A Purrfect Alibi

Seventeen

The next morning breakfast went off without a hitch. The waffles came out golden brown and the guests slathered them in maple syrup and piled them on their plates. The frittata was cooked to perfection and not dry. I might be getting the hang of this cooking business after all…

I had a little bit of a scare when the cats started meowing in that way they do when something is wrong—like, for example, there’s a dead body on the property—but thankfully everyone was accounted for and near as I could tell no bodies littered the grounds.

I hadn’t forgotten about how the cats had tried to lure me to the attic, but they’d scattered after breakfast, so I decided to clean up while I waited for them to come back. I felt very strongly that wandering around up there by myself would be a waste of time. If the cats really did have something to show me, they’d be back.

Mom and Millie turned up while I was loading the last of the dishes into the dishwasher. It was a mystery to me as to how they usually ended up walking through the door just as I put the last dish in. They did have impeccable timing. I was too eager to tell them about my research from the night before and how I’d seen Esther sneaking around the property to marvel at how they always managed to get out of cleaning up. Maybe Flora had learned it from them.

“At least we know that Victor and Madame Zenda knew each other, but I suppose that’s no big surprise. Why do you think Esther would be sneaking around?” Millie whispered after I told them about the cruise that Madame Zenda, Esther and Victor were on and how I’d seen Esther outside. “Maybe she was just out for a walk.”

“Nope. She was definitely sneaking. Skulking along the shrubs and looking behind her,” I said. “Looking for the trea—”

“Shhh!” Mom’s eyes were wide and she was gesturing not so subtly over my shoulder. I turned to see Esther in the doorway.

“Well, I’m just irate!” Esther hadn’t seemed to notice we’d been huddled in a group whispering.

“You are? Why?” I imagined all sorts of reasons she could be mad, ranging from the breakfast making her sick to Flora not cleaning her room properly to stumbling over another dead body. I prayed it wasn’t the latter.

“That banker guy… Marvin somebody—” Esther said.

“Myron Remington,” Mom said.

“Yeah, whoever. Short guy, owns the bank? I heard downtown at the post office that he’s been badgering you.” Esther turned kind eyes on me. She really did seem concerned about me and mad at Myron. Who could blame her? He did have a way about him that made people angry.

Millie didn’t see Esther in the same light as I did, if her narrowed eyes and accusatory tone were any indication. “Just what were you doing at the post office?”

Esther blinked. “Mailing postcards. I always do that when I visit a new town.”

“Oh.” Millie looked disappointed that her question hadn’t tripped up Esther, but I could see that she was assessing her to determine if she was lying about the postcards.

“Anyway, this place is so lovely I hate to think that nasty little man is being so controlling with the money. This magnificent house deserves to be restored.” She lowered her voice. “I heard he was making noises about taking back your loan.”

My heart twisted. Had that rumor been going around town? Esther could have easily heard it at the post office since that’s where most rumors were spread.

“Well, I hope he isn’t serious about that,” I managed to squeak out.

“Me too. This place has great spirit vibes. Intelligent ghosts. Wonderful history.” Esther’s eyes sparkled.

Millie perked up. She always did when someone complimented the guesthouse. “It is a special place. And not just the inside, either. The grounds are lovely.” Millie glanced out the window at the overgrown garden. “Well, the yard needs some work. Have you been out in the grounds at all?”

Esther looked down at her shoes. “Not really. I mean, I was out at Betty Sue’s body and I’ve sat on the porch.”

Maybe Millie was right to be suspicious because that was one whopper of a lie.

“What about the old buildings on the property? Some of them have great history.” I gave her a chance to fess up. Maybe she just hadn’t mentioned it or had forgotten.

“Oh no, I wouldn’t go near any of those old buildings. Nope. Never ventured far from the house. Well, except when we found Betty Sue, of course.” Esther cocked her head to the side as if listening to something in the hall. She seemed nervous. “I think I hear Victor. I better get back there. Wouldn’t want him to get a leg up on talking to Jed’s ghost. Good luck with your renovations.”

