Ghostly Paws (Mystic Notch Cozy Mystery Series) Page 3

  “It is, but that’s not why I’m here,” I said, ignoring her obvious disappointment. “I’m sure you’ve heard that Lavinia was found dead at the library this morning.”

  “Yes, such sad news.” Ophelia’s face showed no emotion.

  “Well, I heard you were there this morning and I wondered if you saw anything.”

  Ophelia’s back stiffened. “Me? I wasn’t at the library. And why are you asking about it? I heard she slipped and fell.”

  “Oh, she did,” I said to soothe her and put her off guard, afraid she might clam up if she thought I was accusing her. “It’s just that Lavinia was in there earlier than usual and I was wondering if someone else was there, too. Someone said they saw you near the church right down the street. I was wondering if you noticed anything unusual or saw anyone.”

  Ophelia’s eyes darted around the room, her mouth set in a firm line. “Who told you they saw me?”

  “I’d rather not say. What were you doing there that early anyway?”

  “Well, I’d say that’s none of your business,” she huffed. “But if you must know I was … err … lighting a candle in memory of Pete.”

  She placed her palms on the desk and pushed up from her chair. I noticed she still wore her wedding rings—a large diamond and wide gold band that blinked in the sunlight.

  “So you didn’t see anything strange or notice anyone at the library? Did you see Lavinia?”

  “No. No. And no.” She came around the desk and opened the door, inviting me to leave.

  I can take a hint, so I stood. “Okay, let me know if you remember anything. Sorry to bother you.”

  I felt her eyes drill into my back as I walked down the hall, through the reception area and out the door.

  A niggle of doubt tickled my stomach as I got into my car. I was almost certain Ophelia was being evasive. Lavinia had said she was lighting a candle at almost the same time—wouldn’t Ophelia have seen her? It was possible they had missed each other. I wasn’t sure of the exact timing.

  I doubted Ophelia had pushed Lavinia—what would be her motive? But if she wasn’t being evasive because she knew something about Lavinia’s murder, then what, exactly, was she hiding?

  ***

  “Ophelia Withington?” Pepper scrunched up her nose. “I don’t think she’s the killer.”

  “Why not?” I asked. “Maybe she had some kind of grudge against Lavinia. She does seem to be mean, selfish and spiteful.”

  “She wasn’t always that way, you know.” Pepper sat down on the sofa while she waited for me to organize my sales receipts for the day.

  “Really?” I cocked my head at her.

  “She was actually very nice and kind when she first came here. Pete’s lengthy illness and death made her bitter.” Pepper looked at the canister of tea leaves she’d brought from her store. “Come to think of it, she might benefit from one of my teas.”

  My brows shot up. Pepper’s special tea’s sometimes backfired—I shuddered to think of Ophelia Withington being even meaner than she was now.

  I took a sip from the tall glass of iced tea Pepper had brought. She usually closed up the tea room earlier than I closed the bookstore. Sometimes she’d bring a snack or tea over, which we’d enjoy before we walked down to our cars together. Today she’d brought iced tea to celebrate the beginning of spring—it was only sixty outside, but after a long winter in the White Mountains, sixty felt like summer.

  I finished my record keeping and pushed the drawer of my antique cash register shut.

  “All finished?” Pepper asked. “Looks like you made some sales today.”

  “I had a pretty good day. Sold a mint condition, first edition of Nancy Drew and made a few sales from the used book section.” The Nancy Drew made me a couple thousand richer—the used books would buy me coffee for the week.

  “That’s great,” Pepper said. “I had a visit from Derek Bates. He wanted some Wolfsbane tea. He’s such a nice guy.”

  “He is. He came here, too. He was looking for an old family scrapbook. I guess his mother sold it at a yard sale by mistake.”

  Pepper burst out laughing. The Bates family came from old money. Actually more like old-old money. So old that no one remembered how they originally made the money.

  “Idris let her have a yard sale? I can’t imagine that.”

