Claws for Alarm

by Cate Conte

  “It’s perfectly fine,” I said. “Where is Adele?”

  “She went out to get some baby food for the kittens. She’ll be right back.”

  Good, because she was going to need to take over the café after I broke the news to Mish. “How are you feeling? I was worried.”

  “Yeah. Migraine.” Mish touched her head briefly. “I’m sorry. And the flowers. I should’ve called to thank you. They are beautiful.”

  This was awkward. And it was going to get worse pretty quickly. There was no way I couldn’t tell her, and it appeared the news hadn’t yet traveled.

  “No need to be sorry. I wanted to make sure you were okay, that’s all.” I clasped and unclasped my hands.

  She peered at me. “Are you okay?”

  I sighed. “No, Mish.” I grabbed her arm and pulled her out of earshot of our guest. “What’s the deal with Jillian Allen?”

  Her gaze locked on mine. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you two are related. Did you forget to mention that?”

  She sighed and picked up Charlie, nuzzling her cheek against his fur. “We aren’t related. Stevie is related. There’s a difference.”

  “Well, whatever the difference is, you should’ve mentioned it. Along with the fact that you kind of hate her.”

  “You noticed?”

  “Noticed you yelling at her in the street? Hard to miss. Stevie told me they’re cousins. How come you didn’t tell me?”

  Mish closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. “You caught me off guard when you mentioned she was coming. Honestly, the last place I expected her to pop up was at your café. I didn’t really know what to do. I wanted to ask Stevie if I should mention it. And I guess…” she dropped her gaze. “I didn’t want you to know I was associated with her.”

  “You know this island, Mish. Better than me, actually. I had a break for ten years. It’s hard to hide things. Why would you want to keep it a secret?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  She had no idea. “Is it really that bad? She offered to do a lot for the café—”

  Mish cut me off. “She wants to look like she’s doing a lot for the café. Don’t let her fool you.”

  Stevie had made a similar comment. Something about Mish’s good deed of the week. “So what were you two arguing about the other day?”

  I could see her weighing the none of your business response, but in the end she decided against it. “I was mad that she was trying to weasel her way into the café. Why are you asking so many questions about this, Maddie? I promise I won’t ruin things for you.” Her voice held a touch of sarcasm, and I wasn’t in the mood.

  “Mish. Did you see her today?”

  “No. I haven’t seen her since yesterday. She came by to pick up her packages. And talk to Stevie. I didn’t want to be there so I left. Again, why are you asking?”

  I took a breath, then looked her in the eye. “Jillian’s dead.” I probably should feel bad about blurting it out like that, but I didn’t see the point in beating around the bush.

  She stared at me for a second, then blinked slowly. “What?”

  “She’s dead. Val and I just went to meet her at the venue for the event, and she was dead.” I watched her closely, looking for some sort of sign that this was not a surprise, then immediately felt horrible for the thought. Mish wasn’t a killer.

  Mish sank down onto the floor, releasing Charlie. He hopped down and went to his bed, where he proceeded to clean his tail.

  “Mish.” I sank down on the floor next to her. “This is important. Where’s your car? I didn’t see it outside.”

  She looked up at me, apparently still processing what I was saying. “In the shop. Stevie dropped me off. He had a few things to do this morning and I didn’t want to sit at home.”

  “What time did you get here?”

  “Around ten.”

  She’s lying. The thought flitted through my mind before I even realized it, but it was true. I’d seen Stevie around ten, maybe a little later. But with the traffic around here, there was no way he could’ve dropped her off then made it to the hotel that quickly. Unless my timing was off, but I didn’t think it was.

  I didn’t say any of that. Instead, I rested my head against the wall.

  “Does Stevie know?” she asked finally.

  Good question. Because I was also curious about why he’d been at the hotel. “I don’t know. Do you want me to drive you home?”

  She shook her head slowly. “I’ll call him. What’s going to happen now, Maddie?”

