What the Cat Dragged In

by Miranda James

  “I see,” Kanesha finally said. “That’s all you know?” Another long pause.

  I glanced at Alissa, not surprised at the hurt expression I saw. Her mother had no doubt lied to her deliberately, and I wondered what kind of parent would treat a child so badly. Not a woman I’d ever want to know, that’s for sure.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Willoughby. I’ll be calling you again when I have more questions.” Kanesha ended the call and regarded Alissa with what looked like sympathy.

  “Your mother asked me to apologize for her. She said she was only playing a joke on you and would have told you the truth,” Kanesha said.

  “It’s okay,” Alissa said, her tone flat. “I thought she had to be lying to me. As usual.”

  Kanesha arched an eyebrow, then relaxed it. “Your mother says the woman stayed in the house for only a couple of nights. Apparently, she was some relative of your grandfather’s, but she didn’t know the exact relationship. The only name she heard was Maudie.”

  Alissa shook her head. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard that name before.”

  “Your mother said the woman was quite elderly,” Kanesha replied. “She had prosthetic hands and got around in an old wheelchair. Your grandfather never explained what had happened to her hands and feet.”

  “An accident of some kind, I suppose,” I said.

  “Now that we have a name, or part of one, we’ll work to uncover her full identity,” Kanesha said. “I’d like to know how she ended up in an unmarked grave, and who put her bones in the attic.”

  “I think I can answer one of those questions,” Alissa said.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Alissa’s statement surprised Kanesha, though she hid it quickly. “Tell me what you know,” Kanesha said.

  First Alissa explained that her brother had visited their grandfather several years ago and spent two or three weeks with him.

  Kanesha frowned at that. “I wish you had told us this sooner.”

  “I’m sorry,” Alissa said. “I didn’t think about it until today. Anyway, Marty was always pulling tricks that he thought were funny. I never did, but my mother always laughed and egged him on.”

  I suspected most of those jokes were at Alissa’s expense, and I would have wagered that Kanesha thought so, too.

  “The way I see it,” Alissa went on, “Marty must have been poking around in the woods and come across the grave. He would have thought it was hilarious to dig up the bones and hide them in the house.”

  “That’s as good an explanation as any,” Kanesha said. “I’ll share this with Dr. Seton, and perhaps he can find some corroboratory evidence.”

  Alissa nodded. “I hope you find it. I hope you find out who she was, too. It’s really sad. I wonder why my grandfather put her in that grave in the woods.”

  “That’s a very good question,” Kanesha said. “I’m not sure that’s one we’ll ever be able to answer. Unless Dr. Seton comes up with something to explain how she died.”

  Did Kanesha think Mr. Hale had killed this woman? Either deliberately or accidentally? Wouldn’t someone have missed her?

  Kanesha rose. “If you’ll replace the photograph in the album where you found it, I’ll take the album now to the office. I want to get to work on identifying this woman.”

  Alissa complied with the instructions. Kanesha wrote out a receipt and gave it to the young woman. “I appreciate your help,” Kanesha said.

  “I really haven’t done much,” Alissa said, “but you’re welcome anyway.”

  I walked with Kanesha to the front door. “I’m glad you called Mrs. Willoughby and got the truth out of her. Can you imagine a mother playing that kind of trick on her child? It’s outrageous.”

  “It is,” Kanesha said. “She’s going to have to come here at some point, and I look forward to questioning her in person. Good night.”

  I closed the door behind her and turned to see Stewart coming down the stairs.

  “Kanesha’s gone?” he said. “I was going to invite her to stay for dinner. There’ll be more than enough.”

  “She was anxious to get back to the office to start work on identifying the mysterious woman in the photograph,” I said. “Is Haskell coming down soon?”

  “He’s taking a shower,” Stewart said. “Won’t be long. I’m going to start dinner.” He headed for the kitchen, and I went with him.

