She stowed the vacuum cleaner in the closet where she kept extra cleaning supplies and then finally joined Diesel and me on the landing. “Yes, sir?”

“Just a quick question,” I said in a reassuring tone. “I forgot something when we talked this morning.”

Her lips tightened, but she nodded.

“I wanted to check. Did you tell the sheriff everything you told me? When he questioned you last night?”

“Yes, sir, I told that fool what he wanted to know.”

I noticed that she didn’t answer the exact question I’d posed, but I decided not to press her on it. Then I remembered there was something else I wanted to ask her.

“Sorry, Azalea, I just thought of one more thing. Do you know anything about the Hobson family? In particular Essie Mae Hobson? She was Vera Cassity’s mother.”

“No-account white trash,” Azalea sniffed. “Miss Essie Mae was a nice lady, but she sure married into a bad group of folks.”

“Do you know anything more about Essie Mae? Like who her people were, anything like that?”

Again, that fleeting second of hesitation before she responded. “No, sir, I sure don’t. Now, I got to get supper started.” She headed down the stairs.

TWENTY-THREE

Slightly stunned, I stood at the top of the stairs and watched Azalea go down. Why did I get the feeling that she was holding something back? Was my imagination working overtime?

“Come on, Diesel.” I went into my bedroom and closed the door after the cat walked in. He hopped up on the bed and settled down for a snooze. Right about now a nap would be nice, but I didn’t have the time.

I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled out my cell phone. Maybe Kanesha could dig up some information on Essie Mae Hobson. Once again I got voice mail. I let her know her mother’s response to the question of whether she had told the sheriff what she’d told me about Vera’s last moments. Then I related the incident just now and ended the call.

There was no point in my going back to the archives for the rest of the afternoon, but I felt at a loss over what to do next. I’d start looking in the Ducote papers for some mention of Essie Mae tomorrow.

I looked down at Diesel, comfortably stretched out and already asleep. All of a sudden I felt really tired. What the heck, I thought. I kicked off my shoes and stretched out right alongside the cat.

The ringing of my cell phone roused me sometime later. I checked my watch as I sat up and reached for the phone. I’d napped for nearly ninety minutes—it was almost four thirty. My brain felt a little foggy as I answered the call.

“Hello, honey,” Helen Louise said. “How about dinner tonight at my house? Diesel, too, of course. I feel like spending some time with my two favorite guys. I decided I can catch up on my sleep later.”