“Why would someone want to scare people away from the guesthouse?” Marlowe asked.
Poe shrugged.“Beats me. But if I’m right, then whoever it is has a reason worth killing for.”
Seventeen
The next morning breakfast went off without a hitch. The waffles came out golden brown and the guests slathered them in maple syrup and piled them on their plates. The frittata was cooked to perfection and not dry. I might be getting the hang of this cooking business after all…
I had a little bit of a scare when the cats started meowing in that way they do when something is wrong—like, for example, there’s a dead body on the property—but thankfully everyone was accounted for and near as I could tell no bodies littered the grounds.
I hadn’t forgotten about how the cats had tried to lure me to the attic, but they’d scattered after breakfast, so I decided to clean up while I waited for them to come back. I felt very strongly that wandering around up there by myself would be a waste of time. If the cats really did have something to show me, they’d be back.
Mom and Millie turned up while I was loading the last of the dishes into the dishwasher. It was a mystery to me as to how they usually ended up walking through the door just as I put the last dish in. They did have impeccable timing. I was too eager to tell them about my research from the night before and how I’d seen Esther sneaking around the property to marvel at how they always managed to get out of cleaning up. Maybe Flora had learned it from them.
“At least we know that Victor and Madame Zenda knew each other, but I suppose that’s no big surprise. Why do you think Esther would be sneaking around?” Millie whispered after I told them about the cruise that Madame Zenda, Esther and Victor were on and how I’d seen Esther outside. “Maybeshe was just out for a walk.”
“Nope. She was definitely sneaking. Skulking along the shrubs and looking behind her,” I said. “Looking for the trea—”
“Shhh!” Mom’s eyes were wide and she was gesturing not so subtly over my shoulder. I turned to see Esther in the doorway.
“Well, I’m just irate!” Esther hadn’t seemed to notice we’d been huddled in a group whispering.
“You are? Why?” I imagined all sorts of reasons she could be mad, ranging from the breakfast making her sick to Flora not cleaning her room properly to stumbling over another dead body. I prayed it wasn’t the latter.
“That banker guy… Marvin somebody—” Esther said.
“Myron Remington,” Mom said.
“Yeah, whoever. Short guy, owns the bank? I heard downtown at the post office that he’s been badgering you.” Esther turned kind eyes on me. She really did seem concerned about me and mad at Myron. Who could blame her? He did have a way about him that made people angry.
Millie didn’t see Esther in the same light as I did, if her narrowed eyes and accusatory tone were any indication. “Just what were you doing at the post office?”
Esther blinked.“Mailing postcards. I always do that when I visit a new town.”
“Oh.” Millie looked disappointed that her question hadn’t tripped up Esther, but I could see that she was assessing her to determine if she was lying about the postcards.
“Anyway, this place is so lovely I hate to think that nasty little man is being so controlling with the money. This magnificent house deserves to be restored.” She lowered her voice. “I heard he was making noises about taking back your loan.”
My heart twisted. Had that rumor been going around town? Esther could have easily heard it at the post office since that’s where most rumors were spread.
“Well, I hope he isn’t serious about that,” I managed to squeak out.
“Me too. This place has great spirit vibes. Intelligent ghosts. Wonderful history.” Esther’s eyes sparkled.
Millie perked up. She always did when someone complimented the guesthouse.“It is a special place. And not just the inside, either. The grounds are lovely.” Millie glanced out the window at the overgrown garden. “Well, the yard needs some work. Have you been out in the grounds at all?”
Esther looked down at her shoes.“Not really. I mean, I was out at Betty Sue’s body and I’ve sat on the porch.”
Maybe Millie was right to be suspicious because that was one whopper of a lie.
“What about the old buildings on the property? Some of them have great history.” I gave her a chance to fess up. Maybe she just hadn’t mentioned it or had forgotten.
“Oh no, I wouldn’t go near any of those old buildings. Nope. Never ventured far from the house. Well, except when we found Betty Sue, of course.” Esther cocked her head to the side as if listening to something in the hall. She seemed nervous. “I think I hear Victor. I better get back there.Wouldn’t want him to get a leg up on talking to Jed’s ghost. Good luck with your renovations.”
Millie’s brows shot up as Esther hurried out of the room. “Well, if that don’t beat all. I say that woman has something to hide.”
“She did seem genuinely concerned about the guesthouse.” I really did think she was sincere about that.
“Probably a ploy to throw us off track,” Mom said.
Meow!
Nero and Marlowe were sitting at the bottom of the back stairs; their unblinking gaze reminded me that I still hadn’t had a chance to get up into the attic.
Millie rushed over to pet them, but apparently they had other things on their minds. They accepted a few quick pets on the head but then started to meow and pace around, putting one foot on the stairs and then glancing at us.
“I think they want to show us something,” I said.
Mom looked at me funny, but Millie didn’t seem the least bit fazed. “It’s about time you started to understand their subtle communications. Hmmm… now let me see. It’s the attic, right?” She addressed her question to Nero, who meowed loudly and started up the stairs.
We followed the cats up the narrow creaky stairs. No wonder I never took these things; the ceiling was low, the walls closed in. It was claustrophobic. I got a little winded by the second floor but Mom and Millie practically ran up and I didn’t want to seem like a wimp, so I pressed on, even though the increase in temperature as we ascended caused sweat to drip down my back.
When we got to the top of the stairs I unlocked the door with the old skeleton key that I’d grabbed from the butler’s pantry, and the door opened with an ominous creak.
I’d only been up in the attic once, when I had looked over the place to buy it, and then I’d only peeked in. Even though I’d spent a lot of time at the guesthouse as a little girl, the attic had held no interest for me and now I could see why. It was dusty and full of cobwebs. Big cobwebs. I looked around for the spiders that lived in them, but they must have all scurried to dark corners.
There must have been a dozen generations’ cast-offs up here. During the negotiations to purchase the place, Millie had vaguely mentioned it came with all sorts of antiques and things I could use for the guesthouse. She’d made it sound like a bonus, but I’d been skeptical. Turns out I was right, the place was crammed full of things that needed some sort of repair and a good clean.
Nero and Marlowe led us on a path between old pieces of furniture, lamps and boxes. They trotted straight to the oldest part of the house. I sneezed a dozen times as our footsteps kicked up dust from the thick layer that was on the floor. It was so thick that the cats’ paws had made little prints in it as they’d walked ahead. I could see they’d been here a couple of times judging by the number of paw prints.
Up ahead, the cats were perched on an ancient trunk, their eyes tracking us as we approached.
“This is all the old stuff that was here when I was a little girl.” Millie looked around at the piled-up junk. This section did appear to have items that were much older… and much more deteriorated.
“The trunk looks ancient.” The cats hopped off as I approached. They stood at my feet, looking up at me as if encouraging me to open it. If I had any doubts before that the cats were trying to communicate, I didn’t now.