  “Me, either.” I smiled as I pictured the look of delight on the faces of local antique dealers when they saw yard sale tables loaded up with antiques spread all over the lawn of the gigantic stone mansion just outside town.

  “Felicity must have snuck in a sale while Idris was away.”

  “I hear the old guy is pretty tight-fisted with the money.”

  “Yep, he sure is.” Pepper nodded. “He controls the money Felicity inherited from Derek and Carson’s father with an iron fist. He lets her and the boys live in the mansion like they did when his son was alive, but doesn’t give her much else to live on. Rumor has it she’s been selling stuff off secretly for years.”

  “I feel sorry Derek and Carson … dependent on Idris for money. Of course, they could just go out and get jobs and gain their own independence.” I grabbed my key and started for the door. “You ready?”

  Pepper stood up. “So, what are you going to do about Ophelia?”

  I pressed my lips together as we walked toward the door. “I’m not sure. I guess I need to do more checking. Myrna saw her near the library this morning and she was wearing a bulky coat. It might have looked like a cape in the shadow Lavinia described.” I remembered the sunlight glinting off Ophelia’s ring. “And she wears a wide ring. Not exactly the kind Lavinia thought she saw, but maybe she wasn’t accurate on that. I mean, she only saw it as she was being pushed down the stairs.”

  “But why would she want to kill Lavinia?”

  Pandora let out a wail and we both turned to look at the cat, who was sitting by the very spot I’d last seen Lavinia’s ghost.

  “I guess that’s what I need to find out.”

  Chapter Five

  I pulled my Jeep into the long driveway that led to the one hundred fifty year old Victorian I’d inherited from my grandmother. My heart warmed at the sight of the house that held so many wonderful childhood memories.

  It was a large house, painted white with black shutters, and consisted of three stories with two living rooms and four or five bedrooms, depending on how you looked at it. The front boasted turrets on either side. Those turret rooms with their rounded walls were my favorite. The house was too big for one person, but I loved it and couldn’t imagine ever selling.

  I parked at the end of the driveway on the side of the house, just short of the red with white-trim barn. The barn was almost as big as the house and had been home to five horses at one time. The inside still smelled of old leather saddles, hay and manure. The stalls bore teeth marks where the horses had chewed the wood. I loved going in there. Sometimes I could almost hear the horses whinny. I fancied I might get one myself someday.

  I opened the car door and Pandora shot across my lap and ran onto the porch on the side of the house. Looking back at me, she meowed impatiently as I limped up the porch steps—it had been a long day and my leg was starting to hurt.

  The porch led straight to the kitchen and Pandora didn’t waste any time getting over to her food bowl.

  “Meow!” She paced back and forth, rubbing her face on the whitewashed country cabinets.

  I pressed the button on my answering machine, then opened the cabinet and pulled out a bag of cat food. I had a cell phone like most people, but still preferred people to leave messages on my home phone. I guess I was kind of old-fashioned and didn’t really like being all that accessible or being interrupted at all hours of the day on my cell.

  “Willa, it’s Barry. Just wanted to let you know I picked up a box of books in my travels for you. Let me know when we can get together—Beep.”

  Barry was one of the local antique dealers. Most of the antique dealers in the area had a good
working relationship. If one of us was at an auction or yard sale and saw something that we thought another dealer would be interested in selling for a ridiculously low price, we’d pick it up for them. Last summer, I’d purchased a set of sterling silver Tiffany nut dishes at a yard sale for Barry for only a dollar. He’d made a bundle on them and I’d gotten a steak dinner as a ‘thank you’.

  “I wonder if there will be a treasure in that box of books,” I said to Pandora as I bent down to fill her dish.

  Something in the living room caught my eye. A greenish glow. I realized it was the round crystal paperweight my elderly neighbor, Elspeth Whipple, had given me as a ‘moving-in’ gift. From my bent-over position, I must have been looking at the paperweight at just the right angle to catch the reflection of light.

