Out of Circulation (11 page)

“Good evening, everyone.” Lucinda Long offered her standard mayoral smile, one that never seemed to reach her eyes. She had always struck me as rather a cold person, but she was an efficient and energetic mayor, at least. “As Miss An’gel said, this is a wonderful event, and I’m proud to see my fellow citizens here supporting a truly worthy cause. I’m also delighted to be asked to present a special award tonight to a citizen of Athena who has worked tirelessly over the years to promote the well-being of our town in so many areas. At the same time, however, I am saddened to know that this highly esteemed person has decided to retire from public life for personal reasons. Everyone in Athena
will miss her helping hands, but we will remain forever grateful for all she has done in the past, and I know we all will wish her well in her retirement.”

The mayor paused, and I had the impression everyone in the room held their breath waiting for this paragon to be named. I figured I knew who was going to receive the award, and I admired the masterstroke that Miss An’gel had obviously engineered. Machiavelli had nothing on her. I glanced at Helen Louise, and I could see her suppressing a grin. She’d figured it out as well.

The mayor spoke again. “It is my great pleasure to present the first Beauregard Ducote Award for Distinguished Public Service to Mrs. Morton Cassity. Vera, would you please come forward to accept the award?”

There was a moment of silence before the applause broke out, and I could have sworn I heard a gasp. I was watching Vera when the mayor made the announcement, and her jaw dropped open, even as her face flooded with color to match her over-the-top costume. Fury flashed in Vera’s eyes as she made her way forward.

Would she accept her defeat graciously? I wondered. If she didn’t, she risked huge public embarrassment. She would become a laughingstock if she made a scene, and somehow I couldn’t see Vera exposing herself to open public ridicule.

Vera’s hoop skirt snagged on the spurs worn by one man in cowboy garb. As she jerked the fabric loose with a vicious tug, she nearly pulled the man off his feet. He managed to stay upright, but Vera never paused to apologize. She made it the last three feet to where the mayor and Miss An’gel waited and turned to face the room.

Miss An’gel preempted her. “Vera, my dear, I’m so delighted you were chosen for this award, and my sister
and I are thrilled to support it. You have done
so much
for the community, and we wanted to be sure you got the kind of award you so
richly
deserve. We regret that you have decided to retire from your charitable work, but we understand that sometimes private life must come before public duty. We will surely miss your work with the Friends of Athena Public Library.” She bestowed a beaming smile upon her adversary.

Vera’s shoulders slumped as she accepted the plaque from Lucinda Long. She struggled for a smile but never quite managed it. When she spoke her voice was unsteady. “I can’t tell you all how surprised I am to receive this. I never expected anything like it.” Her mouth closed, and she stood there awkwardly, clasping the award to her bosom.

I almost felt sorry for her. The Ducote sisters had managed to spike her guns but good.

I was also relieved that she appeared to accept the inevitable. There had been enough unpleasant scenes tonight.

Morty Cassity joined his wife, and Miss An’gel stepped aside. “Thank you all. I know Vera is touched and honored by this gesture.” He frowned, no doubt puzzled by all this, since I was sure it was as much a surprise to him as it was to his wife. “I think this calls for some more of that fine champagne.” He led Vera away, and conversation slowly resumed as the waiters spread through the room dispensing more of the bubbly.

Helen Louise and I looked at each other. “Can you beat that?” I said.

She grinned. “Remind me never to get on Miss An’gel’s bad side. That was absolutely brilliant.”

“You have to hand it to her. She said she and Miss Dickce were going to neutralize Vera, and they did it.”

I felt a hand on my shoulder and glanced up to see my daughter, suddenly blond, smiling down at me. “Hi, Dad, Helen Louise. Frank and I ran late, I’m afraid. What did we miss?”

Frank, a husky, bearded young man a few years older than Laura, greeted us. “My fault. Had a student having a postexam meltdown that I had to take care of.” Frank taught lighting and set design at the college.

“We only caught the tail end of it.” Laura sipped her champagne. “Mrs. Cassity looked like a thundercloud when she passed us on the way out of the room.”

I quickly explained, and Frank and Laura shared a glance of amusement.

“Think that will really shut her up?” Frank shook his head. “In my experience nothing except the grave will stop that harpy from meddling in things.”

