A Whisker in the Dark

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A Whisker in the Dark Page 11

by Leighann Dobbs


  “Did she say when she was going on this trip?” I asked. Flora hadn’t mentioned any plans, which made me a little suspicious. What was going on with her? Of course, I couldn’t imagine that she’d have killed Bob but where would Flora have gotten the money for a trip? She was always complaining about how hard it was to survive on social security and a maid’s wages. As far as I knew, she was broke.

  “You know she was a little vague about that when I asked. Said she’d have to come into a lot of money to afford it. But she must’ve been expecting some soon because why else would she be asking about a specific place?” Annabel shrugged and smiled, showing her ultra-white teeth, just like the ones Jaws showed right before he tried to eat the boat. “I don’t try to force them. Whenever someone comes in with a hankering for a vacation I know sooner or later they’re gonna buy.”

  I exchanged a glance with Mom and Millie. This was not looking good. Flora thought she might come into some money, Paula claimed to have seen her rushing away from the scene of the crime, and Flora had denied that. What if Seth’s theory about Bob finding the treasure and someone killing him over it was true? And what if that someone really had been Flora?

  I didn’t have long to think about it because a voice boomed from behind us.

  “Heard about the goings-on at your place!” We all spun around to see Myron Remington standing there looking superior. “Seems like you’re racking up the bodies like nobody’s business. Maybe you should get a loan for a new wing. A mortuary wing.”

  “I don’t think that’s anything to make jokes about, Myron,” Millie said.

  “No joke, actually. I really could give you a loan. I have some great rates right now and I’d love to see that old place fully restored.”

  I eyed him suspiciously and thought about taking on a loan. On the one hand, it would be great to get the house done in one fell swoop, instead of working on it a little at a time, but I was also maxed out on monthly bills. I couldn’t pay the note on a loan no matter how good the interest rate was. “I’ll think about it, Myron.”

  He nodded. “Hey, how is the investigation going on that skeleton? Did I hear it ended up being Jedediah Biddeford?”

  “That’s what Seth says, but there’s not much of an investigation going on. My daughter pointed out we could have a forensic anthropologist look into the old bones. Might be able to tell us more.” I couldn’t help the tinge of pride that snuck into my voice at the mention of Emma’s suggestion. Maybe I should suggest that idea to Seth, though not right now. In light of finding another body on my property, it would be best to steer clear of Seth Chamberlain and avoid making him feel like I was telling him how to do his job.

  “That seems like it would be quite a waste, doesn’t it?” Myron fiddled with his silk paisley tie. “You know how I hate wasting money.”

  “Well it wouldn’t actually be your money, Myron, but yes it does seem like a waste,” Millie said.

  “Speaking of your money, did I hear you were in my yard trying to find the treasure last night?” I asked.

  Myron looked taken aback. “Treasure? No. Why would I dig up treasure? I own a bank.”

  “So you weren’t in my yard? With Stella Dumont?”

  He looked sharply over at Stella’s table and she turned her back on him. “I should certainly say not. I couldn’t even get a shovel to dig up treasure if I wanted. Your maid Flora got the last one.”

  Fifteen

  Since I was already in town, I figured I’d visit Jen. I’d been so busy lately that we’d rarely gotten a chance to talk. I wanted to catch up. Okay, I admit that I had an ulterior motive. The post office was rumor central and I wanted to get some insider information on what people were saying about the murder.

  Jen was standing about five feet from the open slots on the postmaster side of the post-office boxes with a stack of letters in her hand. She was oblivious to the fact that someone had come in, her concentration aimed at pitching each letter into its rightful post-box slot like she was practicing for darts.

  Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. Each letter made a hollow sound as it slid, hitting the slot door on the other side.

  She noticed me as I approached the desk because she stopped pitching and turned, her mouth quirking in a smile.

  “Oh, thank goodness. Someone to talk to. It gets so boring in here and I have to make up little games to keep myself amused.” She gestured toward the post-office boxes. “So, what’s up?”

