“I haven’t talked to Seth Chamberlain, have you?” I asked. Millie always could wrangle sensitive information out of him.
Millie blushed. Just as I suspected, she’d been doing more than talking with Sheriff Chamberlain. Good thing for us though as we could use all the information we could get.
Millie added rice to the egg and beat faster.“I happen to know the siblings are still suspects but don’t tell anyone I told you.”
“All of them?” my mother asked as Marlowe jumped up onto her lap. “I thought maybe Earl had cleared himself with the shoes.”
Millie nodded.“Yes. His Nikes do seem to clear him, but who can believe what Paula said? Maybe she didn’t see fancy shoes at all.”
“And is she a suspect?” I asked. “I mean, she does admit she was in the proximity. Shesays she was asleep under the bench, but she could be lying about that.”
“I don’t think we can rule any of them out because they all argued with Bob,” Mom said.
“And Flora didn’t,” Millie added. “She has no motive.”
“Other than the treasure,” Mom added.
“If only we knew what those arguments were really about we could determine if his siblings had something to kill over,” I said.
“And let’s not forget about Myron Remington. He was acting very strange and overly interested in the case. He dresses fancy. I bet he has a pair of Italian leather shoes like Paula said she saw. Didn’t you see him here last night, Millie?” my mother asked.
“Yep. I think he was with Stella Dumont, but you’re wrong about one thing. He’s not really interested in Bob’s case, he’s more interested in Jedediah’s case. The skeleton,” Millie said. “He was asking Seth all about it.”
Millie had mixed grated cheese in with the egg and rice and she pressed that into a pie plate to make the crust. I watched carefully. Millie made it look easy.
“Myron said he wasn’t here that night,” I said. Millie turned to look at me, her left brow quirked up. “I asked him directly.”
“I saw him. I know it was him,” Millie said.
“Why would he lie?” my mother asked.
“If he was with Stella he might not want anyone to know,” I suggested.
“Or maybe he’s the killer and pretending he is interested in the skeleton as an excuse to find out more about the police investigation into Bob’s murder,” Mom said.
Millie mixed the rest of the eggs and the other ingredients together and poured it in the pie plate on top of the egg and rice crust. The cats begged and she tossed them a piece of cheese.“I don’t know. Myron has always been worried about what people think. Always boasting about how his family has been here for generations, as if that was some sort of pedigree. He probably just didn’t want anyone to know that he’d lowered himself to the level of regular folks.”
“Did Flora say what she was doing down by the pond? Or even if shewas there?” Mom asked.
“Not to me,” I said. “I didn’t hear her deny Paula’s accusation either though.”
Millie pressed her lips together.“Seth didn’t mention what he talked about with Flora. I know he thinks I am biased about her. But if Paula is telling the truth and she was awakened by the shoe stepping on her hand,then saw Flora, that means Flora was coming down the path after the person with the fancy shoes,” Millie said. “Do you think Flora might’ve seen something and is afraid to talk about it?”
The cats meowed loudly. They were over by a small bookshelf that held ephemera related to the guesthouse. All kinds of old brochures, menus, pictures. Nero swatted at the little blue plastic ring from a milk bottle that had fallen on the floor and it skittered under the bookshelf. The two cats peered after it, then Marlowe snaked her paw under to retrieve it.
“She might have seen something, but I doubt it,” Millie said. “I mean, have you ever seen Flora afraid to speak up?”
“Good point,” I said. “And what about this business about a trip to the Caribbean? Why would Annabel say Flora was taking one if she isn’t? Or if she is, why would Flora lie?”
Millie waved her hands dismissively.“Annabel probably thinks if she says it enough times Flora will think it’s her idea. She’s doing a big renovation on her travel agency and I bet she needs the money. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s saying that about everyone—you know, planting the idea sort of like a subliminal message.”
“Maybe. I just hope Seth will leave Flora alone now. He has many more interesting suspects to consider,” I said.
“Not the least of which is Jedediah’s ghost.” Mom stared at the cats, who were now staring at the bookcase as if mesmerized by something the rest of us couldn’t see. “Maybe Nero and Marlowe know more about that than we do.”
Mew!
They turned to look at us as if they knew we were talking about them, then continued playing with the plastic ring, Nero swatting at it and sending it skidding into the butler’s pantry.
“Oh, go on.” Millie waved her hand in the air. “You don’t believe that, do you?”
“Maybe not, but plenty of peopledo believe it.” Mom glanced at me. “I just hope it doesn’t hurt the reputation of the guesthouse.”
“All the more reason to figure out who really killed Bob so the rumors can stop.” I would like nothing better than to solve this case quickly and move on. I hadn’t gotten a reservation for the guesthouse in the last couple of days and soon the Biddefords would be leaving. I needed new guests to pay the bills. And I didn’t need something like a lingering murder investigation to scare them off.
Millie shoved the quiche into the oven.“I’m just going to cook this for a while to let it set and you can heat it up tomorrow morning. Now, let’s talk about the town celebration. Are you all set with the rest of the display items and the loaf cakes?”
“Sure.” I was a bit reluctant to stop the murder discussion since I really wanted to figure out who the killer was, but I supposed that talking about something else would give our collective subconscious time to work on all the clues and suspects. “I’ll dig up that book on the guesthouse history from my room tonight. I made a trial batch of apple-pecan loaf.” I gestured toward the loaf I’d left cooling.
“I saw that. Was wondering when you were going to let me try it.” Millie cut into the loaf and I held my breath as she took a bite and swirled it around in her mouth like she was taste testing fine wine.
“It’s okay. A little tart.” Millie picked up the recipe card and looked over the recipe. “Oh yes, I remember this one. You might want to add a pinch more sugar. Plenty of people like it sweet. And you have the little mini loaf pans and bows?”
“Yep.” I can’t tell you how relieved I was the loaf had passed Millie’s taste test. Sure, she’d complained about it being tart, but the fact that that was all she’d had to say was a high compliment. Millie had given me these cute miniature tinfoil loaf pans, pink plastic wrap and red bows. She’d said the presentation would draw people to my table. I was afraid I needed as much help as I could to get people in my line and out of Stella’s, so I was willing to try anything, even if it meant pouring batter into dozens of tiny pans.
“Okay.” Millie brought her hands together and looked at my mother. “What do you say we leave Josie to it? The bingo game at the senior center starts in thirty minutes and it’s a double pot tonight. Don’t want to miss it.”
“You guys take off, I can handle this.” I gestured toward the oven.
“Great.” Millie pointed. “Let that cook for twenty more minutes, then let it cool and put it in the fridge. Heat it up tomorrow morning for about fifteen or twenty minutes. Easy peasy.”
The cats trotted out to say their goodbyes and Millie and Mom went out the back door. As I was watching them go, Millie turned and said,“Don’t worry, Josie, everything will work out perfectly. You’ll see.”