‘Ava Grantham said she saw Tina in his room,’ Millie pointed out.
‘But Tina was there because she was stealing the cookbook. Charles wasn’t even at the guesthouse then, because she’d seen him on the cliff.’ I picked a piece of bacon out of the pile and crunched.
‘He could have gotten the letter earlier, maybe he confronted the person and they tore it up and Charles took part of it back with him.’
‘But the killer had to have been in the guesthouse at some point, either the night they killed Charles or when they sabotaged the room. And no one saw anyone who wasn’t supposed to be here,’ Millie said. ‘With Josie, Flora and Mike around I would think someone would have seen something.’
‘Charles was killed in the middle of the night, everyone was asleep.’ Mom snagged a piece of bacon and broke off two tiny morsels, then tossed one to Marlowe and one to Nero.
‘Not too much of that, Rose,’ Millie admonished. ‘That’s not good for them. I hope you aren’t going to get in the habit of feeding junk to the cats like your mother does, Josie.’
‘Huh?’ I hadn’t been paying attention because my brain was still processing the fact that no one had seen anyone in the guesthouse who wasn’t supposed to be there. ‘What if none of us saw an intruder in the guesthouse because the killer was one of the guests?’
‘Who?’
I glanced around to make sure none of the guests were hovering in the hallway. Especially not the guests that were now on my suspect list. The hall was empty.
‘The Weatherbys,’ I whispered. ‘They are very interested in the gulls and Flora found straw and feathers in their room. Tina said she saw them up on the cliffs near the nests!’
‘Well of course she did.’ Millie looked at me as if I was batty. ‘They are bird watchers. I mean surely you’ve seen them with all their cameras and binoculars.’
‘Oh, I’ve seen them all right. But the other day, Mike asked Ron some questions about his camera and Mike said that the answers seemed to indicate that Ron didn’t know much about the camera. Now wouldn’t he be somewhat of an expert if he was a bird watcher?’ I asked.
Mom pressed her lips together. ‘Maybe. But you know us older folks aren’t that good with technology. I had to ask your brother to help me with my new smartphone.’
Millie nodded. ‘She’s right. And they hardly seem like the type to bludgeon someone and try to make it look like he fell down the stairs.’
‘Right, someone would have to have carpentry skills for that,’ Mom added.
‘Either that or maybe they thought an elderly small-town sheriff wouldn’t be able to figure out the scene was tampered with. I remember Ron made a comment about small-town police forces not doing a thorough job. Maybe he was banking on that,’ I said.
Millie and Mom’s brows drew sharply together.
‘Did you say elderly? Seth is our age,’ Mom said.
‘Err… I meant senior.’
‘Right, well anyway,’ Millie picked up the serving bowls. ‘It’s time to serve the breakfast. Meanwhile we need to figure out exactly what the Weatherbys have been up to.’
‘How do we do that?’ Mom picked up the plate with the ricotta pie on it, eyeing the pieces as if she was counting them to make sure she’d get leftovers.
‘We ask who saw them around and what exactly they were doing. Were they watching the gulls or doing something more? That sort of thing,’ Millie said.
‘What about Barbara Littlefield?’ Mom asked. ‘She’s always up on the cliff mothering that lousewort. If the Weatherbys have been up to some shenanigans, chances are she’s seen them. I’d say someone should talk to her.’
I grabbed the pitcher of juice from the fridge and follow Millie to the dining room. Mom had a point about Barbara. Maybe the crotchety building inspector would have her uses after all.
Sixteen
Millie and Mom had cast suspicious glances at the Weatherbys all during breakfast. It was a wonder they didn’t catch on to the fact that we suspected them. I couldn’t help but study them myself for suspicious activity, but they acted normal. Tina on the other hand kept staring at me, then averting her eyes, then dropping things on the floor. Clearly she was nervous that I’d tell everyone about her affair with Tony. I wouldn’t. That was the least of my worries.
Ava seemed oblivious to all of it and enjoyed two slices of ricotta pie while sipping tea from her dainty china teacup and chatting with Millie and Mom.
