Out of Circulation (6 page)

Diesel followed closely by my side as I strode up the walk and onto the verandah. In answer to my knock, the door opened almost immediately. Miss Dickce smiled and bade us enter.

The interior of River Hill appeared as elegant as the exterior. A grand staircase led to the upper stories, and the marble floor, where it was bare of antique rugs, gleamed in the light.

“Welcome to River Hill, Charlie, Diesel.”

Miss An’gel approached us through a door to my right and extended her hand. I shook it gently, then released it as she switched her attention to my cat.

The preliminaries of petting Diesel out of the way, we followed the elder Ducote sister into the front parlor. The room reminded me somewhat of the parlor at the Delacorte mansion, simply but beautifully furnished with period pieces. Several portraits and small paintings graced the walls. Miss An’gel invited me to sit in an armchair that proved sturdy despite its delicate appearance. The slender, highly polished arms felt smooth and cool to my touch, and the cushioned seat was surprisingly comfortable.

The Ducotes occupied a nearby sofa close to the fireplace, leaving room for Diesel to spread himself between them. He placed his head in Miss An’gel’s lap, while his tail flopped across Miss Dickce’s legs. The sisters appeared happy with this arrangement, though I winced to think how much cat hair they would have to remove later on from their black dresses.

Miss An’gel pointed to the portrait over the fireplace. “Our ancestor, Beauregard Ducote, who built River Hill.”

I gazed with interest at the gentleman. I had heard his name often enough but had never seen an image of him. From what I could discern from the artist’s vision, Beauregard Ducote was a man of intelligence. Handsome, with a strong nose and an easy smile. Both the sisters favored their ancestor. “Who was the artist?”

“C. R. Parker,” Miss Dickce replied. “He was quite well-known in the antebellum South. He had a studio in New Orleans.”

“As I recall he received a commission for some portraits in the Louisiana Capitol in the 1820s.” I saw some of Parker’s works in an exhibition a few years ago.

“Yes, that is correct.” Miss An’gel inclined her head and bestowed a smile upon me, I assumed in approval of my knowledge.

“Here is Clementine with our tea.”

At Miss Dickce’s words I glanced toward the door to see an elderly woman approaching us pushing a tea cart in front of her. She wore a black maid’s uniform complete with frilly white apron and lace cuffs at her wrists. Her head was bare of a cap, however, and her mocha-colored skin made her silvery hair even more striking.

“Thank you, Clementine, I will pour.” Miss An’gel nodded at her employee, and Clementine rolled the cart to a stop in front of her. She flashed a quick smile at me, but her gaze appeared riveted on Diesel.

“Is that a bobcat?” she asked, her voice deep and raspy. She sounded like a lifelong heavy smoker.

“No, ma’am. He’s a Maine Coon cat, and they can get to be really big. His name is Diesel, and he’s large even for a Maine Coon.” I smiled up at Clementine. “He’s actually a sweet-natured cat and very friendly.”

“Yes, sir.” Clementine grinned. “That the biggest ol’ cat
I ever did see. I reckon I heard about him from Azalea Berry.” With that she turned and left the room.

“I believe Clementine was a good friend of Azalea’s late mother.” Miss An’gel began to pour out the tea, and Miss Dickce prepared a small plate of cookies for me.

I accepted both, worried that I might have one of my clumsy spells and pour tea all over the no-doubt priceless carpet underneath my chair.

Miss Dickce evidently picked up on my anxiety. She pointed to a small table at my elbow that I had overlooked. “There’s a table and a coaster all ready for you, Charlie.”

“Thank you.” I set the cup and saucer down gently. When I focused on the sisters again, I noticed that Miss An’gel had a small plate of what looked like chicken.

“Is it okay to give Diesel a little treat? I thought it would be rude of us not to include him, and Clementine cooked the chicken this afternoon.” Miss An’gel cocked her head to one side as she regarded me.

“That’s very kind of you.” I would have to watch what Diesel cadged from the dinner table tonight, but I figured a little chicken now wouldn’t hurt him.

Miss An’gel fed Diesel a couple of small bites of the chicken before passing the plate to her sister. Diesel quickly shifted position to keep the treats in sight.

I sampled one of the cookies, oatmeal raisin, and almost groaned aloud in pleasure. My expression surely communicated my happiness.