Millie’s brows shot up as Esther hurried out of the room. “Well, if that don’t beat all. I say that woman has something to hide.”

“She did seem genuinely concerned about the guesthouse.” I really did think she was sincere about that.

“Probably a ploy to throw us off track,” Mom said.

Meow!

Nero and Marlowe were sitting at the bottom of the back stairs; their unblinking gaze reminded me that I still hadn’t had a chance to get up into the attic.

Millie rushed over to pet them, but apparently they had other things on their minds. They accepted a few quick pets on the head but then started to meow and pace around, putting one foot on the stairs and then glancing at us.

“I think they want to show us something,” I said.

Mom looked at me funny, but Millie didn’t seem the least bit fazed. “It’s about time you started to understand their subtle communications. Hmmm… now let me see. It’s the attic, right?” She addressed her question to Nero, who meowed loudly and started up the stairs.

We followed the cats up the narrow creaky stairs. No wonder I never took these things; the ceiling was low, the walls closed in. It was claustrophobic. I got a little winded by the second floor but Mom and Millie practically ran up and I didn’t want to seem like a wimp, so I pressed on, even though the increase in temperature as we ascended caused sweat to drip down my back.

When we got to the top of the stairs I unlocked the door with the old skeleton key that I’d grabbed from the butler’s pantry, and the door opened with an ominous creak.

I’d only been up in the attic once, when I had looked over the place to buy it, and then I’d only peeked in. Even though I’d spent a lot of time at the guesthouse as a little girl, the attic had held no interest for me and now I could see why. It was dusty and full of cobwebs. Big cobwebs. I looked around for the spiders that lived in them, but they must have all scurried to dark corners.

There must have been a dozen generations’ cast-offs up here. During the negotiations to purchase the place, Millie had vaguely mentioned it came with all sorts of antiques and things I could use for the guesthouse. She’d made it sound like a bonus, but I’d been skeptical. Turns out I was right, the place was crammed full of things that needed some sort of repair and a good clean.

Nero and Marlowe led us on a path between old pieces of furniture, lamps and boxes. They trotted straight to the oldest part of the house. I sneezed a dozen times as our footsteps kicked up dust from the thick layer that was on the floor. It was so thick that the cats’ paws had made little prints in it as they’d walked ahead. I could see they’d been here a couple of times judging by the number of paw prints.

Up ahead, the cats were perched on an ancient trunk, their eyes tracking us as we approached.

“This is all the old stuff that was here when I was a little girl.” Millie looked around at the piled-up junk. This section did appear to have items that were much older… and much more deteriorated.

“The trunk looks ancient.” The cats hopped off as I approached. They stood at my feet, looking up at me as if encouraging me to open it. If I had any doubts before that the cats were trying to communicate, I didn’t now.

“That’s a steamer trunk,” Mom said. “For going on ships. Very old.”

“It must have belonged to Jedediah Biddeford!” Millie lifted the top. It creaked and groaned as she pulled it up gently.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Mom said as she peered in.

“The old buckle.” Millie reached in and started pushing the items aside. The smell of mildew wafted up and I sneezed again.

The trunk contained old clothing and personal items. Mom gingerly held up the shoulders of a disintegrating tweed suit. “This looks like the suit Jed was wearing in that drawing. You know, the one in the Oyster Cove history book.”

Millie glanced at the suit. “It sure does. And if that’s in here, maybe those shoes are in here. And if the shoes are in here… are the buckles with them or is one missing?”

We carefully moved the items aside. No shoes.

“No shoes. No buckles.” Millie looked excited. “Do you think this is where the killer got the buckle from?”

“Who had been up here?” Mom asked.

“Ed said he heard someone and thought it was Anita Pendragon.” I glanced around at the dusty attic floor. “But…”

“Any of the guests could have snuck up here, though,” Millie said.

