Out of Circulation

by Miranda James

  I hoped the hordes were advancing up the walk right this minute. The sooner the house filled with people, the better. Plus, the less likely—or so I hoped—that we would witness further histrionics from the board members.

  The doorbell rang, and the butler went into action. The first arrivals came into the hallway, and others quickly followed. Soon there were at least thirty people milling about, and Helen Louise and I did our duty and greeted as many of them as possible and complimented them on their costumes.

  The crowd parted for a moment, and I saw three people admitted, two of whom I recognized. Kanesha Berry, chief deputy of the Athena County Sheriff’s Department, strode in, accompanied by her mother, Azalea. Behind them came a tall, striking black man. He appeared to acompany Kanesha, and that intrigued me. I knew almost nothing about Kanesha’s private life, other than the fact that she was unmarried and had no children. Azalea complained about these two lamentable states from time to time.

  Azalea didn’t appear to be in costume, unless her sensible print dress, short jacket, and comfortable shoes were clues to a character I didn’t recognize. Frankly, I wasn’t surprised because somehow I couldn’t see Azalea consenting to dress up as someone else.

  Kanesha, on the other hand, was dressed in far different fashion from the manner in which I usually encountered her. No uniform tonight—instead she wore a sleek, bright orange pantsuit, and large bangles in her ears. Her hair was pulled severely back with a large bun jutting upward. A purple and orange scarf cinched her waist, and her high-heeled purple pumps completed the outfit. I knew she was a mystery fan, but I hadn’t a clue whether she was dressed in costume or simply as herself.

  Her companion, who looked to be at least six foot six, towered over her. His clothing was in stark contrast to Kanesha’s because he looked like he’d bought the cheapest things he could find and put them on without washing and ironing them first. Khakis with a sharp crease and a drab flannel shirt with the collar of a T-shirt just visible at his neckline. Except for his height, he would blend into the woodwork, but perhaps that was the intention.

  It took me a moment—because I hadn’t yet read any of the books—but I figured it out. Jack Reacher, the hero of Lee Child’s series. Teresa was a big fan, I knew, and we had talked about the series several times.

  Kanesha spotted Helen Louise and me and looked up at her companion. They spoke briefly, then approached us along with Azalea.

  “Good evening, Azalea.” Helen Louise extended a hand, and my housekeeper grasped it briefly. “How lovely to see you here tonight.”

  “Somebody insisted I had to tag along.” Azalea glowered at her daughter. “Ain’t got much use for dressing up and carrying on. Especially knowing who’s going to be here.”

  That was probably a reference to Vera Cassity, and I sent up a quick but fervent prayer that Vera stayed out of Azalea’s way.

  “Mama, I’m sure you’d enjoy yourself if you tried.” Kanesha’s long-suffering tone elicited another hard glance from her mother.

  “I understand, Azalea, believe me.” I smiled. “I’d much rather be home right now. All these people milling around make me feel tired.”

  “You a homebody like me, Mr. Charlie.” Azalea nodded in approval. “Although you do get to gadding about sometimes and being nosy.”

  “Mama.” Kanesha invested the word with years of wrangling with her parent. I sympathized with her, especially given my recent experience with Azalea.

  “Evening, folks.” Kanesha’s friend spoke, probably tired of waiting for his companion to recall her manners and introduce him. He stuck out a hand. “Robert Sharp. Nice to meet you.”

  I quickly introduced myself and Helen Louise.

  “You’ve been in my bakery a couple of times,” she said. “As I recall you’re pretty fond of my bacon and onion quiche.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I surely am.” Sharp’s slow drawl marked him as a fellow Southerner, and I wondered whether he’d grown up in Athena. “I can’t eat it too often, though, have to watch my cholesterol.”

  “Robert is a cardiologist,” Kanesha said. She appeared a bit fidgety. “He moved here from Atlanta about six months ago.”

  “I hope you’re not finding Athena too slow paced, compared to Atlanta.” I noticed that Kanesha continued to act ill at ease, but I couldn’t imagine why.