  “I just came down to check out my table under the tent. Millie is obsessing about having a good presentation.”

  Jen’s face turned serious and she reached out and patted my forearm, which I had rested on the counter. “I heard about the murder. Are you okay?”

  “Sure. Never let a little thing like murder in my guesthouse get me down. I might be getting used to it.”

  “Well, let’s hope it doesn’t become a common occurrence.” Jen’s concerned eyes turned inquisitive. “Any idea who did it?”

  I glanced around to make sure we really were alone. The post office had a lot of nooks and crannies and you never knew where someone might be lurking around reading the magazines or fliers they’d gotten before tossing them in the recycling bins. No one was around. “I think it might be one of his siblings. Can you believe one of them tried to pin it on Flora?” I said.

  “Flora? No way.” Her eyes narrowed. “Do you think that person was trying to divert suspicion away from themselves?”

  “Possibly.” I picked a candy out of the bowl that sat on top of the counter. Hershey’s Kisses. If I had that on my counter the bowl would be empty in about five minutes. “What are people saying?”

  Jen shot me a mischievous look. “First tell me what’s going on with you and Mike. I heard he was the one who discovered the body so that means he must have been at your place very early this morning.”

  I rolled my eyes. My mother and Millie weren’t the only ones meddling in my non-existent love life. Jen had been wanting to see Mike and I get back together since I moved back to town. Not happening.

  “Yes, he was there.” I let my voice trail off and gave her a coquettish look just to yank her chain. I almost felt bad at the hopeful gleam in her eye.

  “I knew it! Did he stay over?”

  I drew it out, popping another Hershey Kiss in my mouth and pretending to be too busy chewing to answer. Jen was practically jumping out of her black government-issued shoes with anticipation.

  I swallowed and smiled. “Nah. He was just there to inspect the toolshed. That’s why he was down near the pond.”

  “I heard it was in the pond. But you’re sure he didn’t fall in and drown on his own?”

  “Nope. The back of his skull was crushed.”

  I gave her the Reader’s Digest condensed version of finding the body and what had gone on this morning, with Seth interrogating people and how Paula had claimed to see Flora coming up the path from the pond.

  “Flora? She wouldn’t harm a fly. She’s a great-grandmother, for crying out loud.”

  “I know.” I pressed my lips together. Of course Flora wouldn’t kill anyone. She was loyal, trustworthy and a good worker. Okay, scratch that part about a good worker. She was loyal and trustworthy though. And I couldn’t picture her bashing someone over the head with a shovel, especially with those scrawny arms of hers. But still, something didn’t sit right. There were a few disturbing, unanswered questions when it came to Flora.

  “She has been acting a little odd lately. Did you hear anything about her going on a trip?” I asked.

  Jen shook her head. “But I wouldn’t necessarily hear about that.”

  “True.” Not everyone gave Jen their itinerary, though most people going on a trip had their mail stopped. Flora lived in an apartment and would probably have a neighbor or her landlord collect it. So, unless Flora was going with someone who might create a scandal, the post-office grapevine would find her trip uninteresting.

  “Do they have any other suspects?” Jen peeled a stamp off
a stamp sheet and pressed it onto an envelope, then tossed the envelope into a mailbag.

  “I’m not sure. Seth probably suspects me, though.”

  Jen laughed. “What motive would you have?”

  “None, but he was looking at me with suspicion. Remember he thought I killed the last person too.”

  “Only because you own the guesthouse now and were out of town for a long time and he thought you killed the last victim because he was going to give the guesthouse a bad review. But it really does come down to motive, doesn’t it? I heard that Seth thought perhaps someone killed Bob to take the treasure away from him. Do you think he dug something up?” Jen asked.

  “Did you hear anything about any treasure through the grapevine?” If someone had the treasure, chances were someone else knew about it and sooner or later that person would talk. I doubted there actually was any treasure though or that Bob had dug it up. If he had, wouldn’t the hole—or at least evidence of digging it—have still been there?

  “You don’t really believe that whole treasure curse thing, do you?” Jen asked.

