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

Seventeen

I shook off the silly notion that Jedediah’s ghost was killing people who had been searching for his treasure and fed the cats. They seemed to appreciate their meal of turkey chunks and gravy if the way they circled around my feet and rubbed their cheeks on my ankles was any indication.

I bent down to pet them, and they rewarded me by butting their soft heads against my hand and purring. My relationship with the cats was improving greatly. I’d never had a cat before buying the guesthouse and I had to admit they were actually quite good pets.

“You know, you guys are actually pretty great. I’m glad to own you.”

The cats abruptly stopped their purring and rubbing, and looked at me with eyes that were practically shooting daggers.

“I mean, I’m glad you guys own me now.”

That must have mollified them because they continued their purring and rubbing—it was as if they could understand every word I’d said.

The cats went back to their bowls and I stood and watched them eat for a few seconds. Unlike humans, the cats seemed to appreciate most things I gave them, except when they were being finicky. Turns out cats are pretty good company too. Maybe even better company than husbands. I certainly enjoyed my relationship with them more than the last several years—possibly even the last several decades—with my ex, Clive.

I left the cats to their bowls and pulled out Millie’s recipe file. I needed to find something for breakfast the next day. The Oyster Cove Guesthouse didn’t provide lunch or dinner, but the guests sure did expect a spectacular breakfast.

I riffled through the file, discarding the ones that seemed like they were beyond my skill set or that had too many ingredients, when the back door opened and in came my mother and Millie.

“I hope you don’t mind us just walking in, dear.” Millie came over to inspect the recipes I’d pulled out. “Are you planning for breakfast tomorrow? That’s very good. You need to plan ahead when you are running an operation like this. What are you going to make?”

The cats immediately ran over to greet Millie but I noticed this time they hesitated just for a second, looking up as if to assure me that even though they were meeting their old friend Millie, they still knew that their new friend—me—was the one who fed them. I found that heartwarming even if it was likely just my imagination.

“I’m not sure. I was thinking about maybe a quiche or a frittata, but I’ve never made a frittata…” I glanced at Millie hopefully. So far Millie had helped me cook most of the breakfasts I’d served. I guess she felt a responsibility to keep up the reputation of the guesthouse in that department. I didn’t mind.

“We have a lot going on, so I think a quiche would do. You know you can make those ahead of time.” Millie selected a broccoli quiche recipe and put it on the counter. “You have some leftover cooked white rice from our Chinese takeout the other day, don’t you?”

“Yep.”

“Perfect. I don’t like to waste food. We can use that up in here,” Millie said. “You know, back when I ran the guesthouse in my younger days, I used to like to pre-prep. Some things like the frittata must be prepared fresh that morning, but I always preferred doing something the night before, that way I didn’t have to get up early. I could just rush down, heat it up and then put it on the breakfast buffet with the other items. I never did like to get up early.”

“All those late nights out with your boyfriends,” my mother teased.

Millie blushed and fluffed her hair. “Well now, I guess I’ll just start assembling these ingredients.”

She opened the cupboard and took out some salt and pepper, then grabbed eggs, cheese and milk and the rice out of the fridge before taking the frozen broccoli out of the freezer and popping it into the microwave. “It’s always a good idea to have some frozen veggies around, comes in handy when you need to whip up a quiche.”

I nodded. The broccoli must have been left over from when Millie owned the place. I certainly didn’t remember buying it.

As she worked, she talked. “Did you learn anything new about…” She jerked her head in the direction of the pond.

“I talked to Jen and she said people around town think Jedediah’s ghost came back and committed the murder.”

My mother gave a nervous laugh, her eyes darting around the room as if she expected a ghost to manifest out of nowhere. “That’s ridiculous. Isn’t it?”

“Yes, of course it is.” Millie cracked an egg into a bowl and started beating it. “That man was definitely killed by a human. He was bludgeoned over the head with a shovel. Ghosts would do something less physical.”

“I think all of Bob’s siblings are still suspects. I’m not sure about Flora, she did say she was out there… but she didn’t kill Bob, of course.” I chewed on my bottom lip. Should I mention to Mom and Millie that she’d sort of lied? Millie would probably say she had just been forgetful, she was quite old. I wondered if the police still suspected her.

“I haven’t talked to Seth Chamberlain, have you?” I asked. Millie always could wrangle sensitive information out of him.

Millie blushed. Just as I suspected, she’d been doing more than talking with Sheriff Chamberlain. Good thing for us though as we could use all the information we could get.

Millie added rice to the egg and beat faster. “I happen to know the siblings are still suspects but don’t tell anyone I told you.”

