My head ached from trying to sort out who died when and the possible implications of wills and inheritances. I’d better get down to the courthouse as soon as possible.

I checked the time. Too late to go today; it was already seventeen minutes after five. The courthouse would have to wait until tomorrow morning.

“Come on, Diesel, let’s go home.” I shut down the computer, put the journal away in my desk and locked it, thought about it a moment, unlocked the desk, and pulled the journal back out. Maybe I should take it home with me to finish reading tonight.

No, that wouldn’t be right. Materials from the Ducote Collection were not supposed to leave the archives. Back into the drawer went the journal again, and this time it stayed there.

Diesel, impatient to be on the way, meowed loudly at me. He was already by the door, and I didn’t linger.

On the walk home my head buzzed with questions. A new one that occurred to me was whether I should share the revelations from Cecilia Ducote’s journal with Kanesha. If one of the Ducote sisters did turn out to be the killer, then the information about the relationship with Vera would have to come out.

But if they were both innocent, there was no point in anyone else knowing the story. It was a private family matter, and I felt guilty enough as it was for having pried into it myself.

I couldn’t share this with Kanesha yet. If I found some proof that either Miss An’gel or Miss Dickce pushed Vera down those stairs, I would have to. But until then I would keep quiet about what I’d learned.

That one decision made, I felt better. Diesel and I turned into the driveway and headed for the back door. I let him open the door, and while he did, I pulled my ringing cell phone from my pocket.

Kanesha. That was eerie. I had just been thinking about her, and now she was calling. I stepped into the empty kitchen as I answered.

“I’m about five minutes away from there. Okay if I stop by?” she said after barely giving me time to say hello.

“Sure, come on by.”

I had just enough time to shed my coat and read a hastily scrawled note from Laura, informing me that everyone would be out for dinner tonight and I was on my own, when the doorbell rang.

“Thought it would be good to check in with you, share information,” Kanesha said without preamble the moment I opened the door.

I stood aside for her to enter and then followed her into the kitchen where Diesel was waiting. He meowed loudly three times, and I understood the message.

“Please have a seat, and I’ll be back in a minute,” I said with an apologetic smile. “His Majesty has informed me that the Royal Food Bowl is empty and in need of filling.”

Kanesha scowled as she pulled out a chair and sat.