File M For Murder

“A queen’s prerogative,” Stewart said with a smirk. “Sometime I’ll tell you the whole, boring story, darlin’, but let me just say that I have my reasons.” He batted his eyelashes at my daughter. “And they are good.” He drew the last word out until it sounded like it had five syllables.

Sean snorted. “Promise me you’ll give up the Jack McFarland routine one of these days before you drive us all nuts, okay?”

Stewart and Laura both sputtered with laughter in response.

I stood patiently until the hilarity died down, trying not to smile. When the three of them sobered enough to focus on me, I said, “Time to get serious, gang. I’m going to call Kanesha and try to get her to listen to me. We’ve put together an interesting scenario, but we have no idea what kind of evidence she has. Maybe all she needs is some of the information we have, maybe not. But I want this resolved as soon as possible, because I don’t like the notion of my family being under a threat of more violence.”

Diesel came up to me and rubbed against my legs, meowing as he did so. I knew he had picked up on the turmoil I was feeling, a mixture of excitement and dread. I scratched his head and murmured to him that everything was all right, and he stopped talking and relaxed against me.

“Of course, Dad,” Sean said. “Whatever you want us to do, just tell us.”

“Thanks, son. I know I can count on you.” I paused. “The main thing is to stick together and not let Levi or Sarabeth get close to any of us until this is over.”

“Are you convinced it’s them, and not the Johnstons?” Stewart put a restless Dante on the floor, and the dog ran toward the utility room and his water bowl.

“Yes, I am.” I scratched Diesel’s head because I could feel him getting skittish again. “Because of Hubert Norris, primarily. His death was too convenient. It has to be linked to the present.”

“I think you’re right,” Stewart said. “I don’t know about y’all, but I’m hungry. That I can do something about. How about I get dinner started while Charlie calls Wonder Woman?”

“Good idea,” Laura said. “I’m hungry, too. I’ll help.”

“Me, too,” Sean said. “Unless you need me for something, Dad.”

“No, go ahead. I’m going to the den and call Kanesha from there.”

Diesel came along with me to the den. I sat at the desk, and he climbed onto the sofa and nestled into his afghan. He meowed a couple of times, as if inviting me to join him. I knew what he wanted, of course—back scratches and belly rubs, for which he would reward me with purring and warbling.

“In a minute, boy,” I said. “Have to make this phone call first.”

I didn’t relish the forthcoming talk with Kanesha. She might still be aggravated over the scene with her mother the other day. I couldn’t help being in the middle of it, but Kanesha wasn’t quite rational when it came to her mother. I wasn’t afraid of her. I simply didn’t like confrontation that much. Talking to her always felt more like confrontation than conversation.

Still, I had provided helpful information in two previous investigations, so maybe she’d be willing to listen to me this time.

I punched in the number that I knew all too well these days and waited for a response. “Could I speak to Chief Deputy Berry, please? It’s Charlie Harris, and I have some urgent news for her.”

The voice on the other end expressed regret that the chief deputy wasn’t available and I was welcome to leave a message and a callback number. With a distinct feeling of anticlimax, I repeated that my need to speak with her was urgent and gave my cell number. “She can call me at any time.”

I received further assurances that the message would be delivered, and that was that. I set my cell phone down and stared at the papers on the desk.

I didn’t know how long it would be before Kanesha returned my call. Minutes? Hours? It was frustrating not being able to unburden myself and turn it all over to her.

Sean interrupted my mental stewing. “Dad, can we talk a minute?”

I turned to see him entering the den. I nodded. “What is it?”

“Just got off the phone with Alexandra,” he said as he perched on the edge of the sofa. Diesel shifted position and pushed his hind paws against Sean’s leg—a clear signal that Sean was supposed to give him attention. Sean grinned and started rubbing the cat’s tummy. “She really needs me tomorrow morning. She has to take a deposition in Tupelo and wants me to go with her. Can you be Laura’s bodyguard until I get back, probably sometime after lunch?”

“Of course. I’ll call Melba first thing in the morning and let her know I won’t be in.”

“Sorry you have to miss work again.” Sean stood, and Diesel grumbled at the removal of the attentive hand on his stomach. “Have you talked to Kanesha yet?”

“Missing work isn’t a problem,” I said. “And no, I haven’t talked to Kanesha. She wasn’t available, and I had to leave a message.”

“Irritating,” Sean said with a sympathetic smile. He knew how impatient I could be in situations like this. “Dinner won’t be long. I’ll give you a holler when it’s ready.”