Classified As Murder

Before I could reply Sean said, “How do we know you aren’t the murderer?” He grinned.

“I could never harm poor Uncle James,” Stewart said with a pained expression. “Even though he could be very mean from time to time. I was very fond of him. I couldn’t kill him.” He grimaced. “We had our little tiffs, but we always made up. Besides, I wasn’t even here yesterday, so there’s no way you can accuse me of killing him.”

“Oh, really,” Sean said. “Where were you, then?”

Stewart looked coy. “If you must know, I drove up to Memphis Sunday evening to visit a friend. A very good friend, and not just somebody to have a drink with.” He leered at Sean. “I didn’t get back here until about four o’clock yesterday afternoon. I bought some gas in Memphis as I was leaving, and I have the receipt. So I have an alibi.”

If he wasn’t making the whole thing up, then he was out of the running as the killer.

“I gave my receipt to that deputy,” Stewart went on. “She said she’d have to check it out, naturally, but if my story holds up, then I’m in the clear.”

“That’s a relief,” Sean said. “For you, I mean.”

Stewart waggled his finger at Sean in a “naughty, naughty” gesture.

“Why do you need my help?” I asked again. “Surely you have friends you can stay with if you want to leave here.”

“Of course I have friends,” Stewart said. “But they aren’t going to want me living with them ad infinitum. You heard the terms of the will. I have three months to find my own place, and I want a safe haven until I find it.”

“And you think moving in with my father is the solution?” Sean regarded my prospective boarder with a cool look.

“I talked to a friend in the history department at the college, and he told me your father has boarders. I don’t see why I couldn’t be a boarder if there’s room.” Stewart turned to me with an imploring smile. “Do you have room right now? Please say you do.”

Talk about an uncomfortable position. I did have room at the moment, and I couldn’t lie to him. But I sure wanted to. The last thing I needed right now was a Delacorte under my own roof, even though this one was evidently not the murderer.

Sean once again spoke before I could frame a reply. “It’s $750 a month, with kitchen privileges and some meals included, but you have to clean your own room and do your own laundry.”

I stared at my son in disbelief. I didn’t think he wanted Stewart in the house any more than I did, so why was he even offering terms to the man? And extortionate ones as well. I charged my regular boarders only $200 a month because they were college students and couldn’t generally afford any more than that. Stewart could probably afford to pay more, but $750 seemed too much.

I was about to protest, but Stewart spoke before I could. “It’s a deal. I want to move in right away.” He hopped up from the sofa. “Oh, I can’t thank you enough. I’ll be able to sleep tonight, knowing I’m not sharing a roof with a heartless killer.” He almost raced to the door. “I’m going up to pack some things. I’ll find you when I’m ready to go.” He was out the door before I could stop him.

I rounded on Sean. “Why did you tell him that? And that absurd price? I’m not sure I want him in my house.”

Diesel, alarmed by my tone of voice, started growling, and I had to calm him down while Sean replied.

“First off, I didn’t think he’d be willing to pay that much, but second, I figured as long as he has an alibi, he might be a useful source of information.” Sean laughed. “Arthur—the friend I was talking about—acts like a bubble-headed queen a lot of the time, but he’s really very sharp. I suspect Stewart isn’t much different.”

“Does Arthur flirt with you the way Stewart did?” I was very curious. Sean was actually offering me a glimpse of his life in Houston.

“He did when we first met, a couple of years ago,” Sean said. “But he soon got over it when I told him I wasn’t interested. It’s no big deal, Dad.”

“It doesn’t make you uncomfortable?” I asked.

Sean shrugged. “It did a little, at first. But now I don’t think twice about it. I say ‘No thanks’ and that’s the end of it.”

Sounded to me like it must happen on a regular basis, but I forbore commenting. I was pleased to know, however, that Sean responded in a mature manner.

“What about this source of information? Are you going to pump him for details about the family?”

Sean grinned. “If he’s as much like Arthur as I think he is, we won’t have to do much priming. He’ll be more than happy to shovel the dirt. And he could have some very helpful details.”

“I suppose so,” I said, though I wasn’t quite sure about this. I decided I would leave Stewart to Sean’s tender mercies, and if he extracted useful information from my new boarder, I’d be willing to listen. I wondered, though, what Kanesha might have to say about it. If Stewart’s dirt helped solve the case, she probably wouldn’t mind.

“Come on, then,” I said as I stood. “Let’s get to work on the inventory.”