Wrong Side of the Claw Read online

  The regulars were waiting for me at the door. An air of excitement rippled through their group, and I knew they were eager to discuss the murder. Not that anyone was glad Jack had been murdered, but my senior-citizen friends always liked the challenge of tossing around ideas on solving crimes. I had to admit I was eager to talk to them. They often had interesting gossip that could help add insight to the cases.

  I unlocked the door, and they hurried inside, Bing handing me a coffee as he passed. I tossed my bag on the counter, and we all congregated on the microsuede sofas and chairs again at the front of the store. Pandora was grooming herself in her bed by the windows as we discussed the murder.

  “Did you get any inside information from Gus or Striker?” Josiah asked me.

  “I didn’t get much.” I sipped my coffee. “But we already know there’s a big difference now that someone has been murdered. And something was stolen too. Jack’s bank deposit.”

  Hattie frowned. “Do you think they were after money this whole time, and the other shops didn’t have any ready cash?”

  Josiah leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Good question. I don’t remember hearing that the thieves had taken cash, just that they hadn’t taken any items.”

  “I’ll ask Gus or Striker if there was cash in the registers at the other break-ins,” I said.

  “Such a shame that this one turned to murder,” Bing said, shaking his head.

  “And scary.” Hattie sat forward. “Cordelia and I heard that the bank deposit was missing, during our hair appointments down at the Cut and Curl yesterday, and we’ve come to the conclusion that the only way someone could’ve known what time Jack made his bank deposits would be by casing the joint.”

  I bit back a smile at Hattie’s old-time slang words.

  “Which means that someone is watching.” Cordelia glanced out the window and lowered her voice to a whisper. “They could be watching us right now.”

  “But if that’s the case, then why break into the other stores? Wouldn’t they have known the owner’s deposit schedule and broken in when the till was full?” Josiah asked, frowning.

  “Good point. I’m sure those other shop owners would have reported stolen money,” I said. “Maybe the thief was mistaken about when they made their deposits, or they changed their routine. Perhaps we should talk to some of the other shop owners in the area. See if they saw anyone suspicious lurking around, that sort of thing.”

  “That might explain why the thief didn’t realize Jack would be there. If he’d been watching the store, he would have figured Jack never stayed that late.” Bing rubbed his chin. “Duane Crosby’s ice cream shop is right next door. He’d have a clear view of Jack’s place, and they share an entrance. He might have noticed someone hanging around.”

  “Yes, someone needs to ask the surrounding shop owners. That’s what they always do on TV,” Cordelia added, as if that confirmed it.

  “Didn’t Gus already do that?” Josiah asked.

  “She did, but with how weird she’s been acting lately, I can’t guarantee she was all that thorough.” I finished my coffee then stood. “Besides, it can’t hurt to talk to a few of the shop owners ourselves.”

  “A Good Yarn is across the street from Jack’s Cards. Maybe Mrs. Quimby noticed something,” Cordelia suggested. “Plus, she was open late for the weekly knitting class the night Jack was killed. She might have seen the perpetrator.”

  “Perhaps,” I said, my mind churning with the new information. The others began to file out of the shop, and I held the door for them, wishing them well as they passed me.

  “Follow the money, I say,” Hattie said on her way out, winking at me. “I bet whoever knew about the deposit is the killer.”

  Hattie’s words about following the money replayed in my head as I opened the store and restocked the shelves, then went into the back to make a desperate attempt to summon Jack’s ghost again. I’d forgotten to ask him last night about the deposit—specifically, who knew about it. I wanted to ask now, but as usual, the ghost refused to play by my schedule.

  I’d just given up when the bell over the door jangled, signaling a customer. I went back out front to find my sister leaning against the counter.

  “Hey, sis,” she said as I walked over to her. “I have a question.”

  My hopes soared, thinking maybe she was getting back on track with the investigation. I took it as a good sign. Maybe she was asking the shop owners if they’d seen anything, like I’d planned to do later.

  “I was wondering if you had a nail file,” Gus said.

  Or not.

