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

“His whole image as a businessman is based on that kind of no-bull, down-to-earth talk. Haven’t you ever seen one of his commercials?”

“Probably.” I shrugged. “Frankly I don’t pay much attention to ads like that. I usually turn the sound off.”

“There isn’t any point to him acting grief stricken over Vera’s death. Everybody in town knows it wasn’t a happy marriage. Now, about my mother. Tell me again about the second talk you had with her.”

I did as she asked, and she listened, her eyes intent on my face.

“You think she knows something about Vera’s mother that she’s not telling? In addition to something she’s not telling about what she saw on the stairs last night?”

“Yes. It isn’t anything concrete, like I may have said to you before. I simply can’t shake the feeling that she’s holding back. In both instances.”

Kanesha shook her head. “And if she doesn’t want to tell you, she won’t. My mother could out-stubborn the stubbornest mule you ever met.”

“Laura wanted to try talking to her, but I discouraged her. One more person putting pressure on her to talk wouldn’t do any good, I think. It might make things worse.”

“I know Mama is pretty fond of your daughter, but the more you try to get Mama to do something, the less she’s inclined to do it. It’s best that Laura stays out of it.” Kanesha rose. “It’s bad enough that I had to involve you. I need to get home, so I won’t keep you any longer. Let me know anything you find out.”

“I will,” I said as I showed her to the front door. “I need to check the county and city records for anything regarding Essie Mae Hobson. But maybe it would be better if you did it.”

She paused on the doorstep. “No, it’s better if you do it. I need to keep my fingerprints off this investigation as much as possible, at least for now. The woman in the records office will help you. They get people looking in the records all the time, and she’s not going to think anything about your poking your nose in. Good night.” With that she turned and headed down the walk.

I waited until she reached her car before I closed the door and locked it.

The house was quiet as I climbed the stairs. It was only a quarter past nine, but I was more than ready for bed. There was no cat on the bed when I entered my room. Diesel was most likely with Laura. I left the door cracked so he could get in, whenever he deigned to join me for the night.

I dropped off to sleep quickly, too tired even to think much about the events of the past twenty-four hours. I awoke the next morning when the alarm went off. Diesel purred in my ear to make sure I didn’t try to roll over and go back to sleep.

Fat chance of that happening, not with a thirty-six-pound alarm clock always ready to pounce into action.

On the way downstairs about twenty minutes later I was surprised not to smell the usual odors of fresh biscuits and bacon or sausage wafting through the house. Surely Azalea was here. She had never missed a day since the day I moved in.

I found a note on the kitchen table. It informed me—in Azalea’s hand—that Azalea was unwell and couldn’t work today. Not a surprise, really. I thought she should have stayed home the day before, too, but she was too stubborn to give in. Today, though, it had all caught up with her. I hoped she took it easy and actually did rest at home, but I wouldn’t count on it.

Though I had the time, I didn’t feel like cooking a full breakfast. Instead I contented myself with cereal, toast, and some apple juice. It wouldn’t hurt me to miss one cholesterol-laden breakfast, that was for sure. I enjoyed the quiet as I read the paper, sipped my coffee, and finished my simple meal.

Diesel didn’t pester me for anything, once he realized there were no pancakes, bacon, or sausage to be had. He turned up his nose at mere wheat toast and bites of cereal.

As I was rinsing my dishes in the sink, Stewart bounced into the kitchen with a cheery “Good morning, Charlie. How’s my favorite landlord today?” He poured himself coffee, then leaned against the counter near me. His eyes sparkled with morning energy, and he grinned broadly between sips of coffee.

He could be annoyingly like Tigger on occasion, a little too perky and awake in the mornings, but I tried not to hold that against him. “Doing fine, I guess. How about you?” I dried my hands on a towel before I faced him.

“Excellent,” he replied. He set his coffee cup down on the counter in order to rub Diesel’s head with both hands. The cat rewarded him with happy chirps, and Stewart talked nonsense to him for a moment. Then he regarded me again as Diesel rubbed against his jean-clad legs. “No Azalea today? If I’d known that, I could have made breakfast for us.”

“No, she won’t be here,” I said. “I couldn’t believe she was here yesterday, after all the stress of the night before. But I guess it finally caught up with her, and she decided she’d better take it easy today.”

Stewart grimaced as he topped up his coffee. “I still can’t believe that someone finally did Vera in. It’s amazing to me that she lasted this long, frankly, but why now? What did she do to push someone over the edge?”

I frowned at his poor choice of words, and he shrugged. “You know what I mean.”

“Unfortunately, I do.” I sighed. “You’re right, though. Whoever pushed Vera down those stairs must have reached the point of desperation. But who was it?”

“I can think of several candidates, but I can’t imagine which of them would actually hit the breaking point and kill.” Stewart set his coffee down and moved to the fridge where he extracted eggs, milk, and cheese. “How about a little more breakfast?”

“Thanks, but I’ve had enough,” I said. “Time to get ready for work. What are you up to today?”

“Not much of anything,” he replied with evident satisfaction. “The semester is over, and Stewart is going to be a bum.”

Diesel and I left him to his breakfast preparations and headed up the stairs.

By the time I was ready to leave for the library, Stewart had disappeared, and no one else had come downstairs. Laura and Justin were probably sleeping in, now that the semester was officially finished. I wondered idly where Sean was, because I’d expected him to be down for breakfast. I had a sneaking suspicion his bed hadn’t been slept in. He was spending more and more time with Alexandra at her house, including a few nights.

The weather had turned colder overnight, but was still bearable. Diesel seemed unaffected by it, though I feared his feet might get too cold. Today was my last in the office, because the library would be closed the next two weeks for the holidays and the semester break. I was looking forward to the time off.

Diesel settled down happily in his window aerie, and I put away my things before firing up the computer. I’d barely sat down and begun to check e-mail, however, when I heard a knock on my open door.

I turned to see Miss An’gel and Miss Dickce standing there. I rose. “Good morning, ladies. What a pleasant surprise.” What do they want now? I wondered. Were they going to drop by every day until the case was solved? Not that I minded seeing them, of course, but they did require a high level of mental energy.

“Morning, Charlie.” Miss An’gel beamed at me as she approached the desk and took the same seat she’d sat in the previous morning. Miss Dickce smiled and sat down beside her.

Before they even had time to make themselves comfortable, Diesel stood between them, looking back and forth to see which of them would pay attention to him first.

I allowed them a few moments to adore the cat before I spoke. “What can I do for you? I should have let you know yesterday afternoon, but I’m afraid I forgot. I did return the plaque to Morty Cassity as you requested.”