  “No. You?”

  “Nope. But some people do. I’ve heard a few people say that old Jedediah killed Bob to make good on his curse.”

  “If that were the case, then Bob would still have had the treasure in his possession. Unless they think a ghost took it away.”

  Jen laughed. “With some of the folks here, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  “No, I think this murder was done by someone on the earthly plane. Someone closer to the victim.”

  “You mean like his family?”

  I nodded. “Bob had threatened several of them. The business isn’t going well and apparently they were all at odds.”

  Jen nodded. “Typically the victim knows the killer.” She watched a lot of crime shows on TV.

  “You haven’t heard any rumors about anyone in town knowing Bob from before, have you?”

  Jen slapped another stamp on an envelope and tossed it in the bag. “Nope.”

  “Anyone come to town asking around for him? He’s getting a divorce, but his wife is supposed to be in Europe.”

  Jen’s left brow rose. “An estranged wife? Sounds like a person with a motive. Unfortunately, I haven’t heard of anyone looking for him. The only people asking about the Biddefords are those interested in the skeleton you found. That seems to have raised everyone’s curiosity. Even Myron Remington was in here asking about the investigation.”

  “He was asking me too, but Sheriff Chamberlain isn’t going to investigate Jedediah’s death. I mean, how can he?”

  “The clues are too old and a fresh murder would take priority, I imagine,” Jen said. “Myron’s family has history here. Maybe he was more interested in the historical aspect or maybe he’s one of those creepy serial-killer ghouls who is fascinated with skeletons and bodies.”

  Jen had an excited look on her face as she said this. I started to worry that maybe she’d been watching too many crime shows.

  “He always was a little weird. I think he might have only been feigning interest so he could make googly eyes at Stella Dumont.”

  “He was making googly eyes at Stella?” The dramatic look on Jen’s face was replaced by skepticism.

  “Millie said she saw them together last night on the grounds when everyone was digging.”

  Jen waggled her brows. “Together, together?”

  The thought made my lips purse like I’d eaten a sour lemon. “Ugh… did you have to put that image in my head? I think they were just talking. She seemed to imply they were an item but then today Myron denied even being there. Said it was beneath his dignity and he had plenty of money already.”

  “Sounds like something he would say. He always acted superior especially since he went to a better college than the rest of us. Maybe his business isn’t doing well and he needs an influx of money but doesn’t want anyone to know. He always was worried about appearances.”

  “Or maybe he wanted to hide the fact he really was with Stella.”

  “Well I wouldn’t be surprised if Stella was trying to hook Myron. He has the money and you know how she likes to go for that.”

  “True.”

  “At least she won’t be going for Mike if she’s after Myron. Not that Mike would give her the time of day,” Jen said slyly.

  This time I didn’t bite. “Well, I better get going. During the interrogations someone got Millie’s grandmother’s doily dirty and I want to make sure it’s clean before I get home.”

  “Shouldn’t Flora do that?” Jen asked.

  I raised my eyebrows in response and she laughed. “Oh yeah, what was I thinking?” She picked up her big pile of envelopes as I turned to leave. “Well one thing at least, you won’t have to worry about people coming over to dig more holes in your yard tonight.”

  That was welcome news since I was starting to worry about how to control the hole diggers. I didn’t need another one ending up dead. “Why is that?”

  “Everyone is scared off because of the curse. I told you, a lot of folks think Jedediah Biddeford made good on his promise. They think he already killed one person digging up his treasure and no one else wants to be next.”

  Sixteen

  “Searching rooms is exhausting,” Nero said as he flopped down in a pool of sunshine in the conservatory.

  “The actual searching is fun, but it’s tedious timing things so precisely so that we can get in and out,” Marlowe said. “I mean, waiting around until someone opens the door then darting inside without being noticed and then making sure we don’t get trapped inside. Sneaking out when the door is open…”

  “It’s risky if we have to resort to the old meowing incessantly to go in and then out and then in again trick,” Nero said.

