Classified As Murder

What was her name? She was a friend of Azalea’s, and Azalea had mentioned her by name, I was sure of it. I thought hard as we walked down the hall, and when we reached the kitchen door, I had it—Lorraine.

There was no sign of Lorraine in the kitchen when we walked in. I wondered where she could be, because it wasn’t long before lunchtime. Surely there ought to be food under preparation here, but when I scanned the room, I could see no evidence of it.

I stood there for a moment, uncertain what to do. I didn’t like the idea of poking around the kitchen on my own because this was not my house. But at the same time I was increasingly thirsty, and I wanted to take care of Diesel’s and Dante’s needs as well.

I took a few steps farther into the kitchen and surveyed the cabinets, hoping to identify the likeliest spot for glasses and bowls. I walked over to the sink, the boys trailing along, and opened a cabinet to the left of the sink.

Pay dirt on the first try. One shelf of the cabinet held glasses, and another had some small dessert bowls. I pulled out bowls for each animal and a glass for myself, and filled them from the tap.

Diesel and Dante lapped with enthusiasm, and I felt much better for the cool water. I drained my glass and refilled it. This time I sipped it more slowly.

I glanced down at the boys to see if they needed more water, and both animals stiffened at the same time. Then I heard voices, growing more distinct as the speakers neared the kitchen.

Across the room from where the animals and I entered was another door, partially open. The sounds emanated from that direction. As I watched, the door swung open to reveal Truesdale and Daphne Morris as they walked into the kitchen.

The butler had his arm around Daphne’s shoulder, and Daphne leaned against Truesdale’s side.

“Don’t worry,” Truesdale was saying. “Everything will be just fine.”

“Oh, Nigel, whatever would I do . . .” Daphne broke off when she saw me standing at the sink. She stopped in her tracks and caused Truesdale to stumble. He righted himself, and Daphne nodded in my direction.

I cleared my throat. “My apologies. I was thirsty, and the animals needed some water also. I hope you don’t mind.”

Truesdale frowned, but then the frown smoothed away. “Certainly not, sir. You are more than welcome to refreshment, as are your companions.”

Daphne stared at me for a moment, then seemed to collect herself. In a prim tone she said, “Thank you for your help, Nigel. I’ll leave the matter in your capable hands.” She nodded a couple of times before she scurried out the door into the front hall. I had no idea she could move so quickly.

The butler did not acknowledge her departure. He continued to observe me. “Is there something more I can get for you, Mr. Harris?”

“No, thank you,” I said. I had the distinct impression that he cordially wished me to the devil right about then. I drained my glass and set it in the sink. “I had what I needed, and I think the boys are done, too.” I reached down and retrieved both bowls, now almost empty, and put them in the sink, too.

Diesel didn’t meow at me to let me know he wanted more, and Dante looked happy too, so I figured they’d had enough. Time to head back to Sean.

“If you require anything further,” Truesdale said, “please ring the bell and I will attend to your needs.”

Stay out of the kitchen, you mean, I thought. That was pretty clear. “Of course. I’ll ring next time.” I nodded and took a couple of steps toward the door along with the animals.

Before I stepped any further, the back door opened, and a voice I knew called out, “Nigel, dearest, how are you? You poor thing. I came the minute I could get away from work. I really don’t know why I put up with the way they treat me.”

I turned to see Anita Milhaus, my least favorite library coworker, throw her arms around the butler and envelop him in a fierce hug. I didn’t think she had seen me.

Truesdale coughed loudly, his body stiff. Anita released him and stepped back with a hurt expression. “Nigel, honey, what’s wrong?”

“Will that be all, Mr. Harris?” Truesdale glared at me.

Anita turned and saw me, and her eyes widened in shock. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m sure Truesdale will explain,” I said in a bland tone. “Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I must get back to what I was doing.”

With that, the animals and I hurried out of the room.

Halfway down the hall, I slowed my pace. How should I interpret what I had witnessed in the kitchen? Was Truesdale involved romantically with Anita Milhaus?

And what about Daphne Morris? She tried to pass it off as innocuous, simply asking the butler for help, but I thought their manner with each other betokened a more intimate relationship.

Or were these women cozying up to the man who had inherited a significant amount of money and a beautiful antebellum mansion? But how could Anita Milhaus have known about the inheritance so quickly?