A Mew to a Kill

by Leighann Dobbs

  I answered a frantic phone call from Pepper, who had just found out about my accident. I waved off her offer of a special tea and then put Pandora in my Jeep and drove back to the bookstore. I didn’t need to rest. Other than an ache in my shoulder, I felt great and I had work to catch up on … plus I wanted to ask Paisley a few questions.

  Now that I knew George hadn’t killed Paisley, I was pretty sure the person who tried to run me down must be the real killer. It was the only thing that made sense. I’d already gotten halfway into the investigation, and it seemed like it was in my best interest to see it all the way through.

  If the real killer was the person that had run me down, he might have thought I’d seen him and now he might be trying to kill me. I needed to find out who that was before he made another attempt on my life.

  I bustled around in the bookstore, cataloging books and putting them away. I hadn’t been in there long when I heard Paisley’s familiar giggle. Rounding the corner, I saw her holding court with Robert and Franklin.

  “Willa!” Robert motioned for me to join them. “Where have you been? The shop has been closed most of the morning.”

  “I didn’t think you guys would notice,” I said. The truth was I did feel a little flattered that they had noticed.

  “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Franklin’s face creased with concern as he indicated the shoulder that I was favoring.

  “Just a little accident.” I rubbed my shoulder, then realized it was aching like my leg used to, but my leg no longer hurt. Great, I’d traded one pain for another.

  “You know, you should define your eyebrow shape better, and maybe a little bit of mascara would help.” Paisley frowned at me as she studied my brows. “How about my killer? Have you found him?”

  “Unfortunately, no. George was arrested but it turns out he had an alibi. He didn’t kill you.”

  “See, I told you George was too wimpy,” Paisley said.

  “Well, he did set your store on fire.”

  Her left brow shot up. “Really? I didn’t think George had that in him. So he burned the store down, but he didn’t kill me?”

  “Right. It turns out you were already dead in the store when he burned it. Apparently, he didn’t notice your body there. Someone had killed you earlier in the night. George came in that morning after a restless night, knowing that you had the pictures of him. I guess he didn't trust that you would give them all to him as you promised and thought you might use them to blackmail him later on, so he wanted to destroy them. He said he splashed turpentine all over the back of the store, but never went out front where your body was.”

  Paisley laughed. “Silly George. That wouldn’t have gotten him anywhere. I had them hidden at my house.”

  “Yeah, I know. I saw them.” My nose wrinkled remembering the pictures. “But anyway, George has an alibi for your time of death. You were killed around nine thirty. Do you remember anything about that night or who was in your shop?”

  Paisley shook her head. “I still can’t remember.”

  “What about Kenny? Did he visit you that night?”

  “No, I don’t think so. All I remember is getting that note … and then … brown tweed. Oh, and I think I had a camera.”

  “Right, the police have one. You took a picture. Possibly of the killer.”

  Her face brightened. “Great, then why don’t they just transfer that picture off onto the computer and see who it is?”

  “They can’t. The camera was damaged.” I made a mental note to check on the data recovery for that picture.

  Paisley pressed her lips together. “Gosh, I wish I could be more helpful but I just don’t remember. Do you have any other leads besides George?”

  “Well, there is Neil…”

  “Neil Lane? He couldn’t have done it.”

  “I went to your house and found him there. I know about the engagement. He’s the other man, isn’t he?”

  Paisley nodded. “But he couldn’t have killed me. He loved me.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “Yes, it seems like he really did. We found him in your house taking his engagement ring back. He was really hurt that you had used him to get into the art show.”

  “I didn’t use him. I mean, I didn’t realize I was taking his spot by pressuring George to get me in there. If I’d known that, I never would have done it.” Her voice cracked and a tear slipped down her cheek. “I loved Neil, too.”

  “He said he was out of town that night, so I guess it couldn’t have been him.” I’d spilled my guts about Neil to Gus and Striker in the hospital. It turned out they had already been on to Neil. They’d checked his alibi and it was true he wasn’t in town that night. He’d flown in the next morning, just like he had claimed. But I still wanted to see Paisley’s reaction, just in case he had somehow faked his alibi.

