A Twist In The Tail. A Whisker In The Dark. A Purrfect Alibi

“Well?” Millie looked at me expectantly.

“I’m not sure. This is a photocopy of an old journal from when the bank was founded.” I glanced over at Esther. She seemed resigned now, sitting back in her seat, no longer trying to get the papers back. Apparently she was too dignified to run now that we were about to prove why she’d kill Madame Zenda. If only I could figure out what this paper had to do with her plan and tie it into the murder…

I handed the paper to Millie and looked at the next one. It was a list of old coins similar to the ones I’d seen at the bank display. It was also in Thomas Remington’s hand and there was quite an extensive list. The bank sold antique coins, but I doubted they would part with any of the original coins Thomas had brought. Did the coins somehow figure into the murder?

“Ha! Look at that. I guess old Thomas Remington had perfect timing.” Millie glanced up from the first paper as I handed her the second.

“Why is that?” Mom had come to stand behind Millie and was looking over her shoulder. Esther was still seated but now she was looking into her crystal ball as if mesmerized. The cats were sitting on the table watching us.

I was barely listening to Mom and Millie’s conversation, my brain busy trying to make sense of all this as I scanned the third sheet, which appeared to be an accounting of old Remington family heirlooms and their value. It was almost like a receipt.

“Well, he opened the bank the same year Jedediah Biddeford was determined to be missing in Europe. He would have been out of a job if he hadn’t done that.” Millie reached for the next sheet and I handed it over.

The final sheet was the etching of the Oyster Cove guesthouse with Jed. He was wearing the shoes with the buckle. His wife stood next to him and children and staff to the side. Now why did that keep cropping up? I looked up at Esther, our eyes locking. Suddenly I knew what Esther had been up to. We’d made a huge mistake.

Millie snatched the last piece of paper out of my hand, pointed to it and addressed Esther.“Now there! This proves you’re the killer!”

“Yeah!” Mom agreed, then frowned and looked at me. “Err… could you explain just how it does that?”

“It doesn’t—”

Thunk!

A heavy onyx bookend toppled to the floor from the second shelf of the bookcase cutting off my words. Good thing it landed on the rug, might have made a dent in the floor otherwise.

“What?” Millie wore an expression of quizzical disappointment.

Meooo!

Merooolow!

Meruuuus!

The cats screeched as they bolted into the hallway. I could hear their footsteps racing up the stairs.

Realizing they were headed to the attic, I shot out of my seat.“I know who killed Madame Zenda and it wasn’t Esther. We better hurry or there may be another murder!”

We’d reached the doorway when the lights went out, stopping us cold. That was odd, there was no storm, why would the power go out?

Of course! It was the killer. We’d left our flashlights in the kitchen. Did we have time to get them?

And that’s when we heard the scream.

Twenty-Six

The scream left no doubt that there was no time to fumble around for the flashlights we’d left in the kitchen, so we headed straight for the stairs. By now my eyes had become accustomed somewhat to the dark and the moon shining through the windows helped, not to mention the meows of the cats who were just ahead of us. Lucky thing I didn’t have to try to fit the key into the lock.Then again, if I’d locked the door like I was meant to, I supposed we wouldn’t be running up here to stop a murder.

As we rushed up the stairs, noises from above quickened our steps. The moonlight had splashed in through the windows in the main house, but windows were sparse in the attic, so it was nearly pitch black. Muffled sounds came from the very far end where I’d seen Jedediah Biddeford’s trunk.

“Ooof… Arghhh…”

Not ghostly noises this time, these were coming from a human.

Mew. Nero’s meow was soft but insistent, as if he knew it was urgent for us to move toward the sounds but that we might not want to let the killer know we were there.

I focused on the direction of the noise, I was sure it was the back corner now, but getting there was another story. The attic was full of piled up cast-offs and it was too dark for me to see the path. Taking the wrong one might be off course and I’d be too late.

I started in one direction, but then felt a cold resistance and backtracked.

