“That’s just the carpenter, Ed. Besides, why would Jedediah be coming back to kill you? Nobody got the treasure, right? And the curse was that he was gonna do away with anyone who had his treasure.” I steered Earl away from the door as Ed shut it from the other side.
Ed was supposed to keep the door shut so that guests didn’t wander onto the worksite, and he was very good about it. I glanced down. There was no gap between the bottom of the door and the floor. If the cats had batted a nail from this wing into the conservatory, I was sure they would have had to bat it under this door. The other exits were too far away. But there was no gap to push it through, so if the cats hadn’t moved the nail, then how did it get into the conservatory? Had Ed lied about being in there? Maybe I needed to expand my suspect list to include Ed, but right now I had to focus on finding out about Carla and Myron.
Earl frowned.“Yeah, but somebody killed Bob.”
“Are you sure that had something to do with the treasure?”
Earl’s eyes narrowed. “I thought so. This place might not be safe with a murdering ghost around.”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Not only was the notion of a murdering ghost absurd, I sure as heck didn’t need him spreading that rumor around town.
“I’m sure the police will find out that whoever killed Bob was no ghost.” Or, more likely, my mother, Millie and I would.
Earl didn’t look convinced. He glanced down at the mug in my hand. “Is that Carla’s mug?”
I’d almost forgotten I was carrying it. “Yeah. I washed it out and was returning it to the dining room so she could have it for her morning coffee.”
“Thought so. She acts like that thing is the Holy Grail, for crying out loud, brings it everywhere. It’s kind of embarrassing. You should see her at the office. She has a fit if anyone touches it.”
Maybe it wasn’t so bad that I’d encountered Earl in the hallway. He’d probably know what years Carla went to Yale. And the conversation about the mug was the perfect opportunity to ask. Not to mention no one else was in the hallway to hear us.
“I guess it’s quite an accomplishment to graduate from Yale though, right?”
Earl shrugged.“I guess. I went to Stanford.”
I nodded.“That’s a good school too. Are you older than Carla? Were you guys in college the same time?”
“I’m a few years older. Graduated in 1987.”
I did the math. Myron and Carla would have been at Yale at the same time. It was possible they’d worked together to kill Bob… but why?
“Is breakfast ready?” Earl asked, startling me out of my reverie.
“Almost. Go ahead in there and I will get everything set up for you.”
I rushed back into the kitchen after putting the mug on the sideboard where Carla liked it to be placed right next to the coffee urn, which I noticed with approval Flora had already set to percolating.
I rushed back into the kitchen, gathered the breakfast items together and walked them out to the sideboard.
I hovered in the doorway, watching everyone eat contentedly, if not a bit solemnly. They were shoveling in the quiche. No one complained about the lack of pancakes.Had one of them killed Bob?
My eyes drifted to the Yale mug. That mug could be the key to uncovering what really happened. But I still wondered if Paula had really seen Flora. Maybe Paula was in on it with her sister and Myron and they were trying to point the finger in Flora’s direction. And what about Ed? I didn’t dare mention my suspicions about him to Mom and Millie, they’d known him for years and would defend him as they had Flora. I didn’t want the killer to be Ed either. Myron and Carla were much better suspects in my book.
The crunch of tires on gravel pulled my gaze to the window. Mom and Millie were here and I couldn’t wait to tell them what I’d discovered.
I heard the kitchen door open and then Millie’s voice. “Josie is something burning?”
Twenty
I rushed in to the kitchen to see Millie rescuing the loaf pan from the oven. She put it on the counter and waved the smoke away, then sniffed.
“Oh, it’s the apple-pecan bread.” Then she sniffed deeper. “I think it needs more cinnamon. How long did you put it in for?”
“Ninety minutes just like your recipe said.” I gestured toward the timer on the microwave still ticking down. “It still has ten minutes.”
Millie looked at me as if she felt sorry for me.“Josie, that time was for a full loaf pan. You have to reduce it for the smaller pans.”
Darn. Who knew that you cooked things for less time when they are in a smaller pan? I probably should have. Lucky thing I’d decided to start small with my experiment and I still had some of the batter left. Besides, we had more pressing matters to discuss.
“Never mind about that.” I glanced back out into the hallway to make sure none of the Biddefords had followed me in. “I think I’ve discovered something.”
“Do tell,” Millie said.
“Remember how Myron lied about being here the night Bob was killed?”
“Yep.” Millie tasted the batter I’d mixed, then puckered her lips and rummaged in the spice drawer.
“Do you know where he went to college?”
Mom huffed.“Who could forget? He went to Yale. His father always made a big deal out of that, making the rest of us feel like our kids were inferior.”
“Why do you ask?” Millie sprinkled some cinnamon into the batter, grabbed a spoon and mixed it in.
“Well, Carla went to Yale too. She even has a mug that she makes me wash out so she can drink out of it. That’s how I put two and two together when I washed the mug this morning.” I hadn’t done that all on my own, though. Nero had practically pushed that mug off the counter. Had he been trying to point me in the right direction? Or had he just been trying to smash the mug on the floor because he also thought it was ridiculous that Carla brought her own mug?
“So you think they knew each other?” Mom asked.
I nodded and opened the oven door for Millie to slide in the two tiny loaf pans she’d filled with batter. I made a mental note as she set the timer to thirty-five minutes.
Millie shut the oven door, a twinkle in her eye.“We found out something about Myron last night too. His ancestor was Jedediah Biddeford’s butler.”
“I found that too! In the history book that you wanted me to bring for the table at the town celebration.” The cats had been interested in that book as well. Except it had seemed like theydidn’t want me to read it. Maybe I was reading too much into their actions?
Millie’s face fell in disappointment. “You already knew?”
I nodded, pushing down the pang of guilt at Millie and Mom’s looks of disappointment. Investigating was a source of pride for them and they clearly didn’t like the idea that I’d also discovered their key clue.
Millie broke into a genuine smile and turned to my mother.“Josie is turning into a good detective. We should include her in all our cases.”
Cases? It sounded as if they were contemplating becoming private investigators or something.
I held my hands up in front of me, palms out.“I think I have plenty to do just running the guesthouse.”
Mom looked me over as if I were an unworthy job applicant.“I don’t know. I suppose she might come in handy to drive us around while we interrogate suspects and look for clues.”
“Can we stick to the problem at hand?” The last thing I wanted to do with my days was drive my mother and Millie around. Hopefully this would be the last murder Oyster Cove would see for a long time and there would be no need to investigate anything in the future anyway.
Millie pressed her lips together.“Fine. Myron might have gone to school with Carla and his ancestor was Jed’s butler. Why would they kill Bob?”
“Well, I was thinking that a butler would know all the secrets of his master and maybe Myron’s ancestor knew where the treasure was buried. Maybe that information got passed down in the family and Myron came to dig it up.”