  I sighed. “I have no idea, Mish. Who would have wanted her dead?”

  “My guess? There’s a lot of options,” Mish said.

  Chapter 20

  Mish wanted to be alone while she waited for Stevie. She went outside to sit on the steps. I debated going after her, but figured it was best to let her be. Since we still had a guest, I waited for Adele to show up. Luckily she came back within five minutes.

  “What’s going on? Where’s Mish?” she asked, dropping a bag full of baby food jars on the counter. “A treat for the kittens,” she said, motioning toward the bag.

  “Mish was outside a few minutes ago. She’s leaving early.”

  Adele rolled her eyes. “That girl. Shows up when she feels like it, leaves when she feels like it. I have a schedule for a reason.”

  “Adele,” I interrupted. “She has a good reason today. Jillian is dead.”

  Adele stared at me. “Come again?”

  “Jillian. She’s dead. Val and I found her at the hotel when we went for the meeting. Someone killed her.”

  Adele whistled. “Your fancy friend got herself killed? How about that.”

  Nothing like sympathy for the victim. “Were you here when Mish arrived?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. It was just after ten. I noticed because our ten o’clock appointment was a few minutes late and they showed up at exactly the same time.”

  “Did you see who dropped her off?”

  “No. I was inside.” She cocked her head, observing me curiously. “Why? She kill her or something? I saw them yelling at each other but didn’t realize it was that serious.”

  “No! God, no. Don’t say that, please.” I was mortified that either she’d read my mind or my horrible thoughts weren’t that far-fetched.

  Adele shrugged. “Just asking.”

  “Can you cover the guests?”

  “I was planning to anyway. ’Til people came in messing with my schedule,” she grumbled.

  “Okay. Don’t mention this to anyone yet, please.”

  “Who am I gonna tell? The cats?”

  I left her to it and went into the house. Val was nowhere in sight. Grandpa and my mother were on the couch.

  “I sent Val upstairs to take a shower,” my mother said. “She’s not feeling so great.”

  “I get that,” I said, sitting down opposite them.

  “How are you doing?” My mother focused on me. “Are you okay? Lucas and Ethan are getting some food ready for you.”

  “Fine,” I said.

  “I doubt that.” She squeezed my hand, then leaned back and closed her eyes. “That poor woman,” she said after a moment. “She was so happy yesterday. So excited to plan this event.” She opened her eyes and looked at me. “What will happen with the event?”

  “I have no idea.” It didn’t seem like the best time to be thinking about that, which must have occurred to my mother too because she covered her mouth with her hand as if she could take the words back.

  “That was terribly insensitive. I have no idea what’s wrong with me,” she said, looking mortified.

  “Mom. Don’t worry. You’re shaken up. We all are.” I reached over and patted her hand.

  “Do you think Peyton knows?”

  I wished people would stop asking me questions like I was an expert on this whole thing, or any of these people. I’d just met them all this week, for crying out loud. “I have no idea.”

  Lucas returned with
a glass of water with lemon and a little mini quiche, which he set down on the table in front of me. “Eat,” he said. “You need some fuel. You’ve had a rough morning. Leo, Sophie, would you like one? Ethan made them fresh this morning.”

  My mother declined. Grandpa accepted. He rarely turned food down. Lucas went to fetch their plates and I picked up my fork, taking a tentative bite. My stomach still felt upset, but the food was so good and soothing that I found myself eating like I hadn’t eaten in a week.

  After a few bites, I looked at Grandpa. “Is there something you aren’t telling me?”

  By the look on his face, I could tell I’d caught him completely off guard, which was my intention. A cop who expected something to happen was of no use to me. Grandpa was still good on his feet, but I figured bringing this up out of the blue I’d have some kind of advantage.

  Grandpa returned my stare. “There’s probably plenty of things I’m not telling you, Doll—but maybe you never asked.” He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands over his belly. “Which particular thing are you referring to?”

