The Pawful Truth

by Miranda James

  I had to work hard to keep from laughing. In the end I coughed a little, but I didn’t think I fooled anyone.

  Having finished her cake, Miss An’gel got straight to the point. “There was an emergency board meeting to discuss the murder of a distinguished professor, as well as that of a student,” Miss An’gel said. “Now, Azalea, you know how highly we regard Kanesha and her abilities.”

  Azalea nodded. “Yes, ma’am, I do.”

  “But we also know that she has in the past benefitted from help in certain quarters,” Miss An’gel continued, “especially in matters related to Athena College.” She looked straight at me.

  “Kanesha has already told me she would be grateful for any information I happen to come across,” I said. “I was able to tell her about one incident that she wouldn’t otherwise have known about, but that’s really about it so far.”

  “Excellent,” Miss An’gel said, and Miss Dickce nodded in agreement as she had another bite of pound cake. “But she did not ask you to take a more active role, did she?”

  “No, she usually doesn’t,” I said.

  “Understandably so, I suppose,” Miss An’gel said. “The sheriff can be persnickety about things. Officially he is not aware of how much you have helped his department in the past, but off the record, although he does completely not approve, he is happy with the success rate of murder investigations.”

  “Good to know,” I said. “I’m happy for Kanesha to get the credit, because she deserves it. I don’t want to be in the limelight. She actually solves the cases; I simply provide corroborating information. She gets the evidence.”

  Azalea snorted. “That girl is too prideful sometimes. I’ve told her the good Lord only knows how many times that she can’t expect to carry everything on her shoulders. The hardest lesson she ever learned is that it’s not weakness to ask for help when you need it.” She regarded me with something approaching a smile. “You helped her learn that lesson.”

  I had never heard such a compliment from Azalea before, and I felt my face flush. “Thank you,” I said.

  Miss An’gel and Miss Dickce beamed at me. Miss Dickce said, “Sister and I know you’ll do your best to help Kanesha the way you always have.”

  “I’ve already made plans to try and dig up some information that could be helpful,” I said.

  Miss An’gel said, “You let me or Sister know if you need anything.”

  “While you’re here,” I replied, “I might as well ask you whether you’re acquainted with any of the persons who could be involved in this.”

  “Of course,” Miss An’gel said. “We met the unfortunate young professor a couple of times at college events. Such a charismatic and attractive man.”

  “I’ll say,” Miss Dickce said. “Young Henry Fonda, Cary Grant, and Gary Cooper all rolled into one.”

  I grinned at her enthusiasm.

  Miss An’gel shot a repressive glance at her sister. “You certainly fawned over him when we chatted with him on one occasion.”

  Miss Dickce glared back. “As I recall, you were in no hurry to let him go, Sister. You hung on his every word.”

  Miss An’gel sniffed. “He was a charming, interesting young man. We knew of his family, Charlie. I once had business dealings with his late grandfather over some property in Atlanta.”

  “I heard from someone that he came from a well-to-do family in Georgia,” I said.

  “That is correct,” Miss An’gel said, “though I would describe them as considerably more than well-to-do. His grandfather was one of the richest men in Georgia, and I believe young Warriner was the only grandson.” She shook her head. “So sad for the family. Were his grandfather still living, I imagine the shock of this might have killed him.”

  “Do you know if he had any sisters?” I asked.

  Miss An’gel frowned. “I don’t recall. Dickce?”

  Miss Dickce shook her head. “I don’t remember hearing about any. I think he was an only child. There are a couple of cousins, maybe.” She looked doubtful.

  “Definitely a tragedy for his family,” I said. “Can you tell me anything else about him?”

  Miss An’gel considered for a moment. “I do believe he mentioned that his father died a few years ago, but his mother is alive and in Atlanta or one of the suburbs.”

  “Yes, I remember that,” Miss Dickce said. “I think he said she had remarried recently.”

  “That’s about it,” Miss An’gel said. “We also met his wife, a lovely young woman. I’ve heard that she is highly regarded in the English department, and her students are quite taken with her.”

