Overkilt

by Kaitlyn Dunnett

  Glenora, unnoticed by the dogs, was curled up on the top of the refrigerator, her black fur making her almost invisible in the small space between it and the underside of another kitchen cabinet. She narrowed her green eyes until they were mere slits as she monitored the canine activity below her perch.

  “What would you like to drink?” Liss didn’t keep a many varieties of tea in the house, although she did have a better selection at home than in the stockroom at the shop.

  Margaret inhaled and a blissful look came over her face. “With gingerbread? How about a glass of milk?”

  She settled in at the table while Liss cut two generous squares of the freshly baked treat. She wasn’t much of a cook, but she’d followed an old family recipe and the result did smell wonderful. Since it looked a bit burnt around the edges, she took both portions from the middle and topped them with generous dollops of whipped cream for good measure.

  “Did you have a good meeting?” she asked when she’d placed the milk and gingerbread in front of her aunt.

  Liss started to return to the kitchen counter for the second glass and plate and stopped short. Glenora had come down from her aerie and was sniffing delicately at the whipped cream. The two dogs sat on the floor directly below her, tongues hanging out and black eyes bright with interest.

  Margaret chuckled. “Come here, you two.”

  Reluctantly, they trotted over to the table and sat beside Margaret’s chair while Liss shooed Glenora off the counter. The cat jumped to the floor and sauntered over to the food and water bowls she shared with Lumpkin. After sniffing at the contents in each of the two sections of the food dish, she turned to Liss with an affronted look.

  “What’s wrong with what’s already in there?”

  Glenora’s body language expressed utter disdain.

  Margaret laughed. “Obviously, Her Highness wishes to see the menu.”

  “Her Highness is in for a disappointment.” Liss joined her aunt at the table just as Margaret took her first bite of gingerbread. “What’s the verdict?”

  “Your baking skills are . . . improving.”

  “Damned with faint praise.” She tasted a forkful for herself and grimaced. “What am I doing wrong? It never comes out as moist as it does when you make it.”

  “It could be your oven. Some run hotter than others.”

  It was a kind thing to say, but Liss knew it wasn’t the stove that was at fault. She had years of culinary failures behind her, starting with a lamentable inability to bake scones. They came out as hard as rocks even when she used a box mix. She hastily scooped up her aunt’s plate. “You don’t have to eat it.”

  That Margaret didn’t object to having her gingerbread whisked away and dumped into the garbage convinced Liss that she ought to go back to buying all her desserts at Patsy’s Coffee House.

  It was only when she reached for the pan to throw the rest away that she realized that Glenora was once again on the counter. This time the cat was a good foot away from the open container of whipped cream, but a telltale white mustache stood out against the black fur on her face. Despite her exasperation, Liss couldn’t help but smile. That expression vanished the instant Margaret spoke.

  “Why did you really ask me to come over here?”

  Liss took her time putting the lid on the whipped cream and returning it to the refrigerator. She didn’t know why she was procrastinating. She certainly didn’t believe her aunt could have killed anybody, but she turned so she could see Margaret’s face when she made her announcement.

  “Hadley Spinner isn’t dead. It was his cousin Jasper who was murdered on Saturday.”

  Margaret looked mildly surprised, but neither shocked nor dismayed. “The Pilgrims do all look a lot alike,” she said. “I can understand how one might be mistaken for the other.”

  “I saw you go into the park on Saturday.”

  “I took the dogs for their regular walk.”

  “When did you get back?”

  Margaret smiled. “Are you asking me if I have an alibi for the time of the murder? Don’t answer. Of course you are. I’d be amazed if you didn’t ask.”

  “Well? Do you?” Liss rotated her shoulders to ease the mounting tension. The muscles of her neck felt equally cramped.

  “Sadly, no. The dogs were with me in my apartment at the time, but no one else was.”

  “Did you know Jasper?”

  “Slightly.” She frowned. “If he’s the one who was killed, that could explain why I came in for such intense questioning by your old beau, the state trooper.”