  “I grew up in a small town south of Atlanta,” Sharp responded. “Couldn’t wait to get out of the big city, and I’m sure glad I found Athena.” He gazed down at Kanesha with what I interpreted as a doting look.

  Kanesha squirmed a bit, and I finally realized that she was uncomfortable being in public with her boyfriend. She was an intensely private person—exactly like her mother in that respect—and she probably didn’t want anyone who wasn’t a close connection knowing too much about her life outside the job.

  “Going to find Clementine, see if she needs help.” Azalea nodded at us before she disappeared into the increasing throng crowding the hallway.

  “Mama, you come back here.” Kanesha entreated her mother in vain.

  “Let her be, babe,” Sharp said, placing a large hand on Kanesha’s shoulder. “You know she’s going to do exactly what she wants. Relax and enjoy yourself.”

  The understated note of humor in his voice convinced me that he already knew the Berry women pretty well.

  “Yes, help yourselves to the food and drink.” Helen Louise looked about for a waiter. “You might want to escape into one of the other rooms, though. It’s getting pretty cramped in here.”

  “Great idea.” Sharp took Kanesha by the arm and drew her toward the parlor. “Talk to you later.”

  “How wonderful,” Helen Louise said in an undertone. “I’m so glad she’s found such a delightful man. Gorgeous, and a cardiologist, too. I’m sure Azalea must be thrilled.”

  “She will be if she can get Kanesha married off with a houseful of grandchildren.” Privately I thought Azalea was right. I hoped Dr. Sharp was just what she needed, and vice versa.

  People finally began to move into other rooms and made some space in the hallway. More arrivals, however, soon added to the crush. By this time my feet ached, I needed desperately to find the bathroom, and I wanted something besides champagne.

  Helen Louise asked me to bring her water, too, when I shared my needs with her. Then I threaded my way through the crowd in the direction of the kitchen. Muttering excuse me over and over, I dodged bodies until I finally made it down the hall to the back of the house.

  I opened a door and stepped into the room beyond. Instead of the hive of activity I expected, I found myself in a small room with two women—Azalea and Vera—in the midst of a yelling match.

  “…pure evil. The Lord gonna strike you down one day for all your lies, and I’m gonna be there to sing His praises.”

  TWELVE

  Should I intervene?

  Azalea looked like the wrath of God about to strike, fists clenched at her sides, her breathing labored.

  Vera, on the other hand, eyed my housekeeper with cold contempt. “My conscience is clear. If the Lord strikes anyone down for lies, it will be you. And if you spread any of your lies in public, my lawyer will take care of it.” She turned in my direction, started in surprise, but then brushed past me as if I had turned invisible.

  As the door shut behind me, I regarded Azalea with concern. She drew shuddering breaths, and I feared she might have a stroke. I scuttled over to her and put an arm around her shoulders. She leaned against me for a moment, her eyes closed.

  “Do you need a doctor?” I asked. “Why don’t you sit down and let me get you something?”

  She let me lead her a few feet to a chair, and she sank down. Her eyes opened, and she stared at me as I knelt before her. Her breathing slowed and returned to normal. When she spoke, her voice came out in a hoarse whisper. “No, Mr. Charlie, I’ll be fine. Just need a minute to catch my breath.”

  “Would you like me to find Kanesha and Dr. Sharp?” She should have her daught
er with her, and a cardiologist on hand wouldn’t hurt, either.

  “No.” The sharp blast of the word startled me, and I rocked back on my heels. Azalea’s gaze was fierce. “Don’t be telling her about this. No point to it.”

  “If that’s what you want.” I burned with curiosity, even as my concern for her well-being mounted. She didn’t look good at all, and I still feared she might suffer a stroke or a mild heart attack. “Let me get you something to drink.”

  “I told you I’ll be fine.” Azalea scowled at me. She pushed herself up out of the chair, and I hastened to get to my feet and out of her way.

  “Thank you, Mr. Charlie. You’re a good-hearted man, but you got no cause to be worrying about me.” She moved toward the door. “I’m gonna find Clementine.” She left the room.

