Esther shook her head. “No. Small, pink and wrinkly.”
Flora made a disgusted face and waved her hand. “Oh, that’s Harold Ditmeyer. I already dated him last month.”
Esther looked at her funny. “I wasn’t talking about a man. I was talking about a baby. You’re going to have another great-grandchild.”
Flora looked disappointed. “Oh darn. I already have dozens of those. I was hoping to get a good reading like Josie got.”
Esther nodded. “Sorry. I can only convey what the ball shows me.”
“Sure.” Victor had been leaning against the mantle. Probably so he could look down his nose at all of us, which he was doing now to Esther. “Like that crystal ball shows you anything.”
Esther glared at him, her normally kind eyes turning hard. I thought she was going to really lay into him, but she simply took a deep breath and said in an even voice, “Victor, you’re not the only one who has gifts.”
“Yeah,” Madame Zenda said. “You have no respect for anyone.”
“That’s right.” Gail stood, still cradling the mug. “Why, I have a good mind to—”
“Oh look, someone’s here!” Millie pointed out the window. Even though I knew she was doing it as a distraction to keep the guests from descending into another argument, I rushed to the window remembering the flash of pink I thought I’d seen earlier.
It wasn’t a person she had seen though. It was a car. My spirits sank when I saw whose car it was. Myron Remington.
“Is that the tall, dark and handsome man I saw in the crystal ball?” Esther asked.
“I should say not,” I replied. Myron was neither tall, dark, nor handsome. He was short, stout and annoying. Ever since he’d offered to give me a low-interest loan for some badly needed repairs he’d been acting as if the guesthouse was his pet project and stopping by periodically to check on his little investment. I guess he had a fondness for the place. Myron’s family went back as far as the Biddefords and his ancestors had even worked for Jed. That’s why he wanted to make sure I had the funds to restore the guesthouse to its previous glory. He claimed he was proud of his family’s modest roots in the community and wanted to show that he took pride in that by loaning the money to restore one of the oldest properties in town.
Mom and Millie insisted it was because Myron had a crush on me. Either way, I had to play nice with him because I’d already invested the very last penny I had in pre-ordering all the lumber and supplies so I could get a bulk discount. I needed to stay on Myron’s good side—that loan was critical to my success.
I glanced up at Mom and Millie who had smirks on their faces. I narrowed my eyes at them to discourage any chatter about a romance between Myron and myself and headed to the front door. As I left the room, I looked back toward Madame Zenda. She was seated at the table, looking over the cards she’d laid out earlier. A breeze gusted in from the window, sending the cards scattering and my thoughts drifting to the death card. I didn’t particularly care for Victor, but I had to admit that I hoped he was right in thinking Madame Zenda’s reading was off. Because if the death card didn’t represent the deaths that had already happened, then what did it represent?
Two
The front door to the guesthouse was unlocked during the day. It was mostly so guests could come and go, but I figured if a wayward tourist wandered in and booked a room, all the better. Myron had let himself in and was already standing in the foyer when I got there. He was wearing a designer suit and silk tie as usual. His face brightened when he saw me and I squelched the urge to make a face. I wouldn’t go as far as to go out on a date with him or anything, but remaining friendly seemed the best course for the continued flow of finances.
“How nice to see you, Myron. What brings you here today?” I asked.
Myron adjusted the cuffs of his jacket. “I was just coming to check on my little project. Need to keep the investments of the bank in mind, you know.”
“Of course.” I started down the hallway toward the west wing where the current renovations were taking place. Myron followed. I could hear his shoes squeak to a stop at the doorway to the parlor and I turned to see him peering in, a frown on his face.
I backtracked to see what had him frowning. I suppose the scene was a little odd. Mom and Millie were clustered around Esther who was waving over the crystal ball again. Victor had gone back to meditating, this time in the middle of the room. Madame Zenda was practicing some kind of fancy shuffling maneuver, her bracelets clanging and sleeves flowing. Gail had laid down on the sofa and appeared to be napping. Nero and Marlowe trotted over and started sniffing Myron’s shoes.
