I decided to intervene before the situation became more ridiculously childish. “Diesel is a very sociable cat, Miss Pendergrast. He is simply greeting you, the way he greets anyone he finds interesting.”
“Oh.” Alexandra colored again. “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, Mr. Harris.” She was pointed in directing the apology at me. “I suppose I’m a little nervous around cats. Dogs too, for that matter. My mother wouldn’t allow them in the house, so I never had the chance to get used to them.”
Those last words sounded wistful, and I felt a pang for a little girl who wasn’t allowed the joy of a kitten or puppy to play with and love.
“Give him a rub on the head.” I leaned forward and suited deed to words. “Like that. He won’t bite you.”
Alexandra hesitated but then did as I suggested. Her hand trembled as she stroked Diesel, but then she grew more confident and scratched him behind the ears. He rewarded her with a contented rumble.
“I guess that means he likes it.” Alexandra withdrew her hand and straightened her back. “He sounds like a car engine when he does that.”
Sean laughed. “That’s how he got his name—Diesel.”
Alexandra ignored him. “I had better press on with business. My father asked me to stop by and see how the inventory is going.”
Sean spoke before I could respond. “He sent you to check up on us. Well, you can tell him the work is going well and that we could even be finished by the end of the day.”
“Is that true?” Alexandra appeared determined not to acknowledge Sean directly. She looked straight at me when she spoke.
“We’re certainly going to try,” I said. “You might want to talk with Deputy Berry. Apparently, the FBI is sending an agent here to take over the investigation into the stolen items.” As I spoke those last words, I realized I might have put my foot in it. Were the Pendergrasts aware that Sean and I had discovered that the set of Faulkner novels had been replaced by inferior copies?
Alexandra nodded, and I felt relieved. “Deputy Berry has already communicated with our office. My father and I appreciate the work you’ve done so far. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve—”
Loud knocks interrupted her. She turned as Deputy Bates opened the door.
“Hello, officer. I’m looking for Charlie Harris.”
I winced as I recognized the strident tones of Anita Milhaus. What did the woman want with me?
Evidently, Anita tried to push her way past the deputy, because I could see the door wobble until Bates grasped it firmly and held it.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said. “Only certain people are allowed to enter this room.”
“Oh, good grief, how ridiculous.” Anita’s voice came through all too loud and clear. “This beats all I’ve ever seen. I only want to talk to the man for a moment.”
I waited to see what Bates would do before I injected myself into the conversation. The deputy said in a polite but firm tone, “If you’ll wait in the hall, ma’am, I’ll get Mr. Harris for you.” He closed the door, and I could hear muffled muttering coming from the other side of it.
Bates turned toward me. “You want to talk to this lady?”
I started to say “Not really” but realized I couldn’t do that, not without sounding as childish as Sean and Alexandra had not so long before. I stepped forward and opened the door. I stood in the opening and glanced around for Anita.
She sat on the chair by the door, a large canvas tote bag in her lap.
“What can I do for you, Anita?”
She scowled at me. “I don’t see why I can’t come in there. It’s not civilized to talk out in the hall like this. I can tell you, in my family we certainly don’t treat people this way.”
“I’m sure you don’t,” I said. “If you don’t want to talk in the hall, then, why don’t you go to the parlor and wait for me there. I won’t be three minutes, I promise.”
Anita didn’t appear too happy with my suggestion, but she nodded. “And make sure it’s no more than three minutes. I’ve got things to do.” As she turned in the direction of the parlor, the bag over one shoulder, the light in the hallway caught her wrist. The diamond bracelet sparkled briefly before Anita walked away.
I walked back to where Alexandra and Sean waited in silence, not looking at each other.
“Who was that, Dad?” Sean kept his gaze averted from Alexandra.
“Anita Milhaus. You remember me telling you about her.”
Sean grimaced. “Her. What does she want?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m about to find out.” I turned to Alexandra. “If you don’t have any more questions, I’ll just go and see what Anita wants.”
“I’m done,” Alexandra said with a warm smile. She didn’t look in Sean’s direction. “I’ll walk out with you.”
“I’ll be back in a few minutes, Sean. It shouldn’t take long.”
Sean nodded and turned away. Diesel, however, decided to accompany me. That surprised me, because he didn’t care much for Anita. When he found her in the parlor waiting for me, he would wish he had stayed with Sean.
“Do you work with Anita?” Alexandra posed the question as we stepped into the hall.
“I volunteer at the public library and work with her there on occasion,” I said. “Do you know her well?”
“More than I’d like,” Alexandra said with a little laugh. “I have to put up with her niece at the office, and the two of them are always chatting on the phone. It’s rather annoying.”
I lowered my voice as we neared the parlor. “I’m surprised you put up with that kind of behavior in an employee. Is she a secretary?”
“No, she’s a paralegal. She works mostly with my dad, thank goodness, and she’s pretty good at her work, so he ignores her bad habits.”
By now we had reached the door of the parlor. “If you should need anything, Mr. Harris, please feel free to call me.” Alexandra extended a hand for me to shake.
“Thank you. I sure will, if the need arises.” Her clasp was warm and firm. Diesel warbled again for her, and she stroked his head a couple of times before she left.
I paused in front of the parlor door, steeling myself to deal with Anita. If I could come up with some gambit to worm information out of her, I would have even more to report to Kanesha. With that in mind, I opened the door and entered, Diesel at my heels.
Anita was wandering around the room, picking up small objects and putting them back down. She was so intent on what she was doing, I was able to observe her for a minute without her realizing I was in the room. When she did catch sight of me and my cat, she started and almost dropped the small figurine she had picked up. She set it down quickly and moved around a table and a couple of chairs to approach me.
