A Purrfect Alibi

Maybe Madame Zenda knew something about one of them that the other person wanted to keep secret. Esther knew her real name, did someone else have a relationship with Madame Zenda that I didn’t know about? I made a mental note to dig around on the Internet and see if I could find such a connection.

I knew one thing, the murder wasn’t random. The note and the buckle proved that the killer had a specific reason to want her dead. Hopefully the killer would have no reason to strike again. Still, I was glad I had a double lock on my owner’s quarters.

I was bent down peering into the oven for the umpteenth time when I heard the back door open. I whirled around, heart pounding. Apparently this murder business had me more nervous than I thought.

“Whoa, Sunshine. Didn’t mean to startle you.” Mike sauntered in, the lazy smile on his handsome face holding a hint of amusement at the way I’d jumped. My heart started beating even faster, but not because I thought he was the killer.

“You startled me.” Nothing like stating the obvious.

His face immediately took on a look of concern. “Are you worried because of the murder? Do you not feel safe here? I could come and stay here if you want—”

I raised my palms in front of me and cut him off. “No. I’m not worried. I just wasn’t expecting anyone to sneak up on me.” I pulled the frittata out of the oven and set it on the counter.

“I wasn’t sneaking up.” His eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute… are you not worried because someone else is staying here?”

Now it was my turn to narrow my eyes. “What do you mean? There’s a lot of people staying here. It’s a guesthouse.”

“Not them. I saw Myron leaving when I came in. He’s been here a lot lately.”

I made a face. Did Mike think I had something going on with Myron? Was he jealous? For some reason that amused me. I waved my hand dismissively as if Myron’s presence was of no consequence. Which it was. “Oh yeah. He left his notepad and pen here and came to pick it up.”

“Ummm… hmmm… I bet he did.” Mike said it with the same hint of sarcasm in his voice that Ed had done when I brought Myron into the ballroom to retrieve his items.

“Did you want something?” I asked as Mike sauntered over to the counter and started picking at one of the leftover lemon muffins. I slapped his wrist. “Those are for guests.”

“Mmmm… this is good. Your cooking has really improved.”

I took a minute to bask in his compliment. “Thanks.”

“I have some new information on the case.”

I composed my face into a blank look and stared at him. I didn’t fool him though because he said, “Forget playing dumb, Sunshine. I know that you, your mom and Aunt Millie are investigating.”

I simply raised my brows. Mike had been an investigator in the navy and had gotten all bossy and protective when we’d tried to investigate the last two murders. Maybe he was getting used to the idea that when someone was killed on my property I looked into it. Good. Any help we could get would be welcome and Mike knew how to investigate, plus his office was in the town hall and he could have access to insider information.

“So, what did you find out?” I asked after trying to wait him out.

“Turns out that buckle really was old,” Mike said.

I frowned. “You mean like as old as Jed?” I glanced over at the stairs to the attic, remembering how the cats had been trying to lure me up there.

“Yep. Of course, it’s probably not his, they have old buckles in antique stores and you can buy them on the Internet from eBay.”

Of course! Why hadn’t I thought of that? But if the killer got the buckle from eBay, then they would have had to purchase it way before the murder, as they would have had to have it shipped. Which meant that the murder might not have been because Madame Zenda said she was going to talk to Jed. It would have been planned before that.

Esther bubbled up to the top of my mental suspect list, but I cautioned myself not to jump the gun. Just because Esther had a prior connection to Madame Zenda didn’t mean that she had a reason to kill her. Nor did it mean that the others didn’t have prior connections. Hadn’t Victor mentioned something about how her readings were never accurate? That seemed to indicate he was familiar with her work. And what about Gail? She’d been very quiet about her past and when I’d asked her once, she’d brushed me off. Besides, if Esther had murdered Madame Zenda because of some prior connection, wouldn’t she have tried to hide the fact that she knew her?

“So the murder could have been planned for some time. If someone had researched Jed and his treasure and planned it out, maybe they had time to find a similar buckle.”

Something outside the window caught my eye. Nero and Marlowe were slinking along the side of one of the old barns. Stalking mice? Or something else? Up ahead of them, I saw a flutter of purple fabric. Anita Pendragon? No. It was Esther Hill. She was dodging from shrubbery to shrubbery. What was she up to?

“Josie?” Mike’s question tugged my attention from the window.

“Huh?”