James, Miranda - Out of Circulation (CAT IN THE STACKS MYSTERY)

Miss An’gel must have sensed my concern. “Pay no mind to us, Charlie. This is what comes of two old maids knocking about in a big house like this for decades on end.” She cut a sideways glance at her sister.

Miss Dickce took the cue and nodded. “Oh, yes, Sister and I have a fine old time pointing out each other’s foibles and follies. But we didn’t invite you here to put on a show.” She giggled, looking suddenly twenty years younger.

I wasn’t quite sure what to say, but Diesel saved me from having to reply right away. His continued vocalizing made the Misses Ducote laugh, and that gave me a few seconds more. “I’ve seen siblings, um, have differing opinions before. My son and daughter have the occasional disagreement.”

“Tactful, too,” Miss Dickce murmured.

Her sister ignored her. “We want to assure you, Charlie, that you don’t have to worry about Vera. We still have to deal with her over the gala, of course, but all the arrangements are well in hand. There’s not much Vera can do to upset them at this point.”

Despite Miss An’gel’s assurances, I wasn’t convinced that Vera could be dismissed that easily. In the long run, though, I would put my money on the Misses Ducote to triumph in any contest with her.

“I’m relieved to hear that, Miss An’gel,” I said. “I’m looking forward to the gala. River Hill is such a lovely setting for an event like that.”

The sisters beamed with pride. “Yes, it is. We’ve been so fortunate to call it home these many years.” Miss An’gel paused. “And you’ll forgive me if I don’t say exactly how many years that is.”

We all shared a smile, and I sneaked a glance at my watch. It was nearly four thirty now, and I should head home soon to help with dinner.

“We’re so pleased you had time to visit this afternoon.” Miss Dickce scratched Diesel’s head. “Both of you. And once the gala is over, you two mustn’t be strangers here.”

“No, indeed.” Miss An’gel rubbed down Diesel’s spine, and the cat’s expression betrayed utter bliss at such attention. I’d have a hard time getting him off that sofa as long as the sisters were petting him.

“Next time you must bring your daughter and son,” Miss An’gel continued. “Q.C. tells us Sean is an outstanding young man, and I do believe he thinks there is a faint sound of wedding bells in the air.”

Before I could respond, Miss Dickce said, “And I would dearly love to hear about Laura’s experiences in Hollywood.”

“She’d be delighted to talk to you about them,” I said. “Sean is very fond of Alexandra, I know, but if they have any plans for marriage, they haven’t shared them with me.” I smiled. “But I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Mr. Pendergrast is right.”

The sisters nodded as I continued, “Diesel and I both have enjoyed this tremendously, and please express my compliments to Clementine for her wonderful cookies.” I rose. “We mustn’t impose on you any longer, though. It’s time we headed home to help with dinner.”

Miss An’gel stood, and I tried not to wince at the sight of a clump of cat hair on her skirt. She appeared serenely unaware of it. “Of course, Charlie. Thank you again for sharing tea with us.” She stepped forward as her sister gently disengaged herself from Diesel and rose from the sofa.

“Come along, Diesel.” I held out my hand, and after a brief hesitation the cat stepped off the sofa and came to me. I patted his head before we followed the sisters to the front door.

“Miss An’gel, telephone.” Clementine’s voice sounded from behind us.

“In a moment,” Miss An’gel called back. She took my hand and gave it a firm squeeze. “We’ll see you again soon. Now, please excuse me, I must go answer that call.”

I bade her good-bye, and Miss Dickce shook my hand and added her own farewell. “Don’t worry anymore about Vera.”

I assured her I wouldn’t. Diesel and I headed for the car and were soon en route homeward.

The grandfather clock in the front hall was chiming five as Diesel and I entered the kitchen from the garage. Enticing aromas eddied through the air, and my nose took notice. Despite my consumption of several of Clementine’s oatmeal cookies, I felt hungry. The smell of lasagna often did that.

“Hi, Dad.” Laura came to greet me with a kiss on the cheek and a hug. “Where have you and Diesel been?”

“Didn’t you see the note I left?” I frowned. “I stuck it on the fridge.”

Laura laughed, a throaty, infectious sound. “Yes, I did. But all it said was ‘Gone to tea. Back around five.’ I’ve been dying of curiosity ever since.”

“Sorry, I thought I said where we were going.” I loosened my tie and unbuttoned the top button. “Ah, that’s better. Diesel and I have been at River Hill having tea with the Misses Ducote.”

“Oh, do tell.” Laura’s eyes lit up. “You’ll have to fill me in on it. I can’t wait to see the house. All I’ve seen are pictures of the exterior, and it’s gorgeous.”

“You’ll see inside it soon enough. The gala’s only four days away now.” I shrugged off my jacket and folded it over my arm. “The house is every bit as beautiful inside as it is outside. At least the areas I saw were, the entryway and the front parlor. Antiques, portraits, and so on. A real showplace.”

“The gala will be such a hoot.” Laura went back to the oven and peered through the glass. “I think this needs another fifteen or twenty minutes.”

“Good. Then I have time to go upstairs and change out of my Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes.”

“Aw, you look so handsome and distinguished in that suit, Dad.” Laura pouted. “Don’t come back looking all scruffy.”

I offered her a mock-severe frown. “Young lady, I’ll have you know I’ve never been scruffy in my life. Well, at least not since I was about ten, anyway.”

Laura laughed again. “I know, I’ve seen Aunt Dottie’s pictures. You could be quite the dirty little piglet sometimes.”

“None of your sass, now.” I grinned as I recalled one picture in particular. I was dirt-splattered from making mud pies in Aunt Dottie’s backyard. My aunt snorted with laughter, then ran for her camera. Much to my chagrin in later years, she often pulled out that shot to show friends and family.

“I promise to be presentable,” I said as I headed for the stairs.

Laura arched an eyebrow. “You’d better be. Don’t forget, Helen Louise is coming to dinner.”

Hoping against hope that I wasn’t blushing, I scooted for the stairs. Behind me I heard Laura talking to Diesel and promising him some tidbits at dinner.

I hadn’t forgotten that Helen Louise was coming to dinner, but Laura’s reminder prompted me to think more carefully about my change of clothes. I put my suit away, kept the white shirt on, and slipped into dark pants. I added a light cotton sweater, a deep emerald green, which had been a birthday present from Helen Louise. She loved the color, and I knew she’d enjoy seeing me wear her gift.

Downstairs again I found Sean and Diesel with Laura in the kitchen. Sean had his hands in the salad bowl, tearing lettuce. My big helpful kitty kept a close eye on Laura as she put a tray of garlic bread into the oven to warm. He meowed as the bread disappeared and moved anxiously closer as Laura shut the door.

“It will come out all nice and toasty,” Laura assured the cat, “and I’ll make sure you have a few bites.”

I cleared my throat, and Laura started. She flashed me a guilty smile. “That is, if Dad says it’s okay.”

“He’s already had some nice extra treats today, courtesy of the Ducote sisters.” I put on a stern expression, then spoiled it with a chuckle. “But you can give him two small—very small—pinches of garlic bread.”