  “I’ve met her a couple of times,” I said. “We attended the event at the bookstore Saturday night when she did a presentation along with a history professor, Daniel Bellamy, on the Regency period. Were you aware that she writes historical fiction under a pseudonym?”

  “As I recall, you recommended her books to us a couple of years ago,” Miss An’gel said. “We’ve both enjoyed them, and we regretted not being able to attend that event.”

  “We met her on those same occasions when we talked with her husband,” Miss Dickce said. “An attractive young woman, I thought, well-spoken with nice manners.”

  Miss An’gel nodded. “Yes, an apt description. We don’t know anything about her background, however. The subject of her family never came up.”

  “No, it didn’t,” Miss Dickce said before she forked the last bite of her second slice of cake into her mouth.

  “This is dreadful for her, poor girl,” Miss An’gel said. “They seemed like a perfect couple. They obviously adored each other. Wouldn’t you agree, Sister?”

  Miss Dickce stared wistfully at the lemon pound cake on the counter. Her sister’s question brought her attention back to the conversation. “Yes, I would.”

  I hesitated over my next question but decided I might as well ask it. “Did Warriner seem at all possessive toward his wife?”

  Miss An’gel shook her head. “Not that I can recall. He was solicitous of her, bringing her a fresh glass of wine on one occasion.”

  “Didn’t see anything of that nature,” Miss Dickce said.

  I frowned. “From what I’ve heard, he had certainly become quite jealous of her friendship with another professor. You may have heard about the incident at the bookstore that ended with his being taken to jail.”

  Miss An’gel looked startled. “Heavens, no, what happened?”

  I gave them a précis of the situation at the bookstore, as well as a description of what happened at Helen Louise’s bistro. They both appeared shocked by the incidents.

  “And you say that the other man involved was a music professor at Athena?” Miss Dickce asked.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said. “His name is Armand d’Arcy. Do you know him?”

  The sisters exchanged a glance, and then they shook their heads. “No, I don’t know him, though the name sounds vaguely familiar.”

  “I’m going to see if I can audit his class,” I said. “His specialty is Renaissance and early modern music.”

  “Clever idea,” Miss Dickce said. “That sounds so interesting.”

  “I agree,” Miss An’gel said. “I’m sure you’ll be able to assess his character by the way he behaves toward students in his class.”

  “I guess I’ll find out,” I said. “I’m going to the music department in the morning. I’ve enrolled online, but that still has to be approved.”

  “If there are any problems about your getting into the class, you let me know,” Miss An’gel said.

  “Thank you, I will, though I’m not anticipating any issues,” I said. “What about the first murder victim? Dixie Belle Compton. Did you ever meet her or know anything about her?”

  “Only by reputation,” Miss Dickce said, her voice sounding strained.

  “And that wasn’t good,” Mi
ss An’gel added. “A friend of ours lost his head over her, and it cost him a marriage and a lot of money.”

  TWENTY-TWO

  Given what I’d already heard from Melba about the late Dixie Belle Compton, I wasn’t totally shocked by Miss An’gel’s revelation. Having confirmation of Melba’s statement did make it all the more real and sordid.

  “I heard something similar from Melba,” I said, “but without any details or names.”

  The sisters exchanged a glance. As I watched, I thought I saw Miss Dickce nod slightly. Miss An’gel turned to me. “We know you will treat what we’re about to tell you with discretion, Charlie, since it involves an old friend of ours. We don’t think he is involved in the murders, but perhaps knowing about this will help you understand the character of Ms. Compton better.”

  “I appreciate your willingness to confide in me,” I said. “Knowing more about Ms. Compton’s background will help, I’m sure.”

  “Our friend Herman Blakely apparently first met Ms. Compton at one of the casinos on the Gulf Coast,” Miss An’gel said. “She worked there in some capacity. Perhaps a hostess of some sort. He had a penchant for that kind of place. He loved to gamble but he never let it get out of control. He liked his money too much.”

