“Dan is an attractive guy, and he shares interests with Irene,” I said. “Why wouldn’t Carey Warriner be jealous of him?”
“I don’t know,” Barbara said. “Dan’s a pleasant man and a great bridge player, one of the best I’ve ever played with, honestly. But”—she paused briefly—“I don’t know, he always seems so aloof. He liked Irene and Carey, I guess, or he wouldn’t have spent so much time with either of them, but he was never flirty with Irene the way Armand is. I just put it down to his being French.”
Helen Louise picked up on one comment. “Was Carey spending time with Dan on his own? The way Irene was?”
Barbara nodded. “I believe so. Irene said they had become close recently. I’m not sure why, since Dan is, well, Dan, but I guess he and Carey got along well together.”
“What’s that silly word they use nowadays to label men who are good friends?” I asked.
“You mean bromance.” Helen Louise rolled her eyes. “Ridiculous term, as if friendship needed romantic connotations. Perhaps Dan Bellamy is gay and fell in love with Carey.”
“No, I don’t think he is,” Barbara said. “I could be wrong, of course, but I know Dan mentioned an ex-wife once. And I never saw him look at Carey that way, or at Armand, either, and they’re both really good-looking.”
“It’s far too easy to misperceive a person’s sexuality,” Helen Louise said. “I have to remind myself of that from time to time. Sounds like Dan and Carey Warriner were simply good friends, like Charlie and Stewart.”
I still hadn’t heard from Kanesha, and that was unusual. She was always busy working on something, however, and I knew there was no point in texting her again.
Helen Louise was explaining to Barbara who Stewart was. She nodded. “I know him. He’s hilarious. We were on a committee together. I didn’t realize he boarded with you, Charlie.”
I nodded. “He’s become one of the family now.”
“That’s nice,” Barbara said. “I really miss my family, especially now. They’re all in Colorado.” She looked at Helen Louise with a faint smile. “Could I have some of that coffee? I’m about to get maudlin, drinking all this wine. I don’t want to embarrass myself.”
“Of course,” Helen Louise said. “How do you take it?”
“Black is fine,” Barbara replied.
I waited until she had her coffee and had taken a couple of sips before I steered the conversation back to Irene and Carey Warriner.
“You told us at the beginning,” I said, “that you were afraid that Irene had killed Dixie Compton and Carey. Why do you think she would have killed her husband?”
Barbara frowned. “Irene told me last year about a man she’d been in a relationship with who had been extremely possessive. I had never seen her really angry, but she was in a towering rage when she talked to me about him. It took me a while to calm her down. She told me she’d do whatever it took to get out of that situation if it ever happened again—even if it meant killing the guy. She sounded pretty grim when she told me that. And then Carey started acting up.”
“And then she found out he was having an affair with Dixie Compton?” I said.
“She told me she thought he was involved with another student,” Barbara replied. “Irene wasn’t sure who it was until she was murdered. Then she realized the woman had signed up for her class as well as Carey’s.”
“Had she seen them together?” Helen Louise asked.
“I don’t think so,” Barbara replied. “At least, Irene never said so. The other day in my office, she said Carey had taunted her by saying that if she could have an affair with Armand, then he could have an affair, too. When Irene asked him with whom, all he said was Wouldn’t you like to know?”
I’d have to share with Helen Louise later what I’d learned from Viccy Kemp during my lunch eavesdropping session with Miss Dickce. I wondered whether Carey’s alleged affair had begun before or after his behavior turned violent. That could be an important point.
“Do you really think Irene Warriner killed Ms. Compton?” Helen Louise asked. “She’d have to have known who she was in order to do that.”
“True,” Barbara said. “She told me she didn’t know who the woman was until after the murder, but she might have lied to me about that. I hate this. Irene has been my best friend, and now I feel like I don’t know her anymore. She frightened me when she got so angry.”
“That’s the terrible thing about murder for those who survive,” I said. “It affects how we see those around us who were somehow connected, and sometimes the effects are long lasting.”
