Besides, I’m sure Azalea’s and Stewart’s cooking tasted far better than his cat food.

For dessert I had a nice big wedge of Azalea’s lemon icebox pie. I treated Diesel to a couple of licks of the pie from my finger, and he warbled happily. I agreed. This was my favorite dessert, and I’d never had better than Azalea’s recipe.

I wondered idly where everyone was. Sean was at work at the Pendergrast law offices. Until he could take the Mississippi bar exam in February, he was serving as an assistant—for that read gopher and researcher—for Alexandra and her famous father. Laura and Stewart were done for the semester, and I’d thought I might find one or both of them here.

Foolish hope in Laura’s case—she seemed to spend most of her spare time with Frank Salisbury. Since I liked Frank and thought he was good to my daughter, I didn’t quibble too much over the hours Laura was with him.

I was anxious for Azalea to return from shopping so I could pose my question to her. While I was at it, I might as well ask her if she knew anything about Essie Mae Hobson. Azalea knew as much, if not more, about the families of Athena as Melba did. There was a domestics network that rivaled anything Melba and her cronies operated.

Dirty dishes put away in the sink, I checked my watch. Nearly twelve thirty. I should be back at the library by one, but frankly my heart wasn’t in it. As long as I was preoccupied by the mystery of Vera’s death and its implications, I wouldn’t be able to focus all that well on regular work.

I was reaching for the phone to call Melba and tell her I wasn’t coming back this afternoon when the front doorbell rang. Diesel shot off toward the front door. I’d call Melba later.

“Twice in one day.” Miss Dickce flashed a bright smile when I opened the door. “I hope you won’t get sick at the sight of us, Charlie. Hello, Diesel.”

I invited the Ducote sisters in, and Miss An’gel apologized for bothering me again so soon. She carried a large shopping bag, and she showed me its contents—the award plaque from the previous night—as I ushered them into the living room.

“We feel rather awkward about this,” Miss An’gel said as she took her seat on the sofa. Diesel jumped up between her and Miss Dickce and settled in for some serious attention.

“Clementine found it a little while ago, stuck behind a potted plant in the library,” Miss Dickce said. “We think Morty Cassity should have it.”

Miss An’gel interposed, “But we think it might be better if someone else took it to him. Morty is aware of the ill feelings Vera had toward us, and it might be more tactful if we kept ourselves out of it.”

I thought they were being overly sensitive, but far be it from me to tell them that. “Would you like me to deliver it to Mr. Cassity?”