A Purrfect Alibi

Eight

“Maybe Madame Zenda was a little bit psychic after all,” Millie said as we sat in the kitchen waiting for the police to finish with the crime scene.

“Why do you say that?” I asked.

“Well, she predicted a death in her tarot reading. Too bad it was her own death.” Millie rummaged in the fridge, coming up with an apple, left over from the sausages, which she proceeded to crunch into.

“I don’t buy that,” Mom said. “If she was any good, she would have been able to see her own death and therefore avoid it.”

Millie chewed the apple and glanced out the window. “Funny how Anita was already there when we got there.”

“And how Esther, Myron and Victor showed up so soon after,” Mom added.

“I guess the screams brought Esther and Victor to the scene, just like us,” I said. “But I wonder why Gail didn’t come running out.”

Mom’s brows shot up. “Maybe because she already knew what was out there.”

Millie shook her head. “No, I think the most suspicious ones are Anita and Victor. And just what was Myron doing here, anyway?”

I filled them in on Myron’s worries about all the ghost talk. “I think he’s having second thoughts about investing in the guesthouse.” I fiddled nervously with the silver salt-and-pepper shakers on the table.

“Don’t worry about Myron, Josie.” Millie patted me on the shoulder as if reading my mind. “He’s all bark and no bite.”

Mom nodded. “And besides, he has a crush on you. He’s not gonna take the loan away.”

“I know what will take your mind off of it.” Millie rummaged in the cabinets. “We’ll fix some nice lemon muffins for tomorrow’s breakfast. They’ll go fabulously with the sausage. What else are you going to make?”

I shrugged. I’d gotten so used to Millie coming over and helping I wasn’t quite used to planning the breakfast. “Maybe some scrambled eggs? I’ll heat up the sausage to go with it and then a fruit bowl.”

“That sounds perfect. The muffins will round it out.” Millie opened the fridge and gathered a lemon, eggs, milk and butter and placed them on the counter.

“So, we have another dead body and a slew of suspects. But I wonder… you don’t think Jed’s ghost really did kill Madame Zenda, do you?” Mom stood over at the bookshelf running her finger along the spines of the cookbooks. She stopped at the one that had fallen out onto the floor earlier.

Millie waved her hand. “Course not. There’s no such thing as ghosts, right, Josie?”

“Right.” I pulled out the new silicone muffin liners that Millie had suggested I splurge on and started lining them up on a pan. It would be convenient to think maybe Jed’s ghost did kill Madame Zenda, but I didn’t believe in ghosts. Someone more earthly had committed the murder and written that note. “But why leave the note and the buckle?”

“It certainly was dramatic,” Mom said.

“Overly dramatic, but I suppose that was on purpose.” Millie measured out the flour carefully.

“You mean someone is making it look like a bigger story than it is?” Mom said.

My thoughts raced to Anita Pendragon. Clearly Madame Zenda had known she was lurking around outside and wanted her to overhear the announcement about her meeting with Jed, but why was Anita lurking here in the first place? Had Madame Zenda tipped her off or had she just known psychics would be at the guesthouse and thought she could dig up a good story? What lengths would Anita go to to turn a good story into a great story? One can’t be too hasty when trying to figure out a motive for murder though, and sprucing up a story so that it gets a lot of media attention wasn’t the only reason I could think of to kill.

“The killer could also be trying to muddy the waters and use misdirection to distract us with the note and buckle, when the real reason for the murder is that it is about a past experience with Madame Zenda,” I said.

“You mean like revenge or blackmail?” Mom’s eyes lit up. “Esther did seem to know Madame Zenda from before. She must’ve been close to her in the past if she knew her real name was Betty Sue.”

Millie turned to face us as she licked some batter off a spoon. “One of the last things Madame Zenda did was to make it very clear that she was going to talk to Jed’s ghost. Seems logical to me that either someone didn’t want her to talk to the ghost because he might tell her where the treasure is and she might get it first, or they didn’t want her to get the fame that might come from an article. Unless the murderer is trying to make us think that is the motive, as Josie suggested.”

“We can’t rule out Anita Pendragon. She knew Madame Zenda was going to talk to the ghost and, according to her, she was skulking around trying to witness their communication. Maybe she figured out Madame Zenda was a fake and killed her to make the article more interesting,” Mom said.

I was skeptical. “Would someone really kill over a newspaper article? I mean, it doesn’t seem like that would be worth much. Too much risk for too little reward.”

“But let’s not forget, we must investigate all angles,” Millie said. “Seems like there are quite a few motives for Madame Zenda’s murder.”

“Did you notice the murder weapon?” Mom avoided eye contact.

“Yes. My letter opener. But I keep that at the front desk and anyone could have taken it. The guests would have access and the front door is open during the day, so anyone could have come in and nabbed it,” I said.

“Even Anita Pendragon,” Millie added.

“Ed did say he thought she might have snuck in here,” I said.

“Hmm, when did you last see it?” Mom asked.

I tried to remember the last time I’d seen the letter opener. I was sure it had been in the house last week but that didn’t help. “I have no idea, with everything being electronic these days, I don’t get much mail.”

“It makes a good weapon, apparently,” Mom said.

I crossed my arms and leaned back against the counter as Millie poured the batter into muffin liners. It wasn’t a surprise that Millie and my mother were automatically jumping into a new investigation. What was a surprise was that I’d followed right along with them. Apparently investigating the last two murders had fostered some sort of detecting skill I didn’t know I’d had.

Of course, the idea that a killer was running around loose wasn’t very appealing. Nor was the idea that it could affect my bookings or my loan. Seth Chamberlain wasn’t what I’d call a crack investigator. He did the best he could, but the town of Oyster Cove didn’t normally have any murders and he just didn’t have the experience. If Mom, Millie and I needed to do a little detecting on the side to catch a killer, then so be it.

“It’s getting late. I think we need to sleep on it and come up with a game plan first thing tomorrow,” Millie said as she shoved the muffins in the oven.

“I already have one. Or at least the start of one,” Mom said.

Millie shut the oven door, straightened and turned to look at my mother. “What is it?”

“Someone went to a lot of trouble to dress up the murder scene. We don’t know their exact purpose for that yet, but we do know one thing.” Mom’s eyes glittered with excitement. “Someone had to get an old buckle similar to what Jed would have worn. Do you remember seeing a buckle like that in here, Millie?”

Millie shook her head. “No. The stuff from Jed’s time is way back in the attic and I’ve never looked in there. I suppose there could be such a buckle, but how would someone get it? You still keep the door locked, don’t you, Josie?”

“I do. Can’t have guests getting hurt up there.”

Millie pressed her lips together. “Seems like a lot of trouble for someone to search the house.”

“Yeah, there are easier ways to find old buckles or buckles that look like they are old,” Mom said. “In fact, I think I’ve seen them at the fabric store.”

“Ones that look like the one on the body?” Millie asked. “It would make more sense that someone just got a replica.”

Mom frowned. “I don’t remember exactly what they looked like, but it behooves us to go downtown and check it out. If we can find who recently acquired such a buckle, then we just may have our killer.”