Лейганн Доббс - A Whisker In The Dark

How did he know that? Had he been spying on us?

“They just happened to be there too.” Millie averted her gaze and pretended like she was checking on the loaf pan.

“Interesting. I just hope you aren’t up to something you shouldn’t be. The sheriff is perfectly capable of conducting an investigation.”

Millie sighed. “Of course he is. You don’t think we’re trying to figure out who killed Bob Biddeford on our own, do you? I mean if we were, we’d ask for your help.”

Mike didn’t look like he was buying Millie’s song and dance in the least.

“He should join forces with ushh and weed find the killers fashter ,” Mom slurred. Her head was resting on her arms atop the table but she’d turned it sideways to look at us.

“Aha!” Mike said. “I knew it.”

“Knew what? We’re just baking a loaf cake.” I pointed at the oven. “She’s drunk. Doesn’t know what she’s saying.”

Mom frowned at me but was smart enough to hold her tongue.

“I’m not the enemy here and I’m not trying to ruin your fun. I just don’t want you to get hurt. Any of you.” His eyes drifted from Mom to Millie and then settled on me. “You’re all very precious to me.”

“Don’t worry, dear. We’ll be careful,” Millie said. “I don’t need to remind you that Rose, Josie and I are mature adults and don’t need you telling us what to do.”

Mike threw up his hands in exasperation. “Fine. I know I can’t tell you what to do. But I just hope you won’t get into any serious trouble.”

He pinned me with his gaze, but to his credit didn’t elaborate as to how we should back off on the investigation—or worse—how we should leave it to a professional like him.

“Yes, dear, and thank you for bringing Rose back.” Millie pushed him out the door. “I know you’re very busy downtown with your new job and all, so we’ll let you get back to it.”

Mike paused at the door and turned to me. “I’ll be back later to double-check the foundation and walls under the conservatory.”

He would? That was news to me. “Now? Ed won’t be starting in there for a while.”

He looked at me funny. “I think you might be focusing too much on investigating and not enough on what is going on in your own guesthouse. Some structural work was done to the walls already and I need to make sure it didn’t effect anything because of the weird way they constructed that room.”

Again, news to me. “What weird way?” Wait! Ed had already done something in there?

“When they added the conservatory, they used the wall of an existing barn that was adjacent to the house. That old barn had been original to the property. Did you notice that the foundation underneath is giant slabs of granite?”

I nodded.

“You can’t find those anymore. Anyway, since that existing wall and foundation is so old, I want to check the structural integrity before too much more work gets done.” Mike glanced at his watch then grimaced. “Gotta run. Have to inspect an addition over at the old Dunkirk place.”

Mike shot a smile in my direction and went out the door as I digested this new tidbit of information. Not only had Ed lied about being in the conservatory, but the foundation and one of the walls dated back to Jed’s time. My thoughts drifted back to the conversation between the Biddefords right after we’d discovered the skeleton. They’d been talking about looking for a map and wondering if one could have been in the wall with Jed. Doris had said she’d looked in there pretty good, but she hadn’t seen a map and since they’d all arrived at the same time none of them could have taken it without the others seeing. The thing was, there was one person who had been there before any of us and that person could have taken the map. Ed.

I looked up at my mother and Millie, a feeling of dread blooming in my stomach. “I think we better go talk to Ed.”

Nero, Marlowe and the other cats crouched under an azalea bush, inspecting the shovel that protruded halfway out of the ground. There was no doubt why it had been buried. The coppery scent of blood and murderous intent hung maliciously in the air. A faint breeze rustled the leaves, the only sound breaking the silence as the cats watched Harry carefully brush away some of the dirt.

Nero was proud of Harry and the others. They’d sniffed around the grounds and uncovered this valuable clue, then ran to gather him and Marlowe from the guesthouse. Now, it had been carefully uncovered just enough so that they could lead the humans over to discover it on their own.

“Yep, that’s the murder weapon all right.” Harry sat back on his haunches and licked his paw, clearly satisfied with his own detective work.

“I can smell Bob’s blood on the end.” Juliette’s face wrinkled in distaste. “But I don’t smell the woman who made the confession.”

“So she’s not the killer.” Nero paced around the shovel, sniffing at it from all angles. Some of it was still buried, but his superior senses could sniff out the lingering scents even below the earth. Unfortunately, those scents did not provide clues as to who had wielded the weapon.

Marlowe glanced back in the direction of the guesthouse. “How are we going to get Josie out here to find a shovel?”

“Good question,” Nero said.

Boots looked at him with his usual air of superiority and Nero resisted the urge to hiss at the other cat. He knew Boots was mostly jealous of Nero’s superior skills of deduction, not to mention that Nero had white tuxedo markings on his chest while Boots only had white on his paws. The tuxedo gave Nero a debonair air and Boots had always been a little jealous.

“I thought Josie was starting to come around?” Stubbs said.

Nero sighed. “She is a work in progress. She is starting to become aware of our communication attempts. Why, just this morning I pushed her toward a clue about Carla Biddeford’s mug and I know for a fact she understood the mug was a clue.”

“She’s not up to speed yet though,” Marlowe added. “Last night she misconstrued our communications and even though she knew the mug was a clue, we aren’t sure she realized what we meant by it.”

“True,” Nero mused. “Perhaps it would be best if we try to bring Millie.”

“Millie is certainly a possibility.” Boots tugged at his whiskers. “But does Millie have enough clues to figure out who the killer is?”

Juliette swiped her paw toward the shovel. “The murder weapon seems like a big enough clue. I’m sure the police can do forensics on it and figure out who the killer is.”

Boots sniffed and turned up his nose. “Their lab tests are far inferior to our feline senses.”

“Is that so?” Harry asked. “Then you tell me. Who is the killer?”

“Well… err…” Boots glanced around the area. “There isn’t enough evidence to say. Having said that, are we sure Millie will even want to present the murder weapon to Sheriff Chamberlain?”

“What do you mean, will she want to? Of course she will, because it may prove who the killer is,” Marlowe said.

“Precisely my point,” Boots said. “What if the killer is someone Millie does not want revealed? Someone she is very close to and has a vested interest in protecting.”

Nero’s heart dropped at the thought. Normally he would never even think that Millie would shield a killer from the law. But Millie was loyal to those she loved and Nero knew that Sheriff Chamberlain had Flora on his suspect list. But it couldn’t be Flora, Nero was sure of it. He was a good judge of character and beneath Flora’s gruff exterior was a kind heart. Never mind that she’d lied about a few things and never mind that her shoes had smelled like burned loaf cakes. She simply couldn’t be the killer. But that begged the question… who was?