Murder Past Due Page 9

  I nodded. I knew Melba’s niece, Patty Simpson. Plus, I knew Melba. If Patty was at all like her aunt, she knew what was going on around her within a ten-mile radius.

  “Okay, let’s say something happened between Godfrey and Jordan Thompson.” I regarded Julia warily. “Something that pissed off Jordan so much she wanted Godfrey dead. How the heck are we supposed to find out what that was? Other than calling up Patty Simpson and asking her, since she seems to know everything.”

  “I’m not suggesting that.” Julia scowled. “Although I have no doubt Patty would be happy to tell you that, and a dozen other things besides.” She paused. “I know you go into the bookstore. I’ve seen you there myself, several times.”

  “Yes, I do. I go in there at least every couple of weeks.” I have always loved bookstores, and though I have plenty of access to books through the two libraries where I work and volunteer, I can’t resist the lure of the bookstore.

  “Then go by there tomorrow and talk to Jordan,” Julia said. “She’s fond of older men, from what I’ve seen. You can probably get her to talk to you.”

  “Julia, I can’t believe you’re suggesting such a thing.” I pretended to be shocked, but I was more amused than anything. I couldn’t see myself in the role of homme fatal, persuading attractive young women to spill their secrets.

  She didn’t respond. Instead, she turned in her chair and peered in the direction of the kitchen. “What’s taking so long? Shouldn’t they be done by now?” She started to rise.

  “No, I’ll go.” I motioned for her to stay where she was, and she sat down again. “Kanesha won’t like it, I’m sure, but she’s probably already so annoyed at me it won’t make much difference.”

  A few feet from the kitchen I could hear the low murmur of voices. Then one rose above the rest—Justin’s.

  “Yes, I went back, but he was dead. I keep telling you that. Why do you keep asking me?”

  The note of near-hysteria in the boy’s voice worried me. When I stepped into the kitchen, I could see Diesel in Justin’s lap, peering angrily at Kanesha. He looked like he was ready to launch himself over the table at her.

  “Diesel, no.”

  At the sound of my voice, the cat warbled, and I could tell he was upset. But some of the tension left his body, and he sat back against Justin. The signs of exhaustion in Justin’s face emboldened me.

  Kanesha stood up and faced me. “I’d appreciate it if you’d remove that cat from the room.”

  I didn’t care for the way she said that cat. “It’s his house too, and if he wants to be in this room, he can. What are you doing that’s upsetting him?”

  The surprise in the deputy’s face pleased me. Obviously she hadn’t expected me to talk back to her. I pressed my advantage without allowing her to answer.

  “I think you’ve had enough time now to ask Justin your questions,” I said. “He’s had a long and very upsetting day. Unless you’re going to charge him with something, I think this interview should be over.”

  Over Kanesha’s shoulder, I caught sight of a smirking Bates. That wasn’t good. Kanesha might take it out on Justin because she knew she had to prove herself in front of her good ol’ boy of a subordinate.

  “I am conducting an investigation into what looks like homicide, Mr. Harris.” Kanesha enunciated each word so carefully, I could tell she was furious. “I will conduct the investigation as I see fit, and that means questioning anyone with any connection to the victim.” The intensity of her gaze made me want to take a step back. “Do you understand that?”

  “I do.” A smarter man would have tucked tail and run. She was one pissed-off deputy, but another look at Justin’s face was all I needed to make me stand my ground. “My point is, you’ve questioned Justin and his mother. You’ve pushed your luck far enough as it is, since Justin hasn’t had time to talk to a lawyer. They’re both very upset about what happened, and if you have a humane bone in your body, you’ll give them time to recover. They haven’t even had their dinner yet, and neither have I. You can continue this tomorrow.”

  Bates stood and moved close to Kanesha. He appeared ready to step between Kanesha and me.

  I must have looked more threatening than I realized, because now both deputies were glaring at me. I took a step back, my hands up to show that I meant no harm.

  Kanesha jerked her head once, and Bates moved away.

