The Pawful Truth

by Miranda James

  Azalea stood once again at the stove with Ramses watching her intently.

  “Do you know if Stewart and Haskell will be joining us for dinner tonight?” I asked.

  “Yes, they’ll be here,” Azalea said. “I’ve already laid the dining room table for five, unless somebody else is coming.”

  “Better make it six,” I said. “Kanesha is going to join us.”

  Azalea turned quickly to face me. “What on earth for?” She didn’t sound pleased.

  “Business,” I said. “I don’t want to say anything more, but I need her here tonight.”

  Azalea turned back to the stove. “If you say so.”

  “I’ll go set the other place. Helen Louise is working at the bistro tonight.” I was glad of that. I didn’t want her to be involved in any unpleasantness that might take place in my dining room tonight.

  “All right,” Azalea said. “Everything will be ready by five thirty, and you can set it all in the dining room or serve from here.”

  “Thanks. What’s on the menu?” The aromas were tantalizing, but they mingled and were hard to separate.

  “Tomato soup. Stewart asked for that, now that it’s turning cold outside,” Azalea replied. “Salad, pork chops, asparagus, and mashed potatoes.”

  “Sounds, and smells, wonderful.” I headed for the dining room. Diesel remained in the kitchen.

  Once I finished setting the extra place at the table, I went back to the kitchen. I checked the time. Nearly five thirty. Azalea would be leaving soon.

  “Would you mind taking Ramses home with you for tonight?” I had thought about it while I was in the dining room. Unless I put him in his crate, he would be a pest at the table, egging Diesel on with his naughty behavior. He would howl if I put him in the crate when he could smell the food.

  Azalea frowned at me. “Why do you want me to take him?”

  I explained my reasons, and she shrugged. “All right, I guess it can’t hurt.” She checked her various pots and pans one last time and then made preparations to leave. She scooped up Ramses and put him in her bag. His head peeped out, and he meowed as if saying, Look at me.

  “You be good for Azalea,” I told him, and he meowed again.

  Once he and Azalea were safely out the door, I checked the stove to make sure everything would be okay while I dashed upstairs to freshen up. Diesel trotted up the stairs after me.

  I changed my shirt. I had discovered a small stain, no doubt from lunch earlier today, and didn’t want to look grubby in front of my guests. When I reached the head of the stairs, Diesel ran down ahead of me. I heard sounds issuing from the kitchen. I hurried down and found Stewart standing over the stove.

  He turned when I greeted him. “Hi, Charlie. Azalea told me that Dan is bringing a guest tonight. Irene Warriner, I think she said. Is that true?”

  “Yes, it is. Are you okay with that?” I asked.

  “Why not? It’s been a long time since I dined with the chief murder suspect,” he said cheekily. “I’m sure this will prove to be an interesting evening.”

  “You haven’t heard the best part,” I said. “Kanesha is going to be here, too.”

  He eyed me shrewdly. “Something’s up, then. Are you narrowing in on the killer? Is it really Irene Warriner?”

  “I don’t know. She’s the prime suspect, for various reasons, but I found out that Dan has been less than truthful about something.”

  “And what would that be?” Stewart asked.

  “He led us to think that Compton was his brother’s name,” I said. “Not a huge lie, I suppose, but still, he lied by omission, if nothing else.”

  “That’s a stupid thing to do,” Stewart said. “He had to know that the cops would find that out.”

  I shrugged. “I’d have thought so, but who knows? Listen, before anyone else gets here, can you think of anything Dan might have told you about his background? Where he grew up, that kind of thing? You said you chatted with him at the gym.”

  Stewart frowned. “I’ll have to think about it. At one point he mentioned the Gulf Coast. Biloxi, I think. He never said anything about his brother or his brother’s wife.” He paused, and after a moment, he resumed. “I seem to recall he said something about growing up kind of poor. He worked his way through school. Got a couple of scholarships, but they weren’t enough to cover everything. I got the impression his parents couldn’t do much for him in the way of financial support.”

  “That’s interesting,” I said. “Anything else?”

