A Whisker in the Dark: A purrfectly unputdownable cozy mystery (The Oyster Cove Guesthouse Book 2)

Fourteen

The pungent smell of dead fish tickled Nero’s nostrils as he came around the side of the harbormaster’s station.

“Ah, we’re in luck. They’ve got fish scraps.” Marlowe picked up speed. Likely, she wanted to get to the others before the scraps were gone.

The other cats were already hunkered down near the lobster traps. Poe was chowing down on a halibut head. Juliette was finishing off a haddock tail. Stubbs was industriously picking clean the bones of a cod. Boots must have just finished eating and was now fastidiously preening his whiskers.

As Nero approached, a gull swooped down and attempted to steal a piece of fish away from Harry. Harry hung on with one claw. “Hey, give it back.”

Caw!

The gull flapped its wings with its beak deep into the morsel of fish.

Harry tugged. The gull pulled back.

“That’s mine, go get your own.” Harry tried to grab at the fish with both paws but the gull was stronger. He ripped the meat out of Harry’s paw and flew off. Nero could have sworn the gull’s cry sounded like “ha ha!”

“Stupid gulls. They’re a nuisance.” Harry sat back on his haunches and preened.

“I agree.” Juliette pushed a piece of her haddock over to Harry.

Stubbs finished picking the last bit off the bones of his cod and tossed a perfectly formed fish skeleton into the water, then looked at Nero. “So, what’s going on? You guys figure out who plugged the vic?”

“He wasn’t plugged,” Nero said. “He was bludgeoned with a shovel.”

“Hit from behind,” Marlowe added.

“From behind? So it wasn’t a fight, then?” Boots’s green eyes brimmed with curiosity. “Do you think they got him by surprise?”

“Good question. Someone could have snuck up on him, I suppose, or maybe he knew the person and wasn’t afraid to turn his back. I don’t see how that narrows it down much though.”

“It could have been one of his siblings, he was on the outs with all of them,” Marlowe said.

“Have you located the shovel that was used as the murder weapon yet?” Harry asked.

Nero shook his head. “It could be anywhere.”

“That makes our job harder. Almost everyone in town was out there last night with a shovel.” Boots tugged at his whiskers. “But you said you heard the victim argue with someone?”

“Several people,” Nero said. “Marlowe and I heard him argue with Earl.”

“And Josie heard him arguing with Carla. Josie claims that Carla even made a threatening comment about him,” Marlowe added.

“And Millie heard him arguing with Paula,” Nero said.

“What were they arguing about?” Juliette asked.

“Seems like it all stems from their cheese-sculpting business. It’s not doing well. It seems Bob had made threats to each of them.”

“What kind of threats?” Stubbs asked.

“It would appear Bob had something on them and might have been about to expose what he knew.”

The cats looked pensive. Everyone knew that mixing family with business was fraught with danger, especially if that business was having problems.

“Sounds like tempers might have been high. And maybe someone didn’t want Bob to make good on his threats,” Harry said.

“Bob was the most disruptive one, maybe Doris did him in so they could have harmony in the company again?” Marlowe suggested.

Juliette hissed. “The mother? I don’t think a mother would kill one of her kits. Not unless there was something wrong with it.”

“Sounds like there was plenty wrong with this Bob character,” Harry said.

“Yeah, it’s the age-old motive. Silence anyone who might drop the dime on you or is getting in the way of something you really want,” Stubbs agreed.

Poe picked a piece of fish out of his teeth with a razor-sharp claw. “In any case, I think we should be able to get some cheese samples out of this job. Maybe a pinch of Parmesan or a wedge of Wensleydale or a morsel of mozzarella.”

Juliette frowned at him. “Mozzarella? Do you think they would have that? I don’t think you can sculpt mozzarella. It’s not firm enough.”

“But it is delicious.”

“True.” Juliette smacked her lips together. “Maybe with some little tomatoes and basil or—”

“Kids,” Nero cut in. “Let’s stick to the question at hand. What course of action should we take to ferret out the killer? As you heard, our dear friend Flora has been accused by one of the siblings and of course we must make sure this doesn’t reflect badly on Josie.”

“We all know Flora could not have committed such a heinous crime,” Boots said.

“Surely Seth Chamberlain won’t think it’s Josie again? She has no motive,” Stubbs added.

Juliette jumped on top of the lobster traps. She often liked to get up higher than the rest so she could look down upon them, especially when she thought she had information that she considered to be important. “Don’t forget, I heard the woman confessing about betraying her family. I believe that could have been the killer trying to clear her conscience before committing the crime.”

“Do you think you would be able to recognize her voice? Was she one of the siblings at the crime scene earlier?” Nero asked.

Juliette shook her head. “In the confessional people whisper so you can’t recognize the tone that way. But it does narrow our suspect list down to a woman.”