  I sighed and pulled one out of the drawer beneath the counter to hand to her. She proceeded to walk over and plop down on the sofa and begin doing her nails. Desperate to get her mind back on work, I walked over and sat beside her.

  “I have a question too,” I said.

  Gus grunted for me to continue as she inspected her nails.

  “I was wondering if the shops that got broken into before had any cash money or if they’d changed their deposit schedule recently,” I said.

  She glanced up at me, her brows raised. “I can’t imagine why you’d want to know that unless you knew that Jack’s deposit was missing.”

  “Oh, umm…” I couldn’t very well tell her that Striker had divulged that information or that we’d been discussing the case because we thought she wasn’t doing a good job. Luckily the news had already been spread around town. “Hattie and Cordelia found out about it down at the hair salon, and it just made me wonder.”

  “Uh-huh. Well, for your information, no cash was lying around at the other stores. Proprietors didn’t deposit regularly either.”

  Maybe Gus was paying more attention to this case than I’d thought. She certainly seemed to be on top of the bank-deposit angle. “So, have you checked to see who knew about Jack’s payroll deposit?”

  “Nope.” Gus didn’t even look at me, just frowned down at her fingers as she filed.

  “How about checking if anyone had anything against Jack? A personal grudge maybe?”

  Gus blew on her nails and scrubbed them on the front of her shirt then started on her second hand. “Nah.”

  Okay, maybe she wasn’t paying attention to the case after all. I sighed and said a silent prayer for patience. “Have you gone back over the notes from the earlier robberies to find any common threads that could lead to a suspect?”

  “Been busy. Haven’t gotten around to it yet.” Gus held her fingers out in front of her, admiring her work. “You know, now that you mention it, one of the store owners, Sarah Delaney, called into the station to say she saw someone near one of the break-in sites, but I never followed up because she’s weird anyway. All those flowing black dresses and long fingernails. Probably can’t be trusted.”

  “Sarah from the antiques shop?” My ears perked up. “Don’t you think we should go talk to her, given what happened to Jack?”

  Pandora got up and stretched, walking over to twine about my ankles as if she were interested in our conversation. I reached down and scratched behind her ears.

  “I’m telling you, sis,” Gus said, giving me an irritated stare. “Sarah’s got nothing.”

  Then she reached down and began to pet Pandora herself. Highly unusual, to say the least. My stomach knotted tighter. Something was definitely off here, but I was determined to get to the bottom of all this strangeness. “Come on, Gus. We need to go talk to Sarah. What if another sheriff checks on your case? You don’t want to get fired for slacking off.” I stood and looked down at her. “Not to mention, there’s a killer running around Mystic Notch.”

  Gus looked at me incredulously. “What other sheriff? Striker’s the only one, and he thinks I’m handling this just fine.”

  Sure, he does.

  I didn’t want to override my sister’s authority, but if I had to solve this case by myself, I would. Plus, Gus showing up at the antique store might make Sarah Delaney more forthcoming with her information.

 
; “Get up, Gus,” I said, grabbing my sister’s arm. “Time to get to work.”

  Pandora meowed loudly, staring at Gus intently. So weird. Normally, my sister completely ignored the cat, but today she couldn’t seem to stop petting her. When she started talking baby talk to her, I knew it was time to go. I tugged harder on her arm and finally got her to her feet, then nudged her toward the door.

  “Time to get to Delaney’s Antiques.”

  10

  Gus gave me little resistance, passively strolling down the street beside me, waving to shop owners as we passed. Delaney’s Antiques was on a side street, a small shop packed to the brim with every kind of antique one could think of. Inside, it smelled of Lemon Pledge and sparkled with cut crystal vases and glasses that were displayed atop crochet doilies on every surface. Various pieces of polished mahogany and oak furniture were crammed into every available space, and colorful glassware, hand-painted plates, and jewelry gleamed from lighted glass cases.

  Sarah was behind the register. She’d taken the shop over recently when her uncle had been arrested for murder. Sarah came from Salem, Massachusetts, and still dressed the part—all black clothes, long black hair, long dark nails. Typical witch attire.