“Wait, something isn’t right.” I swiped my finger through the thick layer of dust on an oak table that sat beside the trunk. “The floor was covered in dust when we came up. The only thing disturbing the path to this trunk was the cats’ paw prints. I remember looking at them.”

We all looked back toward the path, which of course was now marred with our own footprints. “There’s another path from the corner there.” Millie pointed to a row of furniture and boxes, which had been pushed aside to form a narrow path, but it had a layer of undisturbed dust. “Hmmm, no footprints there. So how would someone have gotten to the trunk?”

“They couldn’t. Not unless they hopped across the furniture,” I said.

“Or floated over like a ghost.” Mom glanced around the room as if expecting one.

“There is no ghost.” Millie closed the trunk. “The shoes and buckle were probably never in here. We don’t know for sure that the buckle on Madame Zenda was actually Jed’s. I’m sure there are other old buckles that look like his. Now let’s get a move on, we have suspects to scrutinize. This buckle angle is a dead end.”

Meow! Nero hopped up on the trunk and cast an accusatory glare at Millie.

Meroo! Marlowe weaved on the path in front of us.

“I know you guys mean well.” Millie picked up steam as we neared the attic door. “But I’m not sure what you wanted to tell us. We already know this is all about the psychics pretending they are talking to Jed. Is that what you were trying to tell us?”

Meoooo.

Meope.

Millie ignored the cats’ meows as we funneled out onto the second-floor landing. Flora was there, dusting a bench that sat underneath the window. She gave our dusty clothes a look of disapproval and then tried to dust Mom off with her feather duster.

“What have you people been doing up in the attic? It’s dirty up there and I have enough work as it is,” Flora said.

“We were just looking for something.” Millie pushed the duster away as Flora turned it on her.

“Well, I hope you don’t expect me to clean up there. I don’t do attics. Hard enough to keep the regular house clean. And I hope you don’t expect me to be cleaning the outbuildings either,” Flora huffed.

“Outbuildings?” I asked.

Flora nodded. “And don’t you listen to any of those crazy guests either. I keep the bathrooms clean as a whistle. I don’t know why that crystal ball lady thinks she needed to resort to using the outhouse.”

“Esther? You saw her in the outhouse?” Mom raised her brows at me. “Is that where you saw her, Josie?”

“No, I saw her near the barn. That’s pretty far away.” I turned to Flora. “Are you sure you saw her in there?”

“Do you think I’m blind?” Flora pushed the thick glasses up on her nose. “Just because I wear these doesn’t mean I can’t see. Like right now, I can see Myron Remington as plain as day.”

We all swiveled to look out the window. Flora was right. Myron was standing by the side of an old shed. He was looking around as if assessing the grounds. My gut clenched. Why would he be doing that? It was almost as if he were scoping out the place, trying to figure out what he would do with the property when he seized it for non-payment of the loan. I could just imagine visions of condos or a strip mall dancing through his head.

Mom, Millie and I clustered around the small window, watching as he looked out toward the ocean, then back at the shed. We jumped back when his gaze drifted to the house.

“What is he doing out there?” Mom asked.

“Looks like he’s checking out the grounds. Maybe he thinks you need to get the landscaping done, Josie,” Millie said.

“Maybe.” I hoped that was all it was, but the way he was looking around I didn’t think so.

“Well, I don’t like him showing up here all the time. I mean, it’s not like he bought the place, he just gave you a loan. I have a good mind to run down there and tell him so.”

Millie started toward the door, but I put my hand on her arm to hold her back.

“Maybe it’s better if we just let him go about his business. This will all blow over after the killer is caught and these guests figure out they can’t talk to Jed.” I hoped.

Millie sighed. “Fine. I suppose you’re right. All the more reason for us to figure out who the killer is before Myron comes up with a reason to renege on the loan.”

“Don’t let him get mud in here.” Flora’s glasses reflected light from the window as she turned to me. “I just spent a good hour cleaning up the mud one of them traipsed in. It’s enough cleaning up after the guests, but you need to do something about keeping the whole town from traipsing in!”