  “Stevie Warner. Why was he here looking for you the other day? And why didn’t you tell me he’s Jillian’s cousin?”

  “What?” My mother glanced sideways at Grandpa. “That woman is—I mean was—related to Stevie Warner?”

  “Did she tell you that, or did Stevie?” Grandpa asked.

  “I went to Stevie’s yesterday and she was there. He told me. I think he didn’t want me to think he was cheating on Mish or something. Which I was starting to worry about. How come you didn’t tell me?”

  “Because Stevie is my client, and it really wasn’t up to me to share.”

  “What did he hire you for?”

  “Madalyn. You know I can’t discuss my clients’ cases.”

  “Grandpa.” I matched his tone. “You know this is affecting me and the café now. And clearly Val”—I waved my hand in the direction of the stairs—“who’s a mess after what happened today.”

  “Whoa,” Grandpa held up a hand. “Hold your horses. This woman’s death could be totally unrelated. You’re jumping way ahead of yourself.”

  “Unrelated to what?” my mother asked, exasperated. “I have no idea what’s going on here. Can someone please enlighten me?”

  “It’s a property dispute,” Grandpa said.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “The one you mentioned the other day? But you made it sound so boring. And you didn’t mention that Stevie was part of that!”

  He ignored me and turned back to my mother. “Marcella Cox’s two daughters. Diane and Deidre. You remember them, Soph. You went to school with Diane.”

  My mother nodded. “Stevie’s mother.”

  “And Deidre is Jillian’s mother,” Grandpa said.

  “Wow.” My mother sat back. “I’d forgotten all about Deidre. She was older than Diane. She left the island before we graduated, didn’t she? And she hasn’t been out here in probably more than twenty years, from what I remember. Didn’t Marcella disown her or something?”

  “I think they had a falling out and hadn’t spoken in years. Anyway, Marcella died recently and there’s a bit of a … kerfuffle with her estate. She left some instructions that weren’t very popular with her living relatives.”

  “But wouldn’t that be between the daughters?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Aside from her not speaking to one of them, neither of them live out here. Or want to. And Stevie has lived on the property his whole life. So she decided to bypass her daughters.”

  “Jillian doesn’t”—I winced—“didn’t live here either, though. Did she suddenly change her mind?”

  Grandpa said nothing, which I took to mean he was done with this conversation. I couldn’t blame him. He did have a duty to his clients to keep their secrets. It was just frustrating. Or maybe he didn’t actually know. “Grandpa. Did you know who Jillian was when she came here?”

  Grandpa regarded me with that stare that probably took down hundreds of criminals in his day, all the way from petty thieves to murderers. “I knew there was an issue with Stevie’s extended family. I didn’t know it was her until after she came here the first time to meet with you. Mish went to Stevie and told him she was coming here. That prompted his visit to me.”

  “What did he hire you to do, exactly?”

  “Stevie was worried about Jillian undermining the terms of the will. I’m not getting into that part,” he said, holding up a hand when I opened my mouth to interject. “He wanted me to see what she was doing while she was here, who she was speaking to, anything that might give him an indication of how she was going to try to get around the terms of the will. She felt entitled to the property, but he felt more so. He’s lived there forever, as you know. And he’s … dependent on the money they’re bringing in.”

  “Money?”

  Grandpa nodded. “They’re using the house as an Airbnb.”

  So that was why there were so many cars out in front of the big house the other day. I shoved my plate away and leaned back against the couch. “I just told Mish she was dead.”

  “You did?”

  “I did. I couldn’t really pretend like nothing had happened, could I?”

  Grandpa’s lips were pressed tightly together, a sure sign that he disapproved. I didn’t much care at the moment. I really had wanted to see Mish’s reaction, which had been surprised enough, unless she was a good actor, with one caveat.

  She hadn’t asked me how Jillian had died.

