“That’s a steamer trunk,” Mom said. “For going on ships. Very old.”
“It must have belonged to Jedediah Biddeford!” Millie lifted the top. It creaked and groaned as she pulled it up gently.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Mom said as she peered in.
“The old buckle.” Millie reached in and started pushing the items aside. The smell of mildew wafted up and I sneezed again.
The trunk contained old clothing and personal items. Mom gingerly held up the shoulders of a disintegrating tweed suit.“This looks like the suit Jed was wearing in that drawing. You know, the one in the Oyster Cove history book.”
Millie glanced at the suit.“It sure does. And if that’s in here, maybe those shoes are in here. And if the shoes are in here… are the buckles with them or is one missing?”
We carefully moved the items aside. No shoes.
“No shoes. No buckles.” Millie looked excited. “Do you think this is where the killer got the buckle from?”
“Who had been up here?” Mom asked.
“Ed said he heard someone and thought it was Anita Pendragon.” I glanced around at the dusty attic floor. “But…”
“Any of the guests could have snuck up here, though,” Millie said.
“Wait, something isn’t right.” I swiped my finger through the thick layer of dust on an oak table that sat beside the trunk. “The floor was covered in dust when we came up. The only thing disturbing the path to this trunk was the cats’ paw prints. I remember looking at them.”
We all looked back toward the path, which of course was now marred with our own footprints.“There’s another path from the corner there.” Millie pointed to a row of furniture and boxes, which had been pushed aside to form a narrow path, but it had a layer of undisturbed dust. “Hmmm, no footprints there. So how would someone have gotten to the trunk?”
“They couldn’t. Not unless they hopped across the furniture,” I said.
“Or floated over like a ghost.” Mom glanced around the room as if expecting one.
“There is no ghost.” Millie closed the trunk. “The shoes and buckle were probably never in here. We don’t know for sure that the buckle on Madame Zenda was actually Jed’s. I’m sure there are other old buckles that look like his. Now let’s get a move on, we have suspects to scrutinize.This buckle angle is a dead end.”
Meow!Nero hopped up on the trunk and cast an accusatory glare at Millie.
Meroo!Marlowe weaved on the path in front of us.
“I know you guys mean well.” Millie picked up steam as we neared the attic door. “But I’m not sure what you wanted to tell us. We already know this is all about the psychics pretending they are talking to Jed. Is that what you were trying to tell us?”
Meoooo.
Meope.
Millie ignored the cats’ meows as we funneled out onto the second-floor landing. Flora was there, dusting a bench that sat underneath the window. She gave our dusty clothes a look of disapproval and then tried to dust Mom off with her feather duster.
“What have you people been doing up in the attic? It’s dirty up there and I have enough work as it is,” Flora said.
“We were just looking for something.” Millie pushed the duster away as Flora turned it on her.
“Well, I hope you don’t expect me to clean up there. I don’t do attics. Hard enough to keep the regular house clean. And I hope you don’t expect me to be cleaning the outbuildings either,” Flora huffed.
“Outbuildings?” I asked.
Flora nodded.“And don’t you listen to any of those crazy guests either. I keep the bathrooms clean as a whistle. I don’t know why that crystal ball lady thinks she needed to resort to using the outhouse.”
“Esther? You saw her in the outhouse?” Mom raised her brows at me. “Is that where you saw her, Josie?”
“No, I saw her near the barn. That’s pretty far away.” I turned to Flora. “Are you sure you saw her in there?”
“Do you think I’m blind?” Flora pushed the thick glasses up on her nose. “Just because I wear these doesn’t mean I can’t see. Like right now, I can see Myron Remington as plain as day.”
We all swiveled to look out the window. Flora was right. Myron was standing by the side of an old shed. He was looking around as if assessing the grounds. My gut clenched. Why would he be doing that? It was almost as if he were scoping out the place, trying to figure out what he would do with the property when he seized it for non-payment of the loan. I could just imagine visions of condos or a strip mall dancing through his head.
Mom, Millie and I clustered around the small window, watching as he looked out toward the ocean, then back at the shed. We jumped back when his gaze drifted to the house.
“What is he doing out there?” Mom asked.
“Looks like he’s checking out the grounds. Maybe he thinks you need to get the landscaping done, Josie,” Millie said.
“Maybe.” I hoped that was all it was, but the way he was looking around I didn’t think so.
“Well, I don’t like him showing up here all the time. I mean, it’s not like he bought the place, he just gave you a loan. I have a good mind to run down there and tell him so.”
Millie started toward the door, but I put my hand on her arm to hold her back.
“Maybe it’s better if we just let him go about his business. This will all blow over after the killer is caught and these guests figure out they can’t talk to Jed.” I hoped.
Millie sighed.“Fine. I suppose you’re right. All the more reason for us to figure out who the killer is before Myron comes up with a reason to renege on the loan.”
“Don’t let him get mud in here.” Flora’s glasses reflected light from the window as she turned to me. “I just spent a good hour cleaning up the mud one of them traipsed in. It’s enough cleaning up after the guests, but you need to do something about keeping the whole town from traipsingin!”
The whole town?“I’m sorry about that, but Myron did give me a loan and I want to stay on his good side.”
“Yeah him too, but he’s not the one who traipsed mud in the back entry. That was a mess to clean up,” Flora said.
“Well then who did?” Millie asked.
“Anita Pendragon. You ask me, that nosey reporter is up to something.”
[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]
Marlowe rolled her eyes at the backs of Josie, Rose and Millie as they exited the attic.“I guess they didn’t get our drift.”
“Don’t be too harsh,” Nero said. “Josie did understand we wanted her up here. They just didn’t get the part about the shoes being missing.”
Marlowe sighed.“I suppose we can’t expect too much. They don’t have our superior skills of deduction so wouldn’t know the shoes had been there.”
“To be fair, we did have Jed to tell us that. I’m not sure we would have figured that out on our own, either.” Nero secretly enjoyed putting Marlowe in her place sometimes, but fair was fair.He might have been able to sniff out the fact that the shoes had once been in there, but he was sure Marlowe wouldn’t have. But without Jed to lead them up here and tell them about the shoes, he was certain that he wouldn’t have even thought of it.
“I don’t know about that Josie. She seems a little dense.” Jed tapped the side of his head. “Doesn’t catch on fast and she didn’t even lock the door when they left. Not like my girl, Esther. Now that one’s a keeper. Much nicer than that shrew I married.”
Jed’s face got all pinched, apparently with memories of his dead wife. Was he wondering if the shrew had killed him? If she had, could Nero prove that somehow? He glanced around at the stacks of boxes and papers. Maybe the murder weapon was in one of these boxes and he could sniff it out. Or there might be an article in one of the papers showing Helena Biddeford unusually happy after her husband’s death.
“It’s still a bust. As Josie said, there were no footprints going to the trunk, so who could have taken the shoes?” Marlowe’s words dragged Nero back to the present. They had a more important murder to solve right now. Jed’s murder could wait.