  “I have more questions for you, Mr. Harris.” Kanesha folded her arms over her chest. “But they can wait until tomorrow. I’m sure I’ll have more questions for Justin and Mrs. Wardlaw as well. Have a good evening.”

  She stalked past me, Bates behind her. He gave me a cocky grin as he went.

  Moments later I heard the front door open and close, and Julia appeared in the kitchen right after. She took one look at Justin, then hurried to his side. Diesel jumped down from the boy’s lap and came to rub against my legs.

  “Honey, how are you? Did they mistreat you?” Julia examined Justin, her fingers trembling as she touched his face.

  “No, I’m okay, Mama.” Justin leaned against her, his head at her waist. Julia stroked his hair. “It was pretty intense. She kept asking me the same questions over and over.”

  I went to the refrigerator and retrieved a can of Coke for Justin.

  “Thank you, sir,” he said as he accepted it. “You should’ve heard Mr. Charlie, Mama. He came in here and told the deputy that she should stop. And she did. But boy was she mad.” He popped the top on the can and took a long swig of Coke.

  “Thank you.” Julia threw me a glance full of gratitude.

  “You’re welcome,” I said. “Now, anyone hungry? How about I order us a pizza?”

  Both Julia and Justin shook their heads. “Not for me, thanks,” Justin said.

  When a teenager turned down pizza, he was obviously worn out.

  “Okay,” I said. “Why don’t you go on up to bed? And if you get hungry in the night, there’s plenty of food in the fridge.”

  “Yes, sir.” Justin stood, his shoulders tensed. “Mama, will you come upstairs with me for a few minutes? I need to talk to you about something.” He glanced at me, and I nodded. He relaxed.

  I knew he wanted to talk to Julia about the pen he found in Godfrey’s room. Julia could explain, and then they could decide what to do about it.

  “If you need anything, let me know.” I watched as they left the room, Julia’s arm around her son.

  Diesel started after them, but I called him back. “Not now, boy. Justin and his mother need to be alone. You stay with me.”

  The cat looked at me for a moment, then sat down and started cleaning his left front paw.

  I’ve never had a pet that seemed to understand what I said so well. Sometimes it freaked me out a little. I watched Diesel a little longer, until hunger pangs claimed my attention.

  I decided against pizza and settled for scrambled eggs with cheddar cheese and a couple of pieces of toast instead. When my meal was ready, I poured a glass of water and carried it with my plate to the table.

  Diesel could smell the eggs and cheese, and approached my chair, chirping. He loved scrambled eggs, and I usually gave him a few bites. If I didn’t, I got a heavy paw on my leg as a reminder.

  I took my time eating, and when I was done I cleaned up the kitchen. Azalea would be back in the morning, and I didn’t want her to find a mess. She would have enough to do with dusting, vacuuming, and laundry without having to clean up in here.

  Julia still hadn’t come back down by the time I finished. I was tired and ready to climb into bed with a book, but I didn’t want to go upstairs without seeing Julia to her car. Aunt Dottie would haunt me if I neglected my duties as a host.

  I went up for the book I was reading, planning to take it back downstairs while I waited for Julia. Diesel trotted along with me. I retrieved the book from my bedside table, and Diesel followed as I left my room and walked back to the stairs.

  From above me I heard Julia telling Justin good night, and
moments later she was coming down the stairs. I moved forward to intercept her as she reached the second-floor landing.

  “You must be about ready for bed.” Julia paused, her hand on the banister. “What a day this has been.”

  “Yes, it has.” Somehow it seemed three days long, but it was only this morning that Godfrey Priest had appeared in the archive. “I wanted to see you out and ask if there’s anything else I can do.”

  Julia placed a hand on my arm as we walked down the stairs together. Diesel had zipped ahead and disappeared before we were halfway down.

  “You’re a good friend,” Julia said. “And I’m so sorry if I was rude to you earlier. I’m just terrified of what’s going to come of this.” Her grip tightened on my arm. “I have to keep Justin safe.”

  “How is he?”

  “Very tired and confused, poor lamb.” Julia sighed. “Like both of us, I expect. We talked, and I explained about the pen.”