  Liss ignored the reference to Gordon’s long-ago romantic interest in her. His courtship had been brief. They’d only gone out a few times before she’d realized that Dan, not Gordon, was the man with whom she wanted to spend the rest of her life.

  “Why would Gordon think you had a motive to kill either Hadley or Jasper?”

  Margaret sighed. “Do you remember that friend I told you about the other day?”

  “The young woman at Pilgrim Farm? The one who drowned?”

  “Yes. There’s more to the story.” As if to fortify herself, Margaret took a sip of milk. She looked as if she regretted not asking for a soothing cup of tea.

  Leaning back against the counter, Liss was prepared to be a sympathetic listener.

  “I made a huge fuss at the time,” Margaret confessed. “I hoped to get the police to investigate the death as a homicide, but they refused to reopen the case. Perhaps Gordon feels I’ve been harboring a desire for revenge.”

  “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. That all took place years ago.”

  Margaret’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “Isn’t revenge supposed to be a dish best served cold?”

  Liss rolled her eyes. “Aside from the fact that I can’t imagine you killing anyone, not even Hadley Spinner, you aren’t the type to hold a grudge. Am I to take it that Gordon led you to believe that Hadley Spinner was the victim?”

  A thoughtful look on her face, Margaret considered the question. “He didn’t correct any assumption I might have made, but in this case it wouldn’t have made a bit of difference if he had told me it was Jasper. I was equally angry with both of them when Susan died.” She stopped speaking to take another sip of the milk. There was a note of bitterness in her voice when she continued. “Jasper Spinner was Susan’s husband. Even more than Hadley, he was responsible for convincing her she couldn’t leave . . . not until death did them part.”

  Well, that was a new twist, Liss thought, and not one she liked. The two women sat in silence for a bit while Liss tried to think what else to ask her aunt. She gave a start when the two dogs, who had been lying next to the table, suddenly scrambled to their feet. She didn’t have to look far for the reason they’d gone on alert. Lumpkin stood in the doorway from the hall, back arched and fur fluffed to make him look even bigger than he was.

  Margaret grabbed Dandy and Dondi by their collars a split second before they could bolt toward the cat. They tried to wriggle out of her grasp, but when she ordered them to sit, they obeyed. Their eyes remained glued to the cat.

  Lumpkin subsided. Sending one final contemptuous glare their way, he ignored the Scotties and waddled over to inspect his food and water bowls. As Glenora had earlier, he sniffed, rejected the contents, and sent Liss a look that clearly indicated that he expected to be offered something better.

  Resigned, Liss collected the empty milk glasses and got to her feet. “When I opened that can this morning, they both thought it was the greatest thing since sliced bread. That lasted for about two bites. They are spoiled brats.”

  “Uh-huh,” her aunt said, “and who is it who spoils them? You aren’t getting a bit of sympathy from me.”

  Just as Liss reached the sink, Lumpkin let loose with a demanding half-meow, half-yowl. She’d read somewhere that Maine Coons were supposed to chirp, but Lumpkin had never made that delicate a sound in his entire life.

  “Your dish will have to be empty before I’ll consider
putting out more,” she said over her shoulder. With her back to the cat, she busied herself rinsing out the glasses. “If you don’t like that flavor, eat the crunchy stuff.” The feeder on the far side of the water bowl was always filled with dry cat food.

  Liss ran hot water into the now-empty gingerbread pan and added a squirt of dishwashing liquid, hoping that if she let it soak for an hour or so, what had burned onto the sides would be easier to clean off. She was also procrastinating by engaging in this domestic chore. She was reluctant to ask Margaret more questions about Susan and Jasper and Hadley. She was certain she wouldn’t like the answers.

  “Uh, Liss?”

  The odd note in Margaret’s voice caught her niece’s attention. She sounded as if she was trying to stifle laughter. Then Liss heard a slurping sound.

  She turned to find that Dandy had her face buried in the bowl full of canned cat food while Dondi made short work of the kibble. He was scarfing it up as fast as it flowed out of the feeder.

