A Purrfect Alibi

I shut the laptop and headed to the kitchen to check that everything was in order for breakfast. I whipped up some waffle batter and put it in the fridge. I wanted to get the breakfast set up quickly the next morning so I could be ready to test out my suspicions that the cats really were trying to show me something in the attic.

“There’s nothing in here but tea.” Marlowe backed out from under the bed and sneezed. Nero glanced around the room. The other cat wasn’t kidding; the place was loaded with tea tins. White, black, green, herbal. You name it and Gail had it in her room. It made him wonder why Gail was often seen in the kitchen pantry taking Josie’s Earl Grey. Maybe she was just cheap.

“Well, that about does it. We’ve scoured all of the guests’ rooms and haven’t found one thing.” Nero was disappointed. It wasn’t as if he’d expected to find a smoking gun or anything, but if the killer was one of the guests wouldn’t they have had paper that matched the note or a big red pen? Though a crafty killer would have thrown those things out…

Marlowe turned up her nose. “Other than that noxious cologne in Victor’s room.”

“That did smell horrid, but his velour lounging suits are soft to the touch.” The velour was so soft, it must have been very high quality—clearly Victor Merino was a human that liked the finer things. Everything in his room had been top-notch, from the offending cologne to the expensive luggage to the clothing.

“So, what now?” Marlowe sat and looked at Nero with her head tilted to the side quizzically.

Nero glanced out the window. The moon had risen and cast a soft glow over the landscape. The guests weren’t back yet, but he’d heard Josie knocking something over in the back parlor earlier and she was now rattling around in the kitchen. The guests would return any minute and it would only be a few hours before Josie went to bed, which meant they had a little time to go down to the bait wharf and meet with the other cats to find out if any of them had discovered anything.

“We meet the others.” Nero headed toward the cat door that Millie had installed for them in the old storeroom on the first floor.

Nighttime was Nero’s favorite time to visit the bait wharf. He loved the play of the moonlight on the waves and the fact that the gulls were all tucked in their nests—or wherever they went at night—and wouldn’t be rudely swooping down on them.

When they arrived on the docks, Harry was sticking his paw in the water trying to skewer a fish with his sharpened claws. He did this all the time, although Nero didn’t know why. It had only worked once and even then Harry had been so surprised that he fumbled the fish and it slipped back into the water with nary a backwards glance.

The gang was all there. Juliette lounged on the concrete slab under the tuna scale. It was probably still warm from the sun beating on it all day. Stubbs was curled up on top of a lobster trap, his tail around his nose. One green eye slid open as Nero and Marlowe approached. Poe and Boots had been batting around a piece of rope and they stopped and turned to Nero.

“Anymore news about that movie producer?” Nero asked.

Stubbs yawned and sat up. “I put a tail on that nosey dame reporter, Anita Pendragon. She met with that movie mogul. She’s involved in something.”

Nero nodded. No surprise there. “Has anyone picked up any other clues about the murder?”

Boots bestowed his look of superiority on them. “I have heard that it is someone closely tied to the guesthouse.”

Marlowe practically rolled her eyes. “No one else in town knew her, so that’s kind of a given.”

Boots looked down his nose at Marlowe. “Are you sure about that?”

Marlowe frowned and glanced at Nero who nodded his head slightly. It was most likely that the killer knew Madame Zenda and he was certain she didn’t know anyone in town.

“What about the buckle?” Nero asked.

“Nothing new on that,” Harry said. “I talked to Louie Two Paws earlier today. The police haven’t made much progress. They are checking out all those guests at the guesthouse. Seems that some of them have a shady past. But nothing new on the buckle.”

Shady past. Nero wasn’t surprised at that either. Judging by the way they acted so secretive amongst each other at the guesthouse, he knew they were the type that would often be up to something.

“What about you?” Juliette purred. “You’re in the guesthouse with all of the suspects. Surely you have found out something by now? And have you followed up on my clue about your velvety jogging-suit wearing guest and the movie producer?”

“We didn’t find anything in his room, but we do have something on the buckle that might be of interest,” Marlowe said.

Poe turned to look at her. “Do tell.”

“Jed’s ghost verified that his shoes are missing from a trunk in the attic. The shoes with the buckle,” Marlowe said. “Jed’s suit is in there and all his other things, but no shoes.”

“So someone has been in the attic,” Stubbs said.

“Looks that way,” Nero said. “Though I don’t see how. Josie keeps it locked.”