“Who confesses to a murder before they commit it?” Stubbs asked. “The confession could have been about something else. I don’t want to narrow down the list prematurely.”

Juliette gave him a haughty look and jumped down off the lobster trap. “Fine, then you come up with a plan.”

“I have a plan,” Nero said. “I want you all to canvas the town. Sniff out all the shovels, see if you can find the murder weapon among them. The cops took the shovels from the Oyster Cove Guesthouse toolshed, but only the Biddefords used those shovels. If the killer is someone else, the shovel could be hidden somewhere around town.”

“Yeah, we can’t forget that the guesthouse grounds were lousy with diggers last night. Anyone could have whacked him,” Stubbs said.

“Poe, Stubbs, Boots, you check around the alleys and benches downtown. See if you can overhear anything or pinpoint guilty behavior. Harry, get the word out to your network that we are looking for the killer.” Harry was a scrappy street cat with a network of informants that would rival any cable network.

Harry nodded.

“Juliette, you stick close to the confessional at the rectory in case our confessor comes back. If your theory is correct, they may need to cleanse their soul of the guilt.”

Juliette swished her tail in agreement.

“Meanwhile, Marlowe and I will investigate the rooms at the guesthouse. If someone is hiding something there, we’ll find it.”

It was almost noon by the time Seth finished interviewing everyone and departed. Mom and Millie had left me with the ingredients and instructions for the apple-pecan bread and I had baked a trial loaf, which I left cooling on the counter before meeting Mom and Millie downtown to make the final touches on the Oyster Cove Guesthouse table at the town celebration. I hadn’t burned the cake this time, though it did smell a little bit like sour cider. At least I was making progress.

The Biddefords were ambling around the guesthouse, talking in hushed tones. They seemed to be in a somber mood again. I couldn’t imagine one of them had killed Bob, though the alternatives were also not that great. It had either been one of them, someone from town or Flora. Speaking of Flora, I hadn’t seen her since she’d talked to Seth in the kitchen, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. It wasn’t like she’d skip town or anything.

The town common was full of activity again. This time tourists were milling about, sampling the goods here and picking up brochures there. This weekend even more tents would be set up on the other side, part of a gigantic craft fair after the parade. The mood was festive, and maybe word about the murder hadn’t spread yet.

Stella Dumont was hovering around her table. She wore a tight V-neck shirt and a pound of makeup, and was meticulously fussing with her brochures, arranging them just so and standing back to admire the presentation. I glanced back at my table where my brochures lay in a messy pile. I sauntered over and started arranging them, peeking surreptitiously at Stella to see how she was doing hers.

“No copying. Just like in high school, Josie,” Stella said.

“I wasn’t copying.” Where were Mom and Millie? They had requested I meet them here and I hoped they’d hurry so I didn’t have to talk to Stella for too long.

“You’re always after the things I have. Like Mike,” Stella said.

I crossed my arms over my chest. “I heard you were after Myron now.”

Stella’s brows knit together and she laughed then continued fussing with her brochures.

“I think you’re after what I have now,” I said.

Stella paused what she was doing and looked up at me. “What do you mean?”

“I saw you in my yard digging for treasure last night,” I said. Technically that wasn’t correct. I hadn’t seen her in my yard, just scoping it out. But Millie had said she’d seen Stella and Myron so I figured that was almost as good as seeing her there myself.

“Oh, that. I just wanted to see what the fuss was all about. Who believes there is still an old treasure there anyway? That’s silly.”

“Well, lots of the townspeople were there so apparently not everyone thinks it’s silly,” I said.

“People love to gamble. Look at how many play the lottery. People just came out because there was a chance there is treasure. I don’t think too many actually believe in it.” In the corner of the tent sat Myron, donning his perfectly pressed suit. He’d snagged a young couple and was pointing to something in one of his brochures. Trying to sell them a loan no doubt. “Even people who already have money can be lured by the dream of finding treasure—even if they don’t deserve more.”

What was that all about? She sounded mad at Myron. Had he given her the brush-off? She couldn’t really be interested in him, could she? Maybe it was all his family money. Mike was a lot more handsome. Not that I was comparison shopping or anything.

Her words made me wonder. Why would Myron be out there digging when there was only a slim chance anything would be found? He wasn’t the type to get his hands dirty and his family came from old money. Maybe the bank wasn’t doing well… was that why they had a table here? The First Oyster Cove Bank and Trust didn’t usually need to drum up business. It was the only bank around and everyone in town used them for their checking accounts, loans, investments and savings.

“How’d the bread come out?” Somehow Millie and Mom had snuck up and were standing beside me.

“Not too bad. At least I didn’t burn it.”

“That’s good.” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “And what about the suspects? Did anyone blurt out a confession?”

“Unfortunately, no. The closest we came was Earl with the shoes.”

