Выбрать главу

“You could have,” Sean said. “But did you have any reason to suspect that the diaries were vulnerable to theft?”

I shook my head. “No, but I knew there were two parties anxious to get hold of them.”

“Do you think the professor or the writer stole them?”

“Surely it must be one of them,” I said. “At least, I hope it was one of them, because I don’t think either of them would destroy the diaries. My biggest fear is that the thief might do that for some unknown reason.”

“Let’s hope the cops find them before the thief has a chance to do anything drastic to them,” Sean said. “Right now I’d give a lot to know what’s in those diaries to stir up this kind of kerfuffle.” He shook his head. “By now I’m pretty much used to weird things happening around you, but this is even more bizarre than usual.”

“Thanks for that,” I said sourly. “Are you sure you weren’t serious about putting me in a home?”

Sean laughed. “I wouldn’t dare. For one thing, Helen Louise would extract my liver and then feed it to me. As would Laura, and probably Azalea as well.” He got up for another beer, and I motioned that he should refill my glass, too.

“Seriously, Dad, how do you keep getting involved in these things?” Sean frowned as he set my refilled glass in front of me.

“Must be karma,” I said, half joking. “Maybe in my last existence I went around whining about being bored all the time, and this is the payback.”

Sean rolled his eyes. “People are going to stop letting you come near them at this rate.”

“It’s not my fault,” I protested. I was beginning to get a little annoyed with my son. “I don’t go out of my way to find dead bodies or get involved in thefts. They just happen, and there I am.”

My son burst out laughing. “You are way too easy, Dad.”

For a moment I contemplated throwing the contents of my glass across the table at him, but then I started laughing, too. I could feel the tension drain away. Diesel joined in with a few chirps. Even if he didn’t understand the words, he understood the mood.

Time for a change of subject, I decided. “How is Alexandra?”

“Fine,” Sean said. “And before you ask, no, I haven’t asked her to marry me yet.”

“I wasn’t going to ask,” I said. I knew better. Sean had never liked being hounded—as he called it—about anything. “The last time I saw her she was having trouble with her allergies. I hope she’s feeling better.”

Sean looked mollified. “She is. Whatever was blooming seems to have stopped, so she’s not sneezing and getting watery eyes like she was a few days ago.”

“Staying busy at the office?” I asked. Sean had recently become a partner in the law firm established by Alexandra’s father, the legendary Q. C. Pendergrast.

“Plenty of work,” Sean said. “Q. C.’s starting to take it easier, so Alex and I are taking on more of his work.”

“That’s good.” A few months ago Sean and his prospective father-in-law were locked in a battle of wills. Q. C. wanted to make Sean a partner as a wedding gift, but my stubborn son wanted to pay his own way and buy into the firm. They finally came to an agreement over the summer. I kept out of it.

“Are you in for dinner?” I asked.

Sean shook his head. “No, sorry. I’m about to head upstairs for a shower and a change of clothes. Alex and I are going to a Chamber of Commerce dinner tonight. Three hours of rubber chicken and listening to speeches. The mayor has some new plan for attracting more tourists to Athena.”

I loved my hometown, but I would be hard-pressed to name enough local sights or activities that would interest many tourists. We did have a number of historic homes from the antebellum era, and a few were open to the public. Nothing like the spring pilgrimages, as they were called, held every year in Natchez and Holly Springs, though.

“I’m sure local business owners would love that,” I said. “I’ll be curious to hear about the mayor’s plan.”

“I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.” Sean got up to drop his two beer bottles in the recycling bin. “Gotta get a move on, Dad. See you later.” As he walked past, he gave my shoulder a quick squeeze.

As the sound of my son’s footsteps faded away, I let the quiet of the kitchen settle around me. I could hear Diesel purring and the ticking of the wall clock, but otherwise there was blessed calm. I sat and enjoyed the peace for several minutes. Then I decided it was time to eat.

I still had half the casserole from last night and a bit of salad that would be fine for my dinner. There was some more of the boiled chicken for Diesel. While the two of us enjoyed our meal, Sean popped back through the kitchen on his way to meet Alexandra. He looked distinguished and handsome in his black suit, white shirt, and dark red tie, I thought. Every inch the successful young professional. I was proud of my accomplished son, but I didn’t tell him. I knew he would only squirm with embarrassment, so I simply smiled and bade him good night.

Diesel and I were halfway up the stairs when the doorbell rang. I had an uneasy feeling that if I went down and opened the door, it wouldn’t be to good news. I was tempted to ignore it and take refuge in my bedroom, but the adult in me prevailed.

I turned and clumped back down the stairs. I peered out the peephole. There was still enough daylight left that I could see who stood on the doorstep.

I felt my blood pressure start to rise as I opened the door.

FOURTEEN

“Evening, Marie.” I stood in the doorway and glared down at her upturned face. “What do you want?”

From the wild gleam in the woman’s eyes, I knew I was in trouble. She put her head down and butted me in the stomach. Hard.

I stumbled back and almost tripped over Diesel. I managed to step around him. He darted up the stairs while I turned to face my attacker.

“Why did you do that, woman? Are you insane?” I rubbed the spot where her head had connected with my midriff. “I have a good mind to call the police and charge you with assault.”

“You already set the police on me.” Her pitch rose with every syllable. “I could kill you for what you’ve done to me. Why do you hate me? What have I ever done to you?”

To my dismay she broke into wild sobs. Tears rolled down her face. She stood there, arms hanging down listlessly, and continued to cry. Despite my anger at her attack, I felt a sneaking sympathy for her distress. I stepped around her to close the door, then came back to where she could see me.

“What happened?” I asked in a gentle tone.

Her chest heaved as she struggled to regain enough composure to respond to me. “The police showed up at my house this afternoon and accused me of theft. That’s what happened. Then they tore my house apart looking for the diaries. You were responsible for it—I know you were—so don’t try to deny it.” Suddenly she collapsed in a seated heap on the floor and started sobbing again.

I knelt by her. I was afraid to touch her because the good Lord only knew how she would react.

“Marie, I’m sorry for your distress,” I said. “I did report the theft of the diaries, and naturally I had to give the authorities the names of anyone I knew who had expressed interest in them. I didn’t do it out of malice, I swear to you. It was simply the truth.”

“It was humiliating.” Her voice was so low I barely made out the words. The volume grew as she continued to speak. “Never in my life have I been so embarrassed. I’ll be a laughingstock on campus because of this. And on top of everything else, the diaries have disappeared. Now I’ll never get to work on them, and I won’t get tenure.”