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“What happened? I’m sorry. I know it must be painful for you to talk about.” I hated to make her dredge up sorrow-laden memories, but I needed to understand the situation.

Kanesha shrugged, but her gaze hardened. “Johnny Golliday was my mother’s sister’s only son. Her only child, as a matter of fact. He started getting in trouble when he was thirteen or fourteen, nothing too serious. At least, no felonies. But my aunt was always there to bail him out. He was in his twenties when he got mixed up with a rougher crowd, started getting into bigger trouble. Spent some time in jail.”

Suddenly Kanesha got up from the chair and began to pace. “Johnny going to prison like to’ve killed my aunt. My mother, too. They’re both proud women, and Johnny was the first one in the family who ever spent time behind bars.” She came back to the chair and gripped the back of it with both hands as she looked at me. “But he was doing better, had a job, was living at home, helping his mother take care of his father who was a quadriplegic.” Her voice cracked slightly.

She let go of the chair and turned away a moment. When she faced me again she seemed to have regained her composure. Behind me, Diesel moved restlessly on the windowsill. He muttered in that peculiar way of his, and I knew he was unsettled by the tension emanating from Kanesha.

I felt at a loss, because I had never seen her this vulnerable. In my way I was as uncomfortable as Diesel. My normal response would have been to go to her, give her a hug or at least a friendly shoulder squeeze, but Kanesha and I didn’t have that kind of relationship. My heart went out to her, because I could imagine how painful all this was for her.

Kanesha resumed her seat. “One day nearly ten years ago, Johnny went to the bank with a couple of his so-called friends. What they didn’t tell him was they were planning to rob the bank.”

“Oh, no.” The words slipped out before I could stop myself. I could see the scene unfolding in my mind, and I didn’t like the picture.

Kanesha didn’t appear to have heard my comment. “When they reached the bank, one of the men pulled a gun and told Johnny he was going to help them. Johnny tried to get away, but he was terrified they would shoot him. So he went into the bank with friend number one while number two waited in the car.” She paused for a couple of deep breaths. “Johnny wasn’t too coordinated, always dropping things, stumbling, and the idiot with him made him take a gun. He was terrified of them. Johnny said he was shaking so hard he dropped the gun three times.”

“What happened when they made it into the bank?”

“Stupidity, that’s what happened.” Kanesha’s tone turned vicious. “Idiot number one was trigger-happy and ended up shooting one of the tellers and pistol-whipping a customer.”

“Oh, my Lord,” I said, appalled. “Did the teller die?”

“No, thankfully,” Kanesha replied. “It could have been worse in so many ways, if Johnny’s so-called friend wasn’t so inept. Johnny stumbled all over the place, and it was his bad luck he tripped and fell onto another customer. Vera Cassity. Knocked her down and she banged her head on the floor. At the trial she claimed he threatened her with his gun. Said he’d kill her if she made a sound.”

Kanesha slumped back in the chair, eyes closed. “The police arrived in less than two minutes. Caught them still inside the bank. Johnny was sentenced to thirty years in the state pen. Wasn’t eligible for parole because he was convicted for armed robbery. Might have received a lighter sentence—not that it mattered in the long run—but Vera Cassity, egged on by the prosecutor, made it sound like the only reason she wasn’t killed was because the police arrived so quickly.” She opened her eyes and stared at me, though I wasn’t sure she actually saw me. “Johnny insisted he dropped the gun right after he entered the bank, but nobody could attest to that. With Vera swearing he threatened her with it, nobody believed him.”

“Except his family,” I said softly. I had to consider that Kanesha was prejudiced in her cousin’s favor, but if he was truly uncoordinated and afraid of guns, I could see him dropping the thing and not bothering to pick it up again.

Kanesha nodded. “I knew my cousin, Mr. Harris, and I believed him. I knew what a klutz he was and how scared he would have been. If he said he dropped the gun and only stumbled into Vera Cassity, then that’s what happened.”

“Where does murder come into it, then?”

“Two and a half years after Johnny went to the state pen, he was killed by a couple of the other inmates.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said, knowing the words were completely inadequate.

“Aunt Lily was devastated, and so was my mother. They blamed Vera Cassity—mainly because she was so nasty in the courtroom. He would have gone to prison regardless, but the way Vera talked him down, well, they just couldn’t forgive her.” She threw up her hands. “The whole thing was so freakin’ stupid, from beginning to end.”

I waited a moment before I spoke, trying to marshal my thoughts. I could understand why Azalea and her sister Lily had taken against Vera so harshly, but I honestly couldn’t see that their feelings translated into an active motive for murder.

I voiced that to Kanesha, and she nodded. “I agree with you. Mama and Aunt Lily hated Vera like you wouldn’t believe, but neither one of them would ever have laid a hand on her.”

“But the sheriff obviously disagrees,” I said.

“Up to a point.” Kanesha shook her head. “Once he thinks he’s done me enough damage, he’ll ease off my mother.”

“What are you going to do about it in the meantime?”

“Do my best to figure out who really killed Vera,” Kanesha said. “But it can’t look like I’m doing it. That’s where you come in.”

I wasn’t completely flabbergasted. I had helped her on previous cases, pretty sub rosa as well, but her words sounded more like an order than a request. “I’ll do what I can to help, naturally.”

“Good. The first thing I want you to do is to talk to my mother. She won’t talk to me about it, no matter what I say to her.” I could hear the frustration in her voice.

“What makes you think she’ll talk to me?” I quailed at the thought of cornering Azalea and persuading her to talk to me.

“I’m not sure she will,” Kanesha admitted. “But you’ve got to try. I know she likes and respects you.”

“Really?” With Azalea I had never been able to tell what she thought of me. Most of the time I felt like an inept schoolboy when she was around.

Kanesha nodded. “Oh, I know what she’s like, believe me. Makes you feel like you can’t even tie your own shoes without someone helping you. But that’s just her way. She doesn’t tolerate fools, and to her a lot of the world is filled with fools. But she doesn’t think you’re one of them.” She graced me with a brief smile.

There was no point in holding out. The moment I’d agreed to do what the Ducote sisters wanted, I knew I’d have to talk to Azalea. “Okay, I’ll talk to her.”

“How about now?” Kanesha stood. “The sooner, the better. We need to find out whether Mama saw anything. That’s the thing that really puzzles me. She had to be in that stairwell when Vera fell down the stairs, so surely she must’ve seen whoever pushed Vera.”

“But why isn’t she saying anything?”

“Exactly my point.” She stared hard at me. “So when are you going to talk to her?”

“I’m at work,” I said. “I can’t just walk out and go play detective.” Actually I could probably have the time off, but I really dreaded confronting Azalea.

“You couldn’t get some time off today? Surely they’d understand, after what happened.”

I sighed. “You’re right. I’ll see if I can’t take the rest of the day off. The sooner I talk to Azalea and get it over with, the better.”

“Thanks. I appreciate this.” She handed me a card. “My private cell phone number is on the back. Call me if you turn up anything significant.”