That was probably the closest to swearing that Miss An’gel would come in mixed company, and once again I had to resist the urge to grin.

“Azalea Berry is a fine Christian woman,” Miss Dickce said. “She would never strike another person in anger. She does have a temper, the good Lord only knows, but she would never turn violent.”

“Even though she did have plenty of reasons to despise Vera.” Miss An’gel sighed. “Now, think about your aunt Dottie, Charlie. Wouldn’t she have wanted you to do your best for Azalea?”

That was hitting below the belt, and from the gleam in Miss An’gel’s eye, I saw she knew exactly what she was doing and was daring me to deny her.

I’d rather take on Attila and a battalion of his Huns before I’d hold out against Miss An’gel. “Very well, I’ll do what I can.”

“Good man.” Miss An’gel beamed, and Miss Dickce nodded. They both rose. Miss An’gel continued, “Now you must excuse us, Charlie. We have an appointment with Q. C. Pendergrast. If you need anything at all, let us know.” After calling good-bye to Diesel and receiving meows in return, they departed.

Too late I realized I hadn’t asked them about Azalea’s possible motive for killing Vera. If I was going to help exonerate Azalea completely and identify the real killer, I needed to know the source of Azalea’s loathing for Vera. Otherwise I’d just be spinning my wheels and not accomplishing much.

I turned to look at my cat lounging in the window. “I have my marching orders, boy, but I’m not too thrilled about it.” I reached forward to rub his head, and his expression of blissful contentment tickled me. I wouldn’t mind trading places with him for a week or two, though the litter box might not be that much fun. “All that will have to wait, though. Right now I need to get back to the work I’m actually paid to do.”

“I always figured you talked to that cat. What I want to know is, does he talk back?”

I whirled around to see Kanesha Berry standing in the doorway. Her expression enigmatic as ever, I couldn’t tell whether she was amused or annoyed. I felt my face redden.

“Please, come in.” I stood and beckoned her forward.

We both sat, and I watched her warily. Was this an official visit? I presumed it was, since she was in uniform.

“I’m not part of the investigation into Mrs. Cassity’s murder.” Kanesha stared right at me. “So this is all off the record, all right?”

Surprised, I nodded. “Fine with me.”

“Despite the evidence to the contrary, the sheriff is insisting on treating my mother as the chief suspect.” Kanesha’s nostrils flared, a slight crack in the facade. “It’s absolutely ridiculous because it would have been physically impossible for Mama to push that woman down the stairs.”

“I know,” I said, and Kanesha’s eyes gleamed. “She was locked in at the bottom of the stairs—the narrow stairs—and there was no way she could have pushed Vera down from above and then gotten herself to the bottom without trampling all over the body.”