Diesel had moved under my chair during the tense moments between the Beauchamp siblings, and I almost wished I could join him. It hadn’t been pleasant. As I surveyed the room, I decided the rumors about financial problems were actual fact. The threadbare, skimpy furnishings and the chilly indoor temperature spoke loudly. Apparently they couldn’t even afford firewood.

Sissy came back, check in hand. I rose to accept it and thanked her. “We’ll be on our way now. I’m sure you have lots to do.” I tucked the check into my pocket without examining it.

She nodded and escorted us to the front door. “See you at the next board meeting.”

“’Bye until then.” I stepped off the portico and headed for the car, Diesel loping alongside.

As we drove back to the library, I replayed the whole thing in my mind. I had the odd feeling there was something I’d missed, but whatever it was, I couldn’t get it to surface. The best thing would be for me to get back to the archives and get on with my research in the Ducote papers. If it were truly important, whatever I had missed would come to me later.

Right now I was anxious to get back to the archives. I honestly didn’t expect to find anything that would shed light on Vera’s death, but the sooner I could rule this possibility out, the better.

TWENTY-SIX

I stuck my head in Melba’s office to let her know we were back. She was on the phone so I was able to escape temporarily. I figured she would be up later to grill me.

Diesel went straight to his water bowl when we reached the office. He meowed loudly to let me know it was empty. I took care of that, checked my e-mail and voice mail, and realized happily there was nothing that couldn’t wait. I left the cat napping in the window while I went to the room next door where most of the archival collections were stored.

Before I looked for the boxes of Ducote papers, I checked the climate control system. To maintain the materials properly required a constant temperature of no higher than seventy degrees Fahrenheit and a humidity level between thirty and fifty percent. Otherwise irreparable damage could occur. Both temperature and humidity were fine. I left the door closed but not on the latch, in case Diesel should come looking for me. He was strong enough to push the door open and enter.

I had checked the records earlier to find out how many boxes of materials made up the Ducote archives. I was relieved to discover that there were only eighteen. All but two of the boxes had been gifted to the archives before my tenure started nearly four years ago. I had looked through the two newer boxes when I accessioned them and listed their contents, and they contained papers from the last twenty years. I decided to leave them till last.

My search might be tedious, but each box contained a list of contents and approximate dates of materials, and I was hoping that a scan of the lists could save me time. I reasoned that Essie Mae Hobson could have been a maid or some other kind of employee at River Hill, and account books should reveal that. I had also narrowed the time frame to between seventy-five and eighty-five years ago, based on Vera’s age. I figured it reasonable that any association that Essie Mae Hobson had with the Ducotes probably occurred within the decade before Vera was born.