  Stewart shook his head. “No, he really didn’t talk about himself that much, other than the occasional remark about his students.” He grinned suddenly. “You know we professors always gripe about our students when we get together.”

  I laughed. “Yes, I’ve heard that. Haskell will be here, too, won’t he?”

  “Any minute,” Stewart said after a glance at the clock. He gestured to the stove. “Do you want to dish this all up and put it in the dining room, or should we let people fill their plates here?”

  “Whatever you think,” I said. “I’m fine either way.”

  “I say if we’re going to entertain a murderess at dinner, then we should do it properly,” Stewart said with an arch look. “I’ll get everything ready to put in the dining room on the sideboard.”

  “Tell me what to do, and I’ll help,” I said.

  Diesel, as usual, watched us carefully as we worked to get all the food safely transferred into the proper containers and then into the dining room. The time had just gone six when we finished and I heard someone at the front door.

  I walked into the hallway to see Haskell heading upstairs in his uniform. He liked to change out of it when he didn’t have to go back out later. He’d be back down quickly, efficient in anything he did. While I stood there, I heard a key in the lock. The door opened to admit Dan Bellamy, accompanied by Irene Warriner. I moved forward to greet them.

  Irene looked wan and tired, which didn’t surprise me. She had to be under tremendous strain. Dan, beside her, looked calm and unruffled, though he did glance at Irene with a concerned expression.

  “Good evening, Mrs. Warriner,” I said. “Welcome. I hope you’ll enjoy dinner tonight.”

  “Thank you, and please call me Irene,” she said, taking my extended hand. “May I call you Charlie?”

  “Of course,” I said. “And this is Diesel, if you remember.”

  Irene looked down at my cat, who had come up to her. She reached out and stroked him tentatively. “I thought about bringing Jonesy, my dog,” she said. “He’s so lonesome by himself, but I didn’t know how you felt about dogs.”

  “Stewart has a poodle, and he and Diesel play well together. Of course, Diesel is a good bit larger,” I said. “He hasn’t been around many other dogs, though, so I’m not sure how he would react to a strange one.”

  She continued to stroke Diesel’s head, with more assurance, and Diesel seemed happy for her to do so. Dan removed his coat and hung it on the rack, then he assisted Irene with hers.

  “We’ll be eating in the dining room tonight,” I said. “If you’d like to wash your hands, there’s a powder room under the stairs there.” I indicated the door.

  Irene smiled. “Thank you, that would be lovely. If you’ll excuse me.” She moved past us, and I turned to Dan. “How are you doing? I haven’t seen you lately.”

  Dan shrugged. “I’m fine. I’ve been busy with my classes as usual. Not much time for anything else.”

  “You’ve been looking after Irene, though,” I said.

  “A bit,” Dan said. “Thank you for allowing me to bring her here for dinner. I thought it would be better for her than sitting at home by herself with the dog. If she goes out anywhere, people stare at her and whisper behind her back. It’s been a considerable strain on her.”

  “I can certainly understand that.” The doorbe
ll rang, and I excused myself to answer it. Diesel reached the door before I did. I opened the door to admit Kanesha.

  I don’t know why I’d expected her to show up in uniform. Probably because I rarely saw her wear anything else. She had changed, however, into a smart black pantsuit with a white blouse and a string of pearls around her neck.

  She noted my surprise but did not say anything. “Good evening, Kanesha. I’m glad you could join us.”

  “Thank you for inviting me,” Kanesha said. “I always enjoy my mother’s cooking.”

  I let that little jab pass by. I shut the door behind her. Diesel regarded her for a moment, meowed, then trotted into the kitchen.

  Dan stood looking at the deputy, his expression unreadable. I had wondered how he and Irene would react to Kanesha’s presence tonight. They were free to leave, of course, but since Kanesha appeared out of uniform, maybe they would relax a bit and stay. I wondered at Kanesha’s strategy. I didn’t think her being out of uniform was going to stop her from being on duty. She was rarely ever not on duty.

  “Good evening, Dr. Bellamy,” Kanesha said. “I hear that you’re a fan of my mother’s cooking, too.”