  “Good thing we know some secret passages in this old place.”

  “Too bad all our efforts were for nothing, though. We didn’t find a thing.”

  “We did get to sample some of that Gouda Paula had in her room,” Marlowe said. “Good thing Gouda doesn’t need to be refrigerated, I would hate to have it mess with my digestion.”

  Nero shot Marlowe a recriminating look. “I think you got a little overzealous with that sculpture by the way, I hope she doesn’t notice that the ears are missing from the smaller bunny.”

  Paula had made a sculpture of a grassy field with rabbits. It was actually rather nice and the little blades of grass were perfect for nibbling without anyone noticing. Of course, Marlowe had to get greedy and go for one of the ears. Hopefully Paula would just think she’d bitten them in a drunken fog or maybe blame one of her siblings.

  Marlowe turned away, appropriately embarrassed. “Perhaps I did get a bit carried away. I was frustrated that our search didn’t turn up any evidence.”

  Nero had shown Marlowe some of his most-valued methods of clue detection, yet they had not found anything. “At least Flora cleaned Earl and Arlene’s room. That woman has been quite obnoxious about it.”

  “She sure was. I hope they find out that she’s the killer. I don’t like her at all,” Marlowe said.

  “I don’t actually like many of the Biddefords. I mean, what kind of family argues all the time? Family should stick by each other, not be at each other’s throats,” Nero reflected. “I guess Doris is okay, but then I do have a fondness for older humans.”

  Marlowe trotted over to the potted ficus trees and started sniffing. “Hey, did you dig over here again? There’s dirt all over the floor. Josie is not going to like that. Or did you do that on purpose to keep her in line?” Marlowe glanced over her shoulder at Nero.

  Nero’s whiskers twitched. What was the young cat talking about? He sighed and got up from his warm spot to see.

  “I didn’t dig here. If I was to spew dirt to keep Josie in line, I would make it much more obvious and spread it all over the room like this.” Nero swatted at a large clump of dirt and it skidded out into the middle of the room breaking up into smaller pieces. “See, now that piece Josie
would be able to see from the doorway. You need to be more obvious with these things.”

  “Me? I didn’t mess with the dirt.” Marlowe cocked her head and looked at one of the boarded-up windows. “I do think someone has been here though.”

  They trotted over to the window and sniffed. “Smells like fresh wood and nails.” Something in the corner caught Nero’s eye and he snaked his paw out and batted it around. A shiny new nail.

  “Ed must have been here. But why would he dig in the plant?”

  “Beats me, but it looks like someone did. Maybe it was one of the guests.”

  “Either that or we’ve got another cat in here, and I think if we had another cat one of us would know.”

  Nero laughed. Of course his superior senses would have alerted them to an intruder cat.

  “It is curious. Sadly, these humans must be dumber than I thought. Surely they aren’t stupid enough to think the treasure is buried in a potted plant?”

  Marlowe trotted over and lay in the sunny spot under the window. Curling her tail around her and closing her eyes she muttered, “Don’t ask me, I wouldn’t put anything past them. Maybe it wasn’t one of them, maybe it was that dead guy’s ghost. I heard people saying downtown they believe he’s here.”

  Nero snorted. “Hardly. We’d have been able to sense a ghost too.”

  Nero looked at the dirt a few seconds more before joining Marlowe in the sun. Something was definitely odd about this whole business. Maybe a nap would help. He’d seen Josie at the town common earlier in the day and had a funny feeling she might be heading down the wrong path. He needed to reroute her by showing her clues that would lead to the real killer… too bad he had no idea who that was.

  After my visit with Jen, I hurried back to the guesthouse. If Flora hadn’t cleaned Millie’s great-grandmother’s doily, I wanted to be sure I got it done right away. I should clean all the doilies really. They’d been here for a couple hundred years and I didn’t want one to be cleaner than the others. How did you clean a doily anyway? Could you put it in the washing machine with bleach? Maybe I should ask Flora. No. She didn’t seem to know a lot about cleaning. Hand washing was probably best.

 

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