“Those shoes! Can you believe he put them down on Grandma Sullivan’s tatted doily?” Millie glanced up at me. “Flora did clean that off, didn’t she? I hope it doesn’t stain.”

I wondered about that. Flora cleaning it, I mean, not the staining. Flora had made herself scarce after talking to Seth in the kitchen and I couldn’t really say I blamed her. It doesn’t feel very good to be accused of killing someone—I should know.

I made a mental note to check on the doily as soon as I got home. Millie seemed distraught about it, so I wanted to make sure it got cleaned even if I had to do it myself.

“Actually, I haven’t seen Flora since we talked with her and Seth this morning.” I glanced over at the grandmothers of twins’ table, but Flora wasn’t there. “She didn’t say she was taking any time off, but she might have been busy cleaning when I left.”

“Flora? I thought she’d be preparing for her trip.” Annabel Drescher piped in from the table to our left. Clearly, she’d been eavesdropping.

The table was for the Drescher Travel Agency that Annabel owned. It was decorated in a turquoise-and-coral beachy theme, no doubt to entice innocent celebration-goers into buying one of their expensive Caribbean beach packages. Annabel was dressed to the nines as usual with a fancy tailored suit, understated but expensive jewelry, and what looked like a very expensive leather handbag resting next to her chair. Probably keeping it within arm’s reach in case someone tried to make off with it. Naturally, the handbag matched the pair of designer shoes she had on her size-nine feet.

“Trip? What do you mean? Flora isn’t going on a trip, is she, Josie?” My mom turned to me and I shook my head. That was the first I’d heard of any trip.

“Oh yes she is. She was in the travel agency asking about some coordinates.” Annabel straightened some pamphlets.

“Coordinates?” Millie asked.

“Yeah you know longitude and latitude. She was a little bit off though because they ended up in the Caribbean Sea but I think she wanted the island of Martinique. At least, that’s the package I’m gonna try to sell her,” Annabel said.

“Did she say when she was going on this trip?” I asked. Flora hadn’t mentioned any plans, which made me a little suspicious. What was going on with her? Of course, I couldn’t imagine that she’d have killed Bob but where would Flora have gotten the money for a trip? She was always complaining about how hard it was to survive on social security and a maid’s wages. As far as I knew, she was broke.

“You know she was a little vague about that when I asked. Said she’d have to come into a lot of money to afford it. But she must’ve been expecting some soon because why else would she be asking about a specific place?” Annabel shrugged and smiled, showing her ultra-white teeth, just like the ones Jaws showed right before he tried to eat the boat. “I don’t try to force them. Whenever someone comes in with a hankering for a vacation I know sooner or later they’re gonna buy.”

I exchanged a glance with Mom and Millie. This was not looking good. Flora thought she might come into some money, Paula claimed to have seen her rushing away from the scene of the crime, and Flora had denied that. What if Seth’s theory about Bob finding the treasure and someone killing him over it was true? And what if that someone really had been Flora?

I didn’t have long to think about it because a voice boomed from behind us.

“Heard about the goings-on at your place!” We all spun around to see Myron Remington standing there looking superior. “Seems like you’re racking up the bodies like nobody’s business. Maybe you should get a loan for a new wing. A mortuary wing.”

“I don’t think that’s anything to make jokes about, Myron,” Millie said.

“No joke, actually. I really could give you a loan. I have some great rates right now and I’d love to see that old place fully restored.”

I eyed him suspiciously and thought about taking on a loan. On the one hand, it would be great to get the house done in one fell swoop, instead of working on it a little at a time, but I was also maxed out on monthly bills. I couldn’t pay the note on a loan no matter how good the interest rate was. “I’ll think about it, Myron.”

He nodded. “Hey, how is the investigation going on that skeleton? Did I hear it ended up being Jedediah Biddeford?”

“That’s what Seth says, but there’s not much of an investigation going on. My daughter pointed out we could have a forensic anthropologist look into the old bones. Might be able to tell us more.” I couldn’t help the tinge of pride that snuck into my voice at the mention of Emma’s suggestion. Maybe I should suggest that idea to Seth, though not right now. In light of finding another body on my property, it would be best to steer clear of Seth Chamberlain and avoid making him feel like I was telling him how to do his job.

“That seems like it would be quite a waste, doesn’t it?” Myron fiddled with his silk paisley tie. “You know how I hate wasting money.”

“Well it wouldn’t actually be your money, Myron, but yes it does seem like a waste,” Millie said.

“Speaking of your money, did I hear you were in my yard trying to find the treasure last night?” I asked.

Myron looked taken aback. “Treasure? No. Why would I dig up treasure? I own a bank.”

“So you weren’t in my yard? With Stella Dumont?”

He looked sharply over at Stella’s table and she turned her back on him. “I should certainly say not. I couldn’t even get a shovel to dig up treasure if I wanted. Your maid Flora got the last one.”