“Oghhhh…”

Oh no, that didn’t sound good. We were making slow progress; a few times I’d taken a step down the wrong path but had felt an odd cold resistance blocking me and then turned around.

Meroo!Marlowe didn’t need to tell me we were almost there, I could see the dark shadow of a person moving about as if wrestling something that was on the floor below them. Then a sickening thud. “Aghshhhh…”

“Hold it right there. We have you covered!” Millie shouted from behind me.

“Look out… gaghhh… gun!” A man’s voice came from the floor. Was he warning us or was this some kind of trick?

Esther trotted up behind us catching her breath beside me.“Wait, that sounded like Victor. I thought he was the killer!”

“No, it must be Anita!” Mom said. “I knew she was up to no good.”

They were both wrong.“I’m afraid not, it’s—”

“Shut up or I’ll shoot!” a voice shouted. “It’s unfortunate you’re all here. Now I’ll need to think up a new plan.”

“Guess it’s not Anita. Is there really a gun?” Mom whispered. “Maybe they’re bluffing.”

“And what is Victor doing on the floor?” Esther asked.

“I think he’s tied up,” Mom said.

“I wish I could see.” Millie craned her neck forward beside me. “We need to surround him then someone can get him from behind.”

Millie’s idea about surrounding the killer was a good one, but now that my eyes were getting used to the low level of light, I could see that wouldn’t be possible. He was in the corner, backed up against a tall bureau that had boxes piled high. Beside that, other pieces of furniture were jammed in all the way to the walls. There would be no way to get behind there easily.

“Maybe someone should go down and get the flashlights,” Mom whispered. “I can sneak back without him noticing in the dark.”

“Quiet, all of you!” The killer waved something in the air. A gun, or was it a bluff? “Get up against those bureaus, spread out so I can see all of you. Wouldn’t do to have one of you sneaking off now.”

My mind was racing—we had to come up with a way to distract him so we could overpower him. Maybe if I got him talking, he’d get distracted and it would give me time to think. “You won’t get way with this, M—”

Zzzzpt!

The lights came on, temporarily blinding me. I blinked, trying to keep my eyes on the gun. Maybe now I could rush the killer and…

“Myron Remington!” Millie gasped, looking from Myron to me. “Did you know it was him, Josie?”

Well, at least I was right about that. Myronwas the killer. Too bad Victor was also right… Myron had a gun and it was pointed at us.

Myron looked dazed and a little spooked.“Who turned the lights on?” He glanced around the room as if expecting some sort of specter to appear. Too bad he didn’t loosen his grip on the gun.

On the floor in front of Myron lay Victor. He was tied up and he must have passed out… at least I hoped he was only passed out and not dead. The sound of someone gasping behind us drew our attention.

Gail stood behind Millie, looking over her shoulder at Victor on the floor.“I heard the noises up here. Did you capture Victor?”

“No, silly.” Mom turned her so she could see Myron with his gun. “Myron did. He’s the killer.”

Gail frowned.“Victor doesn’t look dead.”

“He’s not,” Myron snapped. “At least not yet. I guess you can all go together now. I won’t say I regret that. You’re all too nosey for your own good.”

Merooo!Nero sounded indignant on our behalf.

Mewooo! Marlowe agreed.

The cats were pacing around in front of Myron. I wasn’t sure if they had a plan, but I certainly hoped so.

“You might as well give up now, Myron. There are many of us and just one of you.” I gestured to our little group now huddled against a large mahogany server pushed against the wall.

“Yeah but I have the gun.” Myron’s lips curved in a sinister smile. Apparently he’d recovered from his shock of the lights coming on. I would have preferred they stayed out, at least that way some of us would have a chance of getting away, but now he could clearly see all of us.

I barely heard what Myron was saying as I was busy wondering how we could get around behind him. Maybe Victor would wake up and trip him? I couldn’t count on that and now with the lights on he’d see if one of us broke from the group and tried to slip between the furniture to the back. Where was Flora when you needed her? Last time we’d gotten ourselves into a predicament like this, she’d snuck up from behind and clobbered the killer.