  The paperweight was beautiful—a large, clear orb that reflected prisms of light almost magically. Elspeth had presented it to me the day I’d moved in and said I should keep it handy as I might find it very useful. I guess she didn’t realize everything was done digitally now and I wouldn’t have much paper that I needed to weigh down. Still, I kept it displayed prominently on my coffee table just for its beauty and sentiment.

  Which reminded me—I should go over and check on Elspeth before supper. She was as old as the hills and had been Gram’s neighbor forever. They’d been close and Gram had even put a note with her will asking me to check on Elspeth frequently.

  I pulled my jean jacket off the peg by the kitchen door and shoved my feet into black rubber boots. The temperature was already falling from the high of the day and it would be chilly by the time I made my way back from Elspeth’s house. Slipping out the back door, I heard the familiar slap of the cat door flapping as Pandora bolted out behind me. She was never one to miss a trip over to see Elspeth or her cats.

  Elspeth lived one street over, but there was a shortcut through the woods. Clumps of winter snow were still visible under the trees, but the main trail was nearly bare. I walked the path, focusing on the drier spots and trying not to slip in the layers of wet leaves that carpeted the path. My leg was still weak and slipping wouldn’t do it any good. Chickadee’s, sparrows and nuthatches chirped their last songs of the day as they flitted between the bare branches of the trees. I noticed the unmistakable impressions of deer tracks and I reminded myself to put out some apples and carrots.

  I bit my lip as I considered how to tell Elspeth about Lavinia—I didn’t want her to be shocked. Not that she was frail or anything, she was actually quite feisty and in excellent health. Still I wanted to make sure to break the news in the most gentle way. I didn’t want her finding out about it through the Mystic Notch grapevine—better for me to tell her and be able to comfort her and calm any fears she might have.

  The trees were still bare of leaves and it wasn’t long before I could see Elspeth’s green and pink house through the branches. It was a cute, turn-of-the-century cottage with a wraparound porch and intricate gingerbread molding all along the roofline.

  The porch posts were covered with thorny vines that would burst with fragrant pink roses in summer. I walked up and tapped on the door.

  Elspeth answered within seconds. Her face was flushed under snow-white hair that was woven into a thick braid on top of her head. She wiped her hands on her blue toile apron.

  “Hi Willa. I was just in the kitchen.” Elspeth held the door wide open. “Come on in.”

  Pandora pushed in ahead of me, greeting the orange striped tomcat that always seemed to be weaving its way around Elspeth’s ankles with a catty meow. Two more cats came running from the hallway, a fluffy Maine Coon and a regal Siamese. Elspeth had quite a collection of cats—I wasn’t sure exactly how many, but I was pretty sure it was more than the three I saw in front of me. We headed toward the kitchen while the cats went through their usual sniffing ritual.

  As I entered Elspeth’s old-fashioned kitchen, my eyes were immediately drawn to the two pies on the counter. They looked fresh from the oven. The steam rising out of their fork pricked middles spiced the room with the scent of vanilla, sugar and cinnamon.

  “I just came by to see if you needed anything,” I said.

  “Oh, thank you, dear. I don’t need anything.” She gestured toward the pies and my mouth started to water as I noticed the apple filling bubbling up through the slits in the golden brown crust. “I was just putting up these pies. One is for you.”

  “For me?”

  “Yes, I had an idea you’d be stopping by tonight.” She studied me, her light blue eyes tinged with concern. “You look a little wan, dear … did something happen today?”

  I frowned. How did she always seem to know these things?

  “Well, as a matter of fact, something did happen downtown today,” I said as Elspeth started packing up one of the pies. “Lavinia had an accident at the library.”

  “An accident? Oh, I do hope she’s okay.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to say she’s … umm … passed.”

  Elspeth whirled around to look at me. “Dead? At the library? What happened?”

  “She fell down the stairs.”

  Elspeth’s eyes narrowed. “Fell? That doesn’t seem like Lavinia. She was pretty careful where she stepped, especially since she got the cane.”

  “I found her at the bottom of the stairs in the back. I guess she must have slipped. Her cane was lying at the top of the stairs.” I left out the part about the blood.