  I hesitated, debating whether I should talk to Kanesha despite Azalea’s request that I not. Whatever caused the bitter hatred Azalea had for Vera, Kanesha surely knew about it. Did she also need to know about this confrontation?

  It really wasn’t any of my business, as Azalea had already informed me. I squirmed at the memory. Best to stay out of it, then.

  I remembered why I’d left Helen Louise in the hall and decided I’d better attend to my needs, find some water for us both, and get back to my duties as a board member.

  There was no sign of Azalea or Clementine in the kitchen when I finally remembered the correct door. Glasses of water in hand, I found Helen Louise where I’d left her about ten minutes before. She accepted the water gratefully. I would keep mum on the scene I’d witnessed, at least for now.

  The influx of guests slowed after another twenty minutes, and Helen Louise and I moved into the parlor where Miss An’gel and Miss Dickce held court by the fireplace underneath their ancestor’s portrait. I spotted Vera in one corner, talking to Cathy Williams and Robert Sharp—no doubt giving them a rundown on all the things she had done to benefit the Athena hospital.

  Sissy and Hank occupied another corner, heads together, seemingly oblivious to the party going on around them.

  Helen Louise found two empty chairs and occupied one of them with a sigh of relief. “My feet are killing me. I’m not used to wearing high-heeled pumps like these.” She rubbed her right calf, and I admired the shapely curve. She caught me looking and grinned, and I grinned back.

  Miss An’gel addressed the room in a loud voice. “Good evening, everyone. Could I have your attention, please?” She waited a moment for the hubbub to die down, then issued her appeal for quiet again. The buzz subsided, and Miss An’gel regarded the assembled company with a gracious smile.

  “Thank you all. On behalf of my fellow Friends of the Library board members, I thank you for your support of tonight’s event. Your generous sponsorship of the library’s programs makes a huge difference to literacy efforts in our town and the surrounding area.” She beckoned for Teresa Farmer to join her.

  Teresa stepped up and added a few words of thanks, then moved aside.

  Miss An’gel spoke again. “Tonight we have a special presentation to make, and I’m delighted to introduce our mayor, who will do the honors. Please, everyone, welcome the Honorable Lucinda Beckwith Long.”

  The mayor joined Miss An’gel beneath the portrait, a large plaque in her hands. Lucinda Long, daughter of another of the first families of Athena, was the product of several generations of well-known Mississippi politicians. She was rumored to be contemplating a run for governor, while her son currently served in the state legislature. Dressed impeccably in a rose wool suit and high heels, she was every inch the public figure.

  I leaned over to whisper in Helen Louise’s ear. “This is the first I’ve heard about the presentation of an award. Is this something the board does at every gala?”

  Helen Louise frowned and shook her head. “No, this is something new. Strange that you didn’t know about it.”

  I shrugged. Perhaps the board had discussed it before I joined and the subject hadn’t come up again. I would ask Miss An’gel or Miss Dickce about it later. I settled back to listen to the mayor.

  “Good evening, everyone.” Lucinda Long offered her standard mayoral smile, one that never seemed to reach her eyes. She had always struck me as rather a cold person, but she was an efficient and energetic mayor, at least. “As Miss An’gel said, this is a wonderful event, and I’m proud to see my fellow citizens here supporting a truly worthy cause. I’m also delighted to be asked to present a special award tonight to a citizen of Athena who has worked tirelessly over the years to promote the well-being of our town in so many areas. At the same time, however, I am saddened to know that this highly esteemed person has decided to retire from public life for personal reasons. Everyone in Athena will miss her helping hands, but we will remain forever grateful for all she has done in the past, and I know we all will wish her well in her retirement.”

  The mayor paused, and I had the impression everyone in the room held their breath waiting for this paragon to be named. I figured I knew who was going to receive the award, and I admired the masterstroke that Miss An’gel had obviously engineered. Machiavelli had nothing on her. I glanced at Helen Louise, and I could see her suppressing a grin. She’d figured it out as well.

  The mayor spoke again. “It is my great pleasure to present the first Beauregard Ducote Award for Distinguished Public Service to Mrs. Morton Cassity. Vera, would you please come forward to accept the award?”