“Okay then, a little change in plans might be good.” Myron looked confident in his new plan. “Hmm… I think I’ll use Gail’s vendetta against Victor here.” Myron kicked Victor who let out a miserable groan.

“What do you mean?” Gail asked.

“Don’t think I don’t know about that,” Myron said. “It’s too bad that everyone will think that you became so obsessed with him that you burned down the guesthouse.”

Millie’s hands flew to her face and she gasped. The cats meowed. I felt a little disturbed at the prospect myself. Not just that it was my home and how I made my living, I was getting quite attached to the place.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Myron continued. “It won’t be a total loss… except for all of you perishing during the fire. I’ll put a nice big hotel or some condos here. I did notice a good spot for a pool where that old barn is.”

So hehad been scoping out the grounds! Though I guessed that was only a secondary reason for him being out in the yard earlier.“But that’s not what you were doing outside earlier today, is it?”

Myron nodded at me as if approving of my skills of deduction.“Nah. I guess I can tell you now since you won’t be able to tell anyone. I was hiding the speakers that made the ghostly noises.”

“Why?” Millie asked. “I thought you didn’t want ghosts to be associated with the guesthouse?”

Myron narrowed his gaze on Millie.“Ha! That’s where you got it wrong. I’m not afraid of ghosts.”

Esther stepped out of our little circle toward Myron.“It won’t work, Myron… I told the police the truth.”

Myron stared at her as if trying to decide whether or not to believe her.

“That’s right. I have the proof of what really happened, and I got it from your very own bank.” She stood a few feet from him, hands on her hips. Apparently she didn’t care that the gun was pointed directly at her. “I did it for Jed.”

The cats seemed agitated at this pronouncement and paced around her feet as if trying to protect her.

“Liar!” The gun wavered in Myron’s hand. “The bank tellers only said that Victor was there getting old coins. He was planning on putting on quite a show.”

“Figures,” Gail muttered.

Esther shook her head.“Nope. I was there too and now I know the truth.”

“I doubt that,” Myron scoffed, but he was starting to look nervous.

“What truth?” Millie whispered. “How is Myron mixed up in this?”

“The papers…” I whispered to Mom and Millie.

“Papers?” Millie asked.

“The ones Esther had from the bank. You gave me the clue, Millie. You said it was a good thing that Thomas Remington opened the bank when he did because he would have been out of a job with Jed’s death.”

“Yeah, but how could a butler afford—” Millie’s eyes widened. “Oh… the treasure!”

“What are you whispering about back there?” Myron demanded.

“Esther’s right,” I said. “We know the truth about the bank. It’s no use. Let us go and the police will go easier on you.” I wasn’t really sure if that was true. In fact, I hoped they wouldn’t go easier on him, but I always heard them say that on TV and it sounded good.

Myron made a face.“I was afraid this would happen. You and your mother and Millie are so nosey. What papers are you talking about?”

“Turns out your pride was your downfall,” Millie said. “You had to display all the history of the bank and old Thomas’ journal papers. That’s how I figured it out. The timing wasn’t right for him to raise that much money!”

I frowned at Millie. Did she just say thatshe’d figured it out? I guess it wouldn’t matter much who actually figured it out if we didn’t find a way to get out of this.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Myron asked. “Those papers don’t prove anything and, since no one else will think to look at them, I don’t think anyone else will put two and two together.”

“Not just the papers,” I said. I didn’t want Myron getting any more confident than he already was. The best course of action was to get him feeling uncertain and then he’d be distracted and we could use that to our advantage. “It was also that pen.”

He turned the gun toward me.“Pen?”

“Yeah, the carved ivory pen you left here that day you viewed Ed’s work on the ballroom. You had it retrofitted for modern use by Agnes Withington, didn’t you?”

