A Purrfect Alibi

I pulled out a chair and sat at the 1940s’ Formica table, worry gnawing at my gut. “I know. He’s worried that publicity about people talking to a ghost here could hurt the bookings at the guesthouse. What do you think?”

Mom made a face and looked at Millie, then bent down to pet Nero and Marlowe, who had trotted into the room and were sitting next to her looking at us as if listening to our conversation.

“Myron is a worrywart. I wouldn’t worry about anything he says.” Millie pulled a knife out of the rack and started chopping the onion and apple she’d laid out on the cutting board.

“Except if he really thinks that, maybe he won’t give me the next installment on the loan. Or worse, demand I pay what I’ve borrowed in full. I already invested everything I have and without the loan the guesthouse will go under,” I said. “Not to mention that I need the guesthouse to be fully booked to keep cash flowing.”

Millie put the chopped apple and onion into a bowl, tossed in some sage and nutmeg and then plopped the ground turkey in and mixed it all together, then formed them into small patties and put them in the fry pan. Soon the sounds of sizzling meat and the spicy smell of sausage permeated the air. Millie flipped the sausages and then turned to face me.

“Myron is a man and he’s easy enough to handle. I can tell he’s sweet on you so all you have to do is dazzle him on a date and he’ll give you the keys to the vault.”

At my obvious look of distaste she continued, “You don’t have to marry the guy, for crying out loud. But sometimes us businesswomen need to use every advantage. Lord knows I’ve had to many times.” She patted the sides of her hair and smoothed her apron over her hips. I didn’t dare ask for details.

Mom must have been still thinking about the treasure. “What I don’t understand is how each one thinks they are going to get the treasure without the others seeing them.”

Millie pursed her lips. “You know, that’s a good question. I’ve noticed they’re all following each other around.”

I’d noticed that too. “It’s like they don’t trust each other.”

“But if they are all fakes, then each would know the others can’t talk to Jed,” Mom said.

“Maybe they aren’t sure about who is a fake and who isn’t.” Millie bent down to pet Marlowe who was doing figure eights around her ankles. “I know some of them have crossed paths before from what I read about them. Except Gail, she seems to have kept a low profile.”

The cats had once been Millie’s, but since she couldn’t have pets at the senior housing complex where she lived, she’d made keeping the cats a stipulation for the sale of the guesthouse. At first, I hadn’t been too sure, I’d never had a cat before, but I had to admit they were growing on me. As if sensing my thoughts, Marlowe turned her green gaze on me, eliciting all kinds of warm fuzzy feelings. Okay, I admit it, I was getting really attached to them, not to mention that they might have saved my bacon a few times in the previous murder investigations.

“Or maybe their whole goal is not to dig up the treasure or talk to Jed, but to get publicity?” Mom said.

Thud!

We jerked our heads in the direction of the sound to see a cookbook lying on the floor. The recipes, which had been torn from magazines and stuffed inside, spilled out. Millie walked over and bent down. “Here’s that apple strudel recipe I was looking for!”

Mom glanced over at it. “Huh, guess Nero must’ve pushed that off.”

Merow! Nero caterwauled from the other side of the room, then pranced over to the book, sniffed, looked up at the ceiling and started doing figure eights in front of the book.

Millie frowned down at him. “See, he ran over to the other side of the room and now he’s pretending he didn’t push the book off.”

Meow! Nero’s intelligent gaze flicked from Millie to me to a spot near the window.

Meow. Marlowe joined him in the pacing and gazing.

“Josie, I think they might be hungry.” Millie gestured toward their empty bowls as she placed the recipes back in the book and put it in the bookcase.

Meeeeoww. Nero sounded exasperated, indicating that I’d better get those bowls filled right away before he started to make a racket.

Millie straightened. “Something’s fishy about this Madame Zenda character. I think we need to set our sleuthing skills to determine what she’s up to. I don’t like anyone taking advantage of the legends here at the guesthouse for their own gain.”

Millie’s words set off my internal alarm bells. She and Mom were known to go a bit to the extreme and get into trouble. I didn’t need them doing anything that would bother the guests and might result in a bad review on Yelp.

“Just how will you do that?”

Millie shrugged. “I suppose we’ll do some stealth detecting and find out what her angle is. Maybe follow her and see if she really does communicate with Jed.”

“Good idea.” Mom pushed up from the table. “Let’s go get our black outfits and we’ll come back later tonight. Should we get our hair done?”