The sisters exchanged a smile, and Miss An’gel chuckled. “Yes, Clementine has quite the touch when it comes to baking.” She wiped her fingers on a linen napkin, then set it aside. Her tone turned brisk as she continued, “We’re delighted you could join us for tea this afternoon, Charlie.
I’m sure you must be wondering, though, why we invited you here on such short notice.”

I set my teacup down with extreme care as I answered. “Yes, ma’am, I do admit to being curious.”

“My sister and I wanted to express our thanks, privately, of course, for the way you stood up to Vera Cassity yesterday. We know she threatened to retaliate.”

My jaw dropped in surprise. How on earth had the Ducote sisters found out about the episode? I hadn’t told anyone, and I couldn’t imagine even Vera having the gall to take her complaint directly to Miss An’gel or Miss Dickce.

As I struggled to frame a reply, Miss Dickce spoke. “We have our sources for what goes on in Athena. People tend to tell us things, and Vera isn’t always as discreet as she should be.”

“Especially when she’s annoyed with someone.” Miss An’gel shook her head. “Even after all this time, she never has learned that it doesn’t pay to shoot your mouth off to all and sundry.”

I could well imagine. Vera Cassity didn’t seem like the type to suffer in silence.

“She did make a couple of threats.” I really didn’t want to go into specifics and was hoping the sisters would let it rest at that.

“You don’t need to have any fears about Diesel,” Miss Dickce said with a serene smile. “Vera won’t be able to do a thing to harm him.” She stroked the cat’s head as he sniffed at the now-empty plate, eager for more tidbits. “Not this beautiful boy.”

Miss An’gel nodded. “And if she dares to cancel that nice young Wardlaw boy’s scholarship, we’ll see that she is thoroughly embarrassed for her meanness.”

Vera was evidently even more indiscreet than I expected. “Thank you,” I said. “I have to admit that her threats had me pretty worked up.” I wondered briefly who the informant was.

“Now you can rest easy.” Miss An’gel had a sip of tea. “We knew already that you were a man of integrity, Charlie, and your actions in protecting the privacy of our family show that clearly.”

As always, any kind of direct praise made me uncomfortable. I mumbled my thanks.

“And you’re modest as well.” Miss Dickce winked at me, and I relaxed. Somehow that little gesture made me feel more comfortable, less like I was having an audience with the queen.

“We’ve put up with Vera’s little tantrums for years because she does pour a lot of money into worthy causes in Athena.” Miss An’gel’s expression turned steely. “But there are limits, and lately Vera has been pushing the boundaries of the acceptable in terms of some of her behavior.”

“And it has nothing to do with her background,” Miss Dickce said. “Despite what she may think.” She shook her head. “Good people are good no matter what kind of family they have. Vera is just plain mean.”

“That she is.” Miss An’gel took back the reins of the conversation. “She thinks we are always thwarting her simply because we think she’s socially unacceptable, but that just proves how self-deluded she is.” She sighed. “But that’s neither here nor there. The problem is, Vera is getting nastier, and she has got to be stopped.”

“She’s meddling in things that don’t concern her,” Miss Dickce said. “Not just our family history, though what she expected to find in the family papers, I haven’t the faintest
idea,” she sniffed. “The Ducotes have been boringly respectable for generations.”

“Sadly, yes.” Miss An’gel laughed. “Dull as ditch water, as the saying goes.” Her expression hardened. “All that aside, Vera is headed for trouble, the kind of trouble she may never survive.”

Miss Dickce burst into laughter. “Oh, Charlie, your face just now. You’d think An’gel was talking about
strangling
Vera the way you looked.”

Diesel tilted his head up at her and warbled.

She laughed again. “See, Diesel thinks it’s funny, too.”

Miss An’gel frowned at her sister. “I’m sure Charlie thought nothing of the sort. You’re entirely too frivolous sometimes.” She turned her attention to me, as I was trying valiantly not to laugh.

“There’s no need for something so extreme to bring Vera to heel,” Miss An’gel said, her tone repressive. “The moment I heard about Vera’s attempt to stick her nose into our family papers, I called our lawyer, Q. C. Pendergrast. He knew exactly what to do to put a halt to such nonsense. He simply got on the phone to Mr. Cassity and explained the situation. That was all it took.”

Miss Dickce rolled her eyes at her sibling. “Do you truly
think Morty has that kind of control over his wife? You go into the library and pull the dictionary off the shelf. Look under
loose cannon
, and you’ll find Vera’s picture. That woman is crazy as a betsy bug.”