Barbara sipped her coffee, her expression troubled. “If Irene told me the truth about not knowing who Dixie Compton was beforehand, then she didn’t kill her. If that’s the case, then she wouldn’t have killed Carey.” She brightened for a moment, then her expression clouded again. “Unless it was in self-defense. The way he’d been acting, maybe he finally attacked her, and she had to defend herself.”
“That’s possible,” Helen Louise said. “But if she did do it in self-defense, why didn’t she call the police right away? There were enough witnesses to her husband’s erratic behavior to back up her claims.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. Surely Irene would have,” Barbara said hopefully. “Maybe that means she didn’t do it after all.”
Helen Louise and I exchanged glances. Barbara had grasped at an answer that made her feel better. Both Helen Louise and I knew that Irene Warriner might well be the killer, but I didn’t want to upset Barbara any further.
“Maybe so,” I said. “I think you need to tell Deputy Berry everything you’ve told us, though.”
Barbara started to protest, but Helen Louise patted her hand and said, “Listen, Barb, I’ve known Kanesha for years. She’s smart, and she’s fair. She’s not one of those cops who settles for an easy answer. She wants the truth, and if Irene didn’t kill anyone, then Kanesha will establish that by finding out who the murderer is. You can trust her. Both Charlie and I do, I promise you.”
Barbara let go of a pent-up breath. “I guess you’re right. If you trust her, then I guess I should, too. I just want this nightmare to be over.”
Helen Louise patted her hand again. “We all do. Any information you can give may help do that.”
“All right,” Barbara said. “So should I call her and ask to see her? I’m not sure what the right way is to do this.”
“I’ll text her for you.” I picked up my phone again. If this doesn’t get a quick response from her, I thought, then something big must be going on. I prefaced the message with 911 to get her attention.
It worked, because she responded by calling me within thirty seconds. “Hello,” I said.
“What’s the emergency?” Kanesha said. I could tell from her tone that she wasn’t happy with me.
I explained quickly that Helen Louise and I were with Barbara Lamont, and that Barbara had some potentially critical information for her.
“I’ll be there in ten.” Kanesha ended the call.
I relayed the message to Barbara and Helen Louise. Barbara suddenly looked apprehensive.
“Do I have to talk to her by myself?” she asked. “I know it sounds silly, I’m too old to be acting like a kid, but the thought of facing her by myself makes me nervous.”
“If Kanesha says it’s okay, then one of us can stay with you,” Helen Louise said. “I tell you what, give me a dollar.”
“What?” Barbara said, obviously startled. “Why do you want a dollar?”
Helen Louise’s request puzzled me at first, but then I realized what she was doing.
“Is your law license up to date?” I asked.
“It is,” Helen Louise said. “You never know when you might need it.” She turned to Barbara. “If you give me a dollar as a retainer, then I can act as your attorney and insist on being present.”
Barbara scrambled for her purse and discovered that Diesel was asleep on top of it. “Wake up, kitty, I need my purse.”
Diesel had been unnaturally silent during all this, I now realized. I wondered if Ramses had run him ragged today, and he was sleeping it off. It wouldn’t surprise me. Now he meowed loudly in protest, but he got off Barbara’s purse. Barbara picked it up, rooted around, and found a five-dollar bill. “That’s all the small change I have.”
“That will do,” Helen Louise said. “I’ll give it back to you later.” She set the bill on the table in front of her. Kanesha would understand the significance, I was sure.
True to her word, Kanesha arrived in ten minutes. Helen Louise went to open the door. When they came into the kitchen, I stood to greet Kanesha. She nodded in response. She looked over at Barbara Lamont.
“Dr. Lamont, I understand you have things to tell me,” Kanesha said.
Barbara nodded, then looked in mute appeal to Helen Louise.
“I’ve agreed to act as Dr. Lamont’s attorney for this interview,” Helen Louise said, her hand resting on the five-dollar bill. “She’s understandably worried and concerned that the information she is going to give you not be misinterpreted.”
