File M For Murder

“We have mutual friends in LA, and one of them probably told her I was coming to Athena.” Laura shrugged. “Plus I’m sure she’s heard me talk about my father and remembered Dad’s name. Then all she had to do was look up the address in the phone book.”

“She sounds like a stalker to me,” I said.

My daughter put her arm around my waist. “Come on now, Dad, don’t start worrying. I promise you Damitra is harmless. To me, anyway. Connor’s the one who should be looking over his shoulder. She follows him everywhere.”

“Has she ever done anything physically aggressive toward you?” I wasn’t ready to drop the matter.

“No, she hasn’t. Just stupid little tricks like this.” Laura stepped back and crossed her arms over her stomach. Her nose wrinkled. “You don’t need to get all protective, either of you.” She glared at her brother. “I’m perfectly capable of handling this myself.”

Diesel rubbed against Laura, obviously bothered by her heightened emotions. “See, you’re upsetting Diesel, and that’s not good.” She crouched by the cat and cooed softly to him as she scratched his head.

I was still concerned, but I could see there was no point in discussing this further. I’d have a quiet word with Sean later, ask him to nose around and find out whether this Damitra Vane was in Athena. In the meantime I intended to keep an eye on Laura—as much as I could without riling her. “Let’s get back to preparing dinner,” I said. “You finish the salad, and I’ll reheat the risotto. Sean, you set the table.”

My children and my cat followed me into the kitchen. Laura applied herself to the salad and, once her back was turned, Sean and I exchanged glances. He gave a quick nod, and I knew he understood what I wanted.

“Will Justin be here for dinner?” Sean asked, his tone nonchalant as he pulled plates from the cabinet.

“No, he’s with his dad this weekend,” I said. “He’ll be back Sunday evening.”

Justin Wardlaw, a sophomore at Athena College, was my other boarder besides Stewart. When I inherited this large house from my late aunt Dottie, I kept up her tradition of renting rooms to students attending Athena. Justin boarded with me last year, and now he was almost family.

“How is he doing?” Laura asked. “He seemed like such a sweet kid when I was here for the holidays. I felt bad for him, after all he went through.”

“He’s doing fine.” I popped the dish of risotto into the oven and set the temperature and the timer. “He occasionally has some rough moments, but he’s handling everything well, considering.” Last fall Justin had been a suspect in a murder case and had suffered some serious personal losses. With his father and me, he had a strong support system, and Diesel, who adored him, was a huge help as well.

“The risotto will need about fifteen minutes to reheat,” I said. “In the meantime, shall we start on the salad?”

“Ta-dah.” Laura presented the bowl of leafy greens, peppers, and onion in a sweeping gesture and set it on the table.

After we each chose a drink for the meal, we sat down, and Laura dished out the salad. While we ate Laura regaled us with some amusing anecdotes from her recent auditions, and I listened for the buzzer on the oven.

Sean talked about a couple of the cases he’d worked on over the summer as we enjoyed the risotto. While he studied for the Mississippi bar exam, Sean was doing investigative work for Athena’s best-known lawyer, Q. C. Pendergrast and his associate, his daughter Alexandra. Sean and I met the legendary Pendergrast and Alexandra a few months ago when I was hired to inventory the rare book collection of one of the lawyer’s late clients, James Delacorte. Though Sean and Alexandra didn’t hit it off at first, they now worked well together, and I was beginning to suspect that Alexandra could very well be my daughter-in-law one of these days.

When we finished our meal, Sean insisted he would clean the kitchen and sent Laura and me off. We made ourselves comfortable on the couch in the living room. The cat sprawled between us, his head and upper torso in Laura’s lap, his back legs and tail against my leg. He was one blissful kitty. His purr rumbled, making the origin of his name obvious.

Laura wanted to hear more about the Delacorte murder case, and I obliged with a summary of the details. Laura loved mysteries as much as I did, and soon the conversation turned to books. Sean joined us then, and we talked for nearly three hours. Diesel remained between Laura and me the entire time, thoroughly content.

Around ten o’clock I yawned and declared that I was ready for bed. “You stay up as long as you like,” I said. Both my children were night owls, but I wasn’t. “Ready for bed, Diesel?”

The cat lifted his head from Laura’s lap and yawned at me. He rolled over and stretched as I stood up from the couch, and he meowed three times at Laura.