  Chapter 21

  I had more questions, but my phone rang. I glanced down at the caller ID. Becky. I closed my eyes briefly. That meant one thing—the news was out and my involvement had leaked.

  Resigned, I pressed the green button to accept her call. “Hey.”

  “What is going on?” she shrieked in my ear.

  I held the phone away, cringing, until I was sure she was done. “With?” I asked wearily.

  “Um. Are you serious? With the woman who was murdered today at the Paradise!”

  “Yeah. That.”

  “Yeah. That,” Becky repeated. “My reporter got your name from the log as the person who gave a statement?”

  “Yep. Val and I were there to meet with her.”

  “You’re kidding. So this was…” I heard her flipping pages in a notebook. “The rescue league person?”

  “Yes.”

  “The one who was coming to see your café, right?”

  “The very same.”

  “So what happened?”

  “No idea,” I said, remembering Ellory’s words about the leash. Not for public consumption. I wondered when the press conference would be held. Her identity must be out, if Becky knew. Although she did have a good relationship with the cops, and they might have told her on the condition she didn’t print it until they gave the go-ahead.

  “This is crazy. So I also got an anonymous tip that she’s related to Stevie Warner. And there’s some kind of family dispute over property.”

  I hadn’t expected that news to break so quickly, although I guessed it must be common enough knowledge for people who’ve lived here forever. That was the thing about an island like this, and one of the reasons I’d left in the first place. Everyone knew everything about everyone. And didn’t hesitate to tell anyone who may have missed it. But an anonymous tip? Seemed so … clandestine. “Really,” I said. “Any idea who the tipster was?”

  “Nope. But that’s what anonymous means, right?” A pause. “Sounds like you knew they were related?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “How?”

  “Stevie told me. She was at his house when I went there yesterday.”

  “So what do you know about the situation?”

  “Not much. Just that they didn’t seem to get along. I was more focused on what she wanted to do for the café. That’s why I was there today when … she was found. We were there to look at the venue.”

  I could hear Becky scribbling furiously. “You know I need to
put this in the story, right? That you guys were working together?”

  “I figured.”

  “It’s more press for the café,” Becky pointed out.

  “Am I supposed to feel good about that?”

  “I don’t know. Any press is good press, right?” Becky sighed. “I’m sorry, Maddie. I hate that you’re involved in this.”

  “Me too.”

  “But since you are, can I send my reporter over to get the deets on the event and how you all were working together?”

  “Today? Beck—”

  “I know, it’s a crazy day, but yes. I need to print the longer version of this story tomorrow. I’m holding on her name right now until they notify next of kin, but then it will be online. This is going to be big news once it gets out that Peyton Chandler was involved in this fundraiser.”

  I frowned. “How do you know Peyton Chandler was involved?”

  “The hotel people.”

  I thought of the purple-haired woman at the front desk this morning, so disappointed that Peyton wasn’t coming to the walk-through. “Send the reporter,” I said with a sigh. “I’ll do it.”

  “Great. It’s Jenna. You remember her, right?”

  “How could I forget.” Jenna had written about a huge murder and scandal that had happened right after I’d gotten back to Daybreak, in which I’d had the misfortune of becoming involved. It was the sort of thing that stuck with a person.

  My other line beeped. I glanced at the caller ID. I didn’t recognize it. My finger hovered over the decline button, but at the last minute I decided to answer. “I have to run. I’ll see Jenna later.” I clicked over. “Maddie James.”

  “Maddie, hello.” I didn’t recognize the subdued female voice on the other end. “This is Jo Sabatini. With the Shoreline Animal Rescue League?”

  Oh jeez. I’d completely forgotten about Jillian’s staff. “Jo, yes, hello. I’m so sorry about Jillian. I can’t even imagine what you and your team must be feeling.” As I said it, it suddenly struck me that I hadn’t seen Jo anywhere this morning. I’d assumed she was coming to the meeting too, and that perhaps she and Jillian would have met beforehand.