  There was a moment of silence before the applause broke out, and I could have sworn I heard a gasp. I was watching Vera when the mayor made the announcement, and her jaw dropped open, even as her face flooded with color to match her over-the-top costume. Fury flashed in Vera’s eyes as she made her way forward.

  Would she accept her defeat graciously? I wondered. If she didn’t, she risked huge public embarrassment. She would become a laughingstock if she made a scene, and somehow I couldn’t see Vera exposing herself to open public ridicule.

  Vera’s hoop skirt snagged on the spurs worn by one man in cowboy garb. As she jerked the fabric loose with a vicious tug, she nearly pulled the man off his feet. He managed to stay upright, but Vera never paused to apologize. She made it the last three feet to where the mayor and Miss An’gel waited and turned to face the room.

  Miss An’gel preempted her. “Vera, my dear, I’m so delighted you were chosen for this award, and my sister and I are thrilled to support it. You have done so much for the community, and we wanted to be sure you got the kind of award you so richly deserve. We regret that you have decided to retire from your charitable work, but we understand that sometimes private life must come before public duty. We will surely miss your work with the Friends of Athena Public Library.” She bestowed a beaming smile upon her adversary.

  Vera’s shoulders slumped as she accepted the plaque from Lucinda Long. She struggled for a smile but never quite managed it. When she spoke her voice was unsteady. “I can’t tell you all how surprised I am to receive this. I never expected anything like it.” Her mouth closed, and she stood there awkwardly, clasping the award to her bosom.

  I almost felt sorry for her. The Ducote sisters had managed to spike her guns but good.

  I was also relieved that she appeared to accept the inevitable. There had been enough unpleasant scenes tonight.

  Morty Cassity joined his wife, and Miss An’gel stepped aside. “Thank you all. I know Vera is touched and honored by this gesture.” He frowned, no doubt puzzled by all this, since I was sure it was as much a surprise to him as it was to his wife. “I think this calls for some more of that fine champagne.” He led Vera away, and conversation slowly resumed as the waiters spread through the room dispensing more of the bubbly.

  Helen Louise and I looked at each other. “Can you beat that?” I said.

  She grinned. “Remind me never to get on Miss An’gel’s bad side. That was absolutely brilliant.”

  “You have to hand it to her. She said she and Miss Dickce were going to neutralize Vera, and they did it.”
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br />   I felt a hand on my shoulder and glanced up to see my daughter, suddenly blond, smiling down at me. “Hi, Dad, Helen Louise. Frank and I ran late, I’m afraid. What did we miss?”

  Frank, a husky, bearded young man a few years older than Laura, greeted us. “My fault. Had a student having a postexam meltdown that I had to take care of.” Frank taught lighting and set design at the college.

  “We only caught the tail end of it.” Laura sipped her champagne. “Mrs. Cassity looked like a thundercloud when she passed us on the way out of the room.”

  I quickly explained, and Frank and Laura shared a glance of amusement.

  “Think that will really shut her up?” Frank shook his head. “In my experience nothing except the grave will stop that harpy from meddling in things.”

  “After what Miss An’gel just pulled off,” Helen Louise said, “Vera will look like a fool if she doesn’t go quietly.”

  “Enough of that,” I said. “Let’s forget about Vera and try to enjoy the party.” I examined my daughter. The fake hair, along with a demure wool dress, gloves, sensible shoes, and cloche hat, reminded me of illustrations from one of my favorite series of children’s books. She also clutched a magnifying glass in one hand. When I matched that with Frank’s getup—gray flannel trousers, white shirt with bow tie, and letterman’s sweater emblazoned with a large E—I figured I knew who they were supposed to be.

  Helen Louise spoke first, however. “Well, Miss Nancy Drew, how nice to see you with your favorite escort, Ned Nickerson. How are things at Emerson College, Ned?”

  Frank laughed. “Peachy keen, ma’am. I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t shave tonight.”

  “I think Ned looks rather fetching with a beard, don’t you?” Laura’s eyes sparkled with humor as she regarded her boyfriend.