Лейганн Доббс - A Whisker In The Dark

Mom munched on another cookie. “I wonder if doing something entailed killing him.”

“Yeah, what if it did?” I said. “Thing is, it seems like the cheese company isn’t doing very well and they’re all blaming each other. It could’ve been any of them.”

“Yeah, but now we have two suspects who we heard arguing with the victim. And we can do something that Seth can’t do.” Millie snapped off a bite of the cookie. “We can interview them one-on-one and try to trip them up so they confess.”

Mom smiled and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds like fun. I say we start right away.”

Nero sat under the kitchen table and aimed his gaze at Josie, willing her to understand his attempts at communication. Unfortunately, she was more interested in the conversation she was having with her mother and Millie about the suspect list.

“Doesn’t matter how hard you stare at her, she’s never going to be able to read your mind. Humans are just not that advanced,” Marlowe said.

Nero sighed and trotted over to his favorite spot near the pantry where Millie had put two plush cat beds. He hopped into the blue one and curled up. “I know, but I wish we could tell them that we overheard Earl and Bob arguing.”

“Then they could add Earl to their suspect list.” Marlowe hopped up onto the counter. The humans weren’t paying any attention, so she trotted over to the sink and tilted her head under the faucet to catch a drip of water. Fresh water out of the tap always tasted so delicious it was worth the risk of getting swatted at. “We’ll just have to figure out a way to clue them in so that they get the idea into their heads on their own.”

“But how? We can’t show them an argument. We’ll have to find something that points to Earl.” Nero licked his front paw. “And we need to enlist the aid of the others to skulk around town keeping their eyes open for anything suspicious and listening in on conversations. The killer could be anyone who was here last night.”

“Plenty of suspects on that roster.” Marlowe jumped down from the counter and hopped into the tan cat bed beside Nero. “Do you think this has anything to do with the confession Juliette heard? She said something about a woman who was going to betray her family. Perhaps Millie’s theory about Paula being the killer is correct.”

“Well, it could be. I know one thing though, it’s not Flora. She’s like family and we’ll protect her like we would protect Millie,” Nero said.

“Sure, but her shoes did smell kind of funny just now.”

“But they didn’t smell like murder. More smoke.”

“Maybe she stepped in some cheese? A little slice of smoked Gouda. I think I saw Carla bring some into her room.”

“Flora could have come into contact with it while cleaning, but we’ll inspect their rooms thoroughly later today when they are out. Perhaps there will be some cheese morsels we can appropriate for ourselves. Purely for investigative purposes, of course. We would never steal from the guests,” Nero said.

“Of course.”

“Naturally, we must protect the reputation of the guesthouse and make sure the blame for this does not fall onto Josie or Flora. I wouldn’t put it past that Seth Chamberlain to try to accuse one of them,” Nero said.

“Ah, come on. We know Seth isn’t that bad. He feeds us doughnut holes when no one else is looking.”

“Exactly. That’s what he does when no one is looking but right now everyone will be looking to see that he solves this case and there is an eyewitness pointing the finger at Flora. If he takes the easy way out, he could throw Flora in jail.”

Marlowe nodded. “We need to help Millie, Rose and Josie figure out how to point him in another direction.”

“Preferably not Josie’s though.” Nero winced as Millie scraped her chair back. It made an ungodly noise, at least to his sensitive cat ears. It didn’t seem to bother the humans any though.

Millie went to the recipe box on the counter and started to leaf through the recipes. That meant baking. Well fine. The humans could leisurely sit around baking all day but Nero didn’t have that luxury. A killer was loose and he had to help catch them. He stood and stretched.

“Come on. Let’s go down to the bait wharf and get this investigation rolling.”

Thirteen

“Just how do you propose we interrogate the family?” my mother asked Millie, who was pawing through the recipes looking for the perfect one for the town celebration. Unfortunately, I hadn’t had the presence of mind to hide the remains of my burned peanut-butter-banana loaf, and Millie had seen it in the trash.

Millie had her lips pressed together and was squinting at the cards as she flipped through them. She stopped and then pulled one out. “Yes, this is the one, the apple-pecan bread.” She looked at me and nodded, her eyes sparkling. “That’s the one, Josie. It’s a showstopper. Now let me see if we have the ingredients.”

She bustled over to the cabinets, pulling out the flour, sugar, baking soda, salt, a bag of pecans and a bottle of vanilla vodka. She had pulled some apples and a pitcher of orange juice out of the fridge, then turned to me. “Do you have any champagne?”

“Champagne and vodka?” my mother asked. “Do you put those in the apple-pecan bread?”

“No. Those are for Paula. I think she’s making up that story about seeing Flora, and what better way to trip her up than to get her drunk?” Millie said. “And we all know she likes her drinks. I was thinking maybe we could cut her from the herd, serve her a complimentary vanilla mimosa and get her to confess.”

It sounded like a good plan to me, and, luckily, I did have some champagne on hand in the butler’s pantry. I knew one little drink wasn’t going to loosen Paula’s tongue much, so I proceeded to make a pitcher of mimosas. I might’ve taken a little sip or two for myself. I needed to steady my nerves. After all, it was a bit disconcerting that another body had shown up on the property.

Seth Chamberlain was taking people’s statements in the reading room. He had the pocket doors shut, and, try as we might, we couldn’t hear much through them.

“They sure don’t make things like they used to. These doors are solid,” Mom said as we pressed our ears to the door.

“Yeah, too bad,” Millie added. “Oh well, let’s find Paula, that will be much more enlightening than eavesdropping on Seth’s investigation.”

We found Paula sitting alone in the back parlor. The back parlor was a cozy room with overstuffed chairs and pillows in blue-and-yellow accents. Mike had painted the walls pale yellow and I’d had the pine floors refinished so they glowed like warm honey. The room wasn’t used much because it didn’t exactly have a nice view right now as it overlooked the gardens, which were an overgrown mess of tangles. Eventually, I would spruce them up, but now it was mostly weeds and dead flowers. Paula didn’t seem to mind, though. She was sitting in the chair, her blank gaze fixed at something outside the window.

Perhaps her somber mood was due to guilt over killing her brother and she’d break down and confess right away. That would be convenient for me, avoiding a long, drawn-out investigation with the police traipsing through my guesthouse.

“That dreadful sheriff has already taken my statement. It was so stressful.” Paula lifted a shaky cup of tea to her lips.

“I know, dear,” Millie clucked and sat down beside her. I set the silver tray with the pitcher and a champagne flute on the table beside Millie, and she poured a mimosa and held it out to Paula. “We’ve prepared a little something for you to settle your nerves.”

Paula’s eyes lit up. She grabbed the glass, settled back into the chair and chugged the whole thing down.