After breakfast, Mom and Millie helped me clean up and I drew the short straw so it was determined I would talk to Barbara. That’s how I found myself standing outside Barbara’s office in the town hall with the last piece of ricotta pie in a handy reusable plastic container.
The door to Barbara’s office was a giant imposing oak door. I wouldn’t have been surprised if it had a humongous metal doorknocker and squeaky iron hinges, but it was just a regular oak four panel door.
‘Go ahead and knock, she’s not busy,’ the receptionist prompted because I was hesitating. ‘She doesn’t bite.’
I sucked in a breath wondering how badly I wanted to find out if she knew about the Weatherbys doing anything strange on the cliff. I reminded myself that Sheriff Chamberlain still thought I could be involved and tapped the door.
‘What do you want?’ Her voice bellowed through the door and it didn’t sound friendly.
‘Umm... It’s Josie Waters. I brought you some pie.’
‘Oh good. Come on in, I can serve you this fine in person.’
Great. I opened the door anyway. I figured she’d give me the fine no matter what, but maybe the pie would butter her up a bit. At the very least I still needed to ask about the Weatherbys.
I don’t know what I had expected her office to look like. Probably sparse and unwelcoming and filled with stainless steel furniture, bland indoor-outdoor carpet and uncomfortable plastic chairs. But what was inside was something else entirely. It looked like a tropical paradise.
Lush green plants lined the windowsills, crowded the tables and obscured the desk. There were plants of every size. Tall palm-like plants that stood in giant pots in the corner, to tiny seedlings under a fluorescent lamp. The heat was turned up to sweltering.
‘Well, well, well. I didn’t expect or want to see you, but I guess it is convenient.’ Barbara’s voice came from somewhere in front of me, but all I could see was plants. Then, two claw-like hands reached out to part the leaves of a gaggle of giant philodendrons that sat on the desk, and Barbara’s face peeked through, her eyes narrowed, mouth twisted in a sour puss.
‘Hi Barb— I mean Mrs. Littlefield!’ I tried to act cheery and shoved the pie out in front of me. ‘I had this leftover from breakfast and Millie thought it would be nice to bring it down.’
I heard a chair push back and I assumed she had stood. I couldn’t tell because the plants were so tall. She appeared around the corner of the desk (yes, it was dull gray metal just as I’d envisioned).
‘Millie Sullivan you say?’ She eyed the pie with suspicion and I hoped she wouldn’t recognize it as Tony’s. Was it bad etiquette to re-gift pie?
I nodded and handed it over. Barbara grabbed it and found some space on the desk for it, then folded her arms across her chest. ‘That wouldn’t be a bribe now would it?’
‘What? No, of course not.’
‘I don’t take bribes.’ She shoved a piece of paper in my hand. ‘This here’s your fine for having a corpse on the premises during breakfast.’
‘That’s a real thing you can get fined for?’ I stared at the paper, my palms starting to sweat. I wasn’t sure if the sweating was because of the two-hundred-and-fifty-dollar price tag or the fact that the room was sweltering. Two hundred and fifty dollars? I could barely come up with that, but I knew it was no use to argue with her. Better not to anger her either, I still had a lot of renovations I had to get her approval for.
Barbara didn’t seem affected by the heat. ‘Yes it’s a real thing and payable within thirty days. You better get y
our act together over there or you might find yourself without a guesthouse to run.’
I swallowed hard, sweat beaded on my forehead. I felt like a chastised schoolgirl. ‘Yes ma’am.’
‘Okay, now get lost.’
Shoot. I had to ask her about the cliffs. I wiped sweat out of my eyes and glanced at the plants. Inspiration struck. The best way to get people to like you was to talk about something they were interested in. Barbara was certainly interested in plants. ‘I see you have some nice plants here. They look so healthy.’
She turned and frowned at me. ‘What’s it to you?’
‘Nothing. Just um… they look nice.’
‘Thanks.’ She blinked and I thought I saw her eyes soften, but then they grew cold and hard just as quick.
