Five

“See? I got in trouble for that cookbook.” Nero glanced up at Jed. At least the ghost looked contrite. Some of them could be downright unrepentant about their mischievous antics, but Jed seemed to be a kind spirit. Even so, Nero still hoped he didn’t hang around the guesthouse for any length of time.

“Sorry ’bout that, I was trying to get the attention of the pretty redhead.”

“Josie?” Marlowe’s eyes slanted as she looked up at the human.

Nero supposed Josie was kind of pretty. The coppery-red color of her hair was unusual and he liked that she didn’t wear a lot of smelly makeup. Her greenish eyes, though not nearly as bright or luminescent as a cat’s, were a good match for her fair coloring. He liked that she wasn’t boney. Not that she was fat, but she had a bit of meat on her and Nero preferred his humans to have some padding because it made them more comfortable to lie on. But, best of all, she had a kind heart. Even if she was a little slow to catch on.

“I don’t think you’ll get her attention,” Marlowe said. “She’s not very advanced when it comes to communication with those other than her own kind.”

“Well, to be fair, most humans can’t see ghosts like we can,” Nero said in defense of Josie. He’d been unsure about her when she’d first come to the guesthouse, but Millie had advised him to give her a chance and now he was starting to grow fond of her.

“True.” Marlowe licked her paw and washed behind her ear. “What about our current guests? They all claim to be able to speak with spirits.”

“So far none of them actually have,” Jed said absently as his gaze flicked about the room. “Look at these new-fangled contraptions.”

Nero glanced at Marlowe. New-fangled? While the stainless-steel appliances were a fairly recent upgrade, it was clear that Jed hadn’t been keeping up with the times.

Josie opened the fridge and put the ingredients Millie had left on the counter away. The ghost’s eyes practically popped out of his head. “Is that an icebox?”

“Yep.” Nero swished his tail.

“Where’s the ice?”

“Don’t need any. Modern technology keeps it cold,” Nero said.

“Go figure.” Jed tore his eyes from the fridge. “I’m glad to see that people are taking care of the place, but it looks like Josie might be in a little over her head. The house still needs a lot of work. I sure wish I could help her out.”

“Josie’s working on it. Myron gave her a loan so she can speed things up,” Nero said.

Jed’s eyes narrowed. “Myron? Is that that fancy-dan guy who came over earlier?”

“Yeah, he thinks he’s the cat’s meow with his tailored suits, shiny cuff links and designer shoes,” Marlowe said.

“Didn’t much like him.” Jed toyed with a delicate teacup that sat in a saucer on the kitchen table. It teetered in one direction then the other.

“Hey, don’t shove that on the floor, it’s from Millie’s great-great-grandmother’s Royal Albert china set,” Nero said.

Jed snatched his hand away. “Sorry. Can’t move it that far anyway. Try as I might I can only jiggle and wiggle things. I can shove them off if they are on the edge but that’s about it. Maybe I just need more practice.”

Nero hoped not. The last thing he wanted was for objects to fall to the floor repeatedly. Could be off-putting for the guests. Jed glanced at Josie wistfully. “I sure wish I could help her out.”

If Nero wasn’t mistaken, the ghost might be developing a crush on Josie. He’d seen that look before. Like one time when his feline friend Harry had a crush on that sleek white Persian with the blue eyes. He suppressed a sigh. Good thing Josie appeared incapable of seeing Jed. Ghost to human relationships never worked out.

Jed scratched his chin. “If that treasure is still out there, maybe we could get her to dig it up? She could use the money for the repairs on the guesthouse.”

Marlowe’s ears perked up. “You mean you might have some idea of where it is?”

“Well maybe, but…” Jed’s voice trailed off.

“But what?” Marlowe asked.

“Well, I’m not sure, but I think my killer may have taken it. Or someone could have dug it up after all these years.”

“Where did you bury it?” Nero asked.

Jed swirled over to the window. “Hard to tell after all these centuries. The land doesn’t look the same. Judging by the view of the cove, seems like we’re standing in the barn so I might have my landmarks mixed up. I’ll have to look around out there—truth be told, I haven’t been concerned about the treasure. Don’t have a need for it now. I was more drawn to my old things in the attic. As a spirit, I find that haunting the most familiar places feels comforting. But if it can help Josie, maybe I’ll widen my horizons and see if I can locate the area. Course if I do find it, I can’t dig it up.”

Nero flexed his claws. “How deep is it?”

“About two feet.”

“We can probably bring Josie over and give her a hint,” Marlowe said.

“That’s if we can find it.” Nero wasn’t convinced the treasure was still there or that Jed would even remember the location. The grounds had changed a lot over the last several decades, never mind over several generations.

“I can’t make any promises, but if I can find it, I might have an idea as to how we can get it dug up. First though, I need to go up and look the place over from the attic window to get my bearings. I’ll be in touch.”

And with that Jed disappeared leaving only a few drops of spirit dew on the floor.

“What do you think of his idea?” Marlowe asked, her gaze trained on the spot where Jed had just been as if trying to figure out how she could do a similar disappearing act.

“I don’t know. It would be nice if Josie got the treasure, but I wouldn’t hold my breath. If Jed even remembers where the treasure was, it will likely come to nothing. I think we should focus our energies on Madame Zenda’s pronouncement. It seems to have disturbed the other guests and I sense foul play may be afoot.”

Marlowe’s ears perked up. “You don’t say. I’ve noticed they are not a very trusting crew and I think some of them may be spying on the others.”

“Indeed. And that Anita Pendragon hanging around does not bode well.”

“Yes, I saw her lurking in the lilacs earlier this morning.”

“Yesterday she was hiding in the hydrangeas.” Beneath the hydrangeas was one of Nero’s favorite napping spots and he’d been put out that he couldn’t have his afternoon snooze because the nosey reporter was crouched down behind the bushes watching the house.