“It’s an antique and I wanted it to be of use. So what?”

“Yes, it is an antique. In fact, I saw it in an old etching, but it wasn’t Thomas Remington who was using it. It was Jedediah Biddeford. So it made me wonder… how did the pen come into your possession?”

“Thomas must have stolen it!” Mom said.

“Yep, and if he stole that, he probably stole Jed’s fancy shoes with the buckles too. Isn’t that right, Myron.”

Myron’s confidence was faltering. This was my chance! Millie could take it from here, so I whispered in her ear. “Cover me and keep him talking.”

Millie maneuvered herself in front of me and I backed up, slowly receding into the dim shadows. Myron was too distracted to notice when I slipped behind the server, crouching low so he wouldn’t see me making my way to circle around behind him.

“So what if Thomas stole some things from Jed? He deserved them, working as a butler all those years for a pittance. He didn’t have any nice clothes and he needed to look presentable when he opened the bank.”

“So you put the buckle and the note on Madame Zenda to scare people off.” Mom paused, then added. “But why use the Oyster Cove Guesthouse letter opener?”

“To scare people off, of course.” Myron wiggled the fingers of his free hand in the air. “Make people think the ghost did it because he didn’t want anyone in his house.”

“That’s why you kept coming over,” Millie said. “You weren’t checking on the progress of the renovations, you were checking to see if anyone had figured out the real truth. And maybe you were a little afraid that someone really had been talking to Jed’s ghost.”

“Ha! I ain’t afraid of no ghost. But I did have to make sure no one found out the truth,” Myron said.

“So you tried to scare us off with those ghost noises,” Mom said. “How did you do that?”

“Remote.” Myron sounded pleased with himself.

A large box blocked my path and I moved it slowly so as to make no sound as I thought back to when we’d heard the noises. Myron had seemed frightened, ducking behind Mom and Millie… or so I’d thought. Now I realized he’d actually been hiding back there so no one would see him work the remote.

“But where did you put the recorder that made the noises? We looked everywhere,” Millie said.

“Oh, I bet that’s what he was doing out by the barn!” Mom answered.

“That’s right, too bad you figured it out too late.” Myron’s voice took on a sinister tone and my heart pounded as I wedged myself in between a marble-topped bureau and a Victorian sofa with most of the horsehair stuffing exposed.

“But why?” Mom asked. “Everything happened three hundred years ago.”

“Because if they knew the bank was started with stolen money they could take it away. The heirs, those cheesy guests you had here a few weeks ago, might try to get the money back. I couldn’t risk anyone finding out the real truth…” Myron was starting to sound manic.

I quickly pushed another box out of the way and suppressed a sneeze. My quest was stirring up a lot of dust and I wasn’t making much progress, I just hoped I’d get behind Myron in time to do something.

“The real truth?” Millie sounded confused.

“That’s right, its worse than stolen money!” Esther’s voice had a triumphant ring to it and I popped my head up over a cherry Chippendale server to see that she’d broken from the group and was standing a few feet from Myron, her hands fisted on her hips. She looked round at the corners ofthe ceiling and projected her voice as if speaking to someone other than those of us present in the room. “Myron’s ancestor, Thomas Remington, killed Jed and put him in the wall. Then he dug up Jed’s treasure and used it to start the bank.”

“Oh, you don’t say,” Mom said.

“And that’s why Myron had to stop Madame Zenda… and now Victor… from telling the truth. He’s the killer!” Esther yelled.

“Fine, it’s true! And since my ancestor is a killer, then a few more dead bodies won’t matter!” Myron grabbed Esther and pulled her in front of him, pressing the gun to her temple.

Esther cried out.

The cats wailed.

I froze in place, not sure what to do. I was too far away to get behind Myron in time! Then I saw something strange. The bureau behind Myron started to shake, the boxes on top wobbled and then they started to topple, one by one as if an unseen hand was pushing them over.

Thunk!

Thunk!

Thunk!