“After what Miss An’gel just pulled off,” Helen Louise said, “Vera will look like a fool if she doesn’t go quietly.”

“Enough of that,” I said. “Let’s forget about Vera and try to enjoy the party.” I examined my daughter. The fake hair, along with a demure wool dress, gloves, sensible shoes, and cloche hat, reminded me of illustrations from one of my favorite series of children’s books. She also clutched a magnifying glass in one hand. When I matched that with Frank’s getup—gray flannel trousers, white shirt with bow tie, and letterman’s sweater emblazoned with a large
E
—I figured I knew who they were supposed to be.

Helen Louise spoke first, however. “Well, Miss Nancy Drew, how nice to see you with your favorite escort, Ned Nickerson. How are things at Emerson College, Ned?”

Frank laughed. “Peachy keen, ma’am. I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t shave tonight.”

“I think Ned looks rather fetching with a beard, don’t you?” Laura’s eyes sparkled with humor as she regarded her boyfriend.

“Definitely,” Helen Louise said.

“Have you seen Sean and Alexandra?” I asked. “I’m curious to see how they’re dressed.”

“They’re here somewhere,” Frank said as he glanced about. He waved. “Here they come now.”

Sean and Alexandra Pendergrast loomed into view, and they made a particularly striking couple. Sean was six-three, and in her heels Alexandra was only a couple of inches shorter. Sean had his hair slicked back in a severe style, and he sported a monocle in his left eye. His Edwardian-style evening wear flattered his muscular figure, and Alexandra’s frock, a straight flapper dress with sheer beaded overdress, complimented his attire nicely.

“Good evening, all. What an absolutely frightful crush.” Sean’s attempt at an aristocratic English accent was excellent. His sister must have coached him.

“I think there’s another actor in the Harris family,” Alexandra said with a fond glance at my son.

Laura grinned. “I know. I’ve been telling Dad that Diesel would be a natural for cat food commercials.”

“So frightfully unamusing, sister dear.” Sean’s tone was frosty, but his eyes twinkled.

“My dear Lord Peter,” I said, addressing my son, “it doesn’t do to insult one’s sister in public.” I turned to Alexandra, who was as big a fan of Dorothy L. Sayers as my son was. “Miss Vane, you are looking particularly lovely tonight.”

“Merci beaucoup, M’sieur Poirot.”
Alexandra’s French accent was flawless, as were the teeth she flashed in a broad smile.

We continued to chat for a while, and I enjoyed myself.
Nothing pleased me more than having those I loved so close by. If only Diesel and Justin were here with us, I thought.

The party wore on, but by nine thirty people began to leave. Tomorrow was a workday for many of those in attendance, including Helen Louise and me, and I was ready to go home. As a board member, however, I needed to hang on for a while yet. Laura, Frank, Sean, and Alexandra had departed about twenty minutes prior, and only five other people were still in the parlor. Even the waiters had left the room.

Neither of the Ducote sisters was present, nor did I see Sissy, Hank, or Stewart. I thankfully hadn’t seen Vera since she had received her award. Perhaps she and Morty had left already.

“Let’s go find Miss An’gel,” I said to Helen Louise, “and let them know we’re going.”

“Good idea.” Helen Louise covered her mouth as she yawned. “I have to be up at four.”

“Poor baby. You’ll be exhausted at work all day.” I tucked her hand in my left arm as we headed for the parlor door.

In the hallway we encountered Kanesha and Robert Sharp. Kanesha appeared worried. “Charlie, have you seen my mother recently? We can’t find her anywhere. She’s not in the kitchen, and Miss Clementine hasn’t seen her in half an hour, at least.”

“I’m sure she’s fine, honey,” Sharp said, a protective arm sliding around Kanesha’s shoulders.

“Who’re you looking for?” Morty Cassity walked up to us. “I can’t find Vera, neither. Any of you seen her lately?”

Azalea and Vera both unaccounted for—that earlier ugly scene between them reran in my head. What if they had confronted each other again?

“We need to find them,” I said. “Quickly.”

Kanesha’s eyes narrowed as they bored into me. I knew that look of suspicion all too well. “Right. Robert and I will take the third floor. We’ve already been through this floor. Helen Louise, you and Mr. Cassity take the second. Charlie, would you find Miss An’gel or Miss Dickce? They’re probably down here somewhere.”