  While he worked I brought him up to date on everything. He shot a sympathetic glance at Alissa when I mentioned her mother’s cruel trick. His mouth tightened momentarily, and I thought he might say something cutting. He evidently thought better of it and focused on the meal preparation instead.

  When Haskell appeared a few minutes later, I began to give him an update. He held up a hand to forestall me.

  “It’s okay, Charlie. Kanesha called and gave me the details.”

  “Good.” I really didn’t want to go over it again, for Alissa’s sake.

  Alissa greeted Haskell before she turned to me. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go upstairs until dinner. I’m almost through with my book, and I want to see how it ends.”

  “You go right ahead,” I said. “I’ll call when the food is ready.”

  Diesel and Ramses accompanied her.

  “Poor kid,” Haskell said. “Kanesha told me about her mother. What a piece of work.” He took a place at the table. Stewart retrieved a beer from the fridge and gave it to him.

  I decided I needed a beverage, too, but not beer. I pulled a can of diet soda from the fridge. A little caffeine would be good about now.

  “Looks like you’re closing in on at least one part of the case now,” I said to Haskell.

  He nodded and took a swig of his beer. “And you want to know if we’ve made any real progress on the murder.”

  “Yes,” I said. “I’m sure y’all know more than I do, and for Alissa’s sake, I hope you’re close to an arrest.”

  “Maybe,” Haskell said. “We did find a few things that could tie the murderer to the scene. I can’t go into what they are, because we’re not entirely certain who left these things behind. We have a pretty good idea, though.”

  “That’s good.” I was disappointed that he obviously wasn’t going to tell me any more than that, but at least it was progress.

  The landline phone rang, and I got up to answer it. After I had identified myself, the caller said, “This is Asa Luckney, Mr. Harris. My wife said you wanted to talk to me.”

  “Yes, I would, Mr. Luckney. About my grandfather.”

  “I dropped Oralee off at the church, and I can come talk to you now if it’s convenient.”

  “It is. Thank you so much.” I gave him the address, and he promised to be here in about ten minutes.

  “Asa Luckney, one of the men leasing land from the farm,” I said to Stewart and Haskell. “He’s coming here to talk to me.”

  “What is it you’re hoping to find out?” Stewart asked. “Things about your grandfather that you don’t already know?”

  “Yes, that’s part of it,” I said. “My grandfather supposedly took a great interest in Mr. Luckney, and I’ve been wondering why he gave Martin Hale a life lease on the property instead of Mr. Luckney. Given what I know of my grandfather, who was a teetotaler, according to my father, I can’t see him entrusting his property to an alcoholic.”

  “Maybe because Luckney is Black and Hale was white,” Haskell said blandly.

  “Possibly,” I said, “but that wasn’t the way my parents thought, and I don’t believe my grandfather thought that way, either. My dad said my grandfather threatened to whip him if he ever caught my dad being disrespectful to anyone, Black or white.”

  “That’s certainly different from my family.” Haskell grimaced. “They’re all pretty racist to this day.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I said.

  Haskell shrugge
d. “They’re never going to change, and I’ve pretty much accepted that.”

  Stewart changed the subject by talking about the meal he was preparing. He and Haskell talked about the merits of the various ingredients. Haskell was apparently partial to water chestnuts, and Stewart assured him there would be plenty of them in the mix.

  I let the conversation flow around me. I was impatient for Mr. Luckney to arrive. I hoped he would be amenable to answering my questions about his relationship with my grandfather. And about my grandfather’s decision to give Martin Hale that lease.

  The doorbell rang, and I went to answer it. Instead of Asa Luckney, however, I found Gil Jackson on the stoop.

  “Sorry to barge in like this.” Jackson stepped inside before I invited him in. I frowned and shut the door.

  “What can I do for you, Mr. Jackson? I’m expecting someone to arrive any minute now.”