“What is going on here? What kind of guests are you entertaining?” Myron asked.
“They’re psychics,” Flora said. She was standing next to the grand staircase dusting the shade of a Tiffany stained-glass lamp that sat on a small table.
“Psychics?” Myron pursed his lips as if to indicate he took a dim view of psychics. “Is there some kind of convention?”
“Nope. They’re trying to talk to Jedediah Biddeford. Gonna dig up the treasure.” Flora kept her focus on the shade even though she was talking to Myron.
“You don’t say.” Myron glanced at me. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”
I didn’t, but I didn’t want to say that in front of the guests who were now all looking at us. “You never know.”
“I thought it was determined that there was no treasure,” Myron said.
“Correction.” Victor had been roused from his meditation and was now standing in the doorway. “No treasure was ever found. I aim to find it as well as uncover who really killed Jedediah Biddeford.”
Myron looked skeptical. “The police couldn’t even figure that one out, but good luck to you.”
“You’ll see.”
Victor sounded as if he was getting ready for an argument, so I gave Myron’s arm a little tug. I hope he didn’t get the wrong idea.
“I think you’ll be happy with the progress on the renovations.” I gestured for Myron to precede me down the hall. Thankfully he took the hint and started walking. “I hope so.” He whipped out a small notepad and a lovely bone-colored pen with carvings all around it. Was he going to write me up if my renovations weren’t up to snuff?
I led Myron down the hallway to the west wing. That’s where I was doing most of the renovations. It had once been a sumptuous ballroom, but since the days of balls were long over I was turning it into a game room.
Ed O’Hara, the elderly carpenter I’d hired to do the renovations, was skim-coating the joints on the sheet rock covering the wall inside of which we’d discovered Jedediah Biddeford’s skeleton.
“Great, I see there’s no evidence of what happened here before.” Myron crouched down, his face inches from the wall and then put the paper and pen down on the floor so he could run his fingers along the joint. “That’s good, no sense in scaring future guests off by making it obvious that there was a skeleton in the wall.”
Even before he’d lent me the money, Myron had been a bit disturbed that we’d uncovered the skeleton. But now that I’d taken out the loan, he seemed to be getting kind of bossy about the whole thing. I get that he had an interest in the cash flow of the Oyster Cove Guesthouse and my ability to make payments, but I didn’t want him telling me what to do with my business. Then again, maybe his constant trips over to check up on progress really were about his having a crush on me. I shuddered to think of it. Myron definitely was not my type. Ed met my gaze over Myron’s head and rolled his eyes. I liked Ed, and even though he’d been spending a lot of time in my kitchen eating when he should be working, he was still worth the money I paid. I also felt a little guilty that he’d been one of my suspects during the most recent murder and I was trying to make up for that by giving him extra baked goods. Those that were edible, I mean. I could tell that Ed saw right through Myron but knew enough to be patient and play along with his twenty questions.
“I got it all patched up
now like nothing ever happened,” Ed said. “In fact, I have an appointment with the building inspector in five minutes to inspect it and make sure we can move on to the next stage.”
Oh, no… Mike was coming too? The day was really going downhill and it wasn’t even noon yet.
“Well, hello, Sunshine.” Mike Sullivan appeared in the doorway, smiling at me. Speak of the devil. I returned the smile. It wouldn’t do to be inhospitable to the building inspector, and besides, Mike was kind of easy to smile at with his tall, broad frame and whiskey-hazel eyes.
Though I had to admit, it did irritate me when he called me Sunshine. That was a nickname he and my brother had given to me when I was younger and it wasn’t as complimentary as it sounds. However, since I’d moved back to town, I’d learned to just ignore him when he used the nickname because whenever I got riled up about it, it caused him to use it even more.
“I’m here to inspect the wall. Myron, what brings you here?” His eyes flicked between me and Myron as if he thought I’d invited him. Mike was probably wondering why Myron was crouched on the floor.
