A Whisker in the Dark Read online

  Millie shrugged. “Good question. I doubt it because if Myron and Carla dug it up, they’d have taken off together, wouldn’t they?”

  “Treasure or not, it’s something to look into,” Mom said. “Flora is still a suspect and we need to help Seth close this one fast before those rumors about this place being haunted spread too far and hurt bookings.”

  Millie tapped her finger on her lips. “Indeed. But how can we approach Seth with this? He’s already suspicious of any clues I give him because he thinks we are biased as to Flora’s innocence.”

  “I know the dates that Carla and Myron were at Yale, which proves they could have known each other,” I said.

  “Yes, but that’s not concrete evidence. We need something more.”

  Mom snapped her fingers. “The shoes! Paula saw fancy Italian leather shoes. Earl was wearing Nikes but he’s not the only one who likes to dress fancy.”

  Millie put her hands on her hips. “Those could have been Myron’s shoes she saw.”

  “So all we have to do is get Paula to identify the shoes, preferably while Myron is wearing them and in front of Seth Chamberlain so that he’ll have his physical evidence,” I said.

  “Easier said than done,” Millie said, peeking into the oven to check on the loaf cake. “We need to get Paula to run into Myron somehow when Carla isn’t around.”

  “I know how we can do it,” Mom said. “The beer tent is open today and they’re having free samples. All we have to do is mention that to Paula and drop the hint that we are on our way to the beer tent, then offer to give her a ride.”

  Millie nodded. “And once we’re down there, we will just take a little stroll past Myron’s bank table. I know he’s there today trying to trap tourists into investing in something at the bank.”

  “But how do we get Seth in on this?” I asked.

  Millie whipped out her phone. “Easy. I’ll call him and bribe him to come and meet us there. I just happen to have some of his favorite cookies in the car.”

  Twenty-One

  “I think the beer tent is over there.” Paula twisted around, pointing in a direction behind us and almost stumbling as she pulled her heel out from where it had sunk into the grass. I grabbed her elbow to steady her.

  “I know. We’re just going this way to get our free tickets,” Millie said as we propelled her toward Myron’s tent.

  Millie glanced at me behind Paula’s back and grimaced for telling the lie. A little white lie was necessary sometimes in an investigation. Still, Paula wouldn’t miss out on her free beer—she’d be well rewarded after she identified Myron’s shoes to Seth. Hopefully Myron would be wearing the same ones, or at least something similar that Paula would recognize and spark Seth’s suspicions.

  “I hope Jed’s ghost doesn’t show up here.” Paula scanned the crowd. “Though I guess he won’t be after me. I didn’t take any treasure. I wonder if Bob did? And if he did maybe Jed took it back because no one’s found it yet and Bob certainly didn’t take it with him. So if Jed took it, there won’t be any more killings because he’ll have his treasure and the curse will be broken.”

  Paula’s train of thought was pretty logical even if it was a bit rambling, but my mother glanced over at her as if she were crazy. “I doubt it was Jed who killed Bob.”

  “Well, that’s the rumor I heard,” Paula huffed. “Who else could it be? Certainly not your maid that I saw running from the scene. She’s too old, now that I think of it.” Paula frowned as if considering her own words. “Or maybe it was your maid. Some of those old people are pretty strong.”

  Flora had been acting strangely. I had no idea if she actually was strong enough to have clobbered Bob, but I saw her move the antique carved-mahogany couch out from the wall to get behind it with the vacuum, so she was pretty strong. And what was this business with the vacation?

  But if Flora had stolen the treasure why would she still be hanging around the guesthouse? Unless she hadn’t actually found the treasure and Bob’s murder was for nothing. What was I thinking? Flora wouldn’t kill someone, no matter how valuable a treasure was involved.

  Up ahead at Myron’s table, I saw a familiar figure lurking about. Annabel Drescher stood in front of one of the plastic displays that held interest-rate information. She snatched a pamphlet out and looked around furtively. I caught her eye and waved, but she pretended not to notice me. Maybe she didn’t want to be seen associating with someone whose maid was accused of murder?

