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

Diesel chirped away from his spot in the backseat of the car. I remembered that he seemed quite taken with Morty Cassity, and that was a good sign. Especially contrasted with his reaction to the sheriff. I wasn’t going to exculpate Morty in his wife’s death simply because my cat liked him, of course, but it was a definite mark in Morty’s favor.

I pondered my next move as we neared my house. What would Hercule Poirot or Miss Jane Marple do?

If Azalea was in the house, I would talk to her. After that, I wasn’t sure.

No signs of life as Diesel and I entered the kitchen. I checked the laundry room. No Azalea. I looked in the fridge, and it was fuller than it was at lunchtime, so she had at least come back from grocery shopping.

I went to the bottom of the stairs and called out her name.

No response.

Up to the second-floor landing, then, Diesel right alongside me. I called out again.

“What you need, Mr. Charlie?”

I glanced up to see Azalea’s head sticking over the railing on the third-floor landing.

“I need to talk to you for a minute. I’ll come up there,” I said.

“I done finished up here. Be right down.” Azalea brought the vacuum cleaner with her, puffing slightly from the weight of it.

I knew better than to try to take it from her, however. I’d made that mistake a couple of times before, right after I moved back to Athena, and my housekeeper had let me know in no uncertain terms that she didn’t need any help from me.

Perhaps today I should have risked it. Her face looked gray from tiredness, and she moved more slowly than usual. I remembered her saying how poorly she’d slept last night.

She stowed the vacuum cleaner in the closet where she kept extra cleaning supplies and then finally joined Diesel and me on the landing. “Yes, sir?”

“Just a quick question,” I said in a reassuring tone. “I forgot something when we talked this morning.”

Her lips tightened, but she nodded.

“I wanted to check. Did you tell the sheriff everything you told me? When he questioned you last night?”

“Yes, sir, I told that fool what he wanted to know.”

I noticed that she didn’t answer the exact question I’d posed, but I decided not to press her on it. Then I remembered there was something else I wanted to ask her.

“Sorry, Azalea, I just thought of one more thing. Do you know anything about the Hobson family? In particular Essie Mae Hobson? She was Vera Cassity’s mother.”

“No-account white trash,” Azalea sniffed. “Miss Essie Mae was a nice lady, but she sure married into a bad group of folks.”

“Do you know anything more about Essie Mae? Like who her people were, anything like that?”

Again, that fleeting second of hesitation before she responded. “No, sir, I sure don’t. Now, I got to get supper started.” She headed down the stairs.

TWENTY-THREE

Slightly stunned, I stood at the top of the stairs and watched Azalea go down. Why did I get the feeling that she was holding something back? Was my imagination working overtime?

“Come on, Diesel.” I went into my bedroom and closed the door after the cat walked in. He hopped up on the bed and settled down for a snooze. Right about now a nap would be nice, but I didn’t have the time.

I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled out my cell phone. Maybe Kanesha could dig up some information on Essie Mae Hobson. Once again I got voice mail. I let her know her mother’s response to the question of whether she had told the sheriff what she’d told me about Vera’s last moments. Then I related the incident just now and ended the call.

There was no point in my going back to the archives for the rest of the afternoon, but I felt at a loss over what to do next. I’d start looking in the Ducote papers for some mention of Essie Mae tomorrow.

I looked down at Diesel, comfortably stretched out and already asleep. All of a sudden I felt really tired. What the heck, I thought. I kicked off my shoes and stretched out right alongside the cat.

The ringing of my cell phone roused me sometime later. I checked my watch as I sat up and reached for the phone. I’d napped for nearly ninety minutes—it was almost four thirty. My brain felt a little foggy as I answered the call.

“Hello, honey,” Helen Louise said. “How about dinner tonight at my house? Diesel, too, of course. I feel like spending some time with my two favorite guys. I decided I can catch up on my sleep later.”

“Sounds good to me, although Diesel might have to check his social calendar.”

Helen Louise laughed. “See if he can manage to squeeze me in. About six thirty?”

“We’ll be there, as long as you’re sure you’re not going to be too tired.”

After reassuring me she’d be fine, Helen Louise rang off. I realized I needed to let Azalea know there would be one less for supper tonight.

When Diesel and I reached the kitchen, I discovered Azalea had left for the day. Supper was done, according to the tersely worded note I found. Everything was either in the oven or in the fridge.

Diesel suddenly shot off into the hall. He probably heard someone at the front door. I followed at a more leisurely pace, and Laura walked through the door moments later. “Hello, you sweet boy,” she said as she patted his head. “Hi, Dad. Isn’t it adorable how he always comes to meet me?” She came forward to kiss my cheek.

“You look familiar, young lady. Where have I seen you before?” I gazed at her sternly.

Laura giggled. “I haven’t been gone that much lately, have I? Sorry, Dad, all this business of grading exams and turning in the final grades for the semester has kept me hopping. But it’s all finally over.” She walked toward the kitchen, Diesel right by her side.

“Not to mention all the time making sure poor Frank isn’t too lonely.” I sighed. “It’s okay, I’m merely a father, and I’m used to my only daughter abandoning me. I’m much too dull, I know, whereas Frank…”

Laura punched me playfully on the shoulder. “Oh, you poor thing. So neglected. Well, you’ll be happy to know that I am yours for the whole evening.”

“Not this evening,” I said. “Diesel and I will be dining with Helen Louise.”

“You cad. Deserting me for the Other Woman.” Laura giggled again. “Two nights in a row with Helen Louise. What will the neighbors think?”

“The neighbors can mind their own business,” I said dryly, well aware of the irony of that statement.

Laura shot me a look that said she was aware of it, too. She fetched a can of diet soda from the fridge. “Want anything while I’m in here?”

“I’ll take one of those,” I said. Diesel chirped. “No,” I told him. “I draw the line at letting you drink anything with caffeine. You go have some water.”

After giving me an affronted look, he turned away, tail in the air, and headed for his water bowl in the utility room.

Laura and I laughed as we sat down at the table.

“I still can’t fully believe what happened at River Hill last night. How awful. Vera being killed so violently and poor Azalea, being locked in with the body like that. I hope she doesn’t have nightmares.” Laura shivered and a shadow crossed her face. I knew she was again reliving her own discovery of a dead body only a couple of months before. I also knew that while Laura and Sean had both inherited my love of mysteries, this last one hit far too close to home because Azalea was involved.

I brought her up to speed on all that had happened earlier in the day, and when I finished, she posed a question.

“Do you really think Azalea is holding out on you?”

“I think so, but it’s simply an impression.”

“Want me to try talking to her? I might be able to wheedle it out of her, whatever she’s not telling.” Laura looked eager. Her choice of Nancy Drew as a character for the gala was truly heartfelt, and as an actor, she could probably see herself in the role. Even though Azalea definitely had a soft spot for my beautiful daughter, I thought it best that Laura left this to me.