Claws For Concern

SEVEN

Murder as a hobby? Those words took me aback. I wasn’t quite sure how to respond to Ernie’s comment. Apparently my expression revealed my confusion.

“Sorry, Charlie.” Ernie frowned. “I didn’t mean that to be as crass as it probably sounded. I’m afraid I tend to have a rather dark sense of humor, and it doesn’t always translate well.”

I nodded to acknowledge that I understood.

She continued, “Like you, I have a few times found myself involved in murder investigations, but not by choice.”

I smiled. “I didn’t choose to be associated with any of the murders, but generally I didn’t see much of an alternative.”

“Exactly,” Ernie replied, looking relieved. “That’s what happened to Wanda Nell and Jack, too, and I tell you this because I think it will help you see that Jack understands your experiences much better than another writer might.”

“I see your point,” I said. “My main concern is privacy. I prefer to remain out of the limelight. The credit really goes to our local sheriff’s department, namely the chief deputy, Kanesha Berry. She’s a remarkable woman.”

Ernie gazed at me, her expression skeptical. “I suspect you’re being far too modest, Charlie, but let’s leave it at that. I imagine Jack will want to interview Chief Deputy Berry, but his interest is more in the amateurs who find themselves involved in these cases.”

“I’m willing to talk to him to explore the possibility,” I said. “I have to be honest, though. On the whole, I think I’m still inclined to keep my accidental sleuthing activities out of the public eye.” I decided not to mention to Ernie that the local newspaper had thus far been circumspect about not including my name in articles about homicides in Athena the past several years. That was thanks to the reporter Ray Appleby. He had managed to enhance his own reputation, thanks to me, because Kanesha gave him exclusives on the cases. They both won acclaim, and I got to stay behind the scenes—exactly as I preferred. And now I was considering stepping into the public eye. Was I really ready for that?

Ernie regarded me, her eyes narrowed, and I began to feel uncomfortable. She didn’t appear pleased with me.

“Frankly, I think you aren’t quite ready to talk to Jack yet, Charlie.” Her expression softened. “Even though you just said you are willing, I don’t think you’re comfortable with that decision. Am I right?”

She had read me well. I nodded. “You’re right. I’m still uneasy at the thought of being in the public eye suddenly.”

Ernie chuckled, and that surprised me. “We’re back to the beginning, then. When I get back to Tullahoma, I can tell Jack that I met you and explain how you feel. He will probably try again, however, to persuade you.”

“That’s okay,” I said. “In the meantime I’ll think about it, and I might come to feel differently.”

“No harm done either way,” Ernie said.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t worry.” Ernie flashed a smile before she focused her attention on the conversation going on across the coffee table.

I leaned back and let the conversation flow around me. I soon became engrossed in my own thoughts. I felt relieved that Ernie understood my hesitation, but underneath I felt foolish. Surely I was old enough by now to know my own mind? Why was I having trouble making a firm decision?

Perhaps subconsciously I wanted the attention that would come if the public knew more about my role in the investigations in which I had assisted. Had I been hoping for that all along? Had I been suppressing a desire for acclaim?

Much of this indecision had to do with my upbringing. My parents had always been proud of my achievements. I had made good grades in school and had graduated second in my high school class. I had even acquitted myself well in sports, though I never had the talent to play beyond high school. My parents had taught me that a gentleman, a man of honor, doesn’t push himself forward in order to get attention. His behavior and his deeds should speak for themselves. A man who goes around calling attention to himself, seeking glory, is no gentleman. And to my parents, not being a gentleman was a bad thing indeed.

I had instilled the same beliefs in my children, and I found it somewhat ironic that my daughter had chosen to be an actress. Laura hadn’t performed simply for the sake of attention, I knew. She loved the art and the craft of assuming a role and bringing that character to life. If she had valued empty attention and accolades beyond other things, she never would have decided to become a teacher and stay in Athena with her husband to raise a family.

Sean was thriving as a small-town lawyer. He had quickly come to hate practicing corporate law in Houston. Here in Athena he knew he was helping people who needed honest legal counsel, not a huge corporation, and that brought him great satisfaction. I was proud of him for his dedication to his work and to his family.

Helen Louise called me out of my reverie, and I became aware that Clementine, the Ducotes’ housekeeper, stood by me with a tray of cake and cookies.

“I’m sorry, Clementine.” I picked up a dessert plate from the tray and helped myself to a small slice of cheesecake and two chocolate chip cookies. “I was off in my own little world.” That is an understatement, I thought. The way my mind meandered these days surprised me, hopping from one thought to the next like a frog in a jumping contest.

