Лейганн Доббс - A Twist In The Tail

‘Perhaps we should take a closer look at Josie. I have an informant down at the Police Station. You know him, Stubbs. It’s Louie Two Paws, the Siamese with the double paws. Anyway, he said that the victim was killed because of a bad review. That doesn’t look good for Josie.’

Nero huffed. ‘The police found a small scrap of paper in Charles’ room. It’s inconclusive as to what it really says. And besides, the review could have been about anyone, even Stella Dumont. Charles Prescott wasn’t confined to the Oyster Cove Guesthouse, he ate at other establishments. The police are making assumptions based on the one piece of evidence that their inferior investigative skills have unearthed. Whereas we have found a chef’s clog footprint, a clandestine affair and a missing cookbook.’

Boots nodded. ‘I suppose you are right. We must look at all the clues and let our superior brains determine who the appropriate suspects are.’

‘Well, I hate to say it,’ Stubbs said. ‘But Josie is a good prime suspect at least from the police’s point of view. She had motive if the review is about the guesthouse, she had means because she lives right there, and she had opportunity to kill the victim any time during the night and no one would think it was unusual that she was lurking around.’

‘No it can’t be Josie,’ Nero felt instantly protective of Josie, though he wasn’t sure why. Surely he wasn’t that attached to her. He’d only known her a few weeks. It was probably displaced loyalty for the Oyster Cove Guesthouse which had been his home for several lives now. Millie had left the guesthouse to him and Marlowe, and they’d messed up by letting a murder happen in the first place. He had to make sure that whomever he accused was actually the right person.

Poe raised a brow. ‘Oh, so you are bonding with your new human, then.’

‘Maybe. Sort of. I mean she still needs a lot of work but it doesn’t make sense that Josie would be the killer. Why would she kill him right in the guesthouse? That’s sure to raise suspicion on herself. Not to mention that it’s bad for business.’

‘And she is also looking for the killer. That’s what it sounded like when we were in the living room earlier,’ Marlowe added. ‘And why else would she be at Smugglers Bay? She also suspects Stella.’

Nero nodded. ‘Yes. Flora told her that Stella has been lurking around.’

‘But also, Mike said someone rigged the murder scene so that it would look like it was an accident.’

‘You don’t say? A setup? Trying to make Josie the fall guy perhaps?’ Stubbs asked.

Harry gave him a knowing, skeptical look. ‘Or the sabotage could point even more toward Josie. Who else would have opportunity to be inside the guesthouse messing around with the murder scene without anyone thinking it was odd?’

‘Right,’ Poe added. ‘Whatever was done to the scene probably took time and if it was not someone who was supposed to be there, questions would be raised.’

‘Not really,’ Nero said. ‘That part of the guesthouse is closed off. No one would be in there.’

‘Again, it all comes down to motive,’ Harry said.

‘In my experience, the most predominant reason people get iced is one of two things: money or love.’ Stubbs shook his head as if to indicate his disappointment with petty human motives.

‘That’s the problem,’ Nero said. ‘We have both. We have the missing cookbook that one of his associates said could be worth a lot of money and we have heard tale that he was having an affair with someone at the guesthouse.’

Poe frowned. ‘Someone at the guesthouse? Who?’

‘The blonde girl, Tina, or so Josie said,’ Nero said.

The male cats all nodded knowingly.

Juliette frowned at them disdainfully. ‘That doesn’t make very much sense. If it was someone at the guesthouse then why would they go out the window and leave the footprint?’

‘Yeah, that’s a good question. Why?’ Marlowe asked.

Nero’s gaze drifted to the cove as the cats considered the question. A red and white lobster boat bobbed in the waves. Inside, the lobsterman in his rubber apron was pulling up his pots. Nero watched as he snagged the blue and white polka dotted buoy and put the rope on the wheel that would dredge up the pot. He recognized from the buoy colors—each lobsterman had his own color scheme—that it was Buddy Turner.

Nero liked Buddy because he was kind to the cats and usually tossed them his bait scraps. He hoped Buddy had a good haul. A few minutes later the wooden slatted lobster pot appeared. Inside, he could see the succulent little creatures, some sitting contentedly, others with claws flailing. Nero felt momentary pang of sympathy for them, being dragged out of their environment and boiled alive, but it soon passed. They did taste good.

Finally, Juliette said, ‘Maybe the footprint is from someone other than the killer.’

‘Why would someone climb out the window?’ Poe said. ‘It does not make much sense.’

‘I was merely considering all possibilities,’ Juliette hissed.

‘What have you heard on the streets? Has anyone heard or seen anything?’ Nero asked quickly to keep things on track, and also avoid a fight between the two cats.

Juliette fluffed her tail. ‘Unfortunately no one has come to Father Timothy to confess about the murder.’

‘Yeah, that would be too easy,’ Harry said.

‘I did, however, notice some unusual activity from some of the Guesthouse guests up on the cliff. The belfry offers amazing views.’ Juliette preened her tail. Nero suspected it was more to draw out the attention of her discovery than for actually grooming purposes.

‘Who was it?’ Nero asked.

‘That older couple. The one with all the cameras,’ Juliette said.

‘The Weatherbys,’ Marlowe said. ‘What were they doing? It’s a steep and treacherous climb up to those cliffs, and they are old.’

‘Tell me about it.’ Juliette’s blue eyes narrowed in concern. ‘I was quite worried that I would witness them plunge to their deaths as they were bandying about on the edge of the cliff with their cameras out. They are actually quite adept for older people.’

‘Seems awful risky but I guess you can get some good pictures up there on the cliffs,’ Harry said.

‘Yes, it’s a lovely view. Great backdrop for gull pictures,’ Juliette said.

Nero though about this new wrinkle. Perhaps it meant nothing. The Weatherbys had said they were avid birdwatchers, perhaps they would go to great lengths to get pictures of baby gulls, if there were any up there. With the gull situation going on, Nero wondered if they would be reproducing at all.

‘So, the victim was seen up there. And the Weatherbys were seen up there.’ Boots’ whiskers twitched.

‘But if it was the Weatherbys, how does the chef’s clog footprint figure in?’ Marlowe glanced at Nero.

Nero simply tried to look wise. He had no idea how the two could be related. He didn’t recall the older couple wearing clogs. He was sure he would have noticed and equally sure he’d only ever seen them in sneakers. But he supposed they could have a pair in their closet. Perhaps he should investigate. He didn’t answer though. He didn’t want to seem like he had no clue. Part of his job of mentoring Marlowe was to appear as the wise teacher.

‘What about the rest of you? Has anyone seen or heard anything?’ Nero asked to avoid answering Marlowe’s question.

Everyone shook their head except for Stubbs. ‘I might’ve seen something. I put a tail on the skirt. You know, the one you said was having an affair with the victim? In my line of work, you always follow the dame.’

Nero’s brows shot up. ‘And did she do something suspicious?’

Stubbs’ shoulder sagged. ‘Not really. I spotted her downtown and that’s when I started the tail. She did a little shopping. Bought a purse. And then she went to The Marinara Mariner. I couldn’t follow her in of course, so I lost the trail.’