  “Come here, Dandy. Come here, Dondi. Bad doggies.” But Margaret’s mirth-filled commands lacked force. Neither Scottie paid any attention to her.

  “Oh, good grief!” Liss stomped across the kitchen and grabbed hold of their collars, hauling them away from the cat food. She kept tugging until she’d returned them to Margaret, who hastily clipped on their leashes.

  “I’m so sorry,” her aunt apologized. “My mind was on something else and, honestly, I didn’t think they’d go for the cat food.” Another sputter of laughter escaped her. “They’ve never done that before.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  Liss picked up the bowls and the feeder and set them on the counter. She jumped back, her hand to her heart, when Glenora landed lightly right next to them. Liss had no idea where the little black cat had come from but when she sniffed at the empty bowls and then bumped her head against Liss’s arm, Liss reached out to stroke her soft fur.

  “Did you put Dandy and Dondi up to that trick just so you and Lumpkin could get a different flavor of cat food?”

  Glenora’s response was clear enough. She began to purr.

  “Of course you didn’t. What was I thinking?” She started toward the pantry where she kept the cat food, almost tripping over Lumpkin en route. Unfazed, he attempted to wind himself around her ankles the entire time she was getting a fresh can, opening it, and dividing the contents between the two sections of the clean cat food dish she took out of a cabinet. That done, she hoisted his considerable bulk onto the counter beside Glenora. He was too fat to leap up there by himself and she wasn’t about to put more food on the floor while Margaret’s two dogs were still in the vicinity.

  Lumpkin took one bite and turned up his nose, rejecting the fresh offering.

  “Suit yourself,” Liss said, “but that’s all you’re getting for the rest of the day.”

  Margaret snickered. “I don’t know why you expect him to believe that. You and Dan slip tidbits to him at every meal.”

  “Not when it’s pizza,” Liss defended herself. “Or lasagna. Or anything with tomato sauce.”

  She turned to find Margaret on the brink of departure. Before she could ask any of her questions, her aunt waved good-bye and was gone.

  * * *

  The next morning, before Liss opened Moosetookalook Scottish Emporium for the day, she made a detour to Patsy’s Coffee House. She closed her eyes and felt a blissful smile come over her features when she walked through the door and inhaled the mouthwatering aroma of freshly baked sticky buns. She had a weakness for these oversized cinnamon rolls lightly topped with luscious icing.

  On her way to the counter, she glanced casually around to see who else was in the café and her good mood abruptly tanked. “What are you doing here?”

  Gordon Tandy looked up from his coffee and a slice of banana bread with a puzzled expression on his face. “Having breakfast?”

  “You’ve got a lot of nerve coming in here after the way you’ve been hounding Patsy and the other townspeople, not to mention the fact that you deceived everyone.”

  “Hold on,” Patsy called from the kitchen area. “Don’t run off a paying customer.”

  “If it’s any consolation,” Gordon said, “I’m no longer on her free-coffee-for-the-cops list.”

  “Good.” Hands on hips, Liss glowered down at him. For a change, since he was seated, she had the advantage of height.

  Gordon regarded her over the rim of his mug, his expression enigmatic. “I suppose I have you to thank for spreading the word that Hadley Spinner is still alive?”

  “People had a right to know.” Liss hated that she sounded defensive. “Besides, they’d have found out soon enough on their own. You can’t have expected the Pills to keep quiet about it.”

  One eyebrow lifted slightly at her use of Joe Ruskin’s nickname for the New Age Pilgrims. “I had hoped to keep word from getting out for a little longer.”

  “Why? So you could trick someone into admitting to a perfectly natural dislike of Hadley Spinner?”

  The lighter flecks in Gordon’s dark brown eyes glittered. “Sit down, Liss.”

  She was tempted to tell him she’d rather remain standing, but since that response would be both childish and churlish, she sat. Around them, normal conversation resumed. Until that moment, Liss had been oblivious to the fact that there were other customers in the café. The clatter of cutlery on china and the low hum of voices had her taking a quick look around.

