Tidwell stared hard at me. “You’re sure that’s all she said?”

His tone irritated me. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“What was Miz Berry’s relationship to Miz Cassity?”

“None that I know of.”

I thought he would press me on that, and when he didn’t, I found it strange. He was no dummy, despite Kanesha’s earlier comment when she referred to him as an idiot. That was only her anger talking. Tidwell was a sharp, politically savvy man, and he might be perfectly aware of Azalea’s antipathy toward Vera.

My mind flashed back to the scene I’d witnessed between the two women earlier tonight. I hoped I wouldn’t have to tell the sheriff about that, at least not until I’d had a chance to talk to Azalea about it—and Kanesha, too.

“I reckon that’s all for now, Mr. Harris. If I have more questions, I’ll let you know.”

I rose gratefully. “Certainly, Sheriff.” His deputy showed me out and escorted me to the front door.

I found my car, keys in the ignition, in the driveway. A deputy waited nearby, and I figured they had sent the valets home earlier. I climbed in and headed for home, yawning the whole way.

The house was quiet when I reached it, with lights burning in the kitchen and the hallway. I made my way slowly up the stairs to my bedroom, and within five minutes I was in bed. I barely had time to wonder where Diesel was before I dropped off to sleep.

Having failed to set the alarm before I stumbled into bed, I woke two hours later than usual, around eight thirty. As I began to stir, I felt a paw on my arm. I turned to see Diesel sitting on the bed beside me. He meowed at me, and I scooped an arm around him and pulled him closer. He warbled for me as I rubbed up and down his back, then concentrated on his head. There was no standoff kitty routine this morning. He was as happy to see me as I was to see him.

Twenty minutes later, showered and dressed for work, I caught the scents of fresh coffee and bacon as Diesel and I headed downstairs. My stomach rumbled. Either Stewart or Laura must be cooking breakfast, and I was grateful. Even though I was running late, I was so hungry I wasn’t going to skip this meal. I needed energy for the day ahead.

When I walked into the kitchen, Azalea turned away from the stove to glare at me. “I didn’t murder nobody. Not even that hateful woman.”

FIFTEEN

I hadn’t expected to see Azalea at her usual place at the stove this morning. For one thing, she had to be even more exhausted than I was last night. But here she was. The woman was indomitable.

“Of course you didn’t.” I put every ounce of conviction I could muster into those four words.

The rigid set of my housekeeper’s shoulders relaxed a fraction. “Thank you, Mr. Charlie. I appreciate that.” She turned back to the stove.