  “Looks like Arlene has some competition.” Paula’s gaze was pinned on Annabel as she walked away. “Fancy duds and even shoes like Earl’s.”

  Wait, what? I swivel around to check out Annabel’s shoes. Paula was right, they were Italian leather similar to Earl’s. Suddenly I was second-guessing my Carla–Myron theory. Maybe Flora wasn’t lying about the vacation. But why would Annabel make that up… unless she was trying to cover something up or distract us.

  “Oh look, you can get a home-equity line of credit for three percent, maybe you should tap into that for the renovations?” Millie’s comment redirected my attention from Annabel to Myron’s table.

  Paula inspected the pamphlets closer, her eyes clouding over in confusion. “Where are the tickets for the beer tent?”

  “Beer tent?” Myron’s eyes darted from Paula to me. “Are you interested in a loan?”

  I glanced around for Seth. Millie had said he’d be meeting us here and we had to stall until he showed up so we could get Paula to identify the shoes in front of him. Mom jabbed me in the ribs and jerked her head toward the big display touting the low-interest-rate loans. Guess that would be a good way to stall.

  “As a matter fact I am,” I said. It wasn’t totally a lie, either. Extra money would help me complete the renovations sooner. Too bad I didn’t actually have much money to make the payments until business picked up. It was a catch twenty-two. I needed the loan to accommodate more guests, but I needed more guests to pay the monthly rate on the loan. “You know, I have that whole west wing over at the Oyster Cove Guesthouse and the sooner I can get it renovated the sooner I can get more guests in. Do you have anything special, preferably with a delayed payment schedule?”

  Approval radiated from Millie at my quick reaction, but before Myron could launch into his spiel, Seth showed up.

  “Hello, ladies.” Seth nodded at each of us, but his gaze lingered on Millie.

  “I made your favorites, Seth.” Millie held up the bag of cookies and opened it, tipping the bag forward so we could all see inside. She tipped the bag further forward, letting one cookie slide out onto the grass as if by accident. “Oh, dear me. I’ve dropped one.”

  She dropped to her knees and made a show of rooting around in the grass under the table for the cookie. “What lovely shoes, Myron. You’re always such a sharp dresser.”

  Myron tugged at his tie uncomfortably, a look of confusion crossing his face. “Um… thanks.”

  Millie tugged on Paula’s arm. It didn’t take much to get her to stumble and Millie pulled her down so she could see Myron’s shoes. “Aren’t those lovely, Paula?”

  “Sure, they’re very nice but I don’t see any beer-tent tickets.”

  “We’ll get to the beer tent. Don’t you worry about that. But do these shoes look a little familiar to you?” Millie asked.

  Myron shot up from his seat. “What is the meaning of this? Why are you so interested in my shoes?”

  Seth was watching carefully. He might seem like a dunderhead, but he actually could be rather sharp sometimes. He’d caught on that Millie had an ulterior motive here and was smart enough to keep quiet and see where this would lead. Perhaps all of Mom and Millie’s meddling in his investigations really had given him respect for their skills.

  “Familiar?” Paula stumbled to her feet and glanced around behind us. “If there’s no tickets I’m just going to—”

  “Take another look, Paula,” Millie said. “I think these might be the shoes that woke you up the night Bob was murdered.”r />
  Paula’s eyes widened. She bent down again to look at the shoes. She scrunched up her face, closed her eyes and then opened them one at a time. “Well, they are fine Italian leather like the ones I saw. Very similar. Let me see the backs. I mostly saw the backs as the person was running away.”

  “I certainly will not.” Myron looked at Seth. “Do I have to?”

  Seth shrugged. “What’s the harm? Unless you have something to hide.”

  Myron marched out from behind the table and spun around.

  Paula nodded. “Yep very similar to the shoes I saw.”

  “Similar? Or are they exactly the shoes?” Seth asked.

  “Well, I can’t say for sure. I mean I was just waking up and my memory is fuzzy. There are a lot of fancy shoes like these, in fact I saw a woman wearing similar shoes earlier.” Paula glanced in the direction that Annabel had gone.

  “She’s not a reliable witness. I heard that she’s drunk all the time!” Myron said.