  “I want to talk to you about that land I’m leasing,” he said. “No beating about the bush. I need that land. I’d rather buy it outright, but I’ll continue to lease it if that’s what you want.”

  “You’re supposed to talk to my son about this,” I said. “He’s handling the estate. I’m not going to agree to anything without his knowledge.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Jackson said. “I don’t like dealing with lawyers, though, even if he is your son. I figured we could come to a gentlemen’s agreement, just between you and me.”

  I started to say there was only one gentleman in the room, and it wasn’t him. But that wouldn’t be productive. No point in insulting the man, even though I thoroughly disliked him now.

  “I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint you,” I said in icy tones. “You will have to deal with my son. Now, if that’s all you have to say, I will ask you to leave before the person I invited here arrives.”

  Jackson shot me a hard look. He was not pleased, but I didn’t care. If necessary, I would call Haskell out from the kitchen to help me deal with him.

  The doorbell rang again, and I went back to the door. This time Asa Luckney stood there. “Good evening,” I said. “I really appreciate you taking the time to come by and talk with me.”

  Luckney nodded and came into the house. I remained by the door. “I’ll say good night now, Mr. Jackson.”

  He didn’t take the hint. “What the hell are you doing here?” He scowled at Asa Luckney.

  “I came to talk to Mr. Harris. What are you doing here?” Luckney scowled back.

  “You’re trying to get him to lease all the land to you and that drunken son of yours.” Jackson sneered, and for a moment I thought Mr. Luckney might strike him.

  “That’s enough, Mr. Jackson. I think you should leave now. My business with Mr. Luckney has nothing to do with you.”

  Jackson moved toward the door, still glowering. Before he stepped onto the stoop, he turned and looked at me. “I’m not going to forget about this. I’ll take you to court if I have to. I’m going to keep that land whether you like it or not.”

  “We’ll see about that.” I slammed the door in his face and locked it.

  Asa Luckney laughed. “He oughta be used to that by now. Nobody wants him in their house.”

  “He is not welcome in this one,” I said. “He just barged in when I opened the door. Why don’t you come into the living room, Mr. Luckney? We can talk in there.”

  Luckney nodded and followed me. I switched on the lights and indicated a comfortable chair. He sat where I indicated, and I parked myself on the sofa across from him.

  “I expect you’re wanting to know about your grandfather,” he said. “You wasn’t all that old when he died, as I recall.”

  “Yes, about six, I think,” I replied. “I don’t remember much about him.”

  “The best thing to know about him,” Luckney replied, “was that he was a good man. He always treated me right. I respected him, and he respected me. Back then, that wasn’t common. There was a lot of crazy stuff going on, but he stuck to what he believed in and treated me like he always did.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” I said, touched. “My father raised me that way, and he said that about my grandfather. I’m glad to know it’s true.”

  “You can count on that,” Luckney said.

  “I was told by someone that my grandfather thought a lot of you.”

  “I believe he did,” Luckney replied. “I worked for him from the time I was about thirteen, and he always treated me good. Told me I had a knack for farming.”

  “I’m really surprised that my grandfather gave Martin Hale that life lease on the farm instead of to you,” I said. “I know my grandfather was a teetotaler, and Hale was an alcoholic back then.”

  Luckney looked uncomfortable. This was obviously a sore point with him.

  He eyed me for a moment, and I wondered how he would respond.

  “Your granddaddy told me not long before he died he was going to give me the farm for my lifetime,” he said. “But Martin Hale conned him into changing his mind somehow.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  “I suspected as much,” I said. “Do you have any idea how Hale made him change his mind?”

  Luckney shook his head. “No, sir, I sure don’t. Hurt me pretty bad, I tell you. I thought for some reason Mr. Robert took against me before he died. I went to see him in the nursing home the day he died, and he acted happy to see me. He couldn’t talk much, but he did say, ‘I’m sorry, Asa.’ Then he went to sleep. I waited to see if he would wake up, but he didn’t. Found out later he died that night.”