“There you are,” she said with a frown. “I was just about to leave. I really can’t dillydally around here, Charlie. I’ve got to get to Memphis to catch a plane.”
“Sorry to hold you up,” I said, “but I had to finish talking with someone else who had come by to see me. I believe you know her: Alexandra Pendergrast.”
“Miss Lah-di-dah, of course I know
her
.” Anita’s mouth twisted in what I took to be disdain. “My niece works for her father, and the stories I could tell you. My niece tells me what goes on there, and if people only knew.” She broke off. “You’re making me forget what I wanted to talk to you about.”
From the corner of my eye I saw Diesel sniffing around the large canvas bag Anita had been carrying. It was on the floor by one of the sofas, and evidently something in it intrigued my cat. I didn’t think he’d do any harm by sticking his head in the bag, so I didn’t say anything.
“Oh, yes,” I said. “What can I do for you?”
“I need you to work for me at the library the next couple of days while I make a quick trip.” Anita offered me a coy smile. “If this wasn’t urgent, I wouldn’t think of imposing on you, but I really do need a favor.”
Unlike the previous several times she had imposed on me, with exactly the same excuse. I suppressed a sigh.
“I’m not sure if I can,” I said. “I’m working on something here, and I don’t know whether I’ll be done in time to work for you tomorrow or Friday.”
“Oh, yes, I heard about what you’re doing. Inventorying that collection of musty old books.” Anita laughed. “So how’s it going? Found any surprises?”
While Anita spoke, I had been covertly glancing at Diesel. He had her bag on its side, and his head and shoulders were inside it. I really should reprimand him, and if the bag had belonged to anyone else, I probably would have.
Anita drew my attention back to her with that second question. “Surprises? What kind of surprises?” Would she admit to knowing that Mr. Delacorte suspected items from the collection were missing?
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, her tone nonchalant. “I never got to see the collection, so who knows what’s in it.”
I was no longer paying attention to her, because my cat had pulled a wad of clothing and other objects out of Anita’s bag and was now digging among them. “Diesel, stop that, right now.”
The cat froze for a moment at the sound of my command, but then he resumed his search. Whatever was in there was something he obviously wanted in the worst way. Normally he was good about obeying me.
I started forward, and when Anita realized what was going on, she started screeching and pushed me out of the way to get to Diesel.
Diesel froze again, but this time he had something in his mouth. I kept up with Anita because I was afraid she might strike the cat, and I wasn’t going to let that happen, even if I had to push her out of the way.
Diesel had found a Baggie of cheese chunks in Anita’s tote, and he scrambled under the sofa with it. As Anita squatted to retrieve her things, I got down beside her to peer under the sofa. I had to stop my errant feline before he got into that cheese. He could tolerate small amounts of cheese, but too much would make him sick.
Without meaning to, I had put my knee on some of Anita’s things. Her loud screech in my ear startled me, and I moved my knee. Anita snatched up the sweater I had knelt on, and underneath it was a clear archival folder like the ones I used to protect valuable documents for the college library.
Anita grabbed at it, but her fingers slipped. When she reached for it again, I latched on to her hand.
I had seen what was in that folder.
Tamerlane
.
THIRTY-TWO
I figured Diesel had earned his cheese. I wasn’t worried about him eating the Baggie. He knew how to get into one and extract the contents. I had to hope he wouldn’t try to devour all the cheese before I had a chance to stop him.
Anita wrenched her hand out of my grasp. The momentum caused her to fall out of her squatting position and land hard on the floor on her behind.
I pulled my handkerchief out of my pants pocket and used it to pick up the archival folder. I stood and looked down at Anita. “Your trip out of town wouldn’t have anything to do with this, would it? Found a buyer already?”
Anita didn’t respond. I could almost see the wheels turning in her brain as she labored to find a reply. She scrambled to her feet, and I thought she was going to bolt. I moved between her and the door, but I had misread her intentions. She scurried over to the bell near the fireplace and slammed her hand against the button.
“Thanks,” I said. “When Truesdale responds to that, I’ll ask him to call the sheriff’s department for me. Deputy Berry is going to be mighty interested in this.” I brandished the folder. “And how you came by it.”
Anita squared her shoulders. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. That’s mine, I’ll have you know.”
“Oh, really.” I couldn’t believe the nerve of the woman. “That’s really interesting. Mr. Delacorte had a copy of it, too.”
Anita’s eyes widened. “He did?” She was doing her best to appear surprised. “Now isn’t that an odd coincidence. I had no idea. Imagine, two copies of
Tamerlane
in Athena.”
“Yes, imagine that.” I found it interesting that she had made no further attempts to take the folder away from me. She remained near the fireplace and didn’t take her eyes off me.
I remembered Diesel and the cheese. I called out to him, and his head appeared from under the sofa. “Come here, boy,” I said. “You’ve had enough cheese.”
He meowed twice before he crawled from under the sofa and made his way to my side.
“That damn cat.” Anita threw Diesel an angry look. “He ought to stay at home, where he belongs.”
I didn’t bother to reply. I heard the door open. I turned to see Truesdale enter the room.
“Someone rang?” He paused a few feet away from me and glanced back and forth between me and Anita a couple times. Then he spotted the folder I held, and he frowned.
Anita ran to him with her arms open. “Oh, Nigel, it’s so awful. Charlie stole that thing, whatever it is, and now he’s going to try to tell people he found it in my bag. You can’t let him get away with that.”
I was so shocked I almost dropped the folder. “Don’t be ridiculous, Anita. When the FBI investigates, I’m sure they’ll find your fingerprints all over this.”