Лейганн Доббс - A Twist In The Tail

‘Of course not,’ Seth said, glancing my way again. ‘I also don’t want to let the killer get away.’

‘Now Seth, you can’t seriously suspect Josie. And besides, where would she go? Josie owns the guesthouse. She’s tied to the area. It’s not like she’s going to run off somewhere.’

I nodded vigorously in agreement.

‘What are you doing here anyway?’ Millie changed the subject.

‘Huh? Oh, I was coming to release the crime scene. We’ve got everything we need and I’m coming to take off the yellow tape. Personal belongings in there can be sent to the next of kin.’

Millie’s brows shot up. ‘Oh? And have you gotten any clues? Have you a list of suspects?’

Seth gave me another wary glance. ‘We’re working on some angles, but I can’t specifically say. Police business you know.’

‘Indeed.’ Millie nodded. ‘And did you find a clue in Charles Prescott’s cookbook?’

‘Cookbook? We don’t have any cookbook.’

‘You mean you don’t have his notes for his new book that he was writing?’ I asked.

‘New book? We didn’t hear anything about any new cookbook. Besides, what would that have to do with his murder? Seems to me that bad review likely ripped out of his hand is the thing that got him killed.’

‘Well now, I wouldn’t be too sure.’ Millie pointed at the footprint. ‘Is it any coincidence that there is a chef’s clog footprint right under the window of the room Charles Prescott was killed in and the man’s notes on his new cookbook are missing?’

Flora’s cleaning duties were limited, so after we got rid of Seth Chamberlain, I got to work, dusting, vacuuming and toilet cleaning. You’d think that would’ve been the cue for Millie and my mom to leave, but it must have been a dull day down at the senior center because they stayed on.

For someone who wanted to be free to engage in retirement activities and not have to worry about the guesthouse, Millie sure still spent a lot of time here. But since she’d volunteered to cook breakfast, I didn’t complain, because that meant less work for me in the morning.

She was probably worried my lack of cooking skills were going to ruin the guesthouse’s reputation for fine breakfasts. If a murder didn’t ruin it though, I hardly thought my cooking would.

It was late afternoon when I stumbled into the front parlor exhausted. It had been a long day, especially considering I’d discovered the body of one of my guests just that morning.

Flora was sitting on the overstuffed sofa in the front parlor watching soap operas and eating crackers. She glanced up as I flopped into a chair.

‘I get a fifteen-minute break every four hours.’ She said it as if I was about to chastise her for watching TV on the job.

‘Lucky you, that’s more than I get.’ I took off my clogs and massaged my aching feet. Who knew inn-keeping would be such hard work? When I bought the place from Millie she’d made it sound like others did most of the tasks.

Of the several parlors here, this one was my favorite because it was the sunniest. Golden afternoon light spilled in from the tall windows and turned the pine flooring to honey and brightening the already cheerful room.

Millie and Mom must have had the same idea. No sooner had I begun to relax when they trotted through the doorway with a tray full of chocolate chip cookies. Millie set the cookies down on the marble-topped mahogany coffee table and both flopped into chairs.

‘I think this new wrinkle in the case is going to help narrow down the killer.’ Millie bit into a cookie then pushed the tray toward Flora and indicated for her to take one.

‘I certainly hope so. I don’t like the way Seth keeps looking at Josie.’ Mom waited for Flora to choose, then picked her own cookie.

‘Me either,’ I said.

‘I think we need to find out what other restaurants Charles went to. If he was writing a bad review and the chef got wind of it, that would explain the footprint,’ Millie said.

‘But what about the missing cookbook?’ Mom asked.

‘He may not have even been writing a cookbook,’ Millie said. ‘Ava said that herself.’

‘Speaking of Ava, I don’t think she wears chef’s clogs but I’m not ruling her out entirely,’ I said.

Mom leaned forward and lowered her voice. ‘Let’s not forget Tina. If she was fooling around with Charles then that makes her a potential suspect. At least, that’s how it always is on TV.’

Flora remained silent, taking tiny bites of her cookie. Her eyes, gigantic behind the glasses, flicked back and forth from my mom to Millie to me as we talked.

Movement in the doorway caught our attention and we turned to see Mike, his broad shoulders leaning against the frame. ‘I figured if I followed the smell of cookies I’d find you.’

He pushed off from the doorway, gave Millie a kiss on the top of her head, grabbed a cookie and sat in a chair.

‘Were you looking for us or for cookies?’ I asked.

‘You, Sunshine. Thing is, I’m a little worried. There’s a killer running around.’

‘Yeah, but the intended victim was Charles. The rest of us are safe.’ Millie leveled a look at Mike. ‘Right? I mean you’re the ex-investigator, so you should know.’

‘It does look that way. Still, I think you all should be careful. Someone gave a lot of thought into planning out how to sabotage the stairs hoping the death would be ruled an accident,’ Mike said.

‘Premeditated,’ Mom said ominously.

‘Makes sense,’ Millie said. ‘If the killer knew he was writing that bad review, they probably planned to kill him before he had a chance to publish it.’

‘I don’t know.’ I picked up a cookie and broke off a small piece. ‘Seems to me that killing Charles over the bad review would be something spontaneous, done in a fit of anger. The way the review was ripped up seems to indicate such.’

‘Maybe. Or maybe they ripped it up and then stewed over it until later that night, when they came back and killed him.’ Millie said. ‘The chef’s clog print outside the window is the clincher. Maybe whoever it was killed Charles first and then got the idea to stage it after. I mean, that part of the house is closed off. They wouldn’t worry about anyone stumbling across them while they were doing all that work.’

‘You found a clog print outside the window?’ Mike glanced at my feet.

‘It wasn’t mine.’ I broke off another piece of cookie—bigger this time—and shoved it in my mouth.

‘It was right under the window of that room,’ Millie said. ‘We think the killer escaped out the window.’

‘Which means it was not someone who was staying here,’ Mom added.

‘That’s possible, but whoever it was must have been here for a while because it would take them quite some time to stage the stairs to look like an accident,’ Mike said. Nero and Marlowe appeared out of nowhere then, both jumping in his lap and started purring loudly.

‘No one would have seen them in there since that wing is closed. They would have had all the time they wanted to stage the stairs. But then there is the question of how they lured Charles into that part of the guesthouse. That would be hard for someone who wasn’t supposed to be at the guest house to do,’ Millie said. ‘Maybe we should put more credence into Tina as a suspect. If they were having an affair, I could certainly see how she might use her feminine wiles to lure him there.’

‘They were having an affair?’ Mike asked.

‘Yes, please do try to keep up,’ Mom answered. ‘But if it was Tina then she would have just snuck back to her room. Why climb out the window?’

‘Good question, and if it was Tina, then who left the clog print?’ Millie asked.

Flora, who had remained silent the whole time, her head on a swivel like a referee watching a tennis match, spoke. ‘What about Stella Dumont?’