  She took one look at us, and her posture stiffened. I walked Gus over to the counter, not allowing her to get distracted by all the knickknacks in the shop, and kept my hand on her arm to hold her there.

  “Hi, Sarah. I’m helping out Gus today with the investigation into what happened at Jack’s place. She said you called the sheriff’s office with information?” I tried to sound official, as if I was a member of the sheriff’s office, as I nudged Gus in the ribs and gave her a pointed look.

  “What?” Gus asked, frowning. My gaze darted between her and Sarah, and finally Gus said, “Yeah, I’m following up on your phone call.”

  “Well, I don’t know anything about what happened to poor Jack,” Sarah said, those long nails of hers tapping on the counter. “But I did see Felicity Bates skulking around the night the lamp shop got broken into.”

  “Well, shoot.” Gus scoffed, waving her hand. “That’s not helpful at all. Nothing was taken from the lamp shop. What about the night of the murder? Did you see her then?”

  “No. I told you, I don’t know anything about what happened to Jack,” Sarah insisted.

  “This doesn’t get us anywhere.” Gus pulled free from my grip and headed for a display of old plates. “I doubt Felicity’s the killer.”

  My gut clenched tighter. Gus usually couldn’t stand Felicity Bates and would have been all over this kind of information about her. My sister was definitely messed up.

  “Besides,” Gus said, picking up a plate and staring at the chicken painted on the front, “why would Felicity steal a bank deposit? She’s rich.” She put the plate down and crossed her arms, scowling at me. “Use your head, Willa. You can’t just go off half-cocked and accuse people without evidence.”

  Now that was more like the old Gus. I felt encouraged. I was about to ask Sarah more questions when I was interrupted by her tiny Yorkie, Skeezits, bursting through the shop from where she’d been lying on an antique Chesterfield sofa in one of the alcoves. She tore toward one of the windows in the back, yapping as loudly as her little lungs would allow.

  “What’s the matter, baby?” Sarah asked, coming around the counter to follow the dog to the back of the store. “Is something out there?”

  The dog had jumped up on top of an end table, still barking, to stare out a window.

  “Wow,” Sarah said, her eyes wide. “Look at that!”

  I peered over her shoulder. Outside was a clowder of cats, one of them looking suspiciously like Pandora. Except that was impossible, considering I’d just locked her inside the bookstore.

  Pandora stared out into the woods behind the antique store, remembering a night not so long ago when they’d had a showdown with Fluff. That night, the list of ingredients had been cast to the four winds, but what if some of it had come back? Were Fluff and Felicity really a threat? She peered between the trunks of the birches and maples into the darkest part of the woods as if there might be an answer back there, but all she got was the hoot of an owl and the rustling of squirrels in the leaves.

  Pandora turned her attention back to the other cats who had gathered here. The cats had gotten a tip from one of the feral cats in town about someone digging behind Delaney’s, so they had arranged to meet here. She’d used one of her usual escape routes in the closet of the bookstore right after Willa had dragged Gus out. With Willa gone, her absence wouldn’t be noticed. Hopefully those nosy ghosts, Robert and Franklin, wouldn’t tell.

  Otis sniffed the air and shook his head. “My seventh sense is telling me one of the hidden ingredients is close by.”

  “Mine too,” Sasha agreed, stretching her sleek Siamese body.

  Inkspot narrowed his yellow gaze and scanned the location. “I, too, feel something, but I can’t tell where it’s buried. Anyone else?”

  “Let me see if I can find it.” Hope closed her eyes and raised her Chimera face skyward. The young cat had been discovering more and more of her special abilities, and if she could locate one of the hidden ingredients, that would be a very good thing. Unfortunately, after a few moments, she hung her head and sighed. “Sorry, nothing. The magnetic energy in the earth is messing with my senses again.”

  “Well, I doubt there’s anything here at the building,” Pandora said, sitting back to groom her paws. “Most of the buildings in town weren’t around when Hester Warren buried the ingredients. I’d say we’d be better served searching the forest and area around Mystic Notch. Most likely, she put the ingredients in the caves and perhaps a hollowed-out tree or two. Maybe even an old well.”

