Anita’s eyes widened. “No! I was following her to get a scoop on her talking to the ghost. But I lost her. I wandered around looking for her and then I stumbled upon that.” She gestured toward the body.
Millie looked skeptical. “Did you see anyone else? Like the killer leaving the scene, perhaps?”
Anita’s eyes darted around the area as if looking for the culprit. “No. It’s so overgrown here, who could see anything? Besides, it’s clear who the killer is.”
“Is it?” Mom asked.
“Yes.” Anita sniffled and let out a shaky breath before glancing around furtively and leaning toward us. “The ghost.”
Was it my imagination or was Anita acting just a little too scared? It didn’t escape me that the body and note would make a sensational story. And she was the only one here. Would someone else have had enough time to kill Madame Zenda, leave a note in her blood (if it was, indeed, in her blood) and an old buckle and scurry off before Anita discovered her? Had it really been Anita who screamed upon discovering the body or was it Madame Zenda’s scream we’d heard as Anita was stabbing her? Anita was wearing a pink jacket and a white shirt underneath. Not a drop of blood was on her. Could she have changed clothes? She could have hidden another outfit anywhere in this messy overgrowth.
“I hardly think a ghost did this,” Millie scoffed. “Where would he get the murder weapon? Or a buckle? Can ghosts write notes?”
“I’ve heard of ghosts doing lots of things.” Anita gestured to the note. “And look at the note. It says to ‘leave me alone’. All these psychics were bothering Jed. And what about that old buckle? It looks to be from his era. You ask me, that’s a sign that it was him.”
The buckle did look old, but I’d seen some very convincing replicas. A closer look would be nice, but I knew better than to disturb anything at a crime scene. Luckily, so did Mom and Millie. Despite Sheriff Chamberlain’s crush on Millie, I didn’t think he’d look too kindly on that.
A rustle in the bushes announced a new arrival.
“I called the police, they should be here any minute.” Victor Merino appeared, giving the body only a cursory glance.
“How did you know the police would be needed here?” Millie asked. Clearly she was suspicious, and with good reason. Victor had hardly seemed surprised that Madame Zenda was dead. Was that because he already knew? He wouldn’t be the first killer that doubled back to the scene of the crime.
“I heard the scream.” Victor’s eyes darted to the body again. I saw a flicker of something. Fear? Guilt? “I figured it couldn’t be good, but I wouldn’t have thought it was this. What happened?”
He was going to have to come up with something better than that to convince me. So someone screamed, so what? It could have been that someone saw a snake or a rat. How did he know the reason for the scream involved something that the police would be needed for?
More rustling in the bushes and Esther appeared. Unlike Victor, she was visibly shaken. Her hands flew to her face. “Oh my, how dreadful!”
Then she stepped a little closer, curiosity apparently overtaking her horror. “Is that a note?”
“Yes, the ghost left it,” Anita said. She must have recovered from her grisly discovery because she’d whipped out her notebook and was taking notes.
“Poor Betty Sue,” Esther said.
“Betty Sue?” I asked as everyone turned inquisitive eyes on her.
Esther nodded. “Oh yes, that was Madame Zenda’s name before she changed it. Betty Sue Lipowitz. Did none of you know this?”
“No.” How would we have known that? But the fact that Esther knew indicated a past relationship. They must not have been close friends though, because Esther didn’t seem overly upset about her death. Millie zoned right in on that. “Did you know her well?”
Esther looked thoughtful. Was she reminiscing, or deciding how to cover up the nature of their relationship? Now that I thought about it, they hadn’t seemed friendly at all, in fact they had seemed slightly adversarial. Then again, all the guests had seemed that way toward each other. I hadn’t thought much about it as it seemed natural to have some professional rivalry in their business.
“Well, we weren’t besties or anything but we’ve both been mediums for decades and have crossed paths before.”
“Do you know why anyone would want to kill her?” Mom asked. By the tilt of her head and narrowing of her eyes, I could tell she had Esther at the top of her suspect list.
