me. “Was Hubert playing with this book?”

Eloise blinked at me. “Uncle James loves cookies, just like me. He eats a lot of them.” She glanced at the desk. “Look, the ones I left for him are all gone. I think I’ll ask Truesdale for more. Maybe this time I can have some, too.” Then she whirled and disappeared through the open doorway.

I thought about going after her but decided that it would probably be like trying to pin a raindrop to the wall.

Bates closed the door and then turned to me with a look of admiration. “Man, you handled her good. I wasn’t too sure what to say to her.”

“Yeah, Dad,” Sean said. “She really is around the bend. She doesn’t even know her uncle is dead.”

The lucid part of Eloise knew, because I had told her. But I wondered how often the lucid Eloise put in an appearance.

I glanced down at the book in my hands. “We need to let Deputy Berry know this has turned up. Lord knows where Eloise found it, but I’m sure Kanesha will want to have it checked for fingerprints.”

Bates whipped out his cell phone and punched a number. I went to the desk and put volume four of the inventory down. I was itching to open it and find out if there was an entry for Tamerlane , but I didn’t dare. That would have to wait until Kanesha was present.

I stared down at the book on the desk, lost in thought as I picked back over the brief but odd conversation with Eloise. Did her mention of Hubert mean that she found the missing book among his things? Or was it simple rambling, like most of Eloise’s conversation appeared to be?

That was something Kanesha would have to follow up on, I decided.

“She’s heading this way,” Bates said as he snapped his phone shut.

I was about to comment when the deputy stiffened and held up his hand. “You hear that? Sounded like a scream.”

He whirled and was out the door before I could frame a reply. Sean brushed past me and went after the deputy. I glanced over at Diesel, and he was sitting up and staring toward the door.

“Come on, boy; let’s go see what’s going on.” I headed after Sean and the deputy. I made sure Diesel was behind me as we approached the front of the house. I heard the ruckus now. A woman whimpered while a man yelled.

When I reached the foot of the stairs, I looked up. Deputy Bates had a firm hold on Hubert Morris, who struggled to pull free. The deputy outweighed Hubert by at least thirty pounds of muscle, so Hubert wasn’t going anywhere. He continued to yell at his wife, who cowered in my son’s arms.

“How many times have I told you to stay out of other people’s rooms? Stupid, stupid, crazy idiot.” Everything Hubert yelled was some variation of those words.

“Quiet!” Sean and Deputy Bates roared in unison.

The word reverberated up and down the stairs and through the hall.

Hubert was apparently so startled that he shut up.

“And stay that way.” Bates growled in Hubert’s ear before he practically carried him down the stairs to where Diesel and I stood.

My poor cat had scrunched up against my legs as hard as he could, and I squatted down to reassure him. I didn’t like this yelling any more than he did.

When I looked up again, Sean was carrying Eloise up the stairs to her room, I guessed. She was no longer whimpering, and that had to be a good sign. I hoped she would recover quickly from Hubert’s verbal assault.

At least, I hoped it was only verbal.

I stood and examined Hubert, still in the deputy’s strong grip. “What was that all about?” I asked.

The doorbell rang, and Bates indicated that I should answer it. He had made no move to release Hubert.

I opened the door to Kanesha Berry. “Afternoon, Mr. Harris,” she said as she stepped into the hall.

I returned the greeting, but I didn’t think she heard me.

“Tell this gorilla to let go of me.” Hubert sounded on the edge of hysteria. “I’m going to sue the sheriff’s department for brutality. Let go of me.” He twisted hard, but Bates held on to him.

Kanesha addressed her subordinate, her voice sharp. “What’s going on here, Bates?”

“Mr. Morris here was assaulting his wife on the stairs up there,” Bates said, his expression stony. “I intervened, and I kept him in my custody until you arrived, ma’am.”

“Let him go, Bates,” Kanesha said. “No, Mr. Morris, you’re not going anywhere.”

Hubert stopped in his tracks and turned back to face Kanesha. “I was not assaulting my wife, I assure you. I will admit I was yelling at her, but I didn’t strike her.”

“Then why was she holding her left cheek and saying, ‘Don’t hit me again, please don’t hit me again’ when I found you two on the stairs? And why was she screaming?” Bates glowered at Hubert, who shrank away from him.

“Answer the questions, Mr. Morris.” Kanesha stared hard at Hubert. She seemed to have forgotten my presence altogether. “Now. Unless you’d prefer to go down to the sheriff’s department and answer them there.”

Hubert licked his lips, and his eyes darted back and forth from one deputy to the other. “I guess maybe I did slap her,” he finally said, his voice hoarse. “But, my lord, Eloise is so crazy, sometimes the only way you can get any sense out of her is to, um . . .” He trailed off.