Out of Circulation (CAT IN THE STACKS MYSTERY)

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.

“I’d rather you didn’t,” I said. “I’m sure she’s feeling upset enough at the thought of me being in her business, you might say, without having another member of my family getting into it too.”

“You’re probably right.” Laura sighed, obviously disappointed. “But if you need me for anything, I’m there for you.”

I thanked her. We talked about more mundane matters for a while, including plans for the rapidly approaching holidays. Laura said she still had some Christmas shopping to do, and I told her smugly that mine was all done.

Diesel head-butted my leg, and automatically I reached down to rub his head. “I didn’t forget you, boy, never fear. You’ll have a present or two to play with.” He warbled. An empty box was as good as anything to him. Like most cats he liked to stuff himself into them, and the smaller they were, the better he appeared to like them. He also loved ribbon, but we had to watch him to make sure he didn’t try to eat any.

I broached the subject of Laura’s postholiday plans with some caution. She had been remarkably uninformative on the subject whenever I mentioned it recently, and I secretly hoped it meant she might stay in Athena for another semester at the very least. I knew Frank wouldn’t be any happier to see her leave for California than I would.

“No firm plans yet,” Laura said with a shrug. She avoided my eyes as she continued. “I talked to my agent yesterday, and she’s working on some auditions in January. Two movies and one TV sitcom thing. Just minor parts, but you never know when they can lead to something bigger.”

“I see.” I felt deflated. I knew it was selfish of me to want my daughter to give up her career in Hollywood to live here in Athena, but since I’d had her and her brother with me for months now, I was reluctant to see either one of them move too far from home. “Well, I’m sure you’ll knock their socks off in those auditions and get the parts. They’d be idiots not to hire you.”

“Thanks, Dad. My biggest fan.” She beamed at me.

“Always.” I finished my drink and got up to dispose of the can. “I’d better start getting ready for dinner. See you later, sweetheart.”

Diesel remained with Laura while I went upstairs to shower and change clothes. I checked my face in the mirror and decided that it wouldn’t hurt to shave again. My five o’clock shadow looked more like seven thirty.

The cat wandered into my bedroom as I finished tying my shoes. “Are you ready to go, boy? We’re going to have dinner with Helen Louise.”

His ears perked up at the mention of Helen Louise, and he meowed. It was very sweet, the way those two adored each other. And a good thing as well, since I could never care for anyone who didn’t love my cat as much as I did.

Helen Louise lived only a few blocks away, so Diesel and I walked over. It was a fine, clear night, though chilly, but not too cold to be uncomfortable for a cat walking on the pavement. I rang the doorbell right on the dot of six thirty. Helen Louise knew I always turned up on time, so she would be ready for us.

The door swung open, and she greeted me with a kiss and Diesel with head rubs. We followed her to the kitchen, led as much by the enticing aromas as by our hostess.

Helen Louise had inherited the house from her parents, and Bradys had lived in it since the early twentieth century. Though not as large as Aunt Dottie’s place, it nevertheless had the same sense of warmth and welcome, the aura created by a loving family.

The one room Helen Louise had changed was the kitchen, remodeling it to serve her needs as a baker and chef with more up-to-date ovens and refrigerator. I had no idea what the appliances cost, but her fridge alone was twice the size of mine. She was proud of her kitchen, and with her culinary skills, she deserved a first-class one.

“Do I smell coq au vin?” I sniffed appreciatively.

“Mais oui, mon petit chou. I know how much you love it. We also have haricots verts Lyonnaise and gratin Dauphinoise.” Helen Louise grinned wickedly as she continued, “And there just might be a special gâteau au chocolat for dessert.”

I still wasn’t quite used to being referred to as a little cabbage, but I knew it was a classic French term of endearment.

I pulled her into my arms, and we spent several satisfying minutes before I released her. “What happened to that early night you planned on? You must be exhausted, and here you are cooking dinner for us.”

“I’ve caught my second wind,” she said with an impish smile. “You just recharged my batteries.”

I laughed and pulled her close again.

Diesel warbled indignantly at being ignored so long, and we were both grinning as we separated and reached at the same time to stroke his head.

“This is what I needed,” Helen Louise said softly.

“Me, too.”

She tapped me playfully on the chest as I attempted to kiss her again. “Time for more of that later. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Sit yourself down and prepare to feast.” She pointed to my chair.

The old oaken table was covered by a beautiful white linen cloth that made the cobalt Fiestaware stand out nicely. Helen Louise’s set was vintage, lovingly cared for by her grandmother Brady and then her own mother.

“Why don’t you pour the wine?” Helen Louise said as she took my plate to fill it.

She’d chosen a Nuits-St.-Georges Chardonnay, a favorite of both of ours. Helen Louise would never settle for cheap wine, and, having benefited from her expertise on numerous occasions now, I had to agree.

Over the delicious dinner we chatted about ordinary things, neither of us wishing to let the events of the previous night intrude. We ate dessert in her living room in front of the fireplace, all nice and cozy. The dark chocolate cake, paired with a delicious tawny port, had me groaning with a combination of pleasure and guilt.

Diesel desperately wanted to taste the chocolate, but Helen Louise fended him off with a couple of bites of chicken instead. Chocolate was dangerous for cats and dogs, no matter how much they might beg for a taste.

When we set our plates aside, the cat took it as his signal to jump onto the sofa with us. He spread himself across our laps, with Helen Louise getting his head. His tail thumped against my chest, and I only narrowly avoided receiving a mouthful of hair. He settled down after a moment, and then we were able to talk about the subject we had avoided thus far.

“Was it only last night?” Helen Louise shook her head. “Hard to believe.”

“I know. I feel like I’ve aged a couple of months already.”

“Tell me what you’ve been up to. I have a feeling you haven’t been able to keep out of this.” Helen Louise grinned.

“True,” I said, “but not exactly by choice.” I shared with her the visits from the Ducote sisters and Kanesha Berry, then went on to relate the rest of my day.

“You have been busy,” she said when I finished. She filled my glass with more of the delicious tawny port, and I had a few sips. “Any conclusions?”

“Not really, though I still figure Morty Cassity had the best motive for pushing Vera down the stairs.”

“He’s the most likely one,” Helen Louise agreed. “I can’t believe he and Sissy are brazen enough to be carrying on in Vera’s house less than twenty-four hours after the woman died. That’s cold.”

“Isn’t it?” I recalled Morty’s attitude when I talked to him that afternoon. “He certainly didn’t hold back his feelings. No grief there, for sure. How long have he and Sissy been having an affair?”

“A couple of years, maybe three,” Helen Louise said. “It’s hard to know. First I heard of it was two years ago, I think.” She frowned. “Before that there was always talk that Morty was seeing other women, but no one could ever come up with a name that I recall.”

“He’s at least twenty or twenty-five years older than she is, right? What do you think she sees in him?”

Helen Louise shrugged. “He’s actually rather attractive, but for Sissy I imagine the main attraction is money. She’s like Morty in that respect, and maybe the two of them deserve each other.”

“Is she really that mercenary?” I didn’t know Sissy well at all, but she hadn’t come across that way to me.

“Not for her sake, no, but she’d do anything to help Hank.”

“I know you mentioned that he’s been having financial issues and could lose his law firm.” I also remembered something about Hank having a gambling problem, too.

She looked troubled as she nodded in agreement. “From what I’ve heard recently, Hank’s on the verge of bankruptcy. There are even rumors that he’s going to sell Beauchamp House. That must mean they’re both pretty desperate.”