“Oh dear me, of course not. Such a shame. And what is with this note? Sounds ominous.” Esther looked around, as if expecting Jed’s ghost to appear from thin air.
“Yeah what is with the note?” Of all people, Myron had shown up. Now why in the world was he here? I thought about Mom and Millie’s insistence that he had a crush on me, hopefully he wasn’t stalking me or something.
He peered over at the body, his face turning visibly white. He looked as if he was going to throw up. “That looks like a warning.” He turned his scowling gaze on me and visions of my loan drying up ran through my head. Dread curled in my stomach. Were Myron’s concerns valid? I knew he was worried that rumors of murdering ghosts would affect bookings.
The sound of sirens split the air and Mom and Millie sprang into action, securing the crime scene as if they’d been deputized.
Millie moved everyone back from the body and Mom stood in front of them as if to provide a barrier. By the time Sheriff Seth Chamberlain and his deputies arrived on the scene things appeared quite orderly.
Seth glanced at the body, then at Mom and Millie, his gaze taking in their all-black outfits. He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, then addressed Mom and Millie. “Okay, tell me what’s going on? Who discovered the body and how did you all get on the scene? And what is with those outfits?”
Millie filled him in on what had transpired, glossing over the reason for their outfits and simply saying that they just happened to be both wearing all black today because it was supposed to be slimming.
“And see, right there is proof this was Jedediah’s ghost.” Anita snapped a picture of the note on the body with her cell phone.
“No pictures of the crime scene, please.” Seth frowned at Anita. “And just what are you doing here anyway? You’re not a guest at the hotel.”
Anita shoved her phone back into her bag, making a show of rooting around. Was she avoiding eye contact with Seth? “I… uh… heard through the grapevine that Madame Zenda was going to contact Jedediah Biddeford’s ghost. That’s big news.”
Through the grapevine? More like through my open window. But was that really the reason Anita was here? I could tell by the skeptical look on Seth Chamberlain’s face he might be wondering the same thing. Did Anita and Madame Zenda have some sort of arrangement and if so, was Madame’s death a benefit or a hindrance to Anita?
Seth glanced back at the body. “You don’t really think a ghost did this, do you?”
“Well, sure, who else would do it?” Anita asked.
Good question. I looked at the group of people—Anita, Victor, Esther. Apparently, the scream had brought them out from the guesthouse just like it had brought Mom, Millie and me, but was one of them the killer? And why hadn’t it summoned Gail? I would’ve been able to contemplate that more deeply if Myron wasn’t standing beside me, wringing his hands and nattering on about having a bad feeling about this.
He leaned over and whispered in my ear. “This is not good for the guesthouse, you mark my words.”
“Myron, what are you even doing here at this time of night?” I asked.
“I bet he came to ask you to dinner,” Mom whispered.
Myron straightened, his cheeks flaming as if he’d overheard my mother and was embarrassed. “I came to check up on my investment. I heard Madame Zenda talking about her supposed meeting this evening and figured I’d better stop by and see for myself exactly what kinds of shenanigans were going on here. Guess it was a good thing I did.” He let his gaze rest on Anita. “My suggestion i
s that you may want to get rid of those psychics right away. Bad publicity travels fast.”
I wondered if that really was the reason, or if he had been about to ask me to dinner. Good thing none of us had an appetite anymore—hopefully the dead body would keep him from asking me out. Luckily, he didn’t have a chance to because apparently something else traveled fast too—Myron’s voice.
Seth snapped his head around and looked at Myron. “Get rid of them? I don’t think so. Everyone here needs to be questioned.” Seth waved his hand to indicate all the people who had gathered. “These folks are potential suspects. No one is allowed to leave town.”
Nero stared at the body. The coppery smell of the blood made his whiskers twitch uncomfortably. He glanced sideways at Jed. “I thought you said you didn’t talk to any of them.”
Jed spread his hands out. “I didn’t, I swear.”
“Anita Pendragon seems pretty sure you’re the killer,” Marlowe said to Jed. The way that Jed was swirling and bobbing made it obvious that he was agitated. “Nah. Wasn’t me. I can barely push a small item off a table. How could I stab someone? And why would I?”
