“I know Mama is pretty fond of your daughter, but the more you try to get Mama to do something, the less she’s inclined to do it. It’s best that Laura stays out of it.” Kanesha rose. “It’s bad enough that I had to involve you. I need to get home, so I won’t keep you any longer. Let me know anything you find out.”

“I will,” I said as I showed her to the front door. “I need to check the county and city records for anything regarding Essie Mae Hobson. But maybe it would be better if you did it.”

She paused on the doorstep. “No, it’s better if you do it. I need to keep my fingerprints off this investigation as much as possible, at least for now. The woman in the records office will help you. They get people looking in the records all the time, and she’s not going to think anything about your poking your nose in. Good night.” With that she turned and headed down the walk.

I waited until she reached her car before I closed the door and locked it.

The house was quiet as I climbed the stairs. It was only a quarter past nine, but I was more than ready for bed. There was no cat on the bed when I entered my room. Diesel was most likely with Laura. I left the door cracked so he could get in, whenever he deigned to join me for the night.

I dropped off to sleep quickly, too tired even to think much about the events of the past twenty-four hours. I awoke the next morning when the alarm went off. Diesel purred in my ear to make sure I didn’t try to roll over and go back to sleep.

Fat chance of that happening, not with a thirty-six-pound alarm clock always ready to pounce into action.

On the way downstairs about twenty minutes later I was surprised not to smell the usual odors of fresh biscuits and bacon or sausage wafting through the house. Surely Azalea was here. She had never missed a day since the day I moved in.

I found a note on the kitchen table. It informed me—in Azalea’s hand—that Azalea was unwell and couldn’t work today. Not a surprise, really. I thought she should have stayed home the day before, too, but she was too stubborn to give in. Today, though, it had all caught up with her. I hoped she took it easy and actually did rest at home, but I wouldn’t count on it.

Though I had the time, I didn’t feel like cooking a full breakfast. Instead I contented myself with cereal, toast, and some apple juice. It wouldn’t hurt me to miss one cholesterol-laden breakfast, that was for sure. I enjoyed the quiet as I read the paper, sipped my coffee, and finished my simple meal.

Diesel didn’t pester me for anything, once he realized there were no pancakes, bacon, or sausage to be had. He turned up his nose at mere wheat toast and bites of cereal.