  “He must have been apologizing for the nasty shock you were going to have,” I said.

  “I reckon so,” Luckney replied. “I never could figure it out, what Mr. Hale did to change your granddaddy’s mind like that. It took me some years, but I finally got a chance to lease some of that land. Though not as much as I wanted. A few years later Mr. Hale leased a big part of the farm to Gil Jackson.”

  That definitely hadn’t set well with Mr. Luckney, I judged by his expression.

  Impulsively, I said, “I haven’t decided yet what I’m going to do about the farm, Mr. Luckney, but I will assure you now that you won’t lose by my decision.” I felt that I needed to make up somehow for my grandfather’s inexplicable change of heart and mind.

  His expression brightened. “Thank you, Mr. Harris. I appreciate that. Is there anything else you want to know?”

  “I could probably keep you here for hours talking about my grandparents,” I said with a smile, “but I know you need to get back to church. We can talk another time, if you are willing.”

  “I’ll be glad to.” He rose and extended a hand to me. I stood and shook it, then I escorted him to the door. He thanked me again before he walked out of the house.

  A welcome contrast to Gil Jackson, I decided. Jackson was crude and quarrelsome. If he hadn’t acted the way he had, I would have been more inclined to agree to his continuing to lease the land. After his unwelcome visit tonight, I had decided he wasn’t going to get his lease renewed. Unless I had no choice in the matter. Sean would know how these things worked.

  I returned to the kitchen, tantalized by the scents of the stir-fry. I spotted on the table the salad Stewart must have put together while I talked to Jackson and Mr. Luckney.

  “Smells wonderful,” I said.

  “Not much longer,” Stewart said. “Go ahead and call Alissa down, and then you can serve yourself salad.”

  I did as Stewart asked. I walked about halfway up the stairs and called out to Alissa that dinner was ready. If her door were open, she should be able to hear me. I waited for a response. None came, so I climbed to the second floor.

  I knocked on the closed door, and Alissa came to open it.

  “Dinner’s ready,” I said.

  She nodded. “I’ll be down in a minute.” She turned away from the door, and Diesel and Ram
ses came out to follow me down to the kitchen.

  Haskell was eating salad when I walked in. I helped myself and chose a dressing from the several bottles on the table. Diesel immediately came to sit beside me and placed a paw on my thigh. Ramses gave his attention to Haskell.

  “This is salad,” I said to my cat. “You don’t like salad, remember?”

  Diesel warbled and withdrew his paw. He sat by my chair and looked sulky.

  In between bites of salad, I told Stewart and Haskell about my unexpected visitor. Haskell scowled, but Stewart said, “The man is totally uncouth. I’d like to set Miss Manners on him. She’d whip even him into shape.”

  I had to laugh at that. Gil Jackson was probably beyond even Miss Manners’s abilities. Haskell voiced that same thought.

  Stewart shrugged. “Somebody needs to bang him upside the head, then, knock some sense into him.”

  “The sheriff’s department has been trying to do that for years,” Haskell said in a mild tone. “Not literally, of course. One of these days he’s going to slip up, or his source in the department is going to be exposed. Then we’ll get him.”

  The current sheriff was a good ol’ boy. Kanesha had challenged him in the most recent election. It had been close, but he had won by a slender majority. I hoped Kanesha would run again and win. We needed someone like her running the department.

  Alissa appeared and took her chair at the table. Haskell moved the salad bowl closer to her, and she thanked him. I wondered if he was ever going to tell her about their family connection. Surely he would, once the murder had been solved and the killer arrested. Unless, for some reason, he had no wish to acknowledge her as family.

  Stewart’s stir-fry was as delicious as expected. The cats were not able to have any because of the garlic in the sauce, but Stewart had set aside some bits of boiled chicken for them so they didn’t feel left out. He doled the bits out to all of us, and Alissa giggled when she received hers.