She didn’t wait to see if we obeyed, simply took that as a given. Dr. Sharp followed her as she ran up the grand staircase, his long legs allowing him to keep up easily.

“Come on, Morty,” Helen Louise said, taking hold of his arm. “Get moving.”

I started checking each room on the first floor. I knew the Ducotes weren’t in the parlor, so I started with the
room across the hall, the dining room. No sign of them there.

No sign of either sister in any of the rooms. I came at last to the kitchen. I’d expected to find the catering staff at work cleaning up, but the room was empty. They couldn’t have left yet, because there was still equipment on the counters. The back door stood slightly ajar, and I strode over to it. As I neared I could smell the cigarette smoke and hear the sound of laughter and conversation. Evidently the workers had stepped outside for a smoke break before finishing up.

I was about to stick my head out the door to ask if they’d seen the Ducote sisters when I heard a muffled thumping nearby. I moved away from the back door and scanned that side of the room. There were two doors on the wall near me. The first one turned out to be the entry to the pantry, but it was empty of people.

The next door was five feet further down the wall. As I came closer I could hear the thumping again, and this time I heard the faint sound of a voice. I grabbed the knob and pulled, but the door wouldn’t open. I glanced down and saw a doorstop jammed under the bottom of the door.

“Hold on, gotta get the door loose.” I raised my voice to be heard over the thumping as I kicked at the doorstop. My feet failed to dislodge it, so I bent down to wrest it away with my hands.

The darn thing was really wedged in there, but I managed to loosen it and get it out of the way. I twisted the knob, and the door burst open. Azalea Berry stumbled into my arms. “Thank the Lord. I been beating on that door for ten minutes.” She pulled away to stand on her own. Then she started trembling. “Oh, Mr. Charlie. It’s terrible.”

“What is?” I said, afraid she was going to pass out. I reached
toward her, but she turned and pointed toward the open door.

“In there.”

I stepped around her and peered into the dim light of what turned out to be a narrow staircase leading up. I gasped when I saw a body sprawled headfirst and prone about halfway up the stairs. A hoop skirt was canted forward with the crinolines revealed, and the red silk of the gown covered the head. One arm extended beyond the cloth.

Inching forward to the foot of the stairs, I reached out to touch the one visible wrist. I felt for a pulse, but there was none.

Vera Cassity was dead.

I withdrew my hand and backed away. As I did the door at the top of the stairs opened, and more light streamed in.

“Who’s there?” a voice called down to me. I looked up to see Kanesha on the landing, peering down.

“It’s me, Charlie,” I said. “Your mother is down here in the kitchen with me, Kanesha. She’s okay.”

“Is that Mrs. Cassity on the stairs?” Kanesha asked.

“Yes, and she’s dead. Don’t try to come down the stairs.” She couldn’t come down at all, I realized, as I took in more of the scene in front of me. Vera’s hoops blocked the narrow stairs completely. That made me wonder whether she had simply stumbled and fallen and had the bad luck to break her neck.

Maybe it wasn’t murder after all. That was my first assumption, but I hoped like anything I was wrong.

The catering staff began to come in through the back door, and I wasn’t sure what to do. It was cold outside, and I didn’t think they would pay any attention to me if I told them they shouldn’t come back into the kitchen.

“Listen, everyone, please listen.”

They stilled and stared at me curiously, and in some cases, with hostility. I was sure they were tired and ready to finish up, but they probably wouldn’t be going home for a couple of hours yet. Neither would I, I realized as a wave of exhaustion washed over me.

“Thank you. There’s been an accident, and I’m afraid you’ll have to wait on packing up and leaving.”

The grumbling started, but Kanesha’s voice cut through it. She must have run through the mansion at top speed to get to us so quickly.

She strode forward to where I stood, pushing her way through the milling group of workers. She identified herself as she moved closer.

“Mr. Harris is right. I need you all to move out of the kitchen for now. Please make your way to the front parlor and wait there. The sheriff’s department is on the way, and someone will be talking to you soon. We’ll let you go as soon as we can.”

There was more grumbling as they complied with Kanesha’s orders, but no outright rebellion.

Kanesha turned to her mother, who had slumped into a nearby chair. “Mama, are you okay?”

Azalea nodded wearily. “She be dead, Kanesha, but she that way when I found her.”