“All of them?” my mother asked as Marlowe jumped up onto her lap. “I thought maybe Earl had cleared himself with the shoes.”

Millie nodded. “Yes. His Nikes do seem to clear him, but who can believe what Paula said? Maybe she didn’t see fancy shoes at all.”

“And is she a suspect?” I asked. “I mean, she does admit she was in the proximity. She says she was asleep under the bench, but she could be lying about that.”

“I don’t think we can rule any of them out because they all argued with Bob,” Mom said.

“And Flora didn’t,” Millie added. “She has no motive.”

“Other than the treasure,” Mom added.

“If only we knew what those arguments were really about we could determine if his siblings had something to kill over,” I said.

“And let’s not forget about Myron Remington. He was acting very strange and overly interested in the case. He dresses fancy. I bet he has a pair of Italian leather shoes like Paula said she saw. Didn’t you see him here last night, Millie?” my mother asked.

“Yep. I think he was with Stella Dumont, but you’re wrong about one thing. He’s not really interested in Bob’s case, he’s more interested in Jedediah’s case. The skeleton,” Millie said. “He was asking Seth all about it.”

Millie had mixed grated cheese in with the egg and rice and she pressed that into a pie plate to make the crust. I watched carefully. Millie made it look easy.

“Myron said he wasn’t here that night,” I said. Millie turned to look at me, her left brow quirked up. “I asked him directly.”

“I saw him. I know it was him,” Millie said.

“Why would he lie?” my mother asked.

“If he was with Stella he might not want anyone to know,” I suggested.

“Or maybe he’s the killer and pretending he is interested in the skeleton as an excuse to find out more about the police investigation into Bob’s murder,” Mom said.

Millie mixed the rest of the eggs and the other ingredients together and poured it in the pie plate on top of the egg and rice crust. The cats begged and she tossed them a piece of cheese. “I don’t know. Myron has always been worried about what people think. Always boasting about how his family has been here for generations, as if that was some sort of pedigree. He probably just didn’t want anyone to know that he’d lowered himself to the level of regular folks.”

“Did Flora say what she was doing down by the pond? Or even if she was there?” Mom asked.

“Not to me,” I said. “I didn’t hear her deny Paula’s accusation either though.”

Millie pressed her lips together. “Seth didn’t mention what he talked about with Flora. I know he thinks I am biased about her. But if Paula is telling the truth and she was awakened by the shoe stepping on her hand, then saw Flora, that means Flora was coming down the path after the person with the fancy shoes,” Millie said. “Do you think Flora might’ve seen something and is afraid to talk about it?”

The cats meowed loudly. They were over by a small bookshelf that held ephemera related to the guesthouse. All kinds of old brochures, menus, pictures. Nero swatted at the little blue plastic ring from a milk bottle that had fallen on the floor and it skittered under the bookshelf. The two cats peered after it, then Marlowe snaked her paw under to retrieve it.

“She might have seen something, but I doubt it,” Millie said. “I mean, have you ever seen Flora afraid to speak up?”

“Good point,” I said. “And what about this business about a trip to the Caribbean? Why would Annabel say Flora was taking one if she isn’t? Or if she is, why would Flora lie?”

Millie waved her hands dismissively. “Annabel probably thinks if she says it enough times Flora will think it’s her idea. She’s doing a big renovation on her travel agency and I bet she needs the money. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s saying that about everyone—you know, planting the idea sort of like a subliminal message.”

“Maybe. I just hope Seth will leave Flora alone now. He has many more interesting suspects to consider,” I said.

“Not the least of which is Jedediah’s ghost.” Mom stared at the cats, who were now staring at the bookcase as if mesmerized by something the rest of us couldn’t see. “Maybe Nero and Marlowe know more about that than we do.”

Mew!

They turned to look at us as if they knew we were talking about them, then continued playing with the plastic ring, Nero swatting at it and sending it skidding into the butler’s pantry.

“Oh, go on.” Millie waved her hand in the air. “You don’t believe that, do you?”

“Maybe not, but plenty of people do believe it.” Mom glanced at me. “I just hope it doesn’t hurt the reputation of the guesthouse.”

“All the more reason to figure out who really killed Bob so the rumors can stop.” I would like nothing better than to solve this case quickly and move on. I hadn’t gotten a reservation for the guesthouse in the last couple of days and soon the Biddefords would be leaving. I needed new guests to pay the bills. And I didn’t need something like a lingering murder investigation to scare them off.

Millie shoved the quiche into the oven. “I’m just going to cook this for a while to let it set and you can heat it up tomorrow morning. Now, let’s talk about the town celebration. Are you all set with the rest of the display items and the loaf cakes?”