  At this cordial remark, Dan seemed to loosen up somewhat. He nodded. “Yes, she’s a wonderful cook. Reminds me of my grandmother and the meals she used to make.”

  Irene Warriner emerged from the powder room and at first didn’t seem to realize who Kanesha was. Then her expression changed, and for a moment, I thought I read panic in her eyes.

  “Good evening, Mrs. Warriner,” Kanesha said.

  “Good evening, Deputy Berry,” Irene replied. “I must admit I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”

  “I’m a friend of the Harris family,” Kanesha said blandly.

  I looked up to see Haskell coming down the stairs. He always did it fast, and I envied him his ability to do it without stumbling and breaking his neck. These days I was a lot more cautious. He wore dark slacks and a white shirt, collar open at the neck, his sleeves rolled back to expose tanned wrists.

  “Good evening, everyone,” he said.

  I was watching Irene to gauge her reaction to the presence of another deputy. She closed her eyes briefly and inhaled, as if to steady herself. Surely Dan had told her about Haskell and his connection to Stewart and that he would possibly be present at dinner tonight. I doubted either Dan or Irene had expected to see both him and Kanesha at dinner, though. Irene now looked even more pale than before.

  “Let’s go into the dining room, shall we?” I said in a bright tone. “Azalea prepared an excellent meal for us. Stewart has been busy making sure everything is ready.” I led the way, and Dan and Irene followed me. Kanesha and Haskell, with Diesel, brought up the rear.

  I discovered that Stewart had filled the water glasses, and there was a pitcher of iced tea on the sideboard. He greeted everyone and directed them to their places. He had Irene sit to my left at the head of the table, with Dan across from her. Kanesha sat next to Dan, and Haskell next to Irene. That left Stewart at the other end of the table facing me. Azalea had earlier removed the leaf to accommodate the small number of this dinner party, so there were no gaps between anyone.

  “Now, who would like iced tea with dinner?” Stewart picked up the pitcher and glanced around. “If you’d like something stronger, I believe there’s wine in the fridge. It won’t take a moment to get it and a wineglass.”

  Everyone opted for tea, and Stewart filled the glasses, making a circuit around the table, starting with Irene. I watched her covertly, and I saw her hand shake a little when she reached for her water glass. She sipped at the water like she was dying of thirst.

  Stewart took his seat and looked at me. I hadn’t planned to say grace, as I always did at family meals. I gave a slight shrug. Stewart made the decision. “I’ll say grace,” he said.

  Dan looked startled, as did Kanesha, but they both bowed their heads. I fancied I could feel the tension emanating from Irene while Stewart intoned a simple prayer. After we had all said Amen, Stewart picked up the platter of chops and began passing them. He directed me to begin serving myself with the asparagus near my place.

  For a minute or so we were all occupied with sending the various dishes around the table. I was surprised that Stewart had changed his mind about putting everything on the sideboard. I wondered what had occasioned the change. I thought about various mysteries I’d read over the years, and I realized that he might have decided it was safer this way. It would be harder for someone to put poison on anything.

  I pushed away that macabre thought. I didn’t think Irene or Dan would dare try to poison someone tonight. Surely that hadn’t been Stewart’s reason, but I wouldn’t put it past him.

  Once everyone had been served, I glanced around the table. Irene stared at her plate, Dan kept darting glances at Kanesha, but Haskell seemed undisturbed by the atmosphere of unease. I was about to introduce a mild topic of conversation, the weather, when Irene shocked everyone by suddenly rising from her chair.

  “I can’t do this,” she cried. “It’s too much. I know you’re here to try to trap me.” She pointed a finger at Kanesha. “You think I’m a murderer.” She sobbed out the last word. “Then go ahead and arrest me and get it over with.” She sank back into her chair, suddenly gasping for breath, and then she fainted and slid out of her chair onto the floor.

  THIRTY-TWO

  I sat immobile, shocked by Irene Warriner’s collapse. Haskell, however, responded immediately. He thrust her chair out of the way and knelt beside her while I watched, praying that my fanciful notions of poison were no more than that. The only person in the room who might have tried to murder her was Dan Bellamy, and I couldn’t figure out when he would have had an opportunity to do so.