  “I think Herman went to them to cheat on his wife,” Miss Dickce said flatly. “Sister is too nice to say it right out, but I’m not. He found a willing partner in Ms. Compton.”

  “I can’t argue with Dickce,” Miss An’gel said, “because I fear she is correct. Herman had a weakness for attractive women, and most of the time Agnes, his wife, overlooked that.”

  “Until Ms. Compton came along,” Miss Dickce said. “She followed him back to Athena after they got together at the casino. He seemed besotted with her.”

  “Herman Blakely,” I said. “Isn’t he a prominent surgeon?”

  Miss An’gel nodded. “A fine one, but I’m afraid his reputation suffered in the wake of his dalliance with Ms. Compton.”

  “Agnes was out for blood,” Miss Dickce said. “Herman had never brought one of his floozies home, so to speak, but he put this woman in an apartment and spent a couple of nights a week with her.”

  “This all came out in the divorce proceedings,” Miss An’gel said. “Poor Agnes was out for blood, as Sister said, and she didn’t care who knew it. I can’t really blame her. Herman practically flaunted the woman and embarrassed Agnes dreadfully.”

  I didn’t know either the surgeon or his former wife, but my sympathies definitely lay with Agnes Blakely. I didn’t approve of infidelity.

  “The upshot of it was a nasty divorce,” Miss Dickce said. “Agnes took him to the cleaners, and I’m glad she did. What a fool that man is. He allegedly tried to buy off Ms. Compton when things got really ugly with Agnes, but Ms. Compton wouldn’t play.”

  “I think she fancied herself as the next Mrs. Herman Blakely,” Miss An’gel said, “but Herman learned his lesson. He had spent an enormous amount on Ms. Compton, giving her jewelry and an expensive car, along with a bank account. Between that and the settlement on Agnes, he could barely afford gas to head out of town.”

  “So he left Athena?” I asked.

  Miss Dickce giggled. “He sure did, for a couple of months. Then he came slinking back. I almost felt sorry for him, but really, he brought it all on himself.”

  “Sounds to me like he could have had a grievance against Dixie Compton,” I said. “Despite his own culpability, he could have blamed her for all his troubles.”

  “And wanted her dead,” Miss An’gel said. “I suppose that’s possible, but I really don’t think he did it.”

  “What about Mrs. Blakely?” I asked.

  Miss Dickce snorted. “Agnes wouldn’t have soiled her hands, believe me.”

  “I will keep all that in mind,” I said. “I’m sure Kanesha knows all this, too.”

  “I would think so,” Miss An’gel replied. She glared at her sister. “Are you finally done eating?”

  Miss Dickce wiped her mouth with her napkin and laid it beside her empty plate. “I am, thank you so kindly for asking. Does this mean that you’re ready to go now?” Her demure tone did not match the mischievous gleam in her eyes, and I wondered what Miss An’gel would have to say to her once they were in their car again.

  “I believe we have told Charlie everything we know.” Miss An’gel stood. “Thank you again for the cake and coffee, Charlie. And thank you, Azalea. This was what we needed after a dreary board meeting. Come along, Sister. I know Charlie has things to do.” Azalea smiled to acknowledge her words.

  Both sisters took final farewells of Diesel and Ramses as I escorted them to the front door.

  Miss An’gel’s parting words to me went straight to the point. “We’re counting on you, Charlie. I know you won’t let us down.”

  “No, ma’am.” I watched their progress down the walk for a moment, Ramses tucked under one arm to keep him from bolting after Miss Dickce, his new best friend. I had seen her sneak him a couple of small bits of pound cake when she thought no one was looking.

  I shut the door before Miss Dickce took off down the street. I wasn’t sure my nerves could stand it. Every time they left I expected to hear a loud crash, but thankfully so far, it hadn’t happened.

  I put Ramses down, and he trotted off to the kitchen, probably in hopes that he would find Azalea still there. Diesel stayed with me, and we went down the hall.