This wasn’t working out the way I’d hoped. Okay, be more specific and get her talking. I walked over to the plants that were growing under the lights and made a pretense of admiring them while sweat rolled down my back. There were some dead plants on the lower shelf and I purposely didn’t mention, those focusing on the live ones instead. ‘Take these for example, they’re very green even though they are so young.’ I bent closer to them and reached out my hand to touch one.
‘Watch out!’ Barbara rushed over and practically slapped my hand away. ‘Those are
endangered lousewort. Be careful.’
Bingo! The perfect opening for me to ask about the cliff. ‘Speaking of that. I’ve heard some of my guests talking about that and was wondering if you’ve seen them on the cliffs?’
‘Your guests? No. That area is off limits.’
‘I know, but it has a nice view.’
‘View, schmoo. The endangered plants are up there and no one is allowed.’
‘But the Weatherbys are avid birdwatchers and the gulls’ nests are near there and they eat the berries. Surely you must have seen them up there?’
She just glared at me and repeated, ‘No one goes up there.’
Darn. She hadn’t seen anything. She’d probably have made big scene about it if she had seen them anyway. Was it possible that I was on the wrong track, that Charles and the Weatherbys weren’t up there? ‘Not even Charles Prescott?’
‘You mean the man who died?’
I nodded.
‘Nope. Never even met the man, much less saw him in a protected area. I would have written him up if I did. Now if you’re done asking me inane questions and trying to bribe me, I have work to do.’ She practically shoved me out the door.
I supposed that Charles could have been on the cliff when Barbara wasn’t there. She spent a lot of time tending to the lousewort, but she couldn’t possibly be up there every minute. And, if the Weatherbys were up to something suspicious, wouldn’t they make sure they were alone? Unfortunately my whole trip had been a waste, but just because Barbara hadn’t seen anyone, didn’t mean that they hadn’t been there.
Barbara hadn’t been a wealth of information, so I left her office disappointed. I had been hoping she could corroborate my theory about the Weatherbys and had seen them doing something suspicious.
Since I was in town, I figured it was only fitting that I pop in and visit Jen. Seeing her always lifted my spirits and I could use someone to bounce my theories off of and help me figure out what to do next. Mom and Millie were fine to investigate with, but I needed another opinion.
As I started down Main Street toward the post office, my phone pinged. It was Emma.
Just checking in. How you doing?
How nice was that? My daughter was taking the time out of her busy day to check up on me. Then I frowned. Maybe she’d been talking to mom again and had gotten an earful of information about dead bodies and potential suspects.
I’m great. Don’t listen to anything grandma tells you.
It took a few seconds for her reply.
Lol. I just want you to be safe. Remember, don’t jump to conclusions without the proper evidence. That’s what I learned in school.
How the tables had turned. When Emma was a teenager, I’d texted her advice trying to keep her out of trouble, now she was texting it to me. But she had a point. Did I have the proper evidence to suspect the Weatherby’s or was I jumping to conclusions?
I won’t, don’t worry. I’m too busy running the guesthouse for that.
Okay so it was a little white lie. Probably no worse than some of the things she’d texted me when she was young. Of course, her reply speared me with guilt.
Okay, Mom. Gotta run. Love you!
Love you too.
I put my phone in my pocket and continued on to the post office, my thoughts swirling about the Weatherbys. I was starting to second guess myself. What did I really have on the Weatherbys? The fact that they didn’t know technical information about cameras and had straw and feathers in their room? Flimsy at best.
I held the door for two senior citizens who were leaving as I exited. Their smiles faded as they recognized me, and they sidled away as if I was contagious.
‘Morning Mrs. Fisher and Mrs. Newhart,’ I said pleasantly.
Mrs. Newhart narrowed her eyes and nodded.
Mrs. Fisher grabbed Newhart’s arm and hauled her down the street
They shuffled off, heads bent together, hose wrinkled around their ankles. I thought I heard some words drift over to me ‘…heard she was involved in a murder…’
Oh no. The Oyster Cove rumor mill was in full force and I was the subject. I shouldn’t have been surprised, I knew from past experience that all the good gossip was gleaned down at the post office. All the more reason to help Sheriff Chamberlain along with his investigation. I strode into the post office with dogged determination.
