“Yes, ma’am,” Kanesha said. “Cooking will be a challenge for a while, but that’s about the worst of it.”
“Good,” An’gel said. She looked at Dickce. Dickce looked back at her, willing An’gel to be the one to ask the question.
An’gel sighed. “What happened? The last thing I remember—vaguely—is going down to the kitchen with Bernice.” She frowned. “I believe she said something about blood sugar. I had taken a mild tranquilizer to help me sleep, and I was groggy.”
“We don’t know for sure,” Kanesha said. “But here’s the way I think it happened. She knocked you out, then she dragged you out of the kitchen and onto the back porch near the steps. I don’t think she was trying to kill you.”
“Thank heaven for small mercies,” An’gel said.
Kanesha smiled. “Then she set the fire in the sink. She took a knife from the rack and went back upstairs. She hid the knife in her robe, because my deputy on duty near the head of the stairs didn’t see any sign of it. He said she stopped to tell him you would be up soon after you had a bite to eat, then went into her room and closed the door.”
“Was she waiting for the fire to be noticed?” An’gel asked.
“Yes. I think she was counting on the fact that the deputies would both run downstairs when they smelled smoke. That’s what they did, and I’m going to have a talk with them about that. One of them should have remained on duty while the other one went downstairs to check out the situation. That was not acceptable.” She looked grim, Dickce thought. She pitied the poor deputies. Kanesha would not spare their feelings.
“By the time one of them ran back upstairs to start alerting everyone to get out of the house, it was too late.” She paused. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but Signora Mingione is dead. Mrs. Cameron must have gone to her room as soon as the deputies went downstairs, then she stabbed her.”
Dickce could see her own feelings of horror mirrored in An’gel’s expression. “Poor Rosabelle,” she whispered. She uttered a silent prayer for her friend.
“What about Bernice?” An’gel asked after a long moment.
“When one of my men went back upstairs to warn everyone to get out of the house, he found only Miss Cameron in the bedroom they shared. She appeared to be asleep. She said she had no idea where her mother was, but she wasn’t in their room. She was positive of that. The deputy left her and checked in the bathroom while I believe Miss Cameron came and roused you. That’s what she told us.”
“Yes,” Dickce said. “She’s the one who woke me up. I asked her about her mother, but she said she was sure her mother and grandmother were already out of the house. I was so worried about An’gel, I didn’t really stop to think about it.” She paused as the remembered terror came back to her. “Juanita insisted An’gel wasn’t there and we needed to get out of the house, and that’s what we did. We found Wade already outside when we got there, but he was alone.”
“The three of you were out of the house by the time one of my men discovered the signora’s body,” Kanesha said. “He realized nothing could be done for her, so he searched quickly for Mrs. Cameron. He found her body in the closet in her room. She had been smothered to death by her daughter.”
“Why?” Dickce said. “Why would Juanita do such a thing?”
“Are you sure Juanita didn’t murder her grandmother and then her mother?” An’gel asked before Kanesha could answer Dickce’s question.
“We’re sure,” Kanesha said. “Mrs. Cameron had blood on her hands and robe, and Miss Cameron’s hands and robe were clean. Miss Cameron discovered what her mother had done. She confronted her mother who then lunged at her with a knife. Mrs. Cameron stumbled as she tried to attack her daughter and hit her head when she fell. That’s when Miss Cameron grabbed a pillow and smothered her. She said she couldn’t bear to see her mother go to jail or to a mental hospital.” She shrugged. “It could have happened that way. She might get a reduced sentence. It’s hard to say.”
“Four women dead and the other in serious trouble.” An’gel sounded dazed.
Dickce felt dazed herself. She found it all hard to take in.
“Did Juanita believe her mother killed Mrs. Stephens and Mrs. Pittman also?” An’gel asked.
“Yes, she told me she found an odd stain in the pocket of her mother’s dress,” Kanesha said. “She couldn’t figure out what it was at first, but when she learned about the Vaseline on the banister, she realized that had to be it. She tried to get it out of her mother’s dress, but I imagine there’s still some residue.”
“That’s what she meant,” An’gel said. “I should have picked up on it.”
“What did who mean?” Dickce asked. “Juanita?”
“Yes,” An’gel replied. “I walked into the kitchen once when she was talking to Clementine. She said Clementine told her how to get lipstick out of clothing. Then at dinner last night, remember she said that Clementine is a wizard with stains. She must have tried to find out how to get the Vaseline out of her mother’s dress.”
“There was a clue right in front of you,” Dickce said.
“And I didn’t pick up on it,” An’gel said, obviously irritated with herself.
“Don’t blame yourself, Miss An’gel,” Kanesha said. “If I had known about it, it might have helped, but who’s to say? Miss Cameron is clever enough, I’d be willing to bet she had a lipstick stain on a piece of her own clothing in case anyone got curious about her chat with Clementine.”
“I presume you have Juanita in custody,” An’gel said.
“Yes, and I have moved Mr. Pittman and Mr. Thurmond to the Farrington House. They seemed eager to leave.”
“Can’t say as I blame them,” Dickce said. “What about Benjy and Diesel?”
“If anything has happened to that cat,” An’gel said, sounding stricken, “I’ll never be able to face Charlie Harris again.”
Kanesha smiled. “Benjy and Diesel are fine. Benjy insisted on staying there. Clementine and Antoinette are there, too. If I know Clementine, she already has a contractor lined up to come in and take care of getting your kitchen back into shape.”
Dickce felt the tears forming, and this time she let them flow. They were tears of relief and gratitude. Benjy and Diesel were fine, and Clementine—always their rock—would make sure everything was okay with the house.
Dickce glanced at An’gel. The Good Lord willing, An’gel would be fine, too.
She just hoped An’gel wouldn’t have a relapse when Dickce told her about Peanut and Endora.
Time enough for that tomorrow, she decided. She had always liked tomorrow.
Turn the page for a preview of Miranda James’s next Cat in the Stacks Mystery . . .
ARSENIC AND OLD BOOKS
Coming February 2015 in hardcover from Berkley Prime Crime!
I checked my watch, then glanced at the clock on my computer. They both told me that it was seven minutes after one p.m. I resisted the urge to get up and pace around the archive office. Instead I turned my chair and looked at the large feline dozing on the wide windowsill behind my desk.
Diesel, apparently sensing my gaze, yawned and stretched. He meowed and rolled onto his side, head twisted so that he was staring at me almost upside down. He warbled a couple of times, as if to ask, “Why are you so restless, Charlie?”
“The mayor said she’d be here at one, and she’s late. You know how that bugs me,” I told the cat. “I’m curious to find out about these family documents she wants to talk to me about. The Longs have already given so many collections of papers to the archive I have to wonder what they’ve been holding on to.”