  “I’m not drunk all the time.” Paula crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I demand to know what this is about.” Myron looked at Seth.

  “Paula saw someone running from where the murder happened and they wore expensive shoes,” Seth said. “Apparently Millie here is playing amateur detective and thinks Paula might recognize the shoes as yours.”

  “Running from where the murder happened? But that was centuries ago, why I couldn’t…” Myron’s face relaxed a little. “Oh! You mean the recent murder, not the skeleton they found in the wall.”

  “Of course. That’s what we’re investigating. Can’t really investigate a murder from three centuries ago.”

  Myron blew out a breath. “Well that’s ridiculous. Why would I kill one of the Biddefords?”

  “You have a family connection to the Biddefords,” Mom said.

  Myron made a face. “Yeah, about three hundred years back. What would that have to do with anything recent?”

  “There was treasure rumored to be buried there,” Millie said. “Maybe one of your ancestors knew where it was and when you went to dig it up Bob had gotten there first.”

  Myron laughed. “You believe that treasure rumor? What would I want with some old moldy treasure chest that probably doesn’t have anything of modern value in it? I have plenty of money. I own a bank. And besides, I wouldn’t waste my time. That treasure doesn’t even exist according to my family lore.”

  Did Myron have some family intel about the treasure or was he just saying that as a cover?

  “Why did you lie about being there then?” I asked.

  Myron turned sheepish. He glanced around to make sure none of the other people in the tent were listening. “I had a good reason—that stupid treasure hunt actually messed it up. I was there, but not because of the treasure.” He glanced at Seth. “I have proof. Normally I’d make you get a search warrant, but I’m not guilty and I want you to stop accusing me and find the real killer, so I’d be happy to show it to you.”

  Millie looked skeptical. “You would? That’s a little fishy. If you really have a reason, seems like you’d be more irate about being accused.”

  “Oh, I am. But I don’t want to ruin the bank’s reputation, which would happen if a crowd witnessed you accusing me, or worse, hauling me off in cuffs.”

  “Okay, let me see this proof,” Seth said.

  “Me too,” Millie added.

  “Not you.” Myron glared at Millie. “You’re just a civilian and it’s none of your business. Just the sheriff.”

  Paula crossed her arms over her chest and pouted at Millie. “You said we were going to get free beer at the beer tent.”

  “I’ll take you,” Mom said, and headed off with Paula.

  Seth leveled a look at me and Millie. “Well, you heard the man. We don’t need civilians seeing someone’s private business.”

  “Come on, Josie, let’s go look over there at the Frobusher’s local honey display.” She shot a coquettish glance at Seth and batted her eyelashes before pulling me aside and whispering in my ear. “I’ll get it out of him later, but for now let’s just let Myron show it to him.”

  We wandered away, both keeping an eye on Seth and Myron. Myron showed him something on his cell phone and Seth nodded approvingly. Darn! Whatever Myron was showing him must’ve satisfied Seth.

  Seth started walking away and Millie did an about-face. “Yoo-hoo, Sethy!” She summoned him over in her most provocative manner. “Now, I know it’s probably a big secret and all, but I don’t think it would hurt if you could tell us what Myron showed you.”

  She walked her fingers up his arm playfully. Seth smiled but took her hand away gently.

  “I can’t tell you, but I can tell you one thing: he does have proof of why he was there and that proof has a timestamp of when the coroner has told us Bob was killed. The pond is a fifteen-minute walk from the gazebo in the daytime, probably longer in the dark, and we all know Myron is no woodsman. It would take him an hour to get through the thick overgrowth. I don’t think he could be the killer.”

  “So, it must have been one of the Biddefords,” Millie said.

  Seth’s face turned solemn. “I don’t think so.”

  “Why?” Millie asked.

  “We processed all of the shovels we took from the carriage house. There were six shovels in the shed, one for each member of the Biddeford family, except Bob whose shovel was found next to him at the murder scene. And not one of them has any DNA from Bob on the metal end—the blade. The coroner has determined Bob was killed with the metal part of the shovel, but the only shovel that matched his DNA was the one Bob used, and that only had epithelia on the handle. Nothing on the blade, which substantiates Doris Biddeford’s claim that Bob took off on his own but the rest of them stayed together.”