“Sure.” I was a bit reluctant to stop the murder discussion since I really wanted to figure out who the killer was, but I supposed that talking about something else would give our collective subconscious time to work on all the clues and suspects. “I’ll dig up that book on the guesthouse history from my room tonight. I made a trial batch of apple-pecan loaf.” I gestured toward the loaf I’d left cooling.

“I saw that. Was wondering when you were going to let me try it.” Millie cut into the loaf and I held my breath as she took a bite and swirled it around in her mouth like she was taste testing fine wine.

“It’s okay. A little tart.” Millie picked up the recipe card and looked over the recipe. “Oh yes, I remember this one. You might want to add a pinch more sugar. Plenty of people like it sweet. And you have the little mini loaf pans and bows?”

“Yep.” I can’t tell you how relieved I was the loaf had passed Millie’s taste test. Sure, she’d complained about it being tart, but the fact that that was all she’d had to say was a high compliment. Millie had given me these cute miniature tinfoil loaf pans, pink plastic wrap and red bows. She’d said the presentation would draw people to my table. I was afraid I needed as much help as I could to get people in my line and out of Stella’s, so I was willing to try anything, even if it meant pouring batter into dozens of tiny pans.

“Okay.” Millie brought her hands together and looked at my mother. “What do you say we leave Josie to it? The bingo game at the senior center starts in thirty minutes and it’s a double pot tonight. Don’t want to miss it.”

“You guys take off, I can handle this.” I gestured toward the oven.

“Great.” Millie pointed. “Let that cook for twenty more minutes, then let it cool and put it in the fridge. Heat it up tomorrow morning for about fifteen or twenty minutes. Easy peasy.”

The cats trotted out to say their goodbyes and Millie and Mom went out the back door. As I was watching them go, Millie turned and said, “Don’t worry, Josie, everything will work out perfectly. You’ll see.”

“That’s right,” Mom agreed. “But you might want to burn some sage, just in case those rumors about Jedediah’s ghost really are true.”

No sooner had Mom and Millie left, than the front door opened and I heard the Biddefords come in. At least they wouldn’t be digging up the yard tonight. The police had taken their shovels, but I also doubted they would be so cold-hearted to want to dig when that’s how their brother had been killed. I lurked in the hallway, hidden by the staircase—not to eavesdrop, but to give them some privacy. Okay, maybe I wanted to eavesdrop a little. They were my prime suspects and one of them might say something incriminating.

“I think a nice simple service with no wake is fine,” Carla said. “We don’t really need to rub elbows with any of Bob’s unsavory acquaintances, so there’s no need for a wake.”

“If the police ever release the body,” Earl said.

“Maybe someone could do a cheese sculpture of a dove to put on top of the casket?” Doris asked.

The kids mumbled their agreement.

“White cheddar would work well for that,” Paula said.

“Boy that Marinara Mariner sure has spicy sauce. I’ll be up all night.” Earl burped.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have eaten so much,” Carla said. I could hear her sniffing. “Did Josie bake something? Maybe we should make sure the kitchen isn’t on fire.”

The siblings laughed and I resisted the urge to march right out there and give them a piece of my mind. I’d burned a few loaf cakes since the Biddefords had been here, but I didn’t burn everything I put in the oven.

“I’m going to bed to see if I can get some sleep,” Arlene said. “It’s kind of freaky knowing there is a murderer running around. I knew this town was weird. Luckily, we’ll only be here a few more days. I don’t even care about the town celebration or how Earl’s ancestors practically founded Oyster Cove anymore.”

“You can say that again,” Carla agreed. “And honestly, I don’t know if I want to sleep in this creepy old house with Jedediah Biddeford’s ghost rambling around. I don’t want to be his next victim.”

“You don’t really think there is a ghost here, do you?” Arlene scoffed.

“That’s what they’re saying in town.”

Great. People were starting to believe this murdering ghost nonsense. Now even the current guests were afraid to stay. I heard the stairs creaking as they all went up to bed.

“You know, it would make sense that it would be Jed’s ghost,” Earl said. “I mean, who else would want to kill Bob?”

“You mean other than one of ush?” Paula slurred.

“Yeah,” Earl said. “Maybe Bob really did find something and Jed made good on his curse to harm whoever messed with his treasure.”

“Stop it!” Arlene admonished. “I won’t sleep a wink. There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“Well I, for one, hope there really is,” Doris said. “And I hope Jed is rambling around in here. In fact, I hope he pays me a visit tonight.”

“Why is that?” Henry asked.

“Because then maybe I can persuade him to tell me where he hid the darn treasure!”