We shared a laugh. Diesel was a bright feline, but there were limits to a cat’s abilities, after all.

“Will they release Eagleton once the killer is caught?” I ate more of the delicious quiche. My stomach felt happier, even if my brain didn’t. “Unless he was dressed up as a woman, he wasn’t the person Mr. Andrews saw leaving with that box.”

“That will depend partly on Mrs. Cartwright and her family. If they insist on pressing charges, everything will go forward. Unless, naturally, we can prove that the killer planted the manuscripts in my client’s room.”

“It will all get worked out. In the meantime I guess I should get back to my research.” I got up from the table to put my plate and utensils in the sink. “Thanks again for lunch. My prospects were meager until you showed up.”

“My pleasure.” Sean popped the last bite of quiche in his mouth. I cleared his place, and he dropped the beer bottle into the recycle bin. “I’m heading back to the office, Dad. Let me know if you find anything to help my client.”

“Will do.”

Sean waved on his way out of the kitchen.

I thought about stopping him to ask about the status of his engagement but quickly realized he wouldn’t welcome my inquiry. He would talk to me about it when he was ready.

I resumed my place at the table and pulled the newsletters toward me. A large paw tapped my thigh. Diesel stared hopefully at me. I had no doubt that, had he been able, he would have pointed to his open mouth to let me know he was all hollow inside. I couldn’t help but laugh. I pushed back from the table. “Okay, boy, I’ll give you a few treats, but that’s it.” I had filled his dry food bowl this morning, but by now he had probably cleaned it out. “No more until dinnertime tonight.”

My act of mercy accomplished, I went back to work. Over the next hour I made it through another third of the stack. The number of different contributors increased. The content of the articles varied greatly, as did the writing ability of the authors. I winced over a few examples of particularly bad prose. Perhaps Carrie Taylor hadn’t felt like she could offend people by tampering with their work, or she might not have been bothered the way I was.

I decided to switch from the newsletters to the scrapbook. I needed a change to refresh my brain, not to mention my eyes. I picked up the scrapbook and opened it to the first page.