  Alex Permutter was at his usual table, this time with his wife. Liss’s next-door neighbor, John Farley the accountant, was seated on a stool at the counter. Gloria Weir, who owned Ye Olde Hobbie Shoppe, was at another table and gave Liss a finger wave before going back to her juice and muffin. Two men she didn’t know occupied a booth by the window and seemed inordinately interested in her. She avoided making eye contact.

  “Reporters,” Gordon said in a low voice. “Lewiston Sun and Bangor Daily News.”

  “Damn.”

  The door behind Liss opened and closed. Gordon glanced past her and grimaced. “And here’s the young lady from the Daily Scoop. My day is complete.”

  Although his scowl was meant to ward off questions from Jerrilyn Jones, the online newspaper’s only full-time employee, Liss also felt the impact of that look. Gordon Tandy was not a happy camper. She briefly considered apologizing for meddling in his case but decided against it. She wasn’t in the mood for a lecture.

  “I won’t insult you by trying to tell you how to do your job,” she said instead, “but there’s something seriously out of whack about those people out at Pilgrim Farm.”

  Gordon said nothing.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if my aunt was right about what happened to her friend.”

  “The friend who was married to the victim?” Gordon asked. “That connection doesn’t make Margaret into any less like a person of interest to the police.”

  “You can’t seriously believe—”

  He lifted a hand to silence her. “I’m not telling you anything about the investigation except that you need to stay out of it. You have no way of knowing what might jeopardize our efforts to build a case. Spreading the word about Spinner may not have caused us any serious problems, but you couldn’t have known that it wouldn’t.”

  Giving her no opportunity for rebuttal, he stood, tossed a ten-dollar bill on the table, and headed for the door. He didn’t exactly stalk out, but his dismissal could not have been any more obvious. Neither could the suggestion that he was taking a serious look at Margaret Boyd’s motive.

  Stay out of it? Let him railroad her aunt? Not a chance! Liss was more determined than ever to prove the innocence of all those she cared about. She purchased two sticky buns and a large coffee to go, made a brief stop at the town office to vote—it was an off-year, so there were only four state-wide yes-or-no questions on the ballot—and then opened the Emporium.

  She told herself she was glad she had no customers. That meant she could start making lists of susp
ects and motives and alibis. Once she’d written down all she knew, she felt certain that some brilliant new avenue of investigation would occur to her.

  * * *

  “I’ve had a wonderful idea!” Violet MacCrimmon announced as she swanned into Moosetookalook Scottish Emporium just after lunch.

  Liss braced herself. Her mother looked entirely too pleased about her latest brainstorm.

  “What idea is that, Mom?” She hit the key to print out a newly received order for kilt hose and stepped away from the computer on the sales counter. She was prepared to listen. Her list making had yielded a big fat zero when it came to inspiration.

  “Infiltrate.” She heaved an exasperated sigh when she saw the blank expression on her daughter’s face. “The New Age Pilgrims. The only way to find out which one of them tried to kill Hadley Spinner is to join up.”

  Liss burst out laughing. “You’ve got to be kidding!”

  She crossed the shop to where her mother was fiddling with a display of tartan scarves, leaving them in disarray. Was she nervous? That surprised Liss. Her mother had nerves of steel, except for that one time when she’d just discovered a dead body on the merry-go-round.

  “I am perfectly serious,” Vi insisted. “What better way to glean information?”

  “And just who did you have in mind as a spy? I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t believe me if I tried to tell them I’d had an epiphany and wanted to mend my wicked ways.”

  Vi drew herself up straighter and abandoned the scarves. “I was thinking of myself. And your father, of course, since they only accept married couples.”

  Figuratively picking her jaw up off the floor and slamming it back into place, Liss stared at her mother. “And Daddy agreed to this?”

  “Well, he hasn’t yet, since I haven’t told him about it, but I’m certain he will.”