‘I think things went very well for your first round of guests.’ Millie pressed her index finger to the plate to pick up the last sweet crumbs from the coffee cake, licked them off and then pushed up from the table and headed to the cabinets where she started to assemble bowls, whisks and measuring utensils. Apparently she was going to do some baking. I knew the kitchens were small over at the retirement village, but honestly, if she was going to just keep coming here to bake she might as well make the breakfasts all the time.
At my skeptical look, my mother added.‘Well, there was that little hiccup of a murder, but you handled it very well, dear.’ Mom patted my arm.
‘And caught the killer!’ Millie added.
Meow!
Meroo?
‘Yes, we know you guys helped too,’ Millie said to Nero and Marlowe who appeared offended at the lack of credit. They twitched their whiskers and sauntered off toward the hallway, apparently appeased by Millie’s praise.
‘Who would have figured it was Barbara?’ Mom said. ‘I mean, I knew she was went overboard tending to the lousewort but I never thought she’d planted it herself. I would have suspected Ava before Barbara, but I was hoping it was Stella.’
‘Me too,’ I said.
Millie turned around to look at us.‘Ava? Why would you suspect her?’
‘She knew Charles from before, she was the one who told us about Tina, she was here at the guesthouse… it sort of seemed like she turned up everywhere,’ I said. ‘I just hope she isn’t going to do some big column in the paper about it. It sounded like she needed something exciting to bringin readers.’
‘Don’t worry, she isn’t writing a column.’ Millie glanced out into the hallway to make sure we couldn’t be overheard. By whom I had no idea. We were the only ones in the guesthouse. ‘She’s writing a book about it.’
‘Oh.’ Was that better than a column? Probably. Maybe they’d make it into a movie and people would flock here to see where it happened.
‘I’m just glad all’s well that ends well,’ Mom said. ‘Barbara would have done anything to protect herself, so it’s a good thing you guys were able to outwit her.’
‘I can’t believe she would have burned down the guesthouse,’ Millie shuddered as she cracked eggs into a bowl.
‘Yeah that could have been a problem, especially with the town’s 250th celebration and all the descendants of Jedediah Biddeford coming to stay here in two weeks.’ Though the guesthouse had been added to over the years, it had started out as a smaller mansion way before Millie’s people evenowned it. The main part of the mansion that was now the West wing had been originally built by Jedediah Biddeford, and seeing as he’d lived here 250 years ago, apparently his descendants felt the town celebration was a great time to have a family reunion right in the house that started it all.
A family reunion was nice and all, but I was really thrilled because all five of the rooms which had been renovated to this point had been booked by Biddefords. If only I’d kept Mike on, I might have been able to squeak out a few more rooms, but it was just as well that he wouldn’t be around. I was getting too comfortable with him. And while Ed O’Hara was a bit slow, he did good work and I was happy to supplement his Social Security income.
‘That’s probably only because of the curse,’ Millie said as she whisked something together in a stainless-steel bowl.
‘Curse?’ The familiar baritone came from the doorway. I hoped I was hearing things. I scrunched my eyes shut and turned in that direction, opening one eye slowly. Mike Sullivan lounged against the doorframe. Who had invitedhim? To be even more annoying, he winked at me.‘Hey Sunshine, how’s our little detective?’
‘I thought you were done with your work here.’ I said.
‘I am.’ Mike pushed off the frame and strode over to Millie, kissing her on the cheek. ‘Aunt Millie invited me over for cookies.’
‘I’m just getting ready to put them in the oven now.’ She scooped big dollops of batter out of the bowl with a tablespoon and plunked them on a cookie sheet.
‘Forget about the cookies, what’s this about a curse?’ Mom asked.
Millie waved her hand in the air dismissively, keeping her back to us as she continued dropping cookie dough onto the sheets.‘Oh, just some old curse where Jedediah claimed he was coming back at the town’s 250th to deal with anyone who dared plunder his treasure.’
‘Treasure?’ Moms eyes lit up like a slot machine on tilt. ‘I never heard anything about a treasure.’
Millie opened the oven and shoved the cookie sheets in.‘My grandmother told me about it when I was a little girl. Apparently, it was told to her grandfather when they bought the place. But there’s no treasure. Jedediah was sailing to the West Indies and figured he’d come back with treasure, but he never made it back to the country.’
‘Why not?’ Mike asked.
Millie shrugged.‘How should I know? Died over there. Plague or something.’
‘So why have a curse then?’ I asked.
‘Sounds like he was overly dramatic. Probably setting the stage, getting everyone scared for when he did bring back the treasure so no one dared mess with it. You know how superstitious people were back then.’ Millie put the dirty dishes in the sink and started running the water.
Merooo!
The cat’s hollow cry came from deep inside the mansion. It was kind of eerie and reminded me of the way they’d sounded the morning we’d found Charles Prescott’s body. Must be a strange echo coming from that room…
‘But there could still be a treasure,’ Mom said hopefully. I could already tell she was dreaming of treasure maps and x-marks-the-spot. Probably already planning her trip to Ace Hardware to buy a shovel.
Millie turned around, her hands on her hips.‘Really, Rose. If there were a treasure don’t you think someone would have found it by now?’
Mom looked disappointed.‘I suppose.’
Mereech!
This time everyone looked in the direction of the cry.
‘Is that Marlowe?’ Millie cocked her head to the side. ‘I hope she’s not hurt.’
‘I’ll go see,’ Mike said.
‘Me too.’ If something was going on in the guesthouse, I certainly didn’t want Mike one-upping me like he’d tried to do with the Prescott investigation.
I followed Mike into the hall to the sounds of another loud cry from the cats.
‘Sounds like it’s coming from the West wing near where we found Charles Prescott,’ Mike said.
‘Lucky thing there can’t be another dead body in there now, no one else is in the guesthouse.’ I didn’t feel as confident about that as I sounded.
Mike scowled as he tried to open the door that separated the main house from the West wing.‘It’s locked. That’s good. You’re supposed to keep it shut, especially if you have new guests in here.’
Okay, now I remembered why I had hired Ed in his place. Mike was kind of bossy. I didn’t need that. ‘Yeah, I know. You sound like Barbara.’
I ducked into the pantry and retrieved the ring with the spare sets of keys to unlock the various doors that didn’t go to the guests’ rooms. I kept the keys to the guest room in a more secure place.
Meroow!
Mike frowned at the keys jangling in my hand.‘Are those keys easily accessible to anyone?’
I paused before opening the door, my annoyance with Mike overshadowing my worry about the cats.‘What’s it to you?’
He smiled, a twinkle in his eye that I did not like.‘Oh, it’s very important to me.
What was that supposed to mean?
Meoooo!
‘That sounds bad,’ Mike’s face creased with worry. ‘We better get in there.’
I pushed the door open, my stomach tightening as I glanced over at the stairs. No dead body. I felt silly. Of course, there wouldn’t be.
Meroop.
The sound came from the next room.
‘I think they’re over here.’ Mike headed toward the sound. I gave one last glance at the place where Charles had been found. Ed had been starting to work on this part of the guesthouse and the fallen banister and wooden debris had been cleaned up. There was no sign that a man had died there just over a week ago. Good, I was glad to put that whole incident behind me.