Clementine chuckled. “Not to worry. You just enjoy.” She set the dessert tray down on the coffee table and picked up the tea tray. “I’ll be back with more tea in a minute.”

“Thank you, Clementine,” Miss An’gel said. “Now, Charlie, what had you looking so perturbed? I wish you could have seen the frown you were giving us.”

“Looked awful serious to me,” Miss Dickce said. “Whatever it was.”

“My apologies, ladies.” I glanced at Helen Louise and could see she was holding back a smile. I figured she knew what I had been fretting over. “I hope I didn’t alarm you. I was simply thinking about, well . . .” I paused for a moment as I sought the best way to express myself without being overly personal. “About having been raised by my parents to be reticent about certain things.”

“Behaving like a gentleman, in other words, and not putting yourself forward unnecessarily,” Ernie said.

She was a bit unnerving, I decided, the way she could read my thoughts, not to mention the way she cut right to the heart of things. I nodded. “More or less.”

“Nothing wrong with that.” Miss An’gel sniffed. “Far too many people these days have no concept of manners or decent behavior.”

“And far too many other people think it’s their business what everyone else is doing,” Miss Dickce said.

“That’s how small towns work and probably always have.” Helen Louise smiled as she reached for a cookie from the dessert tray.

Diesel, who had been extraordinarily quiet for several minutes now, must have decided to add his thoughts to the conversation right then. He sat up and emitted a couple of loud meows, followed by a trill. Then he went back to his relaxed position on the rug, having had his say.

Miss An’gel and Miss Dickce exchanged amused looks, while Ernie Carpenter laughed aloud. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard a cat talk like that before. I’m sure he was agreeing with y’all.”

“He usually has to put in his two meows’ worth.” I grinned and shook my head.

Miss An’gel, perhaps sensing my discomfort at having the conversation focused on me, changed the subject. “Speaking of gentlemen, Ernie, didn’t you tell us that young cousin of yours, Andy, I believe, has recently published a book?”

“He certainly has,” Ernie said. “His dissertation has been published.” She glanced at me, then at Helen Louise. “He has a doctorate in medieval history, and he and his partner live in Houston where they both teach. I don’t have a copy of the book yet, but I’m heading to Houston soon for a visit and will get one while I’m there.”

Helen Louise and I both said the appropriate things, and Ernie and the Ducotes talked about cousin Andy and his book for a few minutes. I noticed Helen Louise glance at her watch a couple of times, and I got the signal. Time for us to be going.

When a lull came in the conversation, I explained that we must be heading out. I thanked the sisters, as did Helen Louise, and expressed delight again at having met Ernie Carpenter. A few minutes later, after Diesel had been appropriately noticed and petted, the three of us headed for the car and drove back home.

We had barely reached the end of the long driveway at Riverhill before Helen Louise brought up the subject that had been exercising my mind most of the afternoon.

“You’ve been having second thoughts about being a part of this book,” she said.

“Second, third, fourth, and so on,” I said. “I thought that talking to Miss Carpenter and hearing more about the writer would help me make up my mind to go ahead with it, but I keep shying away from it.”

“Because of the way you were raised,” Helen Louise said. “I understand that, believe me. My parents were the same way.”

“So what should I do?”

“I think you should go ahead and talk to the writer,” she replied. “If you don’t, you’ll always wonder. Besides, he could go ahead with the project without your permission. If he really wants to, he can find away around it.”

“And then I would find myself in the invidious position of being damned if I do or don’t,” I said. “Take legal action to stop him, thereby bringing the attention upon myself that I didn’t want in the first place.”

“Yes, I’m afraid so.” Helen Louise’s tone expressed her sympathy for my position.

I sighed. “I guess I’ll e-mail him and tell him I’m willing to meet with him, then.”

“It will all work out okay,” Helen Louise said. “Ernie Carpenter seems to think a lot of him, and Miss An’gel and Miss Dickce obviously have great affection and respect for Ernie. We both have tremendous respect for the Ducote sisters and their intelligence. So, if you follow my chain of reasoning, Jack Pemberton ought to be a stand-up kind of guy.”

“I don’t think that reasoning would hold up in court,” I said. “But for now I guess I’m going to have to believe that you’re right.”

My parents would have understood that reasoning, and for the most part I did, too. I had to hope that Jack Pemberton, via Ernie, via the Ducote sisters, didn’t put the lie to it.