Deputy Turnbull shook his head. “Thank you, sir, but I’ll stand here in the door to keep an eye out for potential visitors.”
“Good idea,” I said. While I readied the scanning station, Diesel got down from his spot and walked over to the deputy. He sat at the man’s feet, looked up, and meowed. Turnbull grinned and said hello to the cat. He rubbed Diesel’s head, and that apparently satisfied my boy. He left the deputy and came to sit beside me.
I felt tense as I worked on the pages. The cotton gloves I wore made the process a bit slower as I took each page and scanned both sides. I was sweating by the time I finished. I reassembled the pages but did not paper-clip them. The paper clip could damage the pages. I advised Turnbull of this when I gave him the envelope. Then I remembered I should let Kanesha know what I’d told Long and Kittredge about the diary volume they wanted to photograph. “Sorry to load you down with messages for Deputy Berry,” I said when I finished.
“Not a problem, Mr. Harris. I’ll pass it all along to her when I give her the envelope,” Turnbull said. He smiled briefly before he left the office.
Before I shut down the scanning station I e-mailed the file of the scanned pages to myself and to Kanesha.
I returned to my desk, where I collapsed in my chair, Diesel by my feet, and mopped my sweaty brow with my handkerchief. My rampant curiosity about the contents of the missing pages made me want to start reading right away, but my brain needed time to relax from the tensions of the morning.
“I don’t know about you, boy, but I’m ready for lunch,” I said to the cat. “Let’s go home.” A good meal in the quiet of my house was what I needed right now.
Diesel meowed loudly to indicate his approval, adding in a couple of the odd trills he made sometimes.
Downstairs we stopped by Melba’s office to let her know we were going home for lunch.
“I’m about to head out myself,” she said. “I’m going over to the bakery to meet a friend for lunch. Y’all want to tag along? I know Helen Louise would be happy to see you. As hard as she works, I reckon she doesn’t have a lot of free time.”
Hearing Helen Louise’s name gave me a guilty start. Hadn’t I promised her last night we would come to see her at lunchtime today?
I had promised her, I decided. “Thanks, we’d appreciate the ride,” I said. “Saves me from going home to get the car.”
About fifteen minutes later Melba found a parking space on the square across from the bakery. We crossed the street, and I opened the door for Melba. The ever-tantalizing scents from the bakery filled the air.
“There’s my friend,” Melba said, nodding in the direction of a lone woman seated at a nearby table. “Y’all enjoy your lunch, and we’ll head back in about forty-five minutes, okay?”
“Sounds good,” I said.
Diesel and I made our way to our usual spot, the table near the cash register Helen Louise always kept reserved for us when we were expected.
I didn’t see Helen Louise and figured she was in the kitchen. I sat, and Diesel stretched out under the table near my feet. We settled in to wait for Helen Louise.
“Mr. Harris,” a voice called out over the low hum of conversation in the bakery. “I was hoping I’d find you here.”
I looked around to see Kelly Grimes advancing toward my table.
“Hello,” I said when she stopped about three paces from me. “What can I do for you?”
She smiled. She held out a slim book. “You can read this and tell me what you think.”
I accepted the book and glanced at the cover. The title read: A Memoir of Mrs. Rachel Afton Long of Athena.
THIRTY-FOUR
“Where did you find this?” I had almost forgotten about Angeline Long’s reminiscences of her grandmother-in-law.
Kelly Grimes pulled out a chair and sat. She set her briefcase on the floor beside her. Once she was settled, she reached over and pulled the memoir from my hands.
“In a place that no one else remembered to search.” She regarded me coolly. “Marie Steverton’s carrel in the college library. I found it there several days ago. The day she was run down in the street, in fact.”
I held my hand out for the book, but she shook her head. “No, I think I’ll hold on to this until we can come to an agreement.”
“An agreement on what?” I said, irritated. I couldn’t believe the nerve of the woman.
“I want an exclusive interview with you,” she said. “Because after you’ve read this, you can help me prove that the story about Jasper being descended from slaves is a lie.”
I stared at her. She couldn’t possibly know that Stewart had determined the diary was a forgery. Then I focused on something she’d said. After you’ve read this, meaning the memoir. “What’s in the memoir that disproves the story in the diary?”
She shook her head again. “Are you going to give me the interview?”
I didn’t have a choice, I supposed. Although I could call Kanesha and she would probably be able to take the book as evidence in the case. I didn’t tell Ms. Grimes this. At the moment my curiosity had too strong a hold. I had to see what was in the memoir that made Ms. Grimes so certain of her position.
I was about to reply when I thought of something. “I spoke to Jasper Singletary this morning, and he didn’t say anything about this. Surely you’ve told him you have this so-called proof that the story is a lie.”
She looked disconcerted for a moment. “He’s been too busy the past two days, and I only read the memoir last night. I wanted to be certain before I told him.”
I wasn’t sure I trusted her, but I wanted to get my hands on that book. There had to be a reason Marie had hoarded it away, and why someone had taken Miss Eulalie’s copy.
“Okay, then, I’ll give you your interview,” I said. “Once I’ve read that memoir. And when the murderer has been identified. Not before.”
“Fine.” She held the book out to me. “I think you’ll find the contents interesting.”
“Contents of what?” Helen Louise asked. I looked up to see her standing behind the writer. Kelly Grimes started and half rose from her chair.
“Sorry if I startled you,” Helen Louise said.
The writer gave a polite smile. “Not at all. Mr. Harris and I are done for the moment. I’ll hear from you soon, I hope.” She picked up her briefcase and stood.
I nodded. “When we agreed.”
She stared hard at me for a moment before she turned and walked away.
During that interchange, Helen Louise and Diesel were greeting each other. Once Ms. Grimes was out of earshot, Helen Louise slid into the chair next to mine. Her hand still on the cat’s head, she said, “What was all that about?” Her glance fell on the book I held. “Something to do with that?”
“Yes.” I explained about the memoir as much as I could. I couldn’t discuss the diary’s claims about Jasper Singletary’s great-great-grandmother Celeste. “I’ll tell you the rest of it as soon as I can.”
“All right.” Helen Louise smiled. “I bet it’s a doozy of a story. Now, how about lunch?” She glanced around the room. “I’m shorthanded today, so I’m not going to be able to eat with you.”
“I understand,” I said. “Don’t worry about us. I’m sure you’ve picked out something wonderful as always.”
She leaned over to brush my cheek with her lips. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Diesel watched her go, then turned his head to look up at me and meow.
“She’ll be back with food,” I told him. “You’re going to get your treat like you always do. You’re not going to expire from starvation for another sixty seconds or so.”
He regarded me solemnly for a moment before he positioned himself to watch for Helen Louise’s return.