  Laptop once again in place, Diesel on the sofa with me, I decided to e-mail Melba and tell her about my plan to audit Armand d’Arcy’s class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. The subject did interest me, but I wasn’t sure I would continue with the class after the murders were solved. I wasn’t particularly musical and hoped that there would be no singing required.

  I was about to send the message to Melba when another thought struck me. The Ducotes had told me about their friends’ messy divorce because of Dixie Compton. Melba had said there were two such cases. I wondered who was involved in the other one. Could that case have any bearing on the murders?

  After adding a few sentences to the message, asking for further information on Dixie Compton’s marriage-wrecking career, I hit send. I set aside the laptop to consider what I had learned from my visit with the redoubtable Ducotes.

  I hadn’t given much thought to Viccy Kemp’s statement that Carey Warriner came from a well-to-do family. With the corroboration of the sisters, however, that information took on a whole new significance. The Warriners were apparently rich, and as the only grandson, Carey Warriner might have inherited a substantial sum from his grandfather and his father.

  Who would most likely be his chief beneficiary? His wife, naturally. A wife who might have become incensed over his recent bizarre behavior and decided to rid herself of her husband. Her potentially rich husband.

  That theory certainly bore consideration.

  How did Dixie Compton fit into this scenario?

  According to the Ducotes, Ms. Compton had made out pretty well in her affair with Dr. Blakely. Jewels, a fancy car, an apartment, and a bank account—not shabby if she had managed to hold on to it. If the tale Melba had to tell yielded similar information, I thought it worth considering that Ms. Compton had a history of bilking wealthy men. An old, old game, but one that could pay very well indeed.

  Had she tried the same game with Carey Warriner? Seduced him into an affair, hoping for expensive gifts, but perhaps he hadn’t been willing to play by her rules. He ended the affair, and she decided to put the pressure on by showing up in his and his wife’s classrooms. Had Irene Warriner had any knowledge of the affair? That could be a key point. If she had known, she might have decided to solve the problem by getting rid of Dixie Compton once and for all. Then, in disgust over her husband’s betrayal and his increasingly erratic, possessive behavior, to rid herself of him as well. Outcome, a wealthy widow who could retire from teaching and
devote herself to writing, if she so chose.

  I didn’t want to think of Irene Warriner as a double murderer, but I had to admit that the scenario was plausible.

  Also plausible was the notion of two murderers. Carey Warriner got rid of Dixie Compton before she could cause a scandal that led to divorce. Then, perhaps out of guilt over his betrayal of his wife, he suddenly became jealous of her friendships with d’Arcy and Dan Bellamy. He might have attacked her, and she could have killed him in self-defense.

  If that were the case, I speculated, Dan Bellamy might have helped her dispose of the body by taking it from the Warriners’ house and dumping it on some unsuspecting man’s lawn.

  I couldn’t rule Herman Blakely completely out of the picture, however, despite the Ducote sisters’ faith in their friend. Or Agnes Blakely, for that matter, although I couldn’t see what motive she might have for killing Carey Warriner. Herman, though, could have been jealous that Dixie Compton had transferred her so-called affections to Warriner, killed Ms. Compton in a rage, then her alleged lover.

  That scenario had its appeal, as did the others I had come up with. But were any of them anywhere close to the truth?

  I wished I could discuss all this with Kanesha. I figured she had probably already come up with the same scenarios and perhaps others besides. She was privy to inside information that I wasn’t, and that was frustrating.

  Not much I could do about that, I knew. Instead I decided to focus on writing down the variations I had come up with. I retrieved my laptop and started typing.

  The task took me about twenty minutes, and when I read over what I had written I wondered whether there were possibilities I hadn’t considered. For one thing, I had no idea how—or if—Armand d’Arcy figured into any of this. Or, come to think of it, Dan Bellamy. Both men had been spending time with Irene Warriner recently. Time easily explained by shared interests, in the case of Irene and Dan Bellamy, and asking for help with the musical background, in the case of Irene and Armand d’Arcy.