Лейганн Доббс - A Whisker In The Dark

“I hope Jed’s ghost doesn’t show up here.” Paula scanned the crowd. “Though I guess he won’t be after me. I didn’t take any treasure. I wonder if Bob did? And if he did maybe Jed took it back because no one’s found it yet and Bob certainly didn’t take it with him. So if Jed took it, there won’t be any more killings because he’ll have his treasure and the curse will be broken.”

Paula’s train of thought was pretty logical even if it was a bit rambling, but my mother glanced over at her as if she were crazy. “I doubt it was Jed who killed Bob.”

“Well, that’s the rumor I heard,” Paula huffed. “Who else could it be? Certainly not your maid that I saw running from the scene. She’s too old, now that I think of it.” Paula frowned as if considering her own words. “Or maybe it was your maid. Some of those old people are pretty strong.”

Flora had been acting strangely. I had no idea if she actually was strong enough to have clobbered Bob, but I saw her move the antique carved-mahogany couch out from the wall to get behind it with the vacuum, so she was pretty strong. And what was this business with the vacation?

But if Flora had stolen the treasure why would she still be hanging around the guesthouse? Unless she hadn’t actually found the treasure and Bob’s murder was for nothing. What was I thinking? Flora wouldn’t kill someone, no matter how valuable a treasure was involved.

Up ahead at Myron’s table, I saw a familiar figure lurking about. Annabel Drescher stood in front of one of the plastic displays that held interest-rate information. She snatched a pamphlet out and looked around furtively. I caught her eye and waved, but she pretended not to notice me. Maybe she didn’t want to be seen associating with someone whose maid was accused of murder?

“Looks like Arlene has some competition.” Paula’s gaze was pinned on Annabel as she walked away. “Fancy duds and even shoes like Earl’s.”

Wait, what? I swivel around to check out Annabel’s shoes. Paula was right, they were Italian leather similar to Earl’s. Suddenly I was second-guessing my Carla–Myron theory. Maybe Flora wasn’t lying about the vacation. But why would Annabel make that up… unless she was trying to cover something up or distract us.

“Oh look, you can get a home-equity line of credit for three percent, maybe you should tap into that for the renovations?” Millie’s comment redirected my attention from Annabel to Myron’s table.

Paula inspected the pamphlets closer, her eyes clouding over in confusion. “Where are the tickets for the beer tent?”

“Beer tent?” Myron’s eyes darted from Paula to me. “Are you interested in a loan?”

I glanced around for Seth. Millie had said he’d be meeting us here and we had to stall until he showed up so we could get Paula to identify the shoes in front of him. Mom jabbed me in the ribs and jerked her head toward the big display touting the low-interest-rate loans. Guess that would be a good way to stall.

“As a matter fact I am,” I said. It wasn’t totally a lie, either. Extra money would help me complete the renovations sooner. Too bad I didn’t actually have much money to make the payments until business picked up. It was a catch twenty-two. I needed the loan to accommodate more guests, but I needed more guests to pay the monthly rate on the loan. “You know, I have that whole west wing over at the Oyster Cove Guesthouse and the sooner I can get it renovated the sooner I can get more guests in. Do you have anything special, preferably with a delayed payment schedule?”

Approval radiated from Millie at my quick reaction, but before Myron could launch into his spiel, Seth showed up.

“Hello, ladies.” Seth nodded at each of us, but his gaze lingered on Millie.

“I made your favorites, Seth.” Millie held up the bag of cookies and opened it, tipping the bag forward so we could all see inside. She tipped the bag further forward, letting one cookie slide out onto the grass as if by accident. “Oh, dear me. I’ve dropped one.”

She dropped to her knees and made a show of rooting around in the grass under the table for the cookie. “What lovely shoes, Myron. You’re always such a sharp dresser.”

Myron tugged at his tie uncomfortably, a look of confusion crossing his face. “Um… thanks.”

Millie tugged on Paula’s arm. It didn’t take much to get her to stumble and Millie pulled her down so she could see Myron’s shoes. “Aren’t those lovely, Paula?”

“Sure, they’re very nice but I don’t see any beer-tent tickets.”

“We’ll get to the beer tent. Don’t you worry about that. But do these shoes look a little familiar to you?” Millie asked.

Myron shot up from his seat. “What is the meaning of this? Why are you so interested in my shoes?”

Seth was watching carefully. He might seem like a dunderhead, but he actually could be rather sharp sometimes. He’d caught on that Millie had an ulterior motive here and was smart enough to keep quiet and see where this would lead. Perhaps all of Mom and Millie’s meddling in his investigations really had given him respect for their skills.

“Familiar?” Paula stumbled to her feet and glanced around behind us. “If there’s no tickets I’m just going to—”

“Take another look, Paula,” Millie said. “I think these might be the shoes that woke you up the night Bob was murdered.”

Paula’s eyes widened. She bent down again to look at the shoes. She scrunched up her face, closed her eyes and then opened them one at a time. “Well, they are fine Italian leather like the ones I saw. Very similar. Let me see the backs. I mostly saw the backs as the person was running away.”

“I certainly will not.” Myron looked at Seth. “Do I have to?”

Seth shrugged. “What’s the harm? Unless you have something to hide.”

Myron marched out from behind the table and spun around.

Paula nodded. “Yep very similar to the shoes I saw.”

“Similar? Or are they exactly the shoes?” Seth asked.

“Well, I can’t say for sure. I mean I was just waking up and my memory is fuzzy. There are a lot of fancy shoes like these, in fact I saw a woman wearing similar shoes earlier.” Paula glanced in the direction that Annabel had gone.

“She’s not a reliable witness. I heard that she’s drunk all the time!” Myron said.

“I’m not drunk all the time.” Paula crossed her arms over her chest.

“I demand to know what this is about.” Myron looked at Seth.

“Paula saw someone running from where the murder happened and they wore expensive shoes,” Seth said. “Apparently Millie here is playing amateur detective and thinks Paula might recognize the shoes as yours.”

“Running from where the murder happened? But that was centuries ago, why I couldn’t…” Myron’s face relaxed a little. “Oh! You mean the recent murder, not the skeleton they found in the wall.”

“Of course. That’s what we’re investigating. Can’t really investigate a murder from three centuries ago.”

Myron blew out a breath. “Well that’s ridiculous. Why would I kill one of the Biddefords?”

“You have a family connection to the Biddefords,” Mom said.

Myron made a face. “Yeah, about three hundred years back. What would that have to do with anything recent?”

“There was treasure rumored to be buried there,” Millie said. “Maybe one of your ancestors knew where it was and when you went to dig it up Bob had gotten there first.”

Myron laughed. “You believe that treasure rumor? What would I want with some old moldy treasure chest that probably doesn’t have anything of modern value in it? I have plenty of money. I own a bank. And besides, I wouldn’t waste my time. That treasure doesn’t even exist according to my family lore.”