The whole town? “I’m sorry about that, but Myron did give me a loan and I want to stay on his good side.”

“Yeah him too, but he’s not the one who traipsed mud in the back entry. That was a mess to clean up,” Flora said.

“Well then who did?” Millie asked.

“Anita Pendragon. You ask me, that nosey reporter is up to something.”

Marlowe rolled her eyes at the backs of Josie, Rose and Millie as they exited the attic. “I guess they didn’t get our drift.”

“Don’t be too harsh,” Nero said. “Josie did understand we wanted her up here. They just didn’t get the part about the shoes being missing.”

Marlowe sighed. “I suppose we can’t expect too much. They don’t have our superior skills of deduction so wouldn’t know the shoes had been there.”

“To be fair, we did have Jed to tell us that. I’m not sure we would have figured that out on our own, either.” Nero secretly enjoyed putting Marlowe in her place sometimes, but fair was fair. He might have been able to sniff out the fact that the shoes had once been in there, but he was sure Marlowe wouldn’t have. But without Jed to lead them up here and tell them about the shoes, he was certain that he wouldn’t have even thought of it.

“I don’t know about that Josie. She seems a little dense.” Jed tapped the side of his head. “Doesn’t catch on fast and she didn’t even lock the door when they left. Not like my girl, Esther. Now that one’s a keeper. Much nicer than that shrew I married.”

Jed’s face got all pinched, apparently with memories of his dead wife. Was he wondering if the shrew had killed him? If she had, could Nero prove that somehow? He glanced around at the stacks of boxes and papers. Maybe the murder weapon was in one of these boxes and he could sniff it out. Or there might be an article in one of the papers showing Helena Biddeford unusually happy after her husband’s death.

“It’s still a bust. As Josie said, there were no footprints going to the trunk, so who could have taken the shoes?” Marlowe’s words dragged Nero back to the present. They had a more important murder to solve right now. Jed’s murder could wait.

“Maybe they were clever enough not to leave footprints.” Nero studied the furniture in the attic. Someone could have traversed a path to the trunk without leaving footprints, he supposed.

“The guests here are a sneaky bunch. I think we have a bit more investigating to do. The buckle is a dead end.” Marlowe fluffed her tail. “Get it? Dead end.”

“But how would they do that? Levitate?” Nero had heard of things like levitation and astral projection and he’d seen Victor meditating, but his butt had always been planted firmly on the chair.

“Guess we need to find that out,” Marlowe said.

Jed had swirled over to the window and was dripping ectoplasm on the floor. “I saw that mean banker skulking around out there. I don’t much like him. He worries Josie and I don’t want her to worry. Maybe I should haunt him.”

“Not a bad idea.” Nero smiled at the thought of Myron being haunted, especially since Myron seemed to be getting worked up about all the ghost talk.

Jed tapped his fingers on his lips. “I think I have an idea that can help out Josie, and my beautiful Esther, plus give Myron the shaft.”

Nero perked up. “I like that idea. Will it help find the killer?”

“Whose? Mine or that tarot reader’s?”

“Either.”

“Maybe not. But I’m not really all that keen on finding my killer anymore. Since I’ve been communicating with Esther my feelings about moving on to the afterlife have changed.” Jed got all dreamy looking and his normally white ghostly image turned pink.

“Yech,” Marlowe said.

Nero agreed, but at least Jed wasn’t fixated on Josie anymore. If he attached himself to Esther and wanted to stay on the earthly plane, then he’d be leaving when Esther did and that was just fine with Nero.

“So, what are you going to do that will help Josie and Esther and annoy Myron?” Marlowe asked.

“Not sure exactly yet. I’m working on a plan, though,” Jed said.

“Speaking of annoying Myron and working on a plan, we need to do both.” Nero hopped down from the old Eastlake bureau he’d been sitting on so he could look out the window. “I say we start with annoying Myron. He hates getting cat hair on his nice slacks. Let’s go find him before he leaves and rub up against the bottom of his pants.”