“Very amusing, sister.” Miss An’gel cast a venomous glance at Miss Dickce. “I know Vera as well as you do. She has never quite understood the meaning of restraint, but Mr. Cassity holds the purse strings in the family. Without the money to back up her oversized mouth, she can’t accomplish much.”

There had been no opportunity for me to contribute to the conversation, even had I wanted to. Diesel, however, continued to chirp and purr as the sisters engaged in their verbal sparring match. He appeared to be enjoying the exchange. I found it pretty entertaining myself, but I was afraid it might escalate into something unpleasant. I had heard stories of some of their epic arguments and didn’t really want to be witness to one of them.

Miss An’gel must have sensed my concern. “Pay no mind to us, Charlie. This is what comes of two old maids knocking about in a big house like this for decades on end.” She cut a sideways glance at her sister.

Miss Dickce took the cue and nodded. “Oh, yes, Sister and I have a fine old time pointing out each other’s foibles and follies. But we didn’t invite you here to put on a show.” She giggled, looking suddenly twenty years younger.

I wasn’t quite sure what to say, but Diesel saved me from having to reply right away. His continued vocalizing made the Misses Ducote laugh, and that gave me a few seconds more. “I’ve seen siblings, um, have differing opinions before. My son and daughter have the occasional disagreement.”

“Tactful, too,” Miss Dickce murmured.

Her sister ignored her. “We want to assure you, Charlie, that
you don’t have to worry about Vera. We still have to deal with her over the gala, of course, but all the arrangements are well in hand. There’s not much Vera can do to upset them at this point.”

Despite Miss An’gel’s assurances, I wasn’t convinced that Vera could be dismissed that easily. In the long run, though, I would put my money on the Misses Ducote to triumph in any contest with her.

“I’m relieved to hear that, Miss An’gel,” I said. “I’m looking forward to the gala. River Hill is such a lovely setting for an event like that.”

The sisters beamed with pride. “Yes, it is. We’ve been so fortunate to call it home these many years.” Miss An’gel paused. “And you’ll forgive me if I don’t say exactly how many years that is.”

We all shared a smile, and I sneaked a glance at my watch. It was nearly four thirty now, and I should head home soon to help with dinner.

“We’re so pleased you had time to visit this afternoon.” Miss Dickce scratched Diesel’s head. “Both of you. And once the gala is over, you two mustn’t be strangers here.”

“No, indeed.” Miss An’gel rubbed down Diesel’s spine, and the cat’s expression betrayed utter bliss at such attention. I’d have a hard time getting him off that sofa as long as the sisters were petting him.

“Next time you must bring your daughter and son,” Miss An’gel continued. “Q.C. tells us Sean is an outstanding young man, and I do believe he thinks there is a faint sound of wedding bells in the air.”

Before I could respond, Miss Dickce said, “And I would dearly love to hear about Laura’s experiences in Hollywood.”

“She’d be delighted to talk to you about them,” I said. “Sean is very fond of Alexandra, I know, but if they have
any plans for marriage, they haven’t shared them with me.” I smiled. “But I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Mr. Pendergrast is right.”

The sisters nodded as I continued, “Diesel and I both have enjoyed this tremendously, and please express my compliments to Clementine for her wonderful cookies.” I rose. “We mustn’t impose on you any longer, though. It’s time we headed home to help with dinner.”

Miss An’gel stood, and I tried not to wince at the sight of a clump of cat hair on her skirt. She appeared serenely unaware of it. “Of course, Charlie. Thank you again for sharing tea with us.” She stepped forward as her sister gently disengaged herself from Diesel and rose from the sofa.

“Come along, Diesel.” I held out my hand, and after a brief hesitation the cat stepped off the sofa and came to me. I patted his head before we followed the sisters to the front door.

“Miss An’gel, telephone.” Clementine’s voice sounded from behind us.

“In a moment,” Miss An’gel called back. She took my hand and gave it a firm squeeze. “We’ll see you again soon. Now, please excuse me, I must go answer that call.”

I bade her good-bye, and Miss Dickce shook my hand and added her own farewell. “Don’t worry anymore about Vera.”

I assured her I wouldn’t. Diesel and I headed for the car and were soon en route homeward.

The grandfather clock in the front hall was chiming five as Diesel and I entered the kitchen from the garage. Enticing aromas eddied through the air, and my nose took notice. Despite my consumption of several of Clementine’s oatmeal cookies, I felt hungry. The smell of lasagna often did that.