Classified as Murder (5 page)

“Thank you,” I said. “Then we have a deal. Would you like me to start on Monday morning?”

“Yes. How about nine o’clock?”

“That’s fine,” I said. “One more thing, before I forget, though. Do you have any idea who might be pilfering from your collection?”

“There are several possibilities,” Mr. Delacorte said. “Sadly, I fear they are all members of my family.” He paused as an idea seemed to strike him. “Perhaps it would be a good idea for you to meet them all before you start the job on Monday. Are you available this afternoon at four?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Excellent,” he said. “Then I’ll expect you for tea. It’s an afternoon custom in my home, a legacy of the years I lived in England several decades ago. And do bring Diesel with you.” He rose and extended his right hand.

I stood to shake his hand. “We’ll see you this afternoon at four. Now, let me just put on Diesel’s leash, and we’ll go downstairs to let you out of the building.”

A couple of minutes later, the front door locked behind us, Diesel and I bade good-bye to Mr. Delacorte. I waited until he was in his car and driving away before I turned to head for home. The morning was pleasant, not too cool, not too warm, and the walk home was most enjoyable.

Sean’s car was gone, I noticed when we approached our block. I hoped he hadn’t changed his mind about staying with me. Surely he wouldn’t have gone back to Texas.

By the time we reached the front walk, I could hear barking coming from inside the house. Feeling oddly reassured by Dante’s racket, I opened the front door, being careful not to let the excited poodle out. Dante moved out of reach when Diesel batted at him. I managed to squeeze in and shut the door, only to discover shreds of newspaper all over the hall and on the first three steps of the staircase. Dante had done what all bored, unhappy dogs do when they’re left alone. I felt sorry for the poor little guy, but I was going to leave this mess for Sean to clean up.

After removing Diesel’s harness, I checked the water and dry food supply in the utility room. Then I went upstairs to change into more casual weekend clothes.

By the time Diesel and I returned downstairs about twenty minutes later, Sean was back and in the kitchen, putting some bottles of beer in the refrigerator. Dante’s mess was gone, and the poodle lay on the floor a few feet away from Sean, his head down on his front paws. Diesel padded over to the dog and sat down beside him.

“Sorry about the newspaper, Dad,” Sean said as he shut the door of the fridge. “I scolded Dante for making such a mess. I don’t know how he got hold of the newspaper unless he jumped on the table somehow.”

I pointed to one of the chairs around the table, pushed back several inches. “He probably hopped up into the chair and then onto the table. But there’s no real harm done. He simply wasn’t happy about being left alone.”

“I know,” Sean said. “But I can’t take him everywhere I go. That’s just nuts.”

Two seconds later, he realized what he’d said. He started to apologize, but I waved it away. “Again, no harm done. You aren’t the first person to think I’m eccentric because Diesel goes almost everywhere with me.” I grinned. “Every Southern family worth anything has at least one eccentric among its ranks. And I’m it for the Harris clan.”

“I’ll keep that in mind when Laura and I arrange for the competency hearings,” he said, totally deadpan.

This was more like the Sean I knew, always ready with a witty retort. He did look better this morning after a good night’s sleep. All he needed now was plenty of good food to put back on some much-needed weight, and he’d be back to normal—physically, at least.

“Did you have breakfast? When I came down this morning it looked like you’d been up at some point and had something to eat.” I went to the sink for a glass of water.

“That was a snack about three this morning,” Sean said. “I stopped at a fast-food place just now and had something before I went to the grocery store.” He snapped his fingers, and Dante’s head popped up. “Come on, dog, I think you need to run around in the backyard and burn up some of that restless energy. See you later, Dad.”

Dante followed Sean toward the door into the hall, and Diesel went with them.

“Hold on a second, Sean,” I said, and he turned to look back at me. “About lunch. I thought I might take you to one of my favorite places. It’s about a fifteen-minute walk from here, and we can take the guys with us.”

“Must be an interesting place if it allows animals,” Sean said. He shrugged. “Sure, why not? When do you want to go?”

“Eleven,” I said.

“See you then.” Sean disappeared down the hall with his two companions.