“And she was being furtive in the forsythia, too,” Marlowe added. “I say we put a tail on her and see what she’s up to.”

Nero liked the way the young cat was thinking. As an older feline, he took his responsibilities to mentor Marlowe in the ways of cat detecting and human training very seriously.

“We need to follow all of them, something is fishy around here.” Nero sniffed the air, the scent of salmon-flavored kibble causing his stomach to growl. Josie had finally left the kitchen after shooting a few concerned looks at their full bowls. Nero knew that she wanted them to eat and that, plus the fact that they’d been talking to Jed, had held him back from digging in. He didn’t want Josie to think they would trot over and start eating at her command. But right now, she wasn’t in the kitchen. “Let’s eat first, though. We might need the energy to figure out what these humans are up to.”

With the sausage all cooked and stored in the fridge for the next day’s breakfast, I set to my cleaning tasks. Flora was dusting so I spent the next several hours doing laundry and vacuuming.

I couldn’t help it if doing the tasks allowed me to sneak around the nooks and crannies of the guesthouse unobtrusively. It was part of my goal to make myself invisible so as not to disrupt anyone. I’d noticed with the last few batches of guests, being “invisible” allowed me to overhear some juicy stuff. I’d hoped to hear more about Madame Zenda’s plan to talk to Jed’s ghost, but today my guests were silent. Madame Zenda was in her room preparing for her ghostly meeting, according to Esther who I’d crossed paths with in the foyer. Esther had called an Uber and was on her way downtown. She was very tight-lipped when I asked her opinion about Madame Zenda’s proclamation. She was also tight-lipped about why she was going into town, but maybe she just figured it was none of my business.

I was on my way to the back hallway to put the vacuum away when I spotted movement outside through the back parlor window. Anita Pendragon? Peering through the blinds I was surprised to see it was Victor Merino. He was skulking along the side of the house looking suspicious. Was he meeting with Anita? Trying to find a hiding place so he could follow Madame Zenda? He moved out of view and I scurried across the hallway to the butler’s pantry. The window in there would allow me to spy on him without anyone seeing. Or so I thought. Someone else was already in there. Gail, who had her face pressed to the window, spun around looking guilty, which was good because if she was guilty then she wouldn’t notice I’d been sneaking in here to spy on Victor.

“I was looking for some tea.” She held up the ever-present mug as if to prove it.

“It’s in the cabinet, same spot as always.” I glanced out the window trying to see what she’d been looking at. I didn’t see anything unusual unless you consider Victor tiptoeing through the overgrown gardens unusual.

“The tea leaves have told me to be aware of what’s outside.”

Something in her manner set me on edge. Now that I thought about it, Gail didn’t seem to be a very good tea-leaf reader. Her readings were always very vague. At least Esther had come up with the tall, dark and handsome routine. And Madame Zenda had produced the death card. Madame Zenda claimed to be a medium, Esther could summon spirits in her crystal ball, Victor claimed he talked to those from the afterlife in his meditations, but, as far as I knew, Gail only read tea leaves. That seemed like a one-way conversation to me.

I pulled some Earl Grey out of the cabinet and handed it to her. Her gaze had drifted out the window again and she jerked her attention back to me and took the tin.

“I was wondering, how will you be able to communicate with Jed using just tea leaves?” I asked.

She looked confused. “What? Oh, well… the leaves don’t actually help me talk to him directly. Not the way you think. But I see things in the leaves. Answers to questions. So I focus on a question and the answer is supplied.”

I craned my neck to peer into her mug where a clump of crushed-up leaves sat on the bottom. It looked just like a regular bunch of tea leaves to me but who knew, maybe the arrangement of the leaves had some meaning for her. “Have you gotten any answers?”

“Unfortunately I haven’t gotten anything from Jed.” Her eyes were drawn back to the window as if magnets were attached.

“If Madame Zenda isn’t full of hot air, he must be around. Maybe he doesn’t like tea,” I suggested.

“Maybe.” Gail’s gaze dropped to the tea mug and I sensed she had something to add but she remained silent.

“So what have you seen in the tea leaves?” I asked.

“Oh… A few things about the guesthouse. Nothing important.”

“Things about the guesthouse? Like what?”

Gail’s gaze dropped to the mug. “I see lots of renovations.” She frowned. “And maybe some problems with completing them.”

My left brow ticked up. You didn’t need to be a psychic to see that I was doing a lot of renovations. “You don’t say.”

“Oh.” She waved her hand dismissively. “I know you have renovations going on, but this is more than that.” Then she glanced down again, a frown spreading on her face. “Of course, I also see something disturbing.”

“Disturbing?” What could be more disturbing than a bunch of psychics trying to talk to the ghost of the guy I’d found inside the wall? I leaned over to look into the mug again.

Her face darkened further as Victor passed by the window, ducking and weaving in the shrubs. What was he doing? Trying to figure out Madame Zenda’s location?

“Yes, you’d better be careful,” she whispered, then tore her gaze from the window and forced a laugh. “Listen to me being all dark and ominous. Nothing bad is coming, just be careful around that Myron guy. And don’t take what you hear from the guests too seriously. Everyone might not be on the up and up here.” With that she raised her mug at me and turned to leave. “Thanks for the tea.”

The conversation was a little unsettling, but I couldn’t put my finger on why. I also didn’t have time to think about it because two dark-clad figures lurking by the side of the house caught my attention. I pressed my face to the window. First Anita Pendragon, then Victor, and now this. How many people were skulking around in my yard and what did they want?

The two strangers resembled small, white-haired ninjas. Except they weren’t strangers. It was Mom and Millie and they were heading for the kitchen door.

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