  “So, you don’t suspect foul play?”

  My stomach tightened. Funny she should ask. I certainly wasn’t going to tell her that I talked to ghosts, so I simply said, “We don’t think so.”

  “Is Augusta investigating it, or did she simply rule it as an accident?”

  “I’m not sure if she’s made a final decision on it yet.” I made a mental note to call Augusta and find out if they’d gotten autopsy results and made a ruling.

  “Oh, dear.” Elspeth turned back to the pies. “That is disturbing.”

  “Sorry to bring bad news. I hope you’re not too upset.”

  “Oh, no. I’m fine.” Elspeth handed me the pie, nicely packed in a Tupperware carrier and inside a cloth bag with a carrying strap.

  “Thanks. I guess I’d better get home, then.”

  Elspeth followed me down the hall and opened the door for me.

  I stepped out onto the porch, then turned back to her. “Don’t forget, if you need anything, just give me a call—I’m only across the woods, just a hop, skip and a jump away.”

  “Yes, dear,” she said. As I made my way down the steps, she added, “Oh, and Willa?”

  I half turned and looked at her over my shoulder. “Yes …?”

  “You be careful now … there may be danger about.”

  Chapter Six

  Pandora’s whiskers twitched as she watched Willa and Elspeth disappear into the kitchen before following the orange tomcat, Tigger, out the cat door to the small barn where the cats usually gathered.

  Pandora trotted into the barn behind Tigger. Nine sets of eyes blinked at them in the dark.

  “I figured you’d show up eventually,” Otis, the fat calico’s sarcastic voice rang down from atop a tall bale of hay.

  Pandora felt the hairs on her back prickle. She got along well with all the others of her kind, but Otis had been a thorn in her side since the beginning. He was one of the old ones … an ancient feline that had served many humans. Pandora was a newer soul, with new ideas. For some reason, Otis felt threatened by these ideas.

  Pandora arched her back and hissed at the calico.

  “Now stop it, you two.” Kelley, the Maine Coon swiped her paw in the air between them.

  “So, you heard about the trouble brewing from the other side,” Snowball, the fluffy white Persian, purred as she licked her paw.

  “Lavinia came to the bookstore and verified her death was no accident,” Pandora started, then paused for attention. She was one of the few cats that could talk to the other side. All eyes were on her and she savored the
moment before continuing. “She didn’t see who did it, though.”

  The others heaved a collective sigh.

  “So, the evil ones have spilled first blood.” The deep baritone of Inkspot, the twenty-two pound black cat rang out from the back of the barn.

  “Do you always have to be so dramatic?” Snowball hissed at him.

  Inkspot trotted toward the other cats that had formed a small circle in the middle of the barn and stood in front of Pandora.

  “Is it not true?” he asked.

  Pandora wrinkled her pink nose, remembering the noxious coppery smell of blood in the library. Her senses, many times more sensitive than humans, could smell it even out on the street that morning.

  “Well, there was a lot of blood …” she said.

  “I think he was talking metaphorically, you know, trying to show off,” Snowball said.

  Sasha, the sleek Siamese jumped into the middle of the circle. “Let’s not argue. We need to help our humans any way we can.”

  Pandora sat on her haunches and licked her paw. They were an elite species of cats sworn to help humans since ancient times—a task made more difficult by the fact that humans simply didn’t have the feline’s superior methods of communication. Some of them could learn, but others never did.

  Pandora flicked her paw behind her ear as she thought about Willa, her human. She’d been with Willa’s grandmother, Anna, since the beginning.

  Anna had understood her.

  Willa, on the other hand, obviously had no idea what Pandora was trying to tell her. Pandora missed Anna terribly, but she was starting to develop a small liking to her new human—even though Willa was rather skinny and her lap not nearly as comfortable as Anna’s.

  She didn’t yet have the rapport with Willa that she’d developed with Anna, but it had taken years to get to that point with the grandmother, so there was still hope. Though that didn’t help her much now … and it seemed that right now, communicating with her human was critical.