  I glanced at Dan beside me and was startled by his expression of anguish. He appeared to be frozen into place. Suddenly he burst into movement, knocking his chair back as he stood. “Oh my Lord, Irene. What’s wrong with her?” he demanded. “Save her, don’t let her die.”

  Kanesha grabbed him before he could charge around the table to get in Haskell’s way. He tried to shrug off her arm, but she exerted her strength and forced him back into his chair. “Bates knows what he’s doing,” she said. “Stay out of his way.”

  Dan glared at her, struggling to break free of her grip, but something in her expression must have convinced him she meant to keep him where he was. He subsided, but Kanesha didn’t let go of his arm.

  “Call 911,” Haskell said tersely. “Labored breathing. I’ll do mouth-to-mouth if necessary.”

  I was still too shaken to respond, but I saw Stewart, phone in hand, fulfilling Haskell’s order. Kanesha released her hold, and Dan went around to assist Haskell.

  “Don’t let her die,” Dan said, his tone verging on frantic. “She can’t die on me.” He no longer conveyed the manner of the detached friend. Now he had apparently let his true feelings for Irene surge to the surface, and I thought, He’s in love with her after all. His naked fear for Irene’s life had stripped away his façade.

  I heard the doorbell, and I jumped up. Diesel, who had been cowering under my chair, darted out of the room. The emergency services personnel had responded in record time, I thought, as I hurried to let them in.

  I flung open the door, after pushing Diesel out of the way and telling him to stay where he was. I expected several EMTs to rush in, but to my astonishment I found Armand d’Arcy on my front doorstep.

  “I must find Irène,” he said as he stepped inside. “Take me to her immediately. I must speak with her.” When I did not respond right away, he said in tones of rising impatience and panic, “Where is she?” He reached out as if to shake me, but the sound of approaching sirens, growing ever louder, stopped him.

  “She has collapsed,” I said. “The EMTs are coming here. You must get out of the way.”

  He darted around me and started
looking into each room along the hall until he found the dining room. He disappeared inside. I wanted to go after him but knew that Kanesha would deal with him. I needed to stay where I was to guide the EMTs.

  The time until the EMTs appeared on the walk, rushing toward the front door, seemed interminable but probably was no more than a minute and a half. Diesel had disappeared up the stairs, and I knew I’d find him on my bed, his head burrowed under a pillow.

  I directed the emergency crew to the dining room and trailed after them. There was nothing I could do, but I wanted to know if Irene Warriner was alive. The thought of a guest dying in my dining room was intolerable, but my concern was for Irene herself.

  When I reached the doorway and looked inside, I saw that Haskell had yielded his place to the crew. He now had a grip on Armand d’Arcy, who was screaming in French and struggling to get to Irene. Kanesha had her hands full with Dan Bellamy, who seemed to want to attack d’Arcy. Stewart had placed himself between the two duos, ready to run interference, I supposed, if necessary.

  One of the EMTs, a tall, muscular-looking woman, stood to address Kanesha. “She’s stable for the moment, but we need to get her to the ER. Can you clear the room?”

  “Yes,” Kanesha said. “To the kitchen.” She forcibly turned Dan toward the door and pushed him forward. I moved hastily out of the way to let them pass. A few seconds ticked by, during which I heard d’Arcy still yelling in French. Then Stewart and Haskell forced him, struggling the whole time, out of the dining room. He seemed frantic to get to Irene. Had he completely lost his mind? What did he think he could do for her at this moment?

  Stewart and Haskell didn’t give him a chance to do anything. They frog-marched him to the kitchen with me in their wake. I was prepared to coldcock him if he somehow got loose. I abhorred violence, but d’Arcy had irritated me to the point of being willing to hit him, if that was what it took to ensure his cooperation.

  I was concerned about Diesel, but I knew that he would be perfectly safe upstairs in my bedroom. I kept pace with the trio ahead of me, and when we reached the kitchen, I shut the door to the hall and stood with my back to it.