Approval radiated from Millie at my quick reaction, but before Myron could launch into his spiel, Seth showed up.
“Hello, ladies.” Seth nodded at each of us, but his gaze lingered on Millie.
“I made your favorites, Seth.” Millie held up the bag of cookies and opened it, tipping the bag forward so we could all see inside. She tipped the bag further forward, letting one cookie slide out onto the grass as if by accident. “Oh, dear me. I’ve dropped one.”
She dropped to her knees and made a show of rooting around in the grass under the table for the cookie.“What lovely shoes, Myron. You’re always such a sharp dresser.”
Myron tugged at his tie uncomfortably, a look of confusion crossing his face.“Um… thanks.”
Millie tugged on Paula’s arm. It didn’t take much to get her to stumble and Millie pulled her down so she could see Myron’s shoes. “Aren’t those lovely, Paula?”
“Sure, they’re very nice but I don’t see any beer-tent tickets.”
“We’ll get to the beer tent. Don’t you worry about that. But do these shoes look a little familiar to you?” Millie asked.
Myron shot up from his seat.“What is the meaning of this? Why are you so interested in my shoes?”
Seth was watching carefully. He might seem like a dunderhead, but he actually could be rather sharp sometimes. He’d caught on that Millie had an ulterior motive here and was smart enough to keep quiet and see where this would lead. Perhaps all of Mom and Millie’s meddling in his investigations really had given him respect for their skills.
“Familiar?” Paula stumbled to her feet and glanced around behind us. “If there’s no tickets I’m just going to—”
“Take another look, Paula,” Millie said. “I think these might be the shoes that woke you up the night Bob was murdered.”
Paula’s eyes widened. She bent down again to look at the shoes. She scrunched up her face, closed her eyes and then opened them one at a time. “Well, they are fine Italian leather like the ones I saw. Very similar. Let me see the backs. I mostly saw the backs as the person was running away.”
“I certainly will not.” Myron looked at Seth. “Do I have to?”
Seth shrugged.“What’s the harm? Unless you have something to hide.”
Myron marched out from behind the table and spun around.
Paula nodded.“Yep very similar to the shoes I saw.”
“Similar? Or are theyexactly the shoes?” Seth asked.
“Well, I can’t say for sure. I mean I was just waking up and my memory is fuzzy. There are a lot of fancy shoes like these, in fact I saw a woman wearing similar shoes earlier.” Paula glanced in the direction that Annabel had gone.
“She’s not a reliable witness. I heard that she’s drunk all the time!” Myron said.
“I’m not drunkall the time.” Paula crossed her arms over her chest.
“I demand to know what this is about.” Myron looked at Seth.
“Paula saw someone running from where the murder happened and they wore expensive shoes,” Seth said. “Apparently Millie here is playing amateur detective and thinks Paula might recognize the shoes as yours.”
“Running from where the murder happened? But that was centuries ago, why I couldn’t…” Myron’s face relaxed a little. “Oh! You mean the recent murder, not the skeleton they found in the wall.”
“Of course. That’s what we’re investigating. Can’t really investigate a murder from three centuries ago.”
Myron blew out a breath.“Well that’s ridiculous. Why would I kill one of the Biddefords?”
“You have a family connection to the Biddefords,” Mom said.
Myron made a face.“Yeah, about three hundred years back. What would that have to do with anything recent?”
“There was treasure rumored to be buried there,” Millie said. “Maybe one of your ancestors knew where it was and when you went to dig it up Bob had gotten there first.”
Myron laughed.“You believe that treasure rumor? What would I want with some old moldy treasure chest that probably doesn’t have anything of modern value in it? I have plenty of money. I own a bank. And besides, I wouldn’t waste my time. That treasure doesn’t even exist according tomy family lore.”
Did Myron have some family intel about the treasure or was he just saying that as a cover?
“Why did you lie about being there then?” I asked.
Myron turned sheepish. He glanced around to make sure none of the other people in the tent were listening.“I had a good reason—that stupid treasure hunt actually messed it up. I was there, but not because of the treasure.” He glanced at Seth. “I have proof. Normally I’d make you get a search warrant, but I’m not guilty and I want you to stop accusing me and find the real killer, so I’d behappy to show it to you.”
Millie looked skeptical.“You would? That’s a little fishy. If you really have a reason, seems like you’d be more irate about being accused.”
“Oh, I am. But I don’t want to ruin the bank’s reputation, which would happen if a crowd witnessed you accusing me, or worse, hauling me off in cuffs.”
“Okay, let me see this proof,” Seth said.
“Me too,” Millie added.
“Notyou.” Myron glared at Millie. “You’re just a civilian and it’s none of your business. Just the sheriff.”
Paula crossed her arms over her chest and pouted at Millie.“You said we were going to get free beer at the beer tent.”
“I’ll take you,” Mom said, and headed off with Paula.
Seth leveled a look at me and Millie.“Well, you heard the man. We don’t need civilians seeing someone’s private business.”
“Come on, Josie, let’s go look over there at the Frobusher’s local honey display.” She shot a coquettish glance at Seth and batted her eyelashes before pulling me aside and whispering in my ear. “I’ll get it out of him later, but for now let’s just let Myron show it to him.”
We wandered away, both keeping an eye on Seth and Myron. Myron showed him something on his cell phone and Seth nodded approvingly. Darn! Whatever Myron was showing him must’ve satisfied Seth.
Seth started walking away and Millie did an about-face.“Yoo-hoo, Sethy!” She summoned him over in her most provocative manner. “Now, I know it’s probably a big secret and all, but I don’t think it would hurt if you could tell us what Myron showed you.”
She walked her fingers up his arm playfully. Seth smiled but took her hand away gently.
“I can’t tell you, but I can tell you one thing: he does have proof of why he was there and that proof has a timestamp of when the coroner has told us Bob was killed. The pond is a fifteen-minute walk from the gazebo in the daytime, probably longer in the dark, and we all know Myron is no woodsman. It would take him an hour to get through the thick overgrowth. I don’t think he could be the killer.”
“So, it must have been one of the Biddefords,” Millie said.
Seth’s face turned solemn. “I don’t think so.”
“Why?” Millie asked.
“We processed all of the shovels we took from the carriage house. There were six shovels in the shed, one for each member of the Biddeford family, except Bob whose shovel was found next to him at the murder scene. And not one of them has any DNA from Bob on the metal end—the blade. The coroner has determined Bob was killed with the metal part of the shovel, but the only shovel that matched his DNA was the one Bob used, and that only had epithelia on the handle. Nothing on the blade, which substantiates Doris Biddeford’s claim that Bob took off on his own but the rest of them stayed together.”
“He wasn’t killed with one of the shovels in the carriage house?” I asked. Something about Doris’s claim didn’t sit right. Hadn’t she asked the others at breakfast before Bob’s body was found, if anyone found the treasure? If they all stayed together she would have known if anything was found. Had she lied to the police?