Inside, Jen was standing at the counter, a two-foot-high pile of envelopes on her left, a large round stamper on her right and an angry look on her face.
Stamp. Stamp. Stamp.
She plucked envelopes from the top of the stack and hammered the stamper down on them, then piled them on her right.
‘What are you doing?’ I asked.
She blew a bang out of her eyes. ‘Stupid postmarking machine broke. I have to do these by hand.’
‘Can I help?’
She paused the stamping and smiled at me. ‘No. Thanks for the offer, but I only have one stamper. I could use the company though, this is boring.’
Stamp. Stamp.
‘I have some news that will liven things up.’
She looked up at me, barely stopping the stamping rhythm. ‘Oh? Did you figure out who the killer is?’
‘Sort of. Remember how I told you about the footprint and the bad review that Charles wrote on the Marinara Mariner?’
‘Yep.’ Stamp. Stamp.
‘Well, I was partially right.’
The stamping stopped and she looked up at me. ‘Tony really was the killer?’
‘No. But it was his footprint.’
The stamping resumed. ‘But he wasn’t the killer? What was he doing there?’
I told her about Tony’s visit and his and Tina’s confession. ‘I have new suspects now though. I think it might be the old couple staying at the guesthouse,’ I said.
‘The birdwatchers? Why?’
‘According to Flora, they had feathers and straw all over the room. You know. like from birds’ nests,’ I said.
Stamp.
‘Flora doesn’t see too well and she’s been known to exaggerate.’ Jen punctuated her words with more stamping.
‘Well, they were seen up at the gulls’ nests.’
‘Why is that unusual? They are birdwatchers, right?’
Stamp. Stamp.
Hmm… she had a point. Maybe I was seeing malice where there was none. But they were my only suspects. ‘Mike said they didn’t know the details about one of the cameras they used. That seems odd to me if they are such avid bird watchers.’
Jen stopped stamping and looked up at me with a sly smile. ‘So you are hanging around with Mike.’
‘No!’ Judging by the knowing look Jen gave m
e, the protest might have been too forceful. I tempered my voice and said matter of factly, ‘He only saw the camera because he’s working there and hopefully not for long.’
‘Uh-huh. Come on, I know you were crushing on him in high school. Admit it. You like having him around.’
‘That was more than twenty years ago. I’ve been married since. Who lingers on their high school crush anyway?’
She looked at me skeptically then went back to stamping. ‘Just because you were married to a jerk, shouldn’t sour you on men. Look at all the jerks I dated before I found the right guy.’
Jen wasn’t joking, she had dated a lot of jerks, but now she was with her soulmate. I was a little envious of their wedded bliss, but also doubtful that would happen for me. I was no spring chicken. ‘I don’t think I’m ready for dating.’
‘Ohhh so there’s a chance you might be someday. Good, I’ll keep that in mind.’
‘Great. So back to the case...’
‘Right’ She made a face as if trying to remember the specifics. ‘What about the sabotage? Could Ron have done that?’
I’d wondered that myself, but it wasn’t like it took a lot of strength or skill to do that sawing. One would have to know just where to make the cuts, but it wasn’t rocket science. ‘Maybe Ron was a carpenter before. I mean he certainly could have sabotaged the room and he made a remark about small-town police not following up thoroughly, so I wonder if he was banking on the fact that Seth Chamberlain might not even notice the sabotage and rule it an accident.’
Jen stopped stamping and thought about it. ‘I guess that is a lot of counts against them. I just can’t believe those nice people could be killers. The Wessons were so nice.’
‘Wessons? You mean Weatherbys.’
She scrunched her face up. ‘No. Wesson. They came in to pick up a package the other day and I’m certain that was the name on it.’
‘No. They signed in as Weatherby. It was on his license.’
Jen’s brows shot up. ‘What if they have a fake identity? If they are the killers, they might be pretending to be someone else.’
A Twist in the Tail: An absolutely purrfect cozy mystery (The Oyster Cove Guesthouse Book 1) Page 14