Out of Circulation (CAT IN THE STACKS MYSTERY)

THREE

“Hank, come back here,” Sissy called out to her brother, but he didn’t falter. Throwing an apologetic glance at Helen Louise and then at me, Sissy scurried after Hank. The door clanged shut behind her.

Helen Louise shrugged and punched a couple of buttons on her cash register. She strolled back to the table and resumed her seat.

“What was all that about?” I asked. Diesel chirped several times as if to indicate he wanted an answer as well. I rubbed his head, and he quieted.

An excited babble of voices startled both of us before Helen Louise could answer my question. She turned as I looked past her toward the door. A group of eight young women poured inside, all talking at once. The din struck my ears and made me wince. Diesel hunched against my legs, frightened by the clamor.

Helen Louise offered a wry smile as she stood. “Sorority sisters in desperate search of sugar and chocolate. Sorry, my dear, I have to get back to work.” She leaned down and gave me a quick kiss.

“Okay, we’ll talk later.” I wanted to hold her for a moment, but I didn’t get to my feet in time. She darted behind the counter and attempted to dim the roar to a more acceptable level.

“Come on, boy.” I rubbed the cat’s head. “Let’s go home.”

Diesel couldn’t get out the door and into the car fast enough. As I drove I considered the reasons for Hank Beauchamp’s less than gentlemanly behavior, but I reached no conclusions by the time I pulled the car into the garage.

Once inside Diesel headed straight for the utility room and his litter box. I let the peace of the house settle around me as I gazed at the empty kitchen. More than likely Diesel and I had the house to ourselves, except for Stewart Delacorte in his aerie on the third floor. I’d spotted the lights in his rooms as I drove in.

Justin Wardlaw, my other boarder, was probably still on campus, studying with friends in the library. Final exams loomed as the semester drew to a close, and Justin always made sure he was prepared.

Sean had told me earlier that he had plans for dinner tonight with Alexandra Pendergrast. I had to smile, thinking back to the first time Sean and Alexandra met, over the Delacorte business. The sparks flew that day, Sean sure that he didn’t like Alexandra in the least. Now he thought and spoke of little else, much as I’d expected. Alexandra was beautiful, intelligent, and more than a match for my temperamental, brilliant son. I expected to hear news of an engagement any day now.

Laura spent most of her free time with her beau, Frank Salisbury, a colleague from the theater department at Athena College. As the semester drew to a close, so did Laura’s temporary job. The professor for whom she had substituted this semester came back from maternity leave in January, and Laura planned to return to Los Angeles and her acting career. At least, that was the original plan. Frank no doubt had something to say about that. He would either have to follow my daughter to Hollywood or persuade her to remain here. If I had a say in the matter, I hoped Frank could talk Laura into staying in Athena. Having her at home with Sean and me these past few months made me happy, and I would miss her even more keenly if she went back to California.

Diesel would miss her dreadfully as well. I remained his favorite human, but Laura ran a close second. She always made a fuss over him, and he loved the attention.

I sighed as Diesel ambled into the kitchen, warbling away. I poured myself a glass of cold water from the fridge, and Diesel continued chatting to me as I leaned against the counter and drank.

Christmas was little more than two weeks away, and I was thrilled that the people I cared most about in this world would all be here for it. Thanksgiving had been truly special for that same reason, and I offered up more than one fervent prayer that I could keep them all around me. I even felt the presence of my departed loved ones—my wife, Jackie, and my aunt Dottie—close by. That was as it should be.

As Diesel and I settled down in bed a short while later, I returned to the puzzle of Hank Beauchamp’s behavior. He obviously had money problems if his credit card got declined for such a trifling amount. The Beauchamp family had the reputation, however, of being filthy rich. So what had happened to Hank? And did Sissy suffer from the same problem?

I reminded myself that I had no business speculating over the Beauchamp family finances and tried to relax. At my side, Diesel stretched out, already asleep. I drifted off soon after.

After a decent night’s sleep I stepped out into the chilly morning to retrieve my newspaper. Two deep breaths of the bracing air cleared my head. Diesel had disappeared during the night, and I had no doubt he was snuggled up to Laura. She stayed in bed later than I did, and he liked his rest.

When I reached the kitchen, the sight of my housekeeper, Azalea Berry, startled me. I still wasn’t quite used to seeing her every weekday morning, but with the additions to my household in the past few months, she had recently informed me I needed her every day. I saw no point in arguing with her, especially when she was right.

“Good morning, Azalea, how are you?” I sat at the table and opened the paper.

“Tolerable, Mr. Charlie, tolerable.” She offered a brisk nod as she approached the refrigerator. “I’ll have breakfast ready before long.”

“Thank you.” I had a sip of the coffee Azalea had waiting for me.

