Nero turned to her.“Good observation. But even if we cannot apply our noses to the buckle, we do have an informant who can.”
Marlowe’s green eyes widened. “Of course! Why didn’t I think of that? We can ask Louie Two Paws!”
Louie was a polydactyl Siamese that hung around at the police station. He often came in handy when the cats wanted insider information on cases. Marlowe jumped down from the arm of the chair where she’d been perched and started out of the room. “Come on! Let’s go downtown. We can visit Louie and consult with the gang first, then we’ll check out the attic when we come back.”
“The gang” was a group of cats that all helped to solve the various mysteries that cropped up around town. Unbeknownst to the humans, the cats had been doing this for decades. They wanted to keep the quaint ambiance of the town of Oyster Cove and having killers and thieves running around wouldn’t do. Of course, the cats couldn’t let on to the humans that they were the real masterminds behind solving the crimes, they had to make it look like it was all the humans’ doing. It took a bit of cleverness to accomplish that, as humans could be rather dense when presented with clues, but Nero prided himself on the fact that they had a perfect record and no one suspected their involvement.
Nero was about to trot after Marlowe when he caught a whiff of spicy sausage.“We’ll leave momentarily. But first, we might as well slip into the dining room and fortify ourselves with some sustenance. We’ll need energy for the trip downtown. I’m sure Esther will slip us some treats and if we skulk along the edges and then hide under the tablecloths, Josie will neversuspect we are in there.”
Nero trotted off toward the dining room. His stomach growled in anticipation and he was only the slightest bit worried that he could be eager to accept treats from a cold-blooded killer.
Ten
Breakfast was a somewhat solemn affair. Esther, Victor and Gail sat together at one table. I hadn’t seen them sit together before and didn’t know if they were clustered together for comfort or to keep their enemies close, each being afraid the other had murdered Madame Zenda.
The smell of sausage and coffee lured me closer to the buffet server and I picked at a lemon muffin as I eavesdropped on their conversation.
“I just can’t believe Madame Zenda was murdered right under our noses!” Gail wailed into her napkin.
“Speaking of which.” Victor narrowed his gaze on her. “Where were you? That scream roused me out of a deep meditation. It was loud enough to wake the dead.”
Gail sniffled and reached for her tea. She turned to Victor, a wan smile on her face, but not before I noticed a hint of malice in her eye. Was it simply that she didn’t like the guy? I couldn’t say I blamed her there, he was annoying. Or was she angry he called the fact she didn’t come running last night to everyone’s attention?
“I’m hard of hearing.” Gail pointed to her right ear. “I drank some chamomile tea and was out like a light. With my hearing problems, I never heard a thing. When I got up, the police were here wanting to question everyone. Imagine my shock when I found out why.”
Guess she hadn’t seen the murder in her tea leaves. A movement under the table caught my eye and I tilted my head just in time to see a ginger-and-black tail disappear under the tablecloth. Marlowe. I was sure Nero wasn’t far behind. Or probably in the lead. He seemed to be the instigator. I watched as Esther broke off a teeny piece of sausage and slipped it unobtrusively under the table.
There was no point in shooing the cats away. I didn’t want to call attention to them in case the other guests hadn’t noticed their presence. I’d also learned that telling them not to do something only made them do it more. Best to let them skulk around unnoticed. They seemed to be able to pick out the guests who didn’t mind having cats in the dining room and were able to hide their presence from those who did, so there was no harm.
“You ask me, it could be that reporter. She discovered the body.” Esther glanced out the window as if expecting to see Anita skulking around.
“But why would a reporter want to kill Madame Zenda?” Victor asked.
Esther shrugged.“Maybe Madame Zenda wouldn’t give her an exclusive.”
“Oh, did Anita ask you for an exclusive too?” Gail asked Esther.
Esther’s eyes dropped to her plate and she got busy eating the rest of her breakfast. “Maybe.”
Gail turned to Victor.“What about you? You’ve been awfully quiet with all your meditation. Did you talk to the reporter too?”
“I’m not quiet, I just don’t associate much with beings on this earthly plane. I prefer to spend my time on spiritual endeavors. I’m perfectly happy to wait for Jedediah to contact me as I’m sure he intends to do,” Victor said, avoiding the question.
Gail took a sip of tea, then looked down in the mug. Was she looking for something in the tea leaves?“But he was already going to talk to Madame Zenda. Why talk to the rest of us too?”
“Pffft… I doubt Biddeford’s ghost was going to contact Madame Zenda, as she has no psychic talent. She was probably making that up for the benefit of the reporter. If such an article got picked up for syndication it could have helped her flagging career.” Victor fluffed his napkin onto his lap with an exaggerated flourish. “You ask me, we should all be wary. There’s a killer on the loose.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure that Madame Zenda didn’t have any psychic talent. She did predict a death… too bad it was her own,” Esther said, echoing Mom’s words from last night.
Just then, the phone in the foyer shrilled. Darn it! I wouldn’t be able to eavesdrop anymore.
I rushed to the foyer and plucked the wireless phone off its cradle.“Oyster Cove Guesthouse!” I chirped in my most pleasant tone. No need to sound somber as if a murder had just happened the day before, that wouldn’t encourage potential guests to reserve rooms.
“Hi, this is Dolores Johnson.”
I hesitated, the name was familiar.
The person on the other end continued,“I had a reservation for next week.”
“Of course! Good to hear from you Mrs. Johnson. How can I help you?”
“Well, I hate to say it, but I have to cancel.”
My spirits fell.“Cancel. But why?”
“Ummm… you see… we’ve decided to go somewhere else on vacation. I read on your website that you can cancel up to seventy-two hours in advance and get a refund, is that correct?”
“That’s correct. So you’re sure you want a refund? I can’t guarantee the room will still be available if you change your mind again.” The guesthouse wasn’t fully booked, but you never knew when new reservations would come so it wasn’t a total lie.
“Oh, I’m sure. Thank you.”
I hung up the phone and stood there. Taking a vacation somewhere else? It was more likely word of the murdering ghost had gotten out. Maybe Myron was actually more perceptive than he let on. If news was spreading and people were afraid to come here, then I had to put a stop to it, and I knew of only one way—catch the real killer and then the newspapers would move on to more interesting stories.
I heard footsteps on the stairs and turned around to see Flora coming down. She had the big pink feather duster in her hand and was running it over the banister as she descended. She glanced down at me, the magnification of her large glasses exaggerated at that angle.“Something wrong?”
I sighed.“I just got a cancellation. I’m afraid all this ghost and murder business might be scaring people off.”
“Darn, that’s too bad.” Flora swished the duster in the air and a shower of dust rained out of it. “I don’t like that one bit. Of course, fewer guests mean less work for me but more guests mean job security and that’s more important. Guess I was right in shooing that reporter off then.”
“You mean Anita Pendragon? The one who has been hanging around outside?”