Лейганн Доббс - A Purrfect Alibi

“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 is 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.”