The boxes hit Myron on the head, causing him to let go of Esther. He batted at them as they fell. Millie and Mom rushed toward him and my heart leapt. The boxes weren’t enough to render him unconscious and he still had the gun. What if one of them got shot?

The boxes had fallen around Myron, their contents spilling out on the floor. He was dazed but not out. Then the bureau gave one last wobble. A heavy, peacock-shaped alabaster lamp flew off and hit Myron square on the back of the head.

He crumpled to the ground and Mom, Millie and Esther dived on top. The cats joined them, Nero sitting on Myron’s backside and Marlowe on his ankles.

I rushed behind the bureau expecting to see Flora, just like the last time we caught a killer, but no one was there. It was empty except for a cold breeze and a few droplets of moisture on the edge of the bureau. I made a mental note to have Ed check the roof for leaks. Looking down, I saw the only footprints in the thick dust were mine. I would have suspected the cats, but not even a paw print could be seen, and I could have sworn they’d been in front of Esther when the boxes fell.

I glanced over the top of the bureau to see that Mom, Millie and Esther had taken the gun. Myron was out cold. Victor had woken up and was looking around, confused. Gail was standing over him and I do believe she was thinking about giving him a swift kick.

The bureau lurched to one side and I noticed the front leg was broken. Is that what had caused all the toppling? Either that was a lucky coincidence or, perhaps, other forces were at work. I didn’t have much time to think about it because just then I heard footsteps running in our direction. Anita Pendragon burst out from between a gilt-decorated armoire and a tall pine hutch.

She surveyed the scene, catching her breath. Her eyes went from Victor tied up to Myron lying on the floor. She whipped out her camera and started snapping pictures.

“I don’t know what the heck you people are up to here, but it looks like I finally got myself a scoop!”

Twenty-Seven

Four days later….

The scent of molasses and cinnamon filled the Oyster Cove Guesthouse kitchen. Millie’s Aunt Gertie’s famous molasses cookies were in the oven, but they weren’t for guests this time. All the guests had left, so the baked goods were just for Mom, Millie, Mike and me as we sat around the old kitchen table discussing the strange turn of events over the past week.

Nero and Marlowe were at their stainless-steel bowls in the butler’s pantry enjoying a treat of salmon and looking quite pleased with themselves. They deserved the treat as we all felt they’d tried to help capture Myron.

“Hard to believe that Myron went to such lengths to cover up the original murder of Jedediah Biddeford.” Millie stood by the counter with an oven mitt on her right hand, ready to grab the cookies as soon as they were done.

“He had to, otherwise the bank could be in trouble because the initial funds were from ill-gotten gains,” Mike said. “He confessed to everything.”

“He sure went to a lot of trouble. Imagine killing someone and leaving that note and buckle!” Mom said.

“And using the Oyster Cove Guesthouse letter opener as the murder weapon to scare people off. He must have nabbed that on one of his visits,” I added. “He thought it through.”

“Yep,” Mike said. “He’ll be going away for a long time. I heard the Biddefords are suing the bank to get the original value of Jed’s treasure plus interest.”

“Oh dear,” Millie said. “I hope that doesn’t affect Josie’s loan on the guesthouse repairs.”

“I think the bank will be okay,” Mike said. “The Biddefords will settle for enough to get their cheese-sculpting business on track and make improvements. Plenty of money will be left. Myron’s cousin is taking over bank operations, I’m sure he’ll honor the loan.”

“Actually, I’m not worried about that. I got a little windfall from Esther.” I tapped the large manila envelope that sat in the middle of the table. I’d received it earlier that morning and was quite shocked at the contents.

Mew!Nero and Marlowe trotted over at the sound of Esther’s name. The cats had meowed at the window for twenty minutes when she left three days ago. She’d turned and waved goodbye to them, then studied the house for a few seconds before getting into the airport shuttle. She’d said something funny to me about “not worrying about the grand old house” right before she went out the door, but I hadn’t paid it much attention until the envelope arrived.