  “Good.” I wanted to ask whether they decided to tell Kanesha about it, but Julia looked exhausted.

  We reached the bottom of the stairs, and I turned to face her as her hand dropped from my arm. “I’ll keep my eye on him, and I’ll keep my ears open, too. Someone else had a powerful motive, and I’m sure the truth will come out. It’s just going to take some digging.”

  “You’re a good man, Charlie Harris.” Julia surprised me with a peck on the cheek, and I could feel my face redden a bit. “I’ll get my purse and be right back.”

  I waited, hoping my face had lost any vestige of red by the time she returned.

  When Julia reappeared, purse clutched in her hand, I moved to open the door for her. I started to follow her down the walk, but she insisted that I not.

  “It’s not that far to the car, and I’ll be fine. I’m going by the hospital to check on Ezra, and then I’ll head home and collapse.” She smiled before she turned and moved down the walk to the street.

  “Good night, then,” I called after her. I waited until she pulled her car away from the curb before shutting the door.

  I turned off the lights downstairs, watching for Diesel, but there was no sign of him. I found him sprawled across my bed when I got back upstairs.

  After putting my book back on the nightstand, I undressed and got ready for bed myself. I was tired, but my brain was buzzing with all kinds of thoughts about the events of the day.

  I read for a while, trying hard to concentrate on my book, and eventually I put it aside and turned out the light. Diesel snuggled close to my legs.

  Praying that I wouldn’t have nightmares about dead bodies all night long, I did my best to fall asleep.

  THIRTEEN

  If I dreamed about corpses, I didn’t remember it when I woke the next morning. I came out of a sound sleep to feel a paw gently prodding my nose and then a head butting lightly against my chin.

  With Diesel around I had no need of an alarm clock. He got me up most mornings by six-thirty, and today was no exception.

  After I came out of the bathroom, wearing my robe over my pajamas, I went down to the kitchen, where I knew Diesel would be waiting. I filled his bowl with fresh water and replenished his food. He began eating his breakfast with enthusiasm.

  I hadn’t remembered to fill the coffeepot last night and set it so that I would have coffee when I got up. And no wonder. I felt dazed as I recalled the events of the day before.

  While I waited for the coffee, I went to the front door to retrieve the paper. Standing on the doorstep, breathing in the fresh, cool air, I began to feel more awake. I scanned the front page, but there was no mention of Godfrey’s death. Tomorrow’s paper would be full of it, I was sure. And there would probably be national news crews all over the place. The mysterious death of a bestselling writer would attract attention across the country.

  I was working the crossword and sipping coffee when the back door opened. I looked up to greet Azalea Berry. Today, Wednesday, was one of her three weekdays at my house. She had other clients on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

  At nearly six feet tall, Azalea was an imposing figure. She had a regal bearing and she rarely smiled, but she was kind, with a warmth that belied her reserve. She was only about three or four years older than I, but she possessed the poise of a grande dame in her eighties.

  “Good morning,” I said.

  “Good morning, Mr. Charlie,” Azalea replied. She closed the door behind her and set her purse and keys on the counter nearby. “It sure is some beautiful morning.”

  “Yes, it is.” I wondered whether she had heard about Godfrey Priest’s death. Surely Kanesha had mentioned it to her mother.

  “Terrible thing about that poor man.” Azalea retrieved her apron from a hook by the back door and put it on.

  “It sure was. It seems like a nightmare instead of something real.”

  “And you finding him that way.” Azalea shook her head. “It’s a wonder you wasn’t up all night.”

  “It was pretty grisly.” I took a sip of my coffee.

  “How is Justin this morning?” She shook her head. “That poor child.”

  “I haven’t seen him this morning. He was completely worn out last night.”

  “Then he’s going to need a good breakfast. Build up his strength. You, too.” She went to the refrigerator and began pulling out eggs, sausage, and milk. Next she retrieved the flour canister, and I knew she was going to make hotcakes.

  My mouth began watering. Azalea made wonderful hotcakes.

  Diesel wandered into the kitchen and sat down a few feet away from Azalea.