Kanesha’s rigid posture told me that she wasn’t happy about this development, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. “Very well.” She turned to me. “In that case, I think we can excuse you, Mr. Harris.” Her eyes shifted toward Diesel. “And your cat.”
“Of course,” I said. “I’ll take my leave, ladies. But, Deputy, I really do need to talk to you later.”
Kanesha frowned, then nodded. “I’ll be in touch after I hear what Dr. Lamont has to tell me.”
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll be at home. Come on, Diesel, time to go.” We left the kitchen and exited the house. I drove the few blocks home, slowly, mulling over Barbara Lamont’s information. I had the feeling that something she had told us was important, but now I couldn’t say exactly what it was. I hoped I’d figure it out soon.
TWENTY-NINE
Thirty-five minutes after Diesel and I returned home, Kanesha rang my front doorbell. Azalea let her in, because I was in the den with both cats, halfway dozing on the sofa. Kanesha joined me in the den, pulling out my desk chair and taking a seat.
“How did it go with Barbara Lamont?” I asked after the preliminary greetings were out of the way.
Kanesha cocked an eyebrow at me. “Fine. Useful information.”
“Are you anywhere near making an arrest?” I asked.
“Getting closer,” she said. “Now, what is it you want to talk to me about?” From the impatient expression, I knew she was in no mood for me to dither around, trying to fish information out of her.
I suppressed a sigh and got to the point. First, though, I did ask whether she had heard from Viccy Kemp. She shook her head.
“Should I have?” she asked.
I nodded. “You need to talk to her. She can corroborate that Carey Warriner was having an affair with Dixie Compton. She can explain to you how she is sure of that fact.”
Kanesha nodded. “All right. Anything else?”
I told her about the lunch earlier today and passed along the information I had gleaned from Melba’s friends. I left out the remarks made about how intimidating Kanesha was, as well as the silliness about me being like Lord Peter Wimsey.
“Melba can attest to all this, of course,” I concluded. “And Miss Dickce, too.”
Kanesha had pulled out her notebook once I started and had jotted down a few notes. Now she looked at me, her expression inscrutable as always. The silence grew slightly uncomfortable, at least for me. Diesel stirred restlessly on the sofa beside me, and Ramses suddenly hopped off my lap and made a beeline for Kanesha. Before I could stop him, he hopped into her lap. She stared at him in astonishment.
“Ramses, get down,” I said sternly, but the kitten ignored me. He rubbed against Kanesha’s mid-region and began to purr. She began to stroke him, tentatively at first, then with more assurance. He curled up in her lap and settled down while she stroked.
I would have loved to pull out my phone and take a picture to have proof of this, because I wasn’t sure anyone would believe me if I told them about it. I didn’t want Kanesha to get annoyed with me, though, and I figured she would. She must have encountered Ramses at her mother’s house. I wondered if she had given him any attention there. He obviously felt perfectly comfortable with her.
I had to smother a chuckle as I watched. I knew Kanesha wouldn’t appreciate that, either. Instead I asked a question. “Did you learn anything new from what I told you?”
Kanesha raised her head to look at me. Her hand stilled, and she removed it from the kitten’s head. “The mention of the husband is new,” she said. “We haven’t been able to trace one yet, so I suspect that she could have been lying. Or she married in another state. We’ll keep digging, because the husband, if there is one, is an obvious suspect.”
“What about Barbara Lamont’s evidence?” I asked.
“Suggestive,” Kanesha replied.
She seemed determined to frustrate me, even more so than usual. Might as well go ahead and poke the bear another time or two, I reckoned. She hadn’t made a move to go yet, so it was worth a try.
“What about the murder weapon used on Carey Warriner?” I asked. “Have you identified it yet?”
“No, we haven’t,” Kanesha said. “It could have come from anywhere. Mrs. Warriner claims that none of her kitchen knives are missing, and no one else has admitted to having lost one. No telling where the killer disposed of it.”