“There was company here last night. Cream just about gone.” Azalea turned to frown at me. “And here I was gonna make one of them quiches you like so much.”

“Sorry about that.” I offered her an apologetic smile. “It was a bit last-minute. I made tea for my guests, and I suppose we used most of the cream.”

“Ain’t no never mind.” Azalea shook her head. “I got to go to the grocery store anyway.”

Still feeling obscurely guilty, I said, “I hadn’t planned on it, but I hosted a meeting of the Friends of the Library board. We were supposed to meet at Cathy Williams’s house last night, but she got called in to the hospital at the last minute. Some kind of an emergency with her nursing staff, I think.”

Azalea turned to glare at me. “Then you had Miss An’gel and Miss Dickce here, didn’t you?” She didn’t wait for a response. “And I didn’t get around to dusting the living room yesterday. I was saving it for today.” She shook her head. “What on earth they gonna think of my housekeeping now?”

The living room, as I recalled it, was as spotless as it always was. “I’m sure they didn’t think anything bad, Azalea. In fact, Miss An’gel complimented me on how beautifully you keep the house.”

That appeared to mollify Azalea. She turned back to the refrigerator and extracted the ingredients she wanted.

“In fact, Vera Cassity said the very same thing.” I picked up the front section of the paper and started to open it.

Azalea whirled around and glared at me again, an egg in her right hand. “How come you let that trash in this house?”

The venom in Azalea’s voice startled me. I had never heard her speak in such a tone. “What do you mean?”

Azalea crushed the egg in her hand, and I watched in fascination as the contents oozed through her fingers and dripped on the floor. She appeared oblivious to the mess.

“That woman ain’t never done a good thing for nobody, ’cepting herself. She don’t deserve to be around decent folks.”

Azalea furiously angry would make anyone want to beat a strategic retreat. I tried not to squirm in my chair or get up and scuttle out of the room.

What on earth had Vera Cassity done to earn this kind of hatred?

Before I could voice the question, Azalea seemed to recover herself and gazed in dismay at the remains of the egg on the floor. She muttered to herself as she stepped over to the sink to rinse her hand. I watched in silence as she then took paper towels and wiped the floor.

I decided I’d ask anyway, though I might get my head handed back to me on a platter. “Why do you dislike Vera Cassity so much?”

Azalea glared at me for a moment. “Ain’t nothing you need to worry about.” She turned toward the stove, her back and shoulders stiff.

I went back to my paper and my coffee. Though I still burned with curiosity, I knew better than to push the issue.

The scent of bacon frying soon perfumed the air. Azalea remained silent as she tended the stove, and I gazed at the paper without comprehending much of what I read. Did anyone in Athena actually like Vera Cassity? I had seldom encountered anyone who seemed to engender universal antipathy as she did.

Justin entered the kitchen. Diesel ambled along beside him. “Good morning, Mr. Charlie, Miss Azalea.”

“Good morning, Justin.” I held out a hand to Diesel, who butted his head against it. “And good morning to you, boy.”

The cat chirped at me, and I could have sworn he also grinned. I scratched his head, and he purred with pleasure.

Justin helped himself to orange juice from the refrigerator while Azalea poured him a cup of coffee. He thanked her, and she nodded before she turned back to the stove.

He glanced at me with a faint frown, and I shrugged. Azalea had failed to extend him her usual greeting, and I couldn’t explain why to him, not with Azalea right there. Justin shook his head as he sat down across from me.

“Exams going well?” I folded the paper and laid it aside.

“Fine, as far as I can tell.” Justin took a swig of orange juice. “English lit’s going to be a monster.” He shook his head. “The professor warned us to expect to spend the whole three hours on it. My brain’ll probably be completely wrung out by the time it’s over.”

“Even so, I’m sure you’ll do fine. You have an A in the class, don’t you?” I already knew he did. He was not only bright, but also a hard worker. He didn’t accept anything other than A’s in all his courses.

“Yes, sir.” He blushed. “But I want to keep it, so I can’t let the exam do me in.”

“When is it?”

“This afternoon, at one.” He scratched his bearded chin.

“I’ll send good vibes your way.” I chuckled. “Though I doubt you really need them.”

Justin grinned, and as I regarded him, I marveled at the changes in him over the past year. When he first moved in, the fall semester of the previous year, he had been shy, gawky, and unsure of himself. After a traumatic first semester he’d blossomed into a more outgoing, physically active, and confident young man. I was as proud of him as if he were one of my own.

Azalea set plates of scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon in front of Justin and me. She glared at me when she was done. “Don’t you be letting that woman back in this house. Miss Dottie like to rise up and haunt you. And I won’t set foot in here again.”

With that she whirled and stomped off into the utility room.