‘Something that would be irresistible to the killer. Something that would make them expose themselves somehow.’
I snapped my fingers. ‘Got it! What if we say we found a clue in the room Charles was killed and when the police run forensics on it, it will leave no doubt who killed Charles.’
‘Like what? DNA? A fingerprint?’ Ron asked.
‘Maybe.’
‘We might not have to be too specific,’ Iona said. ‘We can avoid the details, just a hint is better.’
‘But how do we get this information to the killer?’
‘This is a small town and unless I am out of touch, if there is something juicy to talk about, there are certain circles where you can let the secret out and it will be around town in no time.’ Iona glanced at me and I nodded.
‘Good,’ Ron said. ‘Here’s what we need to do. We’ll start a rumor that you’ve found a clue to the killer’s identity. It’s in the West wing where Charles was killed.’
‘And the killer will come to find it before the police!’ Iona said.
I frowned. ‘That won’t work, the killer isn’t just going to waltz into a guesthouse full of people.
Ron’s eyes gleamed. ‘Not with a guesthouse full of people. But everyone knows that you don’t serve dinner. Can you arrange something in town where your guests get a discount somewhere tomorrow night? We’ll help make sure everyone goes out to take advantage of it.’ Ron pointed to the clam bag. ‘You know, like you made it so obvious that there was a special at Salty’s.’
My cheeks prickled with heat. Had I been that obvious? Is that why Ron and Iona had gotten takeout? Oh well, it all worked out in the end. ‘I think I can arrange something. Tony down at the Marinara Mariner owes me one.’
I could maybe get him to make a special twenty percent off coupon for the guests in exchange for making sure no one ever found out about him and Tina. Blackmail? Sure. But it was for a good cause.
‘And one more thing to make it irresistible,’ Ron said. ‘When you are spreading the rumor, make sure it is known that you will be out of town until the next morning, but the guesthouse will remain unlocked so that your guests can come and go after dinner.’
‘Okay,’ I said.
‘Good, maybe if you can get that rumor started tomorrow morning, we can have our killer in handcuffs by tomorrow night.’
‘Sounds good,’ I said. ‘I know exactly where to start.’
Twenty
The next morning I was up with the gulls. Looking at them through the kitchen window, I wondered if they would stop dying off once Stella was in jail. There were only two over her deck now and I swear a month ago there would be six or seven in the morning.
Now what for breakfast? I wished I hadn’t spent so much time trying to come up with the best way to spread the rumor and sweet-talking Tony into getting me coupons last night. Mom and Millie had picked them up and were supposed to deliver them here any minute.
I was rummaging through the recipe file—still no sour cream coffee cake —when I heard a tap on the kitchen door.
Mom and Millie were outside with sneaky looks on their faces, glancing back behind them and whispering. I motioned for them to come in and the door squeaked as Millie opened it. I made a mental note to oil the hinges later on, or whatever one did for squeaky doors. I had enough going on right now.
Millie presented the special coupons from The Marinara Mariner. ‘Tony made these up special, just like you asked him to.’
‘He was very nice to us.’ Mom leaned in and whispered. ‘Didn’t want us to tell his little secret.’
The cats trotted over and purred at Millie’s feet while she fed them some sort of fishy smelling treats. I didn’t have those types of treats here for them and I wondered if she’d been holding out on me and keeping the most savory treats for herself so she would still be their favorite.
Millie scowled at the stove, peeked in the oven and then turned her frown on me. ‘You haven’t started breakfast yet?’
‘I was just trying to figure out what to cook.’
Millie glanced at her watch. ‘It’s almost seven thirty, not much time to make something.’ She pressed her lips together and glanced at the pantry. ‘Hmm… I know. Do you have any breakfast ham?’
I glanced in the fridge. Two ham patties sat wrapped in their plastic covering. ‘Yep.’
‘Good, then we’ll make Ham and Cheese Muffin Puffs. It will only take twenty minutes and the guests love them.’ Millie rushed into the pantry and grabbed the Bisquick. ‘Get out the ham and some eggs, milk, cheese and olive oil.’
I did as I was told and twenty minutes later the kitchen was filled with the smell of homemade biscuits. Millie pulled golden biscuits with pink dots of ham and gooey cheese out of the oven. I added a fruit bowl and milk and cereal and we headed to the dining room where the guests had already gathered.
Ron and Iona shot me a knowing look. Tina gave me a nervous glance. About the only one I didn’t have a secret with was Ava. She was looking around with a twinkle in her eye as if she was onto the fact that there were questionable goings on at the guesthouse.
‘I have a nice surprise for everyone,’ I announced, after I’d laid the food out and they were milling about the buffet table making their selections. I held up the coupons. ‘The Marinara Mariner has offered a wonderful 50 percent discount on dinner between 7 and 9 tonight for guests of the Oyster Cove Guesthouse only.’
‘The food there is wonderful,’ Ron said.
‘That’s a good deal,’ Iona added.
‘Marinara gives me heartburn.’ Ava squinted at the coupon.
‘I’ve never heard of the place, is it good?’ Tina’s demeanor dripped with faux innocence but her sideways glance told me that Tony had already alerted her to my blackmail demand.
‘Yes and since Josie has to go out of town tonight, it will be good for you all to have a night out. The guesthouse will be unlocked for you when you get back,’ Millie said.
Ava’s eyes narrowed. ‘So, would the last person in lock the front door, then?’