“That’s really frustrating,” I said.
Kanesha shot me a look of irritation.
I hastened to ask another question. “Based on what you know right now, who do you think is the best candidate for the murders?”
“Irene Warriner,” Kanesha said. “If we can really prove that her husband was having an affair with Ms. Compton, that gives her a prime motive in both killings.”
“Do you believe she acted on her own in her husband’s murder?”
“I don’t think she could have,” Kanesha said. “He was a big man, and I doubt she had the strength to dispose of his body by herself.”
“Do you know yet where he was killed?”
“We haven’t found any evidence that he was killed at his home,” Kanesha said. “According to Mrs. Warriner, he walked out of the house a few minutes after they reached home. Bellamy stayed with her for a few minutes, and then she asked Dr. Bellamy to go look for him.”
“Dan told me that. He was the one who found the body,” I said. “Do you think they’re both telling the truth?”
“I think one or both of them has to be lying,” Kanesha said. “If Mrs. Warriner killed him, she got Bellamy to help her move the body. We found evidence that Warriner was in Bellamy’s car, but that could have been from the ride home Bellamy gave him when he was released from jail.”
“Have you found any witness to the dumping of the body? Or information from the Warriners’ neighbors about what happened at their house that night?”
Kanesha shook her head. “So far, all we’ve drawn are blanks. We’ll keep digging, but I’m not hopeful that we’ll turn up anyone who saw any part of what happened.”
I understood her frustration even better now. The killer had been both shrewd and lucky not to have left any recognizable trace. But surely there had to be something.
“I’ve heard that Carey Warriner came from a wealthy family in Georgia,” I said. “Have you been able to confirm whether that’s true?”
Kanesha nodded. “Yes, he was a pretty rich guy. Mrs. Warriner doesn’t have a copy of his will, or at least she claims not to. I’ve been trying to get in touch with the family’s lawyer in Atlanta, but so far, no luck.”
“It seems logical that he would leave everything he ha
d to his wife,” I said.
“Until we can confirm that,” Kanesha said, “I can’t do much.” She removed Ramses gently from her lap and stood. The kitten yawned and rubbed against her leg. “There’s something I’m missing. Some connection that has to be there, but I can’t figure out what it is.” She shrugged. “There are still too many gaps in what we know about all these people’s backgrounds.”
“Who all are you including in that group?” I asked.
“Bellamy, d’Arcy, Dr. Lamont, and Mrs. Warriner,” Kanesha replied. “And potentially Ms. Compton’s husband, or even ex-husband.”
“I’m sure you know about her dubious career here in Athena,” I said.
Kanesha gave a short bark of laughter, surprising me and startling Diesel and Ramses. The kitten jumped away from her and ran out of the room. She didn’t appear to have noticed.
“Yes, I’m aware of all that. I started investigating those connections right away. Anyone concerned in that had cast-iron alibis, so no help there,” she said. “I’ve got things to do. If you think of anything, let me know.”
I started to get to my feet, but she held up her hand. “I can find my own way out.”
I subsided back onto the sofa and watched as she strode out of the room. I considered what she had told me. I wasn’t surprised that she considered Irene Warriner the chief suspect. Things didn’t look good for the new widow. She was the most obvious person in both cases. Her own best friend was worried that she could have killed both her husband and his alleged lover.
Perhaps for once, the obvious suspect was the murderer. The problem lay in collecting enough indisputable evidence to charge her with the murders and bring her to trial. And would Dan Bellamy be proven to be an accessory, by helping Irene Warriner dispose of her husband’s body? I agreed with Kanesha that Irene couldn’t have handled her husband’s corpse on her own, but perhaps she had lied about his being gone. While Dan Bellamy was out looking for Warriner, Irene could have lured him out of the house on some pretext and killed him away from home, in that man’s yard.
The Pawful Truth Page 20