I finished my glass of water and thought about Sean’s manner toward me. He was polite, but distant. Perhaps I could get him to open up a little more during the walk or over lunch. The more I could get him to relax, the better. I decided I’d read until it was time to leave and went upstairs to my bedroom.

At eleven Sean met me at the front door with Dante on his leash. “So, where are we going?” Sean asked when we were outside on the front walk.

“The square. There’s a French bakery there, and the owner, Helen Louise Brady, is an old friend of mine and your mother’s.”

“Sounds interesting.” Sean glanced at me briefly. “Lunch will be my treat.”

“Sure. Helen Louise has a limited lunch menu, but everything on it is delicious.” During the walk I told Sean about the job Mr. Delacorte wanted me to do. He whistled when I told him the hourly rate. “That’s more than a lot of lawyers make.”

“It’s extremely generous, but I didn’t try to argue with him.”

“What about this family of his?” Sean said. “Do you know any of them?”

“No, I don’t,” I replied. “And I’ll admit I’m very curious about them. Especially if one of them is stealing books from the collection.”

“You’d better hope whoever’s doing it doesn’t turn nasty when they find out what you’re doing there.” Sean tugged at Dante’s leash when the poodle stopped to sniff at a shrub.

“That’s for Mr. Delacorte to handle,” I said firmly.

A few minutes later we arrived at Helen Louise’s place, and Sean stopped by an empty table on the patio. “If you want to go in first, I’ll stay out here and watch the guys.” He indicated Diesel and Dante with a nod.

I smiled. “It’s okay. Helen Louise spent some time in Paris. Having animals in the bakery doesn’t bother her.”

“Isn’t it a violation of the health code here to have them inside?” Sean frowned, looking very stern and lawyerish.

“Technically, yes, but I take Diesel in with me all the time. So far no one’s raised a fuss about it. And if anyone does, Helen Louise would probably kick them out and not let them back in.” I laughed as I opened the door and motioned for Sean and Dante to precede me and Diesel.

Sean shrugged. “If you say it’s okay.” Dante, already excited by the delicious smells, strained at his leash.

I glanced at my watch. Our leisurely walk had taken us twenty minutes, but we were still here well before the usual Saturday lunch crowd. Helen Louise stood behind the counter, chatting with a customer. I approached, Sean right behind me, and waited until Helen Louise finished.

“Charlie, you sure know how to make a Saturday sparkle. How lovely to see you.” Helen Louise smiled broadly. Then she noticed Sean with me, and she arched one eyebrow. “And who is this
très beau
young man with you?” She extended a hand across the counter. “You must be Sean.”

“
Merci, mam’selle. Tu est très gentille.
” Sean clasped her hand briefly and smiled back at her.

Sean’s French accent was pretty good, to judge by Helen Louise’s delighted expression. “
Et tu est très charmant, m’sieur
.”

Dante jumped up several times, and Helen Louise grinned. “
Et le petit chien aussi
.”

“Now that you’ve officially shown off how cosmopolitan you both are, can we talk about lunch?” I smiled to show that I was teasing, and Sean laughed along with Helen Louise.

“
Certainment, mon cher
. What would you like?” Helen Louise thought a moment. “We have fresh quiche,
au gruyère
or sausage, cheese, and onion. There’s also
salade niçoise
or a spring mix salad with my special dressing.”

Sean grimaced at the mention of the first salad choice. He didn’t care for tuna and anchovies any more than I did. “I’ll have the sausage, cheese, and onion quiche with the spring mix salad. And still water.” He turned to me. “Dad?”

“I’ll go for the same. Thanks, son. And be sure to save room for dessert. You won’t regret it.” I patted my stomach.

“You two have a seat over there.” Helen Louise indicated a table in the corner near the cash register. “I’ll have your food out in a few minutes, and then you can fill me in on what you’ve been up to lately. It seems like forever since I’ve seen you.”

“It’s a deal.” I smiled as Helen Louise whisked away.

Sean and I made ourselves comfortable, and Dante and Diesel settled down beneath the table, almost nose to nose. I was glad to see they were still getting along so well.

