The cats had trotted off to the side and were sniffing around under the stump of a large oak tree. Nero glanced back, catching my eye. Was there something of interest over there? But no sooner did I wonder that than the cats came trotting back and sat down next to me, staring at the footprints as if they, too, were considering them as evidence.
Mike pressed his lips together as we all studied the prints.“There are more prints than when I was here before.”
“Someone else has been here!” Mom said, as if she wasn’t stating the obvious.
We’d seen Myron lurking near the barn from the upstairs window. I turned to survey the landscape, I could barely see the barn roof through the overgrowth, it wasn’t close, but if Myron wanted to see the property up close he might have walked here from there or been here first. “Maybe Myron?”
Mike squatted down to look closer at the prints.“I don’t think so. He wears dress shoes all the time and I don’t see a print that matches that. Looks like work boots and some kind of tennis shoe or sneakers. Small size, so probably a woman.”
Exactly what I had concluded. Too bad I hadn’t said that out loud, I could have shown him that you don’t need to have a past as a navy investigator to make logical deductions.
Merooooo. Nero and Marlowe hopped up onto what was left of the gazebo railing and sat, their tails twitching as they looked down at us.
Millie squinted up at them, then her gaze fell on the stairs.“Look there’s mud on the stairs. You were right, Mike, someone has been in the gazebo.”
Mike smiled indulgently at his aunt.
“But why?” Mom gave the structure a critical look. “The place is falling apart. Why would someone risk getting hurt by going in there? I mean, you could get splintered, or lockjaw or a broken leg.”
“Must be something of interest in there.” Millie gingerly picked her way up the broken steps. “And there’s only one way to find out what that is.”
Mereee!
Nero and Marlowe jumped down from the railing and headed to the other side of the gazebo, scurrying under one of the built-in benches that lined the walls.
“Better not go up there…” Mike’s warning was too late, Millie was already at the top step.
“I think the cats are trying to tell us something.” Millie rushed over to the other side where the cats were now waiting.
Mike sighed and started up the steps.
“Yep, footprints over here too!” Millie yelled. Her knees popped as she crouched down beside the cats. They were zigzagging back and forth, their interest centered on something beneath the bench.
“Better not mess around up there, Aunt Millie. It’s not safe!” Mike probably knew she wouldn’t listen to him. I mean, even I knew that when Millie was hot on the trail of something she didn’t stop for anything.
“Oh, it will be fine.” Millie’s voice was muffled because she had her head under the bench. “Besides, the cats want to show me something.”
Not wanting to be left out, Mom and I scurried up behind Mike. The first thing I noticed was muddy footprints and they weren’t ours because the mud had dried. The second thing I noticed was that the cats were pacing back and forth atop the bench that Millie had her head under.
The third thing I noticed was that Mom had joined Millie and now both of them had their heads under the bench. There must have been a hole in the floor because Millie’s right arm was digging around for something.
“I think I see something shiny under here,” Millie said. “Do you see it, Rose?”
Mom stuck her head further under to the sounds of more joints creaking. She was practically lying down trying to get a good look into the opening.“There it is! To your left.”
Mike and I exchanged exasperated looks.
Mike bent down and tugged at Millie’s left arm. “Here let me do that. You shouldn’t be doing this at your age.”
Uh oh… that comment was going to backfire on him. Millie sprung up, hands fisted on her hips. Mom backed out of the hole and looked up at Mike incredulously.
“I thought I raised you better than that! Talking about a lady’s age. And besides, I am not old!”
Mom jumped up and brushed the dirt off her pants.“Yeah, we aren’t old! I’m surprised at you, Michael Sullivan.” Mom reverting to using Mike’s full name was not a good thing.
Mike didn’t seem fazed. He crouched down and felt around under the bench. At least his remark had done the job of getting them off the floor. Perhaps Mike was more clever than I thought.
Mike pulled a small black-and-chrome device out from under the bench.“Huh, looks like a tape recorder.”
“Aha!” Millie grabbed for it. “This must be what made the ghostly noises!”
“Someone hid it under that bench,” Mom said.
Mike took it back from Millie and looked it over. To me it looked just like a small black box with some switches, like a cell phone.
“Let’s see if you’re right,” Mike said. “This is a pretty simple device, looks like it just records and then plays back.” He glanced toward the house. From here you could just see the top of the roof. “But I don’t think the sound would carry all the way to the foyer of the guesthouse.”
“Poppycock. It has to!” Millie grabbed for it again, but Mike pulled it back. “Let’s hear what’s on it.”
Mike fiddled with the switches and studied the display. Finally, he pressed a button but all that came out was a repeat of the conversation we’d just had.
“You must have messed with it and put it on record. You have to rewind it.” Millie grabbed it out of his hand and fiddled for a few minutes, but still the only thing it had on it was our conversation.
“Maybe we recorded over it, or the perpetrator set it to automatically erase the sounds after it played,” Mom said. “You know, destroy the evidence like how the secret message would self-destruct in that movieGet Smart.”
“Maybe.” Mike didn’t look convinced. “At any rate, someone did put it here for a reason. Unless it fell out of a pocket or something. Maybe we should call Seth Chamberlain.”
“And what? Tell him we found a tape recorder with nothing on it?” Millie asked. “I’m sure he’ll rush right over.”
Meow! Nero was at the top of the steps, looking over his shoulder at us. Clearly he wanted us to head back to the guesthouse with the evidence. Marlowe was already halfway down the path.
“See? Nero has the right idea. We need to confront the perp with this. We’ll pretend like the evidence is still on there and get a confession.” Millie headed down the steps.
“I don’t think—” Mike’s sentence was interrupted by an alarm on his phone. He dug it out and looked at the display. “Shoot. I have an appointment for an inspection over on Glendale. I have to go.”
“Darn. That’s too bad.” Mom hurried down the steps after Millie. “You’re going to miss all the fun.”
“Hey, wait up!” Mike jogged to catch up to Millie and I followed behind. I hoped he wasn’t going to give us his lecture about not investigating. “Aunt Millie, don’t forget the person who hid this might be dangerous. Don’t do anything rash on your own,” Mike said.
Millie stopped and turned faux-innocent eyes on her nephew.“Oh don’t worry, we won’t do anything rash without you.”
He looked at her skeptically, and with good reason, as from where I was standing I could see she had her fingers crossed behind her back. I purposely avoided eye contact with him.
Mike sighed.“Hey, you’re grown women.”
“That’s right,” Mom said. “We can handle ourselves. Now you run along and we’ll just take this tape recorder inside for safekeeping.”