A Whisker In The Dark

I could cross Flora off my suspect list and focus on the others. The Biddeford siblings were at the top and I couldn’t discount Doris, either. Myron was running a close second though. He’d lied about being here, but I felt that might be because he was embarrassed to admit he was with Stella. Too bad we didn’t know more about the arguments amongst the Biddeford clan. So far it didn’t seem like any of them were worth killing over. I needed someone with a more compelling motive.

At least the townspeople wouldn’t be digging up the yard again. If what Jen said was true, they were all too afraid of Jedediah Biddeford’s ghost. But I didn’t think Bob’s death had been perpetrated by any ghost. No, whoever clobbered Bob over the head was undoubtedly human, and might be getting very nervous about being discovered as the killer.

And, as I knew from previous experience, people who were nervous about being exposed as a killer could become very dangerous.

Seventeen

I shook off the silly notion that Jedediah’s ghost was killing people who had been searching for his treasure and fed the cats. They seemed to appreciate their meal of turkey chunks and gravy if the way they circled around my feet and rubbed their cheeks on my ankles was any indication.

I bent down to pet them, and they rewarded me by butting their soft heads against my hand and purring. My relationship with the cats was improving greatly. I’d never had a cat before buying the guesthouse and I had to admit they were actually quite good pets.

“You know, you guys are actually pretty great. I’m glad to own you.”

The cats abruptly stopped their purring and rubbing, and looked at me with eyes that were practically shooting daggers.

“I mean, I’m glad you guys own me now.”

That must have mollified them because they continued their purring and rubbing—it was as if they could understand every word I’d said.

The cats went back to their bowls and I stood and watched them eat for a few seconds. Unlike humans, the cats seemed to appreciate most things I gave them, except when they were being finicky. Turns out cats are pretty good company too. Maybe even better company than husbands. I certainly enjoyed my relationship with them more than the last several years—possibly even the last several decades—with my ex, Clive.

I left the cats to their bowls and pulled out Millie’s recipe file. I needed to find something for breakfast the next day. The Oyster Cove Guesthouse didn’t provide lunch or dinner, but the guests sure did expect a spectacular breakfast.

I riffled through the file, discarding the ones that seemed like they were beyond my skill set or that had too many ingredients, when the back door opened and in came my mother and Millie.

“I hope you don’t mind us just walking in, dear.” Millie came over to inspect the recipes I’d pulled out. “Are you planning for breakfast tomorrow? That’s very good. You need to plan ahead when you are running an operation like this. What are you going to make?”

The cats immediately ran over to greet Millie but I noticed this time they hesitated just for a second, looking up as if to assure me that even though they were meeting their old friend Millie, they still knew that their new friend—me—was the one who fed them. I found that heartwarming even if it was likely just my imagination.

“I’m not sure. I was thinking about maybe a quiche or a frittata, but I’ve never made a frittata…” I glanced at Millie hopefully. So far Millie had helped me cook most of the breakfasts I’d served. I guess she felt a responsibility to keep up the reputation of the guesthouse in that department. I didn’t mind.

“We have a lot going on, so I think a quiche would do. You know you can make those ahead of time.” Millie selected a broccoli quiche recipe and put it on the counter. “You have some leftover cooked white rice from our Chinese takeout the other day, don’t you?”

“Yep.”

“Perfect. I don’t like to waste food. We can use that up in here,” Millie said. “You know, back when I ran the guesthouse in my younger days, I used to like to pre-prep. Some things like the frittata must be prepared fresh that morning, but I always preferred doing something the night before, that way I didn’t have to get up early. I could just rush down, heat it up and then put it on the breakfast buffet with the other items. I never did like to get up early.”

“All those late nights out with your boyfriends,” my mother teased.

Millie blushed and fluffed her hair. “Well now, I guess I’ll just start assembling these ingredients.”

She opened the cupboard and took out some salt and pepper, then grabbed eggs, cheese and milk and the rice out of the fridge before taking the frozen broccoli out of the freezer and popping it into the microwave. “It’s always a good idea to have some frozen veggies around, comes in handy when you need to whip up a quiche.”

I nodded. The broccoli must have been left over from when Millie owned the place. I certainly didn’t remember buying it.