Nero studied the ghost. He seemed sincere, but then again, ghosts could be wily. And Jed had disappeared abruptly during their previous conversation. Nero hadn’t seen him since. He could have snuck out and murdered Madame Zenda and his claim that he could only push small objects could be a lie. Had he made a big show of it earlier just because he wanted an excuse as to why he couldn’t be the killer? But why would he care about appearing innocent in front of the cats? He was beyond any punishment from the humans.
“What about the curse?” Marlowe asked. “Maybe you wanted to prove the curse was real.”
“That was just hot air to keep people away. Besides, the curse was about someone messing with my treasure and I know the treasure wasn’t here in the cemetery.” Jed swirled over to inspect the body. It was obvious that none of the humans could see him. He passed by Victor and right in front of Esther. Anita shivered when he went right through her, but the others seemed oblivious. Of course, Nero couldn’t tell if Madame Zenda could have seen him. She was beyond that. Maybe her ghost would pop up and enlighten them.
Jed’s ghost bent down to inspect the note, then he hovered over the buckle. “No way I could do all this. I don’t even write like that. That buckle does look familiar though. I think I might have had one like that on my going-to-church shoes.”
“You mean that exact buckle or just one that looks like it?” Nero asked. Probably a replica. Because how would Jed’s actual shoe buckle get on the body? Had someone been in the attic where Jed said his things were? Ed had mentioned he thought that he had heard someone up there, but as far as Nero knew the door was locked. Nero mentally added exploring the attic as the first item on his agenda for this investigation. It would be easy for him to get into the attic through the small crack in a door that led from one of the old servants’ rooms on that floor.
Naturally, the cats would be doing a thorough investigation. Nero felt it was his duty to protect the guesthouse and Josie. As cat caretaker of the Oyster Cove Guesthouse, the responsibility to keep it running weighed heavy. Three murders in a row could be a major deterrent to guests.
“Why would someone want to kill Madame Zenda and leave this note if it wasn’t you?” Marlowe looked up at Jed with intelligent, calculating eyes. Good, the young cat was also thinking along the lines of investigating and shared Nero’s suspicions of the ghost.
“Beats me. Looks like someone wants them to think it was me. But why would I kill her? I don’t stand to gain anything,” Jed said.
Marlowe glanced at Nero and Nero nodded sagely as if he had some inner wisdom that validated Jed’s words. He didn’t but, since he was the mentor and Marlowe the mentee, he liked to put forth the appropriate impression of being wise.
“We’ll investigate all options. But one thing is for sure. If it wasn’t Jed, then we may have someone very dangerous on our hands.” Nero glanced over at the body, where the police were busy photographing and cataloging, and made a mental note to be very careful around Jed. The ghost seemed sincere in his insistence that he wasn’t the killer, but one could never be too careful. “Because whoever did this, definitely has a motive powerful enough to kill for.”
Eight
“Maybe Madame Zenda was a little bit psychic after all,” Millie said as we sat in the kitchen waiting for the police to finish with the crime scene.
“Why do you say that?” I asked.
“Well, she predicted a death in her tarot reading. Too bad it was her own death.” Millie rummaged in the fridge, coming up with an apple, left over from the sausages, which she proceeded to crunch into.
“I don’t buy that,” Mom said. “If she was any good, she would have been able to see her own death and therefore avoid it.”
Millie chewed the apple and glanced out the window. “Funny how Anita was already there when we got there.”
“And how Esther, Myron and Victor showed up so soon after,” Mom added.
“I guess the screams brought Esther and Victor to the scene, just like us,” I said. “But I wonder why Gail didn’t come running out.”
Mom’s brows shot up. “Maybe because she already knew what was out there.”
Millie shook her head. “No, I think the most suspicious ones are Anita and Victor. And just what was Myron doing here, anyway?”
I filled them in on Myron’s worries about all the ghost talk. “I think he’s having second thoughts about investing in the guesthouse.” I fiddled nervously with the silver salt-and-pepper shakers on the table.
