Читаем Claws For Concern полностью

“Yes, I am. Please, call me Ernie.” She flashed an attractive grin. “I have a feeling we’re going to be friends, and my friends call me Ernie.” She patted the sofa beside her.

“I will, if you’ll call me Charlie,” I said as I joined her. Helen Louise and the Ducote sisters occupied the sofa opposite us, and they were already involved in conversation.

“Done.” Ernie gave Diesel a couple more pats on the head. “I do indeed know Jack and his lovely wife, Wanda Nell. Both fine people that I am pleased to call friends.”

“Are you aware of Mr. Pemberton’s interest in me?” I said.

“Yes, he told me about the project,” Ernie replied.

“I read one of his books last night. It was excellent.”

“He’s an accomplished writer,” Ernie said. “I’ve never been much of a true crime reader myself, but I make an exception for his books.”

“I think I will, too,” I said. “Though generally I prefer my murders to be fictional.”

Ernie chuckled. “Well, not completely fictional, you must admit, Charlie.”

It took me a moment to catch on to what she meant, and then I had to laugh. Before I could respond, however, she continued.

“Actually, that’s something you and I have in common, along with Wanda Nell and Jack. Murder as a hobby, so to speak.”

SEVEN

Murder as a hobby? Those words took me aback. I wasn’t quite sure how to respond to Ernie’s comment. Apparently my expression revealed my confusion.

“Sorry, Charlie.” Ernie frowned. “I didn’t mean that to be as crass as it probably sounded. I’m afraid I tend to have a rather dark sense of humor, and it doesn’t always translate well.”

I nodded to acknowledge that I understood.

She continued, “Like you, I have a few times found myself involved in murder investigations, but not by choice.”

I smiled. “I didn’t choose to be associated with any of the murders, but generally I didn’t see much of an alternative.”

“Exactly,” Ernie replied, looking relieved. “That’s what happened to Wanda Nell and Jack, too, and I tell you this because I think it will help you see that Jack understands your experiences much better than another writer might.”

“I see your point,” I said. “My main concern is privacy. I prefer to remain out of the limelight. The credit really goes to our local sheriff’s department, namely the chief deputy, Kanesha Berry. She’s a remarkable woman.”

Ernie gazed at me, her expression skeptical. “I suspect you’re being far too modest, Charlie, but let’s leave it at that. I imagine Jack will want to interview Chief Deputy Berry, but his interest is more in the amateurs who find themselves involved in these cases.”

“I’m willing to talk to him to explore the possibility,” I said. “I have to be honest, though. On the whole, I think I’m still inclined to keep my accidental sleuthing activities out of the public eye.” I decided not to mention to Ernie that the local newspaper had thus far been circumspect about not including my name in articles about homicides in Athena the past several years. That was thanks to the reporter Ray Appleby. He had managed to enhance his own reputation, thanks to me, because Kanesha gave him exclusives on the cases. They both won acclaim, and I got to stay behind the scenes—exactly as I preferred. And now I was considering stepping into the public eye. Was I really ready for that?

Ernie regarded me, her eyes narrowed, and I began to feel uncomfortable. She didn’t appear pleased with me.

“Frankly, I think you aren’t quite ready to talk to Jack yet, Charlie.” Her expression softened. “Even though you just said you are willing, I don’t think you’re comfortable with that decision. Am I right?”

She had read me well. I nodded. “You’re right. I’m still uneasy at the thought of being in the public eye suddenly.”

Ernie chuckled, and that surprised me. “We’re back to the beginning, then. When I get back to Tullahoma, I can tell Jack that I met you and explain how you feel. He will probably try again, however, to persuade you.”

“That’s okay,” I said. “In the meantime I’ll think about it, and I might come to feel differently.”

“No harm done either way,” Ernie said.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t worry.” Ernie flashed a smile before she focused her attention on the conversation going on across the coffee table.

I leaned back and let the conversation flow around me. I soon became engrossed in my own thoughts. I felt relieved that Ernie understood my hesitation, but underneath I felt foolish. Surely I was old enough by now to know my own mind? Why was I having trouble making a firm decision?

Perhaps subconsciously I wanted the attention that would come if the public knew more about my role in the investigations in which I had assisted. Had I been hoping for that all along? Had I been suppressing a desire for acclaim?

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