“Just checking up on my investment.” Myron stood and made a show of brushing off his slacks. “Now, Josie, I don’t know about these psychics and all this talk about speaking to Jedediah’s ghost. Maybe it’s not a good idea to encourage that sort of thing. Rumors could get out about the guesthouse being haunted and that might affect bookings.”
“You mean it might affect her ability to repay your loan,” Ed said bluntly.
“I’m only thinking of Josie’s best interests,” Myron said.
“I didn’t have anyone else booking the rooms and I figured there was no harm in it. Maybe they actually will dig up the treasure and solve the mystery.” Did these guys think I needed them to look out for me? I could take care of myself and decide who to book as a guest in my own guesthouse.
“Treasure? Mystery?” Mike asked. “Is that why Anita Pendragon is lurking around outside?”
My eyes jerked to the window. Is that who I’d seen fluttering around out there? Anita was a reporter who worked for the Oyster Cove Gazette. She was always looking for the “big scoop” that would make her famous. I’m sure it was no secret that I had a guesthouse full of mediums who wanted to talk to Jed’s ghost. Maybe she’d smelled her big break and was spying on us to see what was going on.
“She was outside?” I asked.
“Yeah, I caught her taking pictures through the window.” Ed nodded toward the big window on the east side. “I shut the shade. Wouldn’t be surprised if she snuck in here though. I heard someone up on the third flooring where those old servants’ rooms are near the attic, but when I went up to look no one was there.”
Thunk!
A hammer landed on the floor beside Ed’s toolbox. Ed picked it up. “Huh, that’s weird. Guess I didn’t set that squarely down on the box. Good thing we don’t have those oak floors in yet, might have made a mark. I’ll be more careful in the future.”
Myron was peering out the window, hands cupped over his eyes, looking for Anita presumably. “If Pendragon gets word about this kooky plan to find the Biddeford treasure, she’ll blab it all over. You have to do something about this, Josie.”
“What do you want me to do? Kick them out? Have Anita arrested for trespassing?” I know I said I was trying to play nice with Myron, but I just didn’t like the idea of anyone telling me what to do. “They’ll only be here for a few more days. I’m sure it’s all harmless. You don’t really believe Jed’s ghost is hanging around here waiting to talk to them after all this time, do you?”
Myron moved back from the window. I guess Anita wasn’t out there after all. “I suppose not.”
“Of course not. Hopefully they’ll just try to communicate with him for a few days and then get bored and leave when he doesn’t show up. No harm done,” I said, ushering Myron toward the door. He could be a bit of a fussbudget and I didn’t need him messing around with any of my bookings. I wasn’t about to kick out paying customers, especially now that I really needed the money.
Mike and Ed started the inspection of the repairs Ed had done to date and I walked Myron back down the long hallway. The front door stood open, giving a nice view of the birch trees on the side of the driveway. We were almost at the front door when a loud clapping sounded from the parlor.
Myron pulled up short and looked in. Madame Zenda was standing next to the window, which had been pushed open even further. Was it stuffy in the guesthouse? I didn’t think so— even though it was late summer—we did have air conditioning. And right now, most of it was going out the window. I made a mental note to tell the guests to keep the windows shut.
Madame Zenda clapped her hands again, pulling my attention from the window.
“People! People!” she yelled, leaning toward the window. “I have exciting news! Jedediah Biddeford has contacted me from beyond and he says he’ll be giving me the answers to everything we seek tonight when the moon kisses the ocean.”
The others murmured and looked at her skeptically. I could feel the disapproval radiating from Myron.
Madame Zenda continued, “After tonight, not only will I know where the treasure is, but also what happened to him three hundred years ago!”