  She regarded him with a gimlet eye, and he stared back unfazed. “I don’t need no help from you,” Azalea said.

  Diesel warbled at her, and Azalea turned her back on him, busying herself with preparing breakfast.

  “Diesel, let’s go see if Justin is up.” I put my coffee cup aside and stood. “Come on, boy.”

  Diesel was off like a streak. I followed at a much more leisurely pace.

  When I reached Justin’s room, I found the door open and Justin sitting at his computer with Diesel climbing into his lap. I tapped lightly on the door, and Justin looked up at me.

  The worn, frightened look had left his face, and this morning he appeared more his usual self, I was glad to see.

  “Good morning.” I smiled. “Azalea’s downstairs making hotcakes for breakfast.”

  Justin’s face lit up. “I sure am hungry.” His head ducked down for a moment. “Uh, about yesterday . . .”

  “Yes,” I said when he paused.

  “Thank you,” Justin said, raising his head to look at me. “I’m glad you were there, sir.”

  “You’re welcome.” He seemed younger than eighteen right then. He’d had more than one deep shock yesterday, and the Lord only knew how it would all affect him in the long run. “Come on downstairs when you’re ready. Breakfast will be on the table soon.”

  “Yes, sir. I will.” Justin rubbed Diesel’s head, and the cat chirped happily.

  I reached the kitchen in time to answer the phone. The appetizing smells emanating from the stove made my stomach rumble. Justin wasn’t the only hungry one.

  “Hello.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Harris. This is Ray Appleby from the Athena Daily Register. I’d like to talk to you about the murder of Godfrey Priest.”

  I glanced at the clock. It was only seven-fifteen.

  “You’re calling pretty early, Mr. Appleby. I haven’t had my breakfast yet.” My tone was sharp, but I didn’t care.

  “I apologize if I woke you,” Appleby said. He didn’t sound apologetic. “But I really need to talk to you as soon as possible. According to my sources you found the body.”

  “If you want to call back at a more civilized hour, I might be willing to talk to you. Until then, I have nothing more to say.” I hung up the phone.

  I turned to find Azalea regarding me, her expression inquisitive.

  “Somebody from the paper, wanting to talk to me about yesterday.” I sat down at
the table.

  “That’s mighty rude, calling somebody this early.” She turned back to the stove. “People just ain’t raised right these days.”

  “It’s only going to get worse,” I said. I picked up my coffee cup and, seeing that it was empty, got up to refill it.

  “I guess he was pretty big news.” Azalea expertly flipped a couple of hotcakes as I poured the coffee.

  “He was, and there’ll probably be news crews from all over the country here.” I stirred some sugar substitute into the coffee. “And it looks like your daughter may be center stage, since she’s in charge of the investigation.”

  Azalea made a noise that sounded like hmmph.

  “It’s a big chance for her.” I sat down at the table again and drank some coffee.

  “That girl wanna be on TV, she should’ve been an actress.” Azalea set a plate with three hotcakes and three sausages on the table in front of me.

  “Thank you,” I said, reaching for the syrup she had placed on the table, along with a napkin and cutlery.

  Justin appeared a few minutes later when Diesel was begging for another bite of hotcake. Justin saw it and grinned.

  “Good morning, child.” Azalea treated the young man to one of her rare smiles. “You set on down here and eat you some breakfast. You need your strength.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Justin said, eyeing the plate of hotcakes and sausage avidly. “Thank you, Miss Azalea. I’m starving.”

  Azalea stood, arms folded, watching Justin eat for a moment. Then she inspected my plate. “How about some more?”

  I groaned and pushed my plate away. “No, thank you. That was delicious, but if I eat any more I’ll have to go run around the track for two hours.”

  The housekeeper cocked an eyebrow at that. She knew I was not a runner. “Just go up and down them stairs a few times. That’ll do it.”

  The doorbell rang, and I started to get up from the table.

  “You set still.” Azalea motioned me back into my chair. “I’ll take care of whatever heathen that is, ringing the bell this time of the morning.”

  “Thank you,” I said. I knew better than to argue with her.