‘Do you really think so? They are birdwatchers. And they’re kind of old to be getting up to murder. If you ask me, they seem like the least likely suspects.’
Nero looked at Marlowe sharply.‘Never underestimate the older ones. Look at Millie, she can do anything that people half her age can do. And she’s smarter than most of them too.’
‘I suppose you’re right. Sorry.’ Marlowe said. ‘We should be sure to follow all leads anyway. That’s what you taught me.’
Nero turned back to the window, a feeling of self-satisfaction washing over him. The young cat really did pay attention to him. He watched the elderly couple getting out of the car. They didn’t look so elderly from here. In fact, they looked kind of spry. Cameras dangled from their necks as they hopped out of the car and practically sprinted to the front door, their heads bent conspiratorially together. ‘Yes indeed, we will need to watch the Weatherbys closely. Sometimes it is the least likely suspect that is the culprit.’
Ten
The next morning, I slid the brunch egg dish casserole into the oven an hour before breakfast. It was piping hot and smelling fabulous when the guests arrived in the dining room. Breakfast was punctuated by the clink of forks on plates and the rustle of the breeze coming through the window. They talked in hushed tones. At least they were all there. No one had defected in the middle of the night to a different hotel.
I hovered near the mahogany buffet where I’d laid out Millie’s breakfast quiche, orange juice that I’d juiced myself in my Jack Lalanne juicer, English muffins, a fruit bowl and, of course, coffee.
I was impatient for the guests to eat quickly and go. Mom and Millie would be here soon and I was eager to fill them in on the bad review and make a plan to visit the Mariner.
Today, Tina sat with the Weatherbys. They were still mothering her after yesterday’s tragedy. Here they were, taking care of Tina out of the goodness of their hearts not knowing she could be the killer! At the very least she was sneaky, having had an affair with Charles and being seen creeping around his room. Funny though, she didn’t look like a killer with her innocent wide gaze and perfect complexion.
As I studied Tina, she daintily bit a teeny tiny morsel of the muffin. Was that how she stayed so thin? I glanced down at my waistline, which I liked to refer to as voluptuous. I wasn’t fat, but I certainly wasn’t thin. I was probably going to stay this size, because I doubted I could nibble an English muffin like Tina was doing.
She hadn’t touched the rest of her food, either. Maybe if she had she wouldn’t be so pale and wan looking. Was her appearance due to the stress of hiding that she was the killer, or was she just upset her lover had died? I still couldn’t believe Tina would have the know how to sabotage the stairs at the crime scene, as Mike had suggested.
Stella on the other hand…
‘I say, Josie, you’ve really outdone yourself.’ Ava was sitting at the table next to the Weatherbys and Tina. She held up a forkful of the quiche and nodded at me.
‘Thanks.’ I didn’t feel the need to mention that it was actually Millie who had made it.
The Weatherbys stood, patting their mouths with the white linen napkins that matched the tablecloth.‘Yes, quite delicious today.’
Tina pushed some eggs around the plate with her fork.‘It was, truly.’
Mike appeared in the doorway earning an appreciative glance from Tina– and also from Ava if I was not mistaken. The Weatherbys nodded to him as they exited.
‘Hey Sunshine.’ He helped himself to coffee.
I rolled my eyes and faked a smile.‘You must be almost done with your work here.’
Mike sipped the coffee and made a face. I wasn’t sure if the face was about the coffee or the mention of his work. ‘Sort of.’
‘What do you mean? You have a set list of tasks that Millie paid you for. I don’t have money for extras.’
‘The extras are on me. Seeing as were such old friends.’ He moved closer. Too close really. Dizzily close. I stepped away, my butt hitting up against the sideboard. Ava watched from her table, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
‘So, ummm… did you want something besides coffee?’ I asked.
‘Uhhh yeah…’ Mike glanced over at Ava then back at me. He lowered his voice. ‘The police tape is gone in the West wing and I wanted to show you something.’
I glanced longingly back at the buffet table. I really wanted to clean this stuff up. But I also wanted to see whatever it was Mike had to show me. It might lead me to the killer’s identity. Maybe a miracle had happened overnight and Flora would come in and clean up the breakfast dishes.
‘Okay.’ I started toward the door and Mike followed, putting his hand on the small of my back. I sped up and his hand fell away. Who did he think he was? That was getting just a little too friendly and I didn’t like the way my stomach tightened and I got all hot-flashy.
As we passed into the foyer, I ducked behind the little podium I used as a checkin desk to get the key to the door that shut the West wing from the rest of the guesthouse.
The Weatherbys came down the stairs juggling various cameras and binoculars. When Ron Weatherby reached the bottom, he nearly dropped one of the cameras. Mike lunged to catch it before it smashed on the wood floor.
‘Hey, nice Nikon,’ Mike admired the camera before handing it back to Ron. ‘Is that one of the new models that has the automatic closeup focus?’
Ron frowned at the camera.‘Yeah, it’s the newer model.’
‘So do you use it for closeups of birds in the trees?’ Mike asked. ‘Can you set the autofocus so it works in all lighting and situations?’
Ron glanced at Iona, then down at the camera again.‘Yeah, that’s just what we use it for. It took me a while to learn how to fiddle with all the dials and everything.’
Mike’s brows knit together as Ron took the camera back.
‘We’re going out to do some birdwatching on the beach,’ Iona smiled and tugged Ron toward the door.
‘Have a great time,’ I said.
Mike watched them leave, an odd look on his face.‘That was strange.’
‘What you mean?’ I asked.
‘Well his answer about the camera was kind of odd. There aren’t any dials to fiddle with on those.’
‘Really?’ I watched them hop into their car and drive off. ‘Well they are old, maybe he didn’t know what he was talking about or couldn’t remember or used the wrong words?’
Mike shrugged.‘Maybe. Come on, let me show you what I found in the room.’
We proceeded down the hallway to the West Wing door. I was glad to see the door was still locked. Barbara would have approved, though I was sure she’d find something else wrong to complain about. I opened it and we stepped inside. The room had a creepy stillness to it. My stomach tightened as I glanced over at where Charles’ body had been. You could make out all the footprints in the dust and a dark stain. Blood? I was sure Flora would saythat cleaning blood was not in her job description.
‘Look over here.’ Mike pointed to the stairway where several of the treads had been broken. The small section of the railing that was left dangled precariously. It had appeared at first that Charles had slipped, perhaps grabbing at the railing, which gave way, causing him to tumble down the stairs and hit his head.
‘Looks like the stairs collapsed,’ I said.
‘Itlooks like it. But, if you look closely, you can see that the stairs were sawn from underneath.’ Mike got down on his hands and knees and gestured for me to follow suit. He tilted his head to the side to look at the treads from underneath. I did the same. I had to get very close to him to see what he was pointing at. There was definitely something fishy going on underneath those stairs –and it wasn’t the way Mike had gotten me on my hands and knees so easily either.
‘You can see how they sawed away just enough so that a light amount of weight would cause the stairs to break. But they didn’t cut all the way through, so at first glance the wood is splintered like it rotted and gave way. But when you look closer you can see the even break underneath.’