“What’s in it?” Mom asked.

I tipped the envelope and a pile of hundred-dollar bills slid out, along with a note.

Mom gasped.

Millie dropped the oven mitt.

Mike frowned.

“Where in the world did that come from?” Millie asked.

“Remember the secret hiding spot in the outhouse?” I asked.

Mom and Millie nodded.

“Well, turns out Estherwas in there. Somehow she’d figured out that there was a secret hiding spot in there and she found a bunch of old coins. I guess she didn’t feel right keeping them and she sold them for modern currency and sent it to me to help with the repairs on the guesthouse.” I pulled a note out from under the bills. “In her note it says that she fell in love with the house and hopes the money will go a long way to helping restore it to its former glory.”

Mike angled his head sideways to read the note.“Huh. So, I guess she onlyseemed suspicious because she was looking for clues to the identity of Jed’s killer the whole time.”

“Yep,” I said.

“Interesting. I wonder why she was so keen on figuring out who Jed’s killer was and not as interested in Madame Zenda’s killer?” Mike asked.

I shrugged.“It turned out that one led to the other, so it all came out in the end.”

“Fantastic!” Millie bent down to pick up the oven mitt. “I knew that she wasn’t the killer all along.”

Now I was the one frowning. I seemed to recall that she was almost certain Esther was the killer, if the interrogation she was subjecting her to prior to us rushing up to the attic was any indication.

Mom was frowning at her, too.“But Millie, you said—”

Millie interrupted her with a wave of the oven mitt.“That’s all water under the bridge now. Seth did commend us for catching Myron. Of course, he claimed he was just about to wrap up the case with his own evidence, but there’s nothing like catching the killer with a gun in his hand pointed at the potential next victim.”

“Speaking of which, I think Victor got off a little too easy,” Mom said. “I was rooting for him as the killer.”

The oven timer went off and Millie took the cookies out, talking to us over her shoulder as she scraped the cookies off the baking sheet with a spatula.“Gail was too. I know she was disappointed Victor didn’t get arrested, but he didn’t do anything. Victor did seem very upset by the whole thing, I wouldn’t be surprised if he walked the straight and narrow from now on.”

“I don’t know about that. He did try to fake the whole communicating with Jed thing and even buried a cache of coins in a burlap sack near the gazebo so he could dig it up later and pretend he’d discovered the treasure!” Mom said.

“Ironically, he’d purchased the coins at Myron’s own bank,” Mike said. “He blurted that all out to Sheriff Chamberlain without prompting. I don’t think he’d make a very good criminal. And burying the coins wasn’t illegal, so I guess he goes free.”

“Well, hopefully that will be the last we see of him. I would like to see Gail get her revenge for him causing such sorrow to her friend, but I suppose everyone can’t get what they want. Karma will get him in the end.” Mom tapped the town newspaper that had been sitting on the table. “Anitacame out ahead, though. She did get her scoop—though it wasn’t really the one she expected.”

The front page of the paper had the large image of Myron lying in the attic surrounded by the boxes and the various items that had fallen out of them. The cats were sitting on his backside and it almost looked like they were posing for the camera. Underneath a large caption read:Local Banker Thwarted by Ghost.

Anita had told us afterwards that she’d seen a shadowy figure—which we realized was Myron—lurking over by the side of the house just before the lights went out. She figured it wasn’t a power outage and went to the main electrical box, which was still located in its original position outside on the corner of the house, to investigate. It took her a while, but she figured out the circuits had been flipped and she turned the lights back on.

“Funny, though, it seems it took Anita a while to get up to the attic after turning the lights back on.” Millie took a large crystal plate down from the cabinet and started arranging the cookies on it. “And whatwas she doing lurking around here anyway?”

“She was meeting Victor. She said he had told her something big was going to happen and she might want to cover it.” I repeated what Anita had told me. “She claims she didn’t know he was planning on faking everyone out with those buried coins. She said she turned the lights on and then cameinside as it all seemed suspicious. She heard the noises, but it took her a while to figure out we were in the attic.”

