“Sounds good.” Millie disappeared into the fridge and came out with the ingredients for the frittata.
Mom pushed in beside Millie and pulled out some string cheese.“That’s smart thinking,” she said as she pulled off a string from the cheese and dangled it into her mouth. “Everyone loves a sweet and savory combo and maybe that will have them raving about the breakfast and talking about the dead body not so much.”
Millie put the spinach, eggs, milk and cheese on the counter and preheated the oven.
The cats appeared in the kitchen and trotted over to sniff at the oven, then fixed me with their intelligent eyes. I was relieved to see that Nero had dust on his whiskers, indicating that it had probably been them that caused the thud. It looked like theyhad been in the attic. I knew it was dusty in there. Not that I was worried about it being a ghost or anything, more like a nosey guest. Or Anita Pendragon. How the cats had gotten in there, I had no idea. Maybe there was a secret passage or something. Come to think of it, one of those old servants’ rooms had a door with a crack in it that led straight to the attic, the cats could probably fit through that.
Millie bent down to pet them, but they had another agenda.
Meow. Nero glanced at me, then trotted over to the narrow servants’ stairs that led to the attic.
Meroop. Marlowe was right behind him, her tail fluffed up as she trotted ahead of Nero, then looked back as if to see if we were following.
Nero kept giving me the eye. I thought back to the previous murders. Each time someone had been murdered the cats had seemed to be suggesting things to me. I could have sworn they’d helped me out of a few scrapes, maybe even saved my life. I was starting to believe that what Millie had said about cats being smarter than humans was true. Maybe I should take their advice under consideration. And right now, it looked as if they wanted me to follow them upstairs.
I was just starting toward the stairs when Myron’s voice bellowed from the foyer. “Josie! I’m here for my notebook.”
Millie’s face scrunched up. “Is that Myron Remington?”
“Yeah, he mentioned he had left his notebook and pen here.” I reluctantly turned away from the stairs, ignoring the protesting meows and exasperated looks from the cats.
“Can’t he get a new notebook?” Mom asked. “Such a cheapskate.”
“Well he does like the finer things. Did you see his notebook has a leather cover and that pen looks very old and expensive.” Millie focused on beating the eggs and I left the two of them in the kitchen and headed to the foyer to meet Myron.
“I see a murder hasn’t scared these people off yet,” Myron said when he saw me coming down the hall. Unfortunately, he said it loud enough for the people in the parlor to hear him.
Victor called out from his spot next to the fireplace where he was sitting in a chair swinging some sort of talisman in the air.“Scare us off? No way. Now more than ever I know that I’ll be able to communicate with Jed and solve the mystery not only of his death and where the treasure is buried, but also who killed Madame Zenda or Betty Sue or whatever her name was.”
“What do you mean?” Gail asked. “I thought Jed killed Madame Zenda.”
Victor waved his hand in the air.“I doubt it, but if he did I suppose he will confess to me.”
Esther had been sitting over by the table with her crystal ball in front of her. The cats must’ve followed me into the hallway because they were now both sitting in her lap. She was petting and cooing to them.
She eyed her crystal ball and softly said,“Don’t think that you’re the only one who can talk to Jed. You might be surprised at who else has psychic abilities.”
Victor jerked his head in her direction.“I’m not worried about you wannabes. I know I’m the only real psychic and so does everyone else.”
He glanced out the window and I followed his gaze and saw a swirl of pink. Anita Pendragon? I’d have thought the murder would have scared her off. Especially if she was the killer. But apparently the chance of getting a story scoop that could be made into a movie was too enticing.
I also noticed the window was open again, even though Flora and I had been making sure we kept them closed. Did Anita have a cohort inside that left it open so that she could overhear our conversations? For all I knew she was taping everything we said.
“So no one is leaving then?” Myron asked.
They all shook their heads.
Myron glanced at me and I smiled. This was good. Now that Myron knew that the guests weren’t scared off, maybe he’d curtail any thoughts about canceling the loan. I didn’t need to mention the cancellation I’d already gotten. That was probably a fluke.
“The only thing that would get us to leave is if the real ghost was here trying to kill off another one of us.” Gail frowned down into her mug, apparently reading something she didn’t like in the tea leaves.
Millie had come down the hall and was standing next to me. Mom was right behind her.“Good thing that so far he doesn’t seem interested in killing anyone.”
Thunk!
Another candlestick fell off the mantle and we all looked at it suspiciously. Even the cats seemed distrustful of the fallen object.
Gail picked it up and put it back.“Weird.”
I could practically see thoughts of hauntings whirling in Myron’s head. Luckily there had been no other signs of a ghost—like eerie moans or lights flickering. At least I had that on my side.
Victor stared at the candlestick.“Say, is anything in here an item that belonged to Jed? I can speak to the departed more easily if I am holding one of their objects, you know. Preferably something he favored.”
I looked around the room. Most of the belongings had come with the sale. I glanced at Millie.
“Not anything in here. These things belonged to my family,” she said.
Victor looked disappointed. Myron was staring at him with a mixture of dread and suspicion.
“So, Myron. You’re probably in a hurry, I know how busy you are. I’ll walk with you to the west wing to get your notebook and pen. You can see how nicely Ed is progressing with the work.” I quickly ushered him down the hall. The less time Myron spent in the guesthouse the better as you never knew when the next weird thing was going to happen.
Myron’s notepad and pen were right where he’d left them in the ballroom. Ed didn’t appear to be keen on seeing Myron again, muttering something about Myron leaving them on purpose so he could have an excuse to come back and see me. I hoped he wasn’t going to start leaving things around just so he could stop by. He’d been here enough in the past week already.
I tried to ignore Ed’s mutterings as I shoved the pen and notepad into Myron’s hand and then rushed him out the front door before anyone could say anything that might make him even more nervous about the financial situation at the guesthouse. I wanted him to leave on a high note thinking things weren’t so bad. If the current guests weren’t considering defecting from the guesthouse and staying at the Smugglers Cove Inn down the road, then it wouldn’t harm future guests and therefore my loan.
When I returned to the kitchen Millie and Mom were getting ready to leave.
“We gotta run, Josie. It’s bingo night tonight. I think you can handle the clean-up.” Mom gestured to the countertop now littered with food scraps, dirty bowls and utensils. “The frittata is in the oven, don’t forget to cover it when you reheat it tomorrow otherwise it will be too dry.”
“Yep, no problem.” I wondered if I could get Flora to do the dishes. Probably not. I’d heard her vacuuming upstairs earlier and I was sure she’d claim to be exhausted.
I set to work cleaning up, periodically checking the dish in the oven. I’d had a little bit of a problem with burning baked goods a few weeks ago and was extra cautious with cooking time as a result.
The clean-up gave me time to think. If these incidents were not due to a ghost—and I was sure they weren’t because there was no such thing as ghosts—thensomeone had killed Madame Zenda. Would that person stop at one person? Was Madame Zenda killed because the person believed she could talk to Jed and wanted to stop her? Or was there some other reason that the murderer wanted her dead?