  “Did I mention that the feral cats I spoke with earlier also said they saw Felicity and Sarah Delaney digging around town?” Kelly chimed in.

  “Together?” Pandora asked. She could have sworn the two of them did not get along.

  Kelly’s thick fluffy tail twitched as she spoke. “No. Separately.”

  “Might have mentioned that sooner.” Otis gave her an annoyed glance, his tone dripping with sarcasm as usual. “It’s no secret Sarah comes from Salem, and she’s a witch.”

  “Plus, she and Felicity can’t stand each other,” Truffles chimed in.

  “Hard to believe they’d be working together,” Snowball added, shaking out her white fluffy fur. “They’re enemies. Sparks fly whenever they run into each other.”

  “Just because they were both digging doesn’t mean they are combining forces,” Kelly said. “As I’ve already mentioned, my sources did see them at separate times.”

  “Let’s hope they are not in cahoots.” Inkspot seemed to consider that a moment. “Usually they stay out of the other’s vicinity. If they ever team up, the consequences could be disastrous.”

  “I doubt they have.” Pandora licked her paw and ran it behind her ear. “Curious thing, though, I don’t believe Fluff had anything to do with the recent death at Jack’s Cards.”

  “Oh?” Inkspot’s whiskers twitched, his eyes getting rounder.

  Otis huffed at her and pretended he wasn’t interested in what she had to say even if Pandora herself thought it was interesting news.

  “Yes, I spoke with him earlier, and he appeared to be quite surprised that someone had died.” Pandora couldn’t resist shooting a glance of superiority at Otis.

  “Conspiring with the enemy?” Otis asked.

  “No. I was in my cat bed in the bookstore window, and he came up to the glass. I took the opportunity to interrogate him.” Pandora jerked her kinked tail high in the air.

  “That’s odd. Do you think that means Felicity is not behind all of these disturbances?” Sasha asked.

  “Maybe Sarah Delaney was the one who killed Jack,” Snowball said. “We know both she and Felicity are up to something but not necessarily together.”

  “Or if they are together, Sarah might have gone behind Felicity’
s back,” Kelly suggested.

  “Perhaps Felicity went behind Fluff’s back and didn’t bring him to Jack’s Cards,” Snowball suggested.

  Otis scrunched his face. “Or Fluff was lying. He and Felicity are always together. Then again, she does keep him on a leash. Maybe she got sick of dragging him around and went out alone that night.”

  “With all the weird things going on around here, I wouldn’t be surprised.” Hope preened an errant whisker.

  “I’ve confirmed that there is something weird going on with Gus,” Pandora said. “I sniffed her when she was in the bookshop earlier, and she did not smell normal. Read her aura too. Everything’s off. My human says she’s not investigating her cases properly either.”

  “I feared that was the case,” Inkspot said. “Without Gus, the humans of Mystic Notch will need our help more than ever.”

  “What did she smell like?” Hope asked, tilting her head slightly so the black half of her face was closer to Pandora. “Certain scents mean different things.”

  Pandora wrinkled her nose then frowned. “It was almost like maple glazed doughnuts.”

  “Oh dear,” Hope said, straightening. “She’s been hexed.”

  The other cats gasped.

  “Finally, something we can work with,” Otis said, harrumphing. “Perhaps the killer hexed her so she won’t investigate.”

  “Of course that’s why.” Pandora gave Otis a pointed glare. “Whoever is behind this wants free rein to do as they please.”

  “And now we know that the origins are magical,” Hope said.

  “Which narrows down our suspect list considerably.” Otis cast a pointed look at the antique shop.

  “If Gus has been hexed, we need to remedy that. We’ll need to get an antidote potion from Elspeth,” Inkspot said, his deep Morgan Freeman-esque voice booming off the brick wall behind them. “And we still need to figure out the connection between reversing the pleasantry charm, these break-ins, and Jack’s death. There must be one.”