“Don’t worry about Myron, Josie.” Millie patted me on the shoulder as if reading my mind. “He’s all bark and no bite.”
Mom nodded. “And besides, he has a crush on you. He’s not gonna take the loan away.”
“I know what will take your mind off of it.” Millie rummaged in the cabinets. “We’ll fix some nice lemon muffins for tomorrow’s breakfast. They’ll go fabulously with the sausage. What else are you going to make?”
I shrugged. I’d gotten so used to Millie coming over and helping I wasn’t quite used to planning the breakfast. “Maybe some scrambled eggs? I’ll heat up the sausage to go with it and then a fruit bowl.”
“That sounds perfect. The muffins will round it out.” Millie opened the fridge and gathered a lemon, eggs, milk and butter and placed them on the counter.
“So, we have another dead body and a slew of suspects. But I wonder… you don’t think Jed’s ghost really did kill Madame Zenda, do you?” Mom stood over at the bookshelf running her finger along the spines of the cookbooks. She stopped at the one that had fallen out onto the floor earlier.
Millie waved her hand. “Course not. There’s no such thing as ghosts, right, Josie?”
“Right.” I pulled out the new silicone muffin liners that Millie had suggested I splurge on and started lining them up on a pan. It would be convenient to think maybe Jed’s ghost did kill Madame Zenda, but I didn’t believe in ghosts. Someone more earthly had committed the murder and written that note. “But why leave the note and the buckle?”
“It certainly was dramatic,” Mom said.
“Overly dramatic, but I suppose that was on purpose.” Millie measured out the flour carefully.
“You mean someone is making it look like a bigger story than it is?” Mom said.
My thoughts raced to Anita Pendragon. Clearly Madame Zenda had known she was lurking around outside and wanted her to overhear the announcement about her meeting with Jed, but why was Anita lurking here in the first place? Had Madame Zenda tipped her off or had she just known psychics would be at the guesthouse and thought she could dig up a good story? What lengths would Anita go to to turn a good story into a great story? One can’t be too hasty when trying to figure out a motive for murder though, and sprucing up a story so that it gets a lot of media attention wasn’t the only reason I could think of to kill.
“The kille
r could also be trying to muddy the waters and use misdirection to distract us with the note and buckle, when the real reason for the murder is that it is about a past experience with Madame Zenda,” I said.
“You mean like revenge or blackmail?” Mom’s eyes lit up. “Esther did seem to know Madame Zenda from before. She must’ve been close to her in the past if she knew her real name was Betty Sue.”
Millie turned to face us as she licked some batter off a spoon. “One of the last things Madame Zenda did was to make it very clear that she was going to talk to Jed’s ghost. Seems logical to me that either someone didn’t want her to talk to the ghost because he might tell her where the treasure is and she might get it first, or they didn’t want her to get the fame that might come from an article. Unless the murderer is trying to make us think that is the motive, as Josie suggested.”
“We can’t rule out Anita Pendragon. She knew Madame Zenda was going to talk to the ghost and, according to her, she was skulking around trying to witness their communication. Maybe she figured out Madame Zenda was a fake and killed her to make the article more interesting,” Mom said.
I was skeptical. “Would someone really kill over a newspaper article? I mean, it doesn’t seem like that would be worth much. Too much risk for too little reward.”
“But let’s not forget, we must investigate all angles,” Millie said. “Seems like there are quite a few motives for Madame Zenda’s murder.”
“Did you notice the murder weapon?” Mom avoided eye contact.
“Yes. My letter opener. But I keep that at the front desk and anyone could have taken it. The guests would have access and the front door is open during the day, so anyone could have come in and nabbed it,” I said.
“Even Anita Pendragon,” Millie added.
“Ed did say he thought she might have snuck in here,” I said.
“Hmm, when did you last see it?” Mom asked.
I tried to remember the last time I’d seen the letter opener. I was sure it had been in the house last week but that didn’t help. “I have no idea, with everything being electronic these days, I don’t get much mail.”
A Purrfect Alibi: A pawsitively gripping cozy mystery (The Oyster Cove Guesthouse Book 3) Page 5