  “He wasn’t killed with one of the shovels in the carriage house?” I asked. Something about Doris’s claim didn’t sit right. Hadn’t she asked the others at breakfast before Bob’s body was found, if anyone found the treasure? If they all stayed together she would have known if anything was found. Had she lied to the police?

  Seth shook his head. “Nope. He was killed with another shovel, so the murder weapon must be out there somewhere.”

  “Half the town had shovels, the store was sold out,” I said. Everyone except Myron, who had said he couldn’t get one because Flora had gotten the last one. Which made me wonder… where was Flora’s shovel? Had she taken it home or was it on the premises somewhere?

  “That’s right,” Seth agreed. “But I am afraid half the town was not seen running from the scene by an eyewitness—only one person was. And that person is now my main suspect.”

  “Seth Chamberlain, you can’t be serious!” Millie said. “What motive would she have?”

  “That remains to be seen.” A look of regret passed over Seth’s face. “Unfortunately, unless new evidence comes to light, I’m going to be bringing Flora in for questioning and you better hope there isn’t another shovel out there with her fingerprints on one end and Bob’s DNA on the other.”

  Twenty-Two

  “It simply can’t be Flora,” Millie insisted later on when we were back in the kitchen of the Oyster Cove Guesthouse. She was vigorously beating together batter for a new batch of apple-pecan bread with extra cinnamon. “She’s been with the guesthouse since I was a little girl. My parents hired her. She’s a great-grandma, for crying out loud!”

  It was just the two of us in the kitchen since my mom had texted that she and Paula had found a ride home from the beer tent and were staying for a few more. Apparently Paula was good company over a mug of beer.

  Millie had actually stayed behind too, to try to wrangle more information out of Seth, and I’d driven home by myself. He’d dropped her off at the guesthouse a little bit later.

  “I don’t know,” I hesitated. “A lot of the clues do point to her.”

  I didn’t want it to be Flora. Even though she was the world’s worst maid, she was starting to grow on m
e. She had a certain grandmotherly way about her, sort of like Sophia from The Golden Girls, but grumpier.

  Even so, I had to admit some things about Flora’s story didn’t add up. Then again, I’d just added a few suspects to my mental suspect list. “I have my suspicions about a few other people too.”

  Millie turned to look at me. “Really? Who?”

  “Annabel Drescher, for one. Paula said her shoes were like Earl’s and she is doing a lot of renovations on her travel agency, so might need treasure-money. Plus, it seemed like she was avoiding us and Flora said she never went in to book a vacation. Maybe Annabel has something to hide.”

  Millie considered this, then shook her head. “Kind of far-fetched that she would kill Bob but I’ll keep her in mind. Who is the other person?”

  “Ed O’Hara.”

  “Ed? You must be joking. Why he’s the nicest man you’d want to meet. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. Why do you suspect him?”

  That was true, but wasn’t it always the nice ones that turned out to be the killer? “I think he was sneaking around in the conservatory.”

  “The conservatory? What’s that got to do with any of this? That part of the house wasn’t even built back in Jed’s day and besides, don’t you have work for him in there?”

  “Yes, but he wasn’t supposed to be doing that yet.”

  Millie scowled at me. “I think you are grasping at straws. Do you have some reason to think Ed being in the conservatory has something to do with Bob’s death? Or the treasure?”

  She had a point. All I had was a nail that could have gotten in there in a dozen ways. I guess I was getting carried away.

  Millie must have taken my silence for agreement because she went back to considering the Biddefords as prime suspects. “Just because those shovels didn’t have any of Bob’s blood on them doesn’t mean one of the Biddefords isn’t the killer.” Millie beat the batter more vigorously.

  “True. I mean, if they were clever, they could have clonked him over the head and switched shovels. Besides, I think Doris lied about them all being together.” I much preferred Doris as a suspect over Ed anyway. “But then where is the shovel that killed Bob? And where is Flora’s?”