Melba shrugged. “I reckon her husband is the one pushing to get the boy in office. He served a couple terms a while back in the state house of representatives, and he’s probably aiming higher for his son. Trying to keep up the Long legacy.”
“It’ll sure be interesting to see how this race turns out.” I stood. “Thanks again for the aspirin, but Diesel and I need to head on home. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
Melba gave the cat a few last head rubs before she bade us both good-bye. Despite the heat of the afternoon I was glad to get out of the building before I let something slip to Melba that I shouldn’t.
I thought about our conversation on the short walk home. Having been close up with Beck Long and then hearing Melba’s assessment of him, I gained a better understanding of why Mrs. Long believed the diaries could help. Emphasis on the Long family’s history and accomplishments for generations might dazzle voters enough that they would overlook Beck’s deficiencies.
Wouldn’t be the first time that image had trumped ability in public office, I thought sourly. I really needed to pay more attention to state politics in order to make an informed decision come election day. Guiltily I recalled my father’s opinion on voting. If you don’t vote, Son, he told me on several occasions, you’ve got no right to complain when you disagree with what’s going on. As in many things, my father was absolutely right. Up until his final illness, when he was bedridden and couldn’t go to the polls, he had cast a vote in every election after he first became eligible.
My cell phone rang as I unlocked the front door. I waited to answer it until both Diesel and I were inside basking in the cool air of the house, with the door shut behind us. I recognized Kanesha Berry’s cell phone number on the screen.
After I answered and said hello, she got right to the point. “Good news. Those diaries will be back tomorrow morning.”
“That is good news,” I said, though it made my eyes tired and my head ache to think of reading through all those pages of Rachel Long’s handwriting.
“You made any progress with the other volume the mayor brought you?” Kanesha asked.
“I scanned all the pages, and I’ve been reading them today.”
“Find anything interesting that could possibly be related to the investigation?”
I hesitated. Should I wait to talk to Mrs. Long first? She had, after all, given the diaries to the archive without restriction on use—except, of course, for the grant of exclusive access to Marie Steverton, now moot.
“You must have found something.” Kanesha’s sharp tone made me realize she interpreted my hesitation correctly.
“Yes, I did,” I said. “I’m not sure it really has a bearing on the murder, but I think you should know, in case it turns out that it is important.”
“Good,” Kanesha said. “How about I swing by in about fifteen minutes? Are you still in the office?”
“No, I’m at home,” I said. “Got here right as you called. Fifteen minutes is fine.”
“I’ll be there.” She ended the call.
I put my cell phone away and removed Diesel’s leash and halter. “Come on, boy, let’s go have a snack.”
The words hardly left my mouth before the cat darted away. I knew his destination. Litter box first, then water and food.
I put a pot of coffee on because I knew Kanesha drank a lot of it. Must be an occupational hazard, I mused. I also found some of her mother’s cookies we could enjoy.
Kanesha turned up at the front door on the dot, and I let her in. She thanked me for the coffee and cookies, and she drank and munched while I told her what I found in Rachel’s diary.
Her expression remained enigmatic throughout my narration. When I finished, she said, “That was pretty clear. Sounds to me like Mr. Singletary may not be happy when he finds out about this. Although you’d think he’d already know.”
I shrugged. “I guess the family members who knew kept quiet about it, and the later generations didn’t find out.”
Kanesha frowned. “Still pretty odd, though. You’d think somebody outside the Longs and the Singletarys would have found out. Athena wasn’t a big town back then, and I’m sure it wasn’t any different then than it is now. Everybody seems to know everybody else’s business. How could they keep a thing like that secret all these years?”
TWENTY-SEVEN
“That’s a good point,” I said slowly. “I’d never heard anything much about the Singletarys, though, until all this election business started up.”
Kanesha frowned. “I don’t remember Mama talking much about them, either, and she knows all the old families in town.”
“Maybe I ought to give Miss An’gel and Miss Dickce a call,” I said. Diesel perked up when he heard those names. He chirped several times, and Kanesha smiled.
“He knows who you’re talking about, doesn’t he?” She stood. “Why don’t you talk to Miss An’gel and ask? They know a lot about families around here that they never let slip. I need to get back to the office.”
“I will.” I escorted her to the front door. “I hope something breaks soon so you can wrap this up. I don’t like to think about a killer running around free.”
“You think I do?” Kanesha regarded me grimly. “The president of the college is having fits over this, and the mayor is calling every couple of hours to hear the latest. There’s a lot of pressure to get this solved quickly.”
“Everybody wants results yesterday,” I said. “I know you’re doing the absolute best you can.”
Kanesha nodded. “Thanks. Let me hear from you if you come up with anything. I’ll take any lead I can get right now.” She turned and strode down the path to the street.
I shut the door and walked back into the kitchen. Diesel stood on his hind legs, one front paw extended toward the plate where a lone cookie sat.
“No, bad kitty,” I told him as I hurried forward to grab the cookie away from him. I couldn’t believe I’d been so careless as to leave the cookie within reach. “I told you these aren’t good for you. Cats aren’t supposed to eat raisins.”
Diesel meowed loudly as I pulled the cookie away in time. I took it to the sink and put it down the garbage disposal. Diesel warbled in protest loudly enough that I heard him over the grinding of the disposal. I switched it off and turned to look down at my cat. He seemed cross.
“Too bad,” I said. “If you want a snack go eat more of your crunchies.”
Diesel turned away and marched off, tail in the air. He didn’t head for the utility room, though. Instead he made for the stairs. I figured he was going to sulk in my bedroom.
Diesel didn’t pout with me that often, and the good thing about it was that he wasn’t destructive when he did. I would give him a couple of his favorite cat treats at dinner, and that would improve his mood.
I called Miss An’gel’s cell phone but had to leave a message. I explained briefly the reason for my call, then rang off. The Ducote sisters spent most of their time doing volunteer work in Athena and the surrounding area. Meetings of various committees and boards kept them busy, so I wasn’t surprised not to get an answer right away. Miss An’gel would return my call as soon as she could.
In the meantime I pondered how I would spend my evening. Too early yet for dinner, so what to do? Kanesha said the four volumes of Rachel Long’s diary would be returned tomorrow morning, and that would mean a heavy workload. I sighed. I wasn’t eager to plunge back into the one volume I had scanned, but I might as well. The sooner I got through them all, the sooner I might discover a clue to the present-day murder if one existed.
I went into the den and powered up my laptop. I got comfortable on the sofa and opened up the file I sent myself yesterday. I paged down until I found the last entry I’d read in my office.