“Probably took some time to snoop around.” Millie placed the plate of cookies on the table and we all took one.

“I see she’s still working the ghost angle.” Mike pointed to the headline.

“Yeah.” Millie broke off a piece of her cookie and nibbled on it. “But the producer is no longer interested, seems he has a more interesting story developing in some little town called Mystic Notch over in the White Mountains.”

“Well, it’s all for the best, because Anita doesn’t really have a ghost story here.” I was sure there was no ghost at the Oyster Cove Guesthouse.

“Yes, but how did those boxes fall on Myron?” Mom bit into her cookie.

“The bureau leg was broken. I guess it must have been ready to let go and the added weight of all of us up there on those old floors must have shifted things in such a way that the leg buckled and the boxes toppled at exactly the right time.” The timingwas suspicious, but that was my story and I was sticking to it.

“Maybe the cats had something to do with it,” Millie suggested. “If they jumped on the bureau, that could have been enough to cause the leg to break.”

Meow. Nero blinked up at us with his intelligent golden eyes. I was certain the cats were at Esther’s feet when the boxes toppled, but I didn’t say anything.

“Funny that Myron faked all that ghost business the whole time. He must have really wanted to scare people off.” Mom took a second cookie then paused with it halfway to her mouth. “Odd though, I wonder how he got things to keep falling off mantles and tables, even when he wasn’t here.”

I’d wondered about that too. “The house is old and settling and I think those things might have just fallen because things are uneven. Remember how Esther’s pen rolled toward the center of the room the night we caught Myron? It’s natural in an old house that things are uneven, right, Mike?”

“Sure, to some degree.” Mike didn’t seem as convinced at my explanation, but what else could it be?

“Of course that must be it,” Millie said. “And I’m glad this business is over. No more talk of murders or ghosts. I could use a little break from investigating.”

Mom scowled.“Well, I don’t know about taking a break from investigating, but I’m glad there’s a reasonable explanation for everything. After all, there’s no such thing as ghosts.”

Meow!

Thud!

The rolling pin, which had been on the counter, hit the floor. We watched in silence as it rolled toward the kitchen door.

“Well now.” Millie got up, gingerly retrieved the rolling pin and put it on the counter. “I guess that proves Josie’s theory about the house settling. As you can see, it rolled right toward the door. The counters must be a bit off level too. Maybe you should look into that, Mike.”

“Maybe I will. I’d love to have an excuse to spend more time here.” Mike’s pointed look made my cheeks heat and I ignored him, focusing on the tangy sweetness of the molasses cookie. “Or maybe you’d like to get away from Millie’s cooking and have dinner some time.”

I almost choked on the cookie.“Maybe.” I glanced at my mother. If she thought I was going on a date with Mike, she’d never let me live it down. But she wasn’t paying attention to our conversation, she was busy frowning at the rolling pin that was now innocently sitting on the counter.

Mom shoved the rest of her cookie in her mouth, tilted her head and looked at the ceiling.“Yes, I’m sure that’s it. The house is sagging. Has to be, since we all know there’s no such thing as ghosts.”

[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]

Nero pulled his tail in, out of the way of the rolling pin, which was picking up speed as it rolled toward the door. He glanced up at Jed.“Did you really need to do that?”

Jed smiled.“Sorry, just wanted to pull their legs one last time.”

“Onelast time?” A hopeful tone crept into Nero’s voice. Though he liked Jed well enough, he’d been secretly hoping the ghost wouldn’t stick around.

“Yeah, now that I’m free I’ve decided to hang around with Esther. I’m meeting her out at an event at some haunted house in Noquitt, Maine.” Jed winked at Nero. “Ha! We’ll show them what a real haunted house is like!”

“I have to admit that was quite a feat you pulled off in the attic.” Marlowe positioned herself at Mike’s feet and stared up at him adoringly. She knew he couldn’t resist that look and it usually resulted in a nice treat being handed under the table. “And here we thought you could only move small objects.”

