“Nada,” Tinkie said as she joined me.
“Nothing here that I can find.” I was dejected. “Let’s get out of here before someone else, like the law, stumbles in.”
“Yes, time to go.” Tinkie moved back into the kitchen where she looked out the window on a beautiful backyard. The little calico was back, winding around her legs. “This is the sweetest cat,” she said. “I want my baby to grow up with pets, to learn to love them and treat them with respect. Maybe if Kathleen doesn’t … if Darla doesn’t want her, I could talk to Oscar about taking her.”
“A perfect idea.” The kitty would live life in the lap of luxury if she became Tinkie’s pet. And Chablis, her little pooch, was cat friendly.
We were exiting the kitchen when the cat jumped on top of the stove, and from there onto a shelf where some knickknacks and cookbooks were stored. “Bad kitty!” I moved the cat to the floor. Had the stovetop been on, the cat could have been hurt. “Stay off the stove.” I shooed her into the living room as Tinkie reached up for a cookbook. Kathleen wasn’t a tall person, so the shelf was within Tinkie’s strike zone.
“Look at this, Sarah Booth. Antebellum Recipes from Lorilee’s Kitchen. This is a collector’s cookbook.”
“Put it back. You know you can’t cook worth a lick. Don’t even pretend. I don’t want you to give Oscar food poisoning.”
She gave me a sour look and reached up to return the book to the shelf, but holding it in her sleeved hand made her clumsy. Several books came tumbling down. The one that fell on top was a slim leather-bound journal. I picked it up and realized our search had been rewarded—maybe. “It’s a book of poems, and it looks as if Kathleen wrote them.”
“They could be loaded with clues.”
“You’re exactly right!”
20
Standing in Kathleen’s house was no place to examine our find, so I reluctantly left the kitty alone and we made our way, shrub by shrub, out of the neighborhood. When we were several blocks away from the house, Tinkie called a ride for us. Within twenty minutes we were getting out in front of the B and B.
“We should have stopped for lunch somewhere,” Tinkie said. “I’m starving.”
She’d eaten at least three biscuits for breakfast. I’d had only one and I wasn’t hungry. “That baby must be growing by leaps and bounds. You’re going to have to buy some kind of a sling to support your belly if you keep eating.” I was only half teasing.
“Maybe I do eat a lot, but I still have the trimmest ankles in Mississippi.” She held up one foot to show how dainty her ankles were.
“I am not even going to think about that.” I took her elbow and helped her up the stairs to the front door of the B and B. Before I could reach for the knob, the door flew open. A very startled Darla stopped before she ran both of us down.
“Are you okay?” Tinkie asked her. She had a panicked look on her face, and when she stared at Tinkie, it was as if she didn’t recognize her.
“I have to go.” She tried to brush past us, but I caught her arm. She didn’t look to be in any condition to be running anywhere, especially if she intended to drive.
“Darla!” I jiggled her arm. “Darla!”
At last she registered who I was. “Sarah Booth, let me go. I have to leave.”
“Not until you tell us what’s going on. Maybe I should drive you.”
She shook her head vehemently. “No! No time. Let me go.” She tried to pull free, but I kept my grip.
“Hey, hold on just a minute.” I didn’t really want to stop her, but I was afraid she wasn’t thinking clearly—or thinking at all. She seemed in a terrible panic. “Just tell us what’s going on.”
Tinkie put an arm around her waist and held on. “We’re here to help, remember? But you have to clue us in. And Darla, we can’t let you leave acting so erratically. You could hurt yourself or someone else.”
“I have to go.” She made one more minimal effort to pull free, staring at the driveway where her car was parked.
“Where are you trying to go?” I asked.
“Kathleen. She has a kitty. I forgot about Gumbo. I need to make sure she’s okay and has food.”
I heaved a sigh. “Let’s go inside for a moment. Then Tinkie and I will drive you over to pick up the cat, maybe bring her here.”
“I should do that, but what if some of my guests are allergic to cats?”
“Confine Gumbo to your quarters for the time being. We’ll help you find a more permanent solution if that becomes necessary,” Tinkie said. She gave me a nod to let me know she was still willing to take the kitty, should it be necessary.
“I should get her now.” She started to pull away, and again I just held on.
“We’ll go shortly,” I promised her. “You may need help catching the kitty. For right now, come back inside and let me make some coffee.” I didn’t know exactly what had happened to upset Darla to the point that she was acting a little unhinged, but I knew if we could keep her safe, she’d come around.
Tinkie and I led her back inside and I put on the coffeepot for a quick cup. We sat at the kitchen table and sipped the strong black brew, giving Darla a chance to recover her wits. And it didn’t take her long.
“I am so sorry, ladies. I realize I was out of it when I tried to leave. I’ve just been distraught, and I went back to bed this morning and fell asleep. I had a terrible nightmare. About Kathleen.”
“What was it?” Tinkie asked.
“She was down at the bottom of the river, wearing this white gown with lots of material floating out behind her. Her hair was spread out in the water. And
