I didn’t entirely trust Vera, even in death. If I complied with her request, I could waste a lot of time on something that was a complete dead end.

What should I do? Ignore this and focus on other aspects of the case?

What other aspects did I have to focus on?

Morty Cassity and his desire for a divorce, for one.

Sissy Beauchamp’s alleged desire to marry Morty, for another.

I couldn’t rule out Hank Beauchamp, either. He might be just as interested in Morty’s money as his sister. I recalled the unpleasant little scene at Helen Louise’s bakery, when Hank’s credit card was declined.

Then there was Azalea, and potentially her sister Lily. Both of them despised Vera because of what had happened to Lily’s son, Johnny. But Lily wasn’t at River Hill last night, so far as I knew, and Azalea couldn’t have pushed Vera down the stairs.

That let Azalea out, but I couldn’t forget my feeling that she’d seen more than she’d been willing to admit to me this morning.

Kanesha. I needed to talk to Kanesha, let her know what her mother had told me and share with her the photograph and phone message from Vera.

I found the card with her private cell number and called it. Voice mail. I left a hasty message, stressing that it was urgent she call me back.

Within two minutes my phone rang—Kanesha returning my call.

“Are you where you can talk?” I asked.

“No. Where are you? I can meet you.” She sounded angry—not at me, I hoped.

“The archives. Come as soon as you can.”

“Right.” She ended the call.

I tried to settle down to work while I waited for her, but to no avail. My brain simply couldn’t focus on regular tasks. I kept hearing Vera’s voice in my head, and that wasn’t pleasant. The sooner I told Kanesha about this, the better. Maybe then Vera’s voice would go away.

Either Kanesha broke the speed limit or she wasn’t far away when she called me back, because she walked in my office door within ten minutes.

“Shut the door,” I said. “I don’t want to be overheard.”

Diesel sat up and warbled a greeting at her, but she was so focused on me she didn’t appear to notice. Diesel resumed his nap, no doubt affronted at the slight.

“You talked to my mother,” she said as she slid into a chair.

“Yes, I did.” I launched into a full summary of Azalea’s story, and Kanesha did not speak until I finished. While I talked I tried to read her expression, but it was no use. She had the consummate poker face.

“Did she tell the sheriff everything she told you?”

I felt like an idiot. “I don’t know. I didn’t think to ask.”

Kanesha’s lips tightened. “You’ve got to ask her that. I tried to get a look at the statements they took last night, but the sheriff is making sure I can’t.”