Three
“When the moon kisses the ocean? What’s that supposed to mean?” Marlowe asked half an hour later when she and Nero were catnapping in the conservatory. The conservatory had yet to be fully renovated, other than some replacement windows that Ed had put in as a surprise for Josie. That’s why the cats liked it so much. No one ever went in there and there was always a pool of sun to lie in. The hand-carved trim that Ed had added around the windows as a surprise for Josie didn’t hurt the ambiance any either. They could see Oyster Cove from an east-facing window and Nero enjoyed watching the lobster boats hauling in their catch, the waves crashing against the jagged rocks and the seagulls circling above. He didn’t particularly like seagulls though, because they often dive-bombed the cats, but they were fine to watch from afar. He was glad to see the population was making a resurgence after an incident a few months ago that had caused a number of gull deaths.
Marlowe trotted over to one of the large potted plants Millie had brought over a few weeks ago and raked her claws through the dirt, then looked back at Nero for an answer to her question.
Nero sighed. “I’ve noticed these guests tend to be overly dramatic. I assume it was just a fancy way of saying when the moon comes up over the ocean.”
They both glanced toward the window. The moon rose up in the east just around dusk. At this time of year, it was a glowing disk that loomed over the ocean highlighting the crests of the waves. It would be a full moon tonight. Nero wondered if Madame Zenda had chosen today to make her announcement because of that.
“They are a strange bunch,” Marlowe continued. “I liked the last batch better. At least they had some cheese morsels in their rooms we could steal.”
“These guests are sneaky, too. Though I do like Esther. She has no problem slipping us some treats under the table.”
Marlowe, who had been examining the dirt inside the pot, glanced over at Nero. “Well, I wouldn’t consider that any bonus. Some of Josie’s breakfasts leave a bit to be desired.”
“Yeah, but she can’t screw up bacon.”
“True. So, what do you make of Madame Zenda’s proclamation? I noticed she made sure to be near the window.” Marlowe finished her inspection of the plant and trotted over to the pool of sun.
“You mean the window she’d opened wider and let all the lovely cool air out of?” Nero plopped down beside her and started preening the white fur of his tuxedo. “I bet she was making sure that Anita Pendragon overheard her.”
“That reporter that’s been lurking around? Yeah, I could see her over in those gigantic overgrown rhododendrons and she looked pretty excited. I guess she doesn’t realize that Madame Zenda was lying.”
Both cats had a keen sense of the spirit world and they had sniffed the
house thoroughly for signs of Jed’s ghost when the skeleton had been discovered. There were no static disturbances, no other-worldly smells, no hint of ectoplasmic moisture. If Jed’s ghost was still on the earthly plane, he wasn’t hanging around in the Oyster Cove Guesthouse. Then again, Nero had noticed that items seemed to be falling to the floor at odd times recently and his hair had even stood on end inexplicably. But if a ghost were in the house, surely it would have made its presence known to them?
“Too bad she’s going to end up being disappointed. As you know, there are no ghosts here for the humans to talk to. Had Jedediah’s ghost been haunting this house we certainly would’ve heard from him by now.”
“Boo!”
Nero nearly jumped out of his fur. He whirled around, back humped, fur standing on end.
A ghostly apparition floated next to the wall.
“Talk about being careful what you wish for.” Marlowe seemed to take the specter all in her stride, calmly licking her front paw and rubbing it behind her ear.
“Jed?” Nero asked. In fact, he didn’t really have to ask because he recognized the clothing from the skeleton they’d pulled out of the wall.
“One and the same,” the ghost replied.
“So you really are here,” Marlowe said. “I guess Madame Zenda wasn’t lying.”
“No. She was,” Jed said. “I haven’t talked to any of these kooks you have running around in here. She’s making it up.”
“Why would she do that?” Marlowe asked.
“Beats me.” Jed swirled over to the window. “Nice view. I guess this room was added on after my time.”
“There’s been a lot of changes since then.” Nero knew that the mansion had been much smaller in Jed’s time. Over the years it had been expanded by his own descendants, as well as Millie’s ancestors who had bought the house over a hundred years ago.
Jed nodded. “But it’s not in very good shape.” He looked kind of sad about that.
A Purrfect Alibi: A pawsitively gripping cozy mystery (The Oyster Cove Guesthouse Book 3) Page 2