“I thought that too! But when my Esther was threatened, I found the strength. I just couldn’t let that nasty banker hurt her! And to think Esther did all that and risked her life just to figure out who my killer was.” Jed beamed with pride.

“For a while I thought the killer might have been your wife’s ghost,” Nero said.

Jed ducked behind Millie’s chair. “Where?”

“I didn’t say I saw her, I just thought maybe all these shenanigans were her doing. You did say she couldn’t be trusted.” Nero put his paw on Rose’s knee and was rewarded with a tiny piece of muffin.

“Seriously?” Jed glanced around the room. “I mean, I’m not afraid of ghosts or anything, but I am afraid of my wife…”

“Nah, she’s not here.” Nero glanced around, his senses on high alert just to be certain. Nope. No ghostly vibes other than Jed’s.

“Oh, phew.” Jed came out from behind the chair. “Yes, she might have been in on it with Remington. And to think my trusted butler did me in and if it wasn’t enough to kill me and stick me in a wall, he stole my pen and my good shoes!”

“And the treasure,” Marlowe said. “At least now everyone knows that treasure is long gone and people will stop coming here looking for it.”

“Good thing Victor didn’t get to pull off his little stunt of digging up the coins he’d buried.” Nero hopped up on the bookcase and looked out the window. “The whole state would be here looking for more.”

“That was clever of you to send Esther for your little stash that was hidden in the outhouse. Good thing no one else discovered it all these years,” Marlowe said. “You could have told us it was there though.”

“Sorry I didn’t tell you. I was saving that for someone special. I’d hidden the coins there the night I buried the bulk of the treasure in the yard. I wanted to be able to get at some of my treasure. Couldn’t go digging the main stash up every time I wanted some extra coin. Course, I never got to even use any of it myself. I meant for Esther to keep that money, but she said it didn’t rightly belong to her. She loved this old house and wanted to see it fixed up like it was back when I lived here.” Jed looked at Josie. “We trust Josie to do that.”

Nero felt a rush of pride in his human. Josie might not be so swift in the area of cat-human communication, but she could definitely be trusted and Nero knew she was growing very fond of the guesthouse and would do right by it.

“So now that your killer has been named, you’re free to go to the other side.” Marlowe looked at Jed curiously. “But you choose to stay here.”

“Indeed. There’s nothing for me over there. But Esther and I have worked out a nice system of communication through her crystal ball.” Jed checked the clock on the stove. “Speaking of which, I have to sail off now. Gotta meet my lady. It’s been nice working with you cats. Perhaps we will meet again someday.”

And with that Jed slowly dissipated, leaving no evidence that he’d ever been there except for a slight mist on the floor.

The humans were cleaning up the dishes and Nero and Marlowe trotted to the front parlor. They were in dire need of a catnap. All this investigating was tiring.

“At least one of the guests here really could communicate with ghosts,” Marlowe said as she curled up in the blue velvet chair.

“I always knew Esther wasn’t the killer. She was too nice to us.” Nero chose a spot on the corner of the sofa. Resisting the urge to run his claws through the brocade fabric, he turned a circle, settling in with his tail wrapped around his nose.

“Yeah, but did you know who the killer was beforehand?” Marlowe asked.

“I suspected Myron,” Nero said. “But of course I didn’t want to say anything out loud. I mean, can you imagine if I’d suggested the whole thing stemmed from the fact that the butler did it? How clich?d! If on the off-chance I was wrong, I’d have been the laughing stock of the cat community.”

Marlowe slitted an eye open and looked at Nero, then sighed and snuggled deeper into the chair.“I’m glad both cases are solved. I’m looking forward to long restful days spent catnapping and chasing mice.”

“Me too,” Nero mumbled, already drifting off to sleep. “Hopefully it will be a good long while before another murder happens at the Oyster Cove Guesthouse.”