True to her word, Helen Louise was back in less than five minutes. She set our salads, quiches, and water before us with a flourish. She had also brought two bowls and extra bottles of water for her four-legged guests. While Helen Louise went back to fetch some coffee for herself, Sean and I gave the boys their water first and then dug into our food with gusto. I was hungrier than I realized.

A shrill voice interrupted my concentration and startled both Sean and me.

“What are those filthy animals doing in here?”

Sean and I turned at the same time. Standing not three feet from our table was a rotund little robin of a woman with red hair teased into an upswept hairdo that must have added six inches to her height. Hands on hips, body a-tremble, she regarded Diesel and Dante with an expression of horror.

“
They
aren’t bothering anyone.” Sean stood and glared down at the woman. “
They
are minding their own business.”

“That’s as may be.” The woman’s tone in response was as acid as Sean’s was sarcastic. “
They
are still filthy animals, and
they
have no business in a place where people are eating.”

Before either Sean or I could respond, Helen Louise entered the fray, coffee cup in hand. She tapped the woman on the shoulder with her free hand, and she turned to face Helen Louise, obviously annoyed by the interruption.

Helen Louise didn’t give her a chance to speak.

“Mary Anna Milligan, I’d like to know who gave
you
the right to call anybody a filthy animal. Do the words edible panties ring any bells with you?”

The transformation of Mrs. Milligan was astonishing. Her face outshone her hair in redness, and I swear her beehive deflated at least an inch. Her mouth flopped open but not a sound came out.

“I’ll thank you to remember that this is
my
place of business, and I’d sooner have that dog and cat in here than some people I could name.” Helen Louise had the light of battle in her eye, and it would have taken a troop of Amazons at this point to make her back down.

Mary Anna Milligan was apparently not tough enough. She muttered something as she whirled away and practically ran out of the bakery. Several other customers who had evidently overheard the whole exchange laughed, and one woman clapped and called out, “That’s telling her, honey.”

Sean had dropped back into his chair, and from his expression I could tell he was as taken aback by the whole scene as I was. I checked under the table, and Diesel and Dante didn’t seem to have paid much attention to the human fracas. Diesel was cleaning a paw, and Dante was gnawing on his leash.

Helen Louise, grinning broadly, sat down across from me.

“Who the heck was that?” Sean almost sputtered the words, because he was laughing now. “You really gave her what for.”

“You certainly did.” I laughed. “Remind me never to annoy you, my friend.”

Helen Louise grinned impishly. “You’d do well to remember this.” She sipped at her coffee.

Sean leaned closer to Helen Louise and spoke in an undertone. “So what’s the story with the edible panties?”

I confess I was rather curious myself.

Helen Louise arched an eyebrow as she regarded us. “Well, it’s like this. Mary Anna Milligan is about as self-righteous a pillar of the community as you can find, always telling the rest of the world how to run their lives and be as upstanding and
fine
as she and her husband are.” She paused, deliberately, I’m sure, knowing how interested we were in this titillating bit of gossip.

“One of my girlfriends has a brother who likes to visit what you might call businesses with a very unusual kind of stock in Memphis. Understand what I’m talking about?” Helen Louise smiled.

Sean and I exchanged glances and quickly looked away. I was sure we both knew what Helen Louise was talking about.

She continued, “Well, my friend’s brother was in one of those stores about four months ago, looking around, and lo and behold, who should come in but Mary Anna and her fine upstanding husband, Raymond. And guess what they were looking for?” She had another sip of coffee.

“And I suppose you were just waiting for the appropriate moment to mention that little bit of knowledge to Mrs. Milligan?” I tried to keep the amusement out of my voice. Helen Louise never could resist taking the mickey out of someone like Mrs. Milligan.

“Of course.” Helen Louise’s expression was smug. “I knew sooner or later she’d annoy me enough that I’d come out with it. She’ll never show her face in here again, and that’s fine with me.” She nodded in the direction of Sean’s half-empty plate.

“What do you think?” she asked as both Sean and I resumed eating.

“
Magnifique
.” Sean enunciated carefully between mouthfuls of quiche.