  Paisley shook her head. “That’s right. He was out of town at an art show.”

  Now that Neil and George were ruled out, that left only one suspect besides Maisie … Kenny.

  “What about your brother? He came by the shop, didn’t he?”

  "He came by after George, but he couldn't have done it," she said.

  That explained how he knew I'd voted against Paisley in the art show judges’ meeting. "Why not?"

  “Kenny is a very sweet guy. He couldn’t hurt a flea. In fact, he was helping me with the mama cat.

  “Mama cat?”

  Paisley’s eyes widened. “I’d almost forgotten! A pregnant cat showed up behind the store and I’d been feeding her. I even had a little box out there for her to have the babies in.”

  My mind flashed on the box I'd seen when I’d look for clues behind the store. So, that’s what it had been for. “I didn’t see any cat back there.”

  Paisley wrung her hands “Oh, Willa. You have to go check on her. She’s probably getting ready to have those babies by now and it could be dangerous for her. Kenny has no place to take care of her. I hope she wasn’t hurt in the fire.”

  My heart pinched—I hadn’t heard of a cat getting hurt in the fire, but what if she was out there and injured?

  “I don’t think so. But the back door is boarded up now. There might be an opening small enough for a cat to squeeze through.” I glanced at Pandora. I knew from personal experience that cats could squeeze through very small openings.

  “Then you must go inside and check. I hid a key to my shop in the planter at Dickson’s Hats next door.”

  “Okay, I’ll check for her.” Somehow, I couldn’t picture Kenny taking care of a mother cat and kittens. “Maybe Kenny took her somewhere?”

  “No. He had no place to take her.”

  “I heard Kenny was a suspect in the lumberyard fire.”

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “Some of the regulars here remembered.”

  “He was cleared of all charges. He helped Amanda with some of the strays that used to wander in there, for crying out loud. Why would he burn it? And if you’re trying to insinuate he’s the arsonist who burned my place too, then how do you explain George confessing to it?”

  Good point. This was getting confusing.

  “Maybe you need to look beyond your circle of suspects. It’s getting you nowhere,” Paisley pointed out.

  Maybe she was right … or maybe she just didn’t want to admit to herself that it could have been Kenny.

  “Does Kenny drive a black truck?” I persisted.

  “A truck? No, he doesn’t even have a car, but sometimes he uses his friend’s car. Its a Toyota, though, not a truck.”

  That didn’t mean he couldn’t have borrowed it from someone else.

  “It wasn’t Kenny, I tell you. He’s a do-gooder, not a killer.” Paisley’s voice rose in anger.

  “Now, now. Don’t argue. I’m sure Willa will find the real killer,” Franklin, who had been listening quietly along with Robert, said.

  “Yes, doing good is not always … err … good,” Robert added, then he adopted the pose he used when quo
ting himself. “We saw the risk we took in doing good, but dared not spare to do the best we could.”

  “And you must do the best you can, Willa.” Franklin put his arm around Paisley and he and Robert ushered her away from me.

  I watched as the three ghosts slowly did their vanishing act, becoming increasingly opaque as they retreated into the distance. Just when they had almost disappeared into thin air, Paisley looked back at me over her shoulder. “Don’t forget, Willa … look further than the close circle … and think about trying some blue eye shadow. It will highlight the color of your eyes.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  After the ghosts disappeared, I wanted to get over to Paisley’s store right away and look for the cat. Not to mention that having a key would allow me to look around inside for other clues. But mostly I was worried about the cat.

  I was just about to close up when customers came in. Not wanting to give up a sale, I waited around for them to browse. Unfortunately—or fortunately depending on how you looked at it—more customers came in and before I knew it, two hours had passed. It wasn’t a total loss, though. I sold a couple of Nancy Drew mysteries, some modern thrillers, and an antique anatomy book, complete with over one hundred plates of the human body inside for a tidy sum.

  Just as I was about to head out for the second time, Bing, Josiah, Hattie and Cordelia burst through the door with a cup of coffee and a blueberry muffin for me.

  Just looking at the muffin made my mouth water—that hard-boiled egg I’d had earlier wasn’t enough to feed a duck. I was starving and I couldn’t refuse their hospitality, now could I?

  I sat down on the purple sofa, glad to have a chance to rest my aching shoulder and dug in to the muffin. The tart blueberries and giant granules of sugar worked better than any pain medication to make me forget my aches and pains.

  “We’re so glad you weren’t badly hurt.” Cordelia studied me with sharp blue eyes.

  “You sure you should be at work today?” Bing asked.

  “That’s a nasty knock on your forehead,” Hattie added.

  I sprinkled some muffin crumbs into my mouth. “I feel fine. The doctor said there was nothing wrong, just a few bruises.” I reached up to massage my shoulder. “My shoulder hurts like heck, but my head feels fine. I guess I wasn’t hit bad enough to do any real damage.”

  “You do have a hard head.” Bing’s blue eyes twinkled with amusement.

  “That’s what Gus said.”

  “It was quite a shock for us to find out George wasn’t the killer.” Hattie played with the string from her tea bag.

  “Me, too, but Gus and Striker said he had an airtight alibi.”

  Josiah nodded. “Yep. He was right in the town hall having an argument.”

  “Of course, he did set her shop on fire and that’s going to ruin him. I was surprised he would confess to that, but I guess he felt like that was getting off easy compared to being convicted of murder,” Cordelia said.

  Bing turned to me. “So what happened? We heard you were run down in the street.”

  I glanced out the window at the spot where I’d been hit. Was that a cat slinking across the alley? I craned my neck. Nope, just some leaves blowing in the wind. I explained how I’d seen someone in the photography shop and had gone over to stop them from stealing anything. “Of course, that was when I still thought George was the killer and he was in jail. I guess whoever tried to run me down was the real killer.”

  Cordelia put her cup down on the coffee table. “Wait. Why would the killer wait all this time to go into Paisley’s shop?”

  I frowned. That was a good question. “Maybe they just realized they left evidence inside?”

  “Are you sure it was the killer? Maybe it was someone else,” Hattie pointed out.

  “Maybe, but why would someone else be there?”

  “How did they get inside?” Josiah asked.

  “Beats me.” I made a mental note to check the back. The intruder must have either pried off the boards … or they had a key. I wondered if Kenny knew that Paisley kept a key in the planter.

  “And you didn’t see who struck you or recognize the car?” Hattie asked.

  I shook my head. “I didn’t see who was driving, but was a black truck. I don’t know anyone who has one. Do any of you?”

  They contemplated this in silence, one by one shaking their heads. No one could come up with anyone who even had a truck, much less someone that had a black truck and would want to kill Paisley.

  Bing sipped his coffee thoughtfully. “So, who do you think the real killer is?”

  I puffed out a breath and sank back into the couch. “Well, my main suspect is Paisley’s brother, Kenny.”

  Cordelia’s brows pinched together. “Why would Kenny kill his own sister?”

  “What motive would he have? Did they not get along?” Hattie added.

  I couldn’t tell them that Paisley had said they did get along. “I don’t know. Maybe she got him mad or something or he might have gotten into trouble and needed money. I heard that she had some expensive cameras at her house. I guess he would probably inherit them.”

  Josiah made a face. “You think he killed her for cameras? How much money can cameras be worth? A couple of thousand? That hardly seems worth it for murder, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, you might be grasping. Who else do you have on your suspect list?” Bing asked.

  “The only other person is Maisie Beardsley.” I hated to think it, never mind say it out loud, but I had to admit there was a certain amount of evidence pointing toward her, including the ‘B’ charm I’d given to Gus in the hospital.

  Cordelia gasped. “Surely you don’t suspect Maisie? Why, she’s an old woman.”

  “And an upstanding member of the community,” Hattie added.

  “Would she even have the strength to clonk Paisley on the back of the head hard enough to kill her?” Josiah asked. “My source at the police station said Paisley died from a blow to the head.”

  Bing frowned. “And what motive would she have?”

  They were right. It was ridiculous to think that Maisie had committed this crime. But what motive did Kenny have? Paisley had been helping him, so why would he want to kill her?

  Was there a third person involved that I hadn’t considered?

  I didn’t have much time to think about it, because the door opened and Brenda Parrish rushed in.

  “Willa! Oh, I’m so glad you’re okay! I heard about your accident and was surprised to see the store open. You weren’t hurt too badly, then?”

  My heart warmed. I only knew Brenda from being a judge on the art committee with her. It was nice of her to come in and ask about my welfare. That’s what I liked about small towns. Everyone cared about everyone else. Well, when they weren’t killing them or setting fire to their businesses.

  “Not too badly, thanks for asking.”

  “I heard you were run down deliberately? Did you see who did it? Do the police have any leads?” A deep crease formed in between her brows as her eyes looked me over, apparently searching for injuries.

  I shook my head. “I didn’t see the driver. Just that it was a black truck. Your guess is as good as mine as to who it could be.”

  Brenda’s eyes widened. “I would have no idea who it would be. Do you think it has something to do with what happened at the photography shop?” She glanced across the street at Paisley’s shop.

  “Maybe.” I followed her glance. Even though it was nice to have everyone concerned about me, I wished they would leave. I wanted to get into Paisley’s shop and look for the cat that might be injured, not to mention check out the shop for clues to the killer.

  But, it looked like I wasn’t going to be able to do that any time soon because a familiar figure was stomping down the street toward my store. Gus.

  Gus whipped open the door and stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips, her amber eyes piercing me with a glare. “Just what are you doing in here? You should be at home resti
ng.”

  I waved my hand dismissively. “I feel fine. I’ve got work to do. The bills don’t pay themselves, you know.”

  Gus glanced over her shoulder at Paisley’s store. “Are you sure that’s what it is? Work? You sure you’re not here to try to do some investigating?”

  I raised my brows. “Investigating?”

  She wagged her finger at me. “I’m telling you, Willa, you should leave things to the police. We know what we’re doing. We don’t need an amateur getting in the way.”

  I bristled at the word ‘amateur’. I had, after all, been a crime journalist in my past career. If Gus wanted to trade barbs, then it was game on. “Well, amateur investigating would be a nice hobby. Can you think of any other hobbies that might be interesting?” I fixed Gus with my most innocent look.

  The look of alarm on her face made the corners of my lips twitch in a semi-smile. My discovery of her piano playing hobby was already paying off.

  Gus sighed. “I’m just telling you for your own good. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “You should listen to Gus,” Josiah said. “We don’t want anything happening to you.”

  Cordelia nodded. “I’m sure the police are more than capable of figuring out who was downtown at the time of Paisley’s death.”

  “That’s right. I hear it happened around nine thirty at night and there can’t be too many people who would be downtown at that time.” Hattie chuckled. “This town rolls up the sidewalks at seven.”

  Brenda laughed. “It sure does, which is why the people in Paisley’s shop stood out so distinctly that night.”

  “What night?” we all asked.

  Brenda looked flummoxed. “Tuesday.”

  Gus zeroed in on her like a hawk zeroing in on a baby rabbit. “Tuesday? The night Paisley died? You saw someone in there that night around nine?”

  “Was Tuesday the night Paisley died? I didn’t realize… “ Brenda’s voice trailed off and she screwed up her face, then she continued on. “Yes, I’m sure it was Tuesday that I saw them. I remember because I had to pick up a prescription at Lake’s pharmacy and I know the time was nine fifteen because I’d just gotten out of choir practice and had to rush over to get the prescription before they closed at nine thirty. You can ask Sadie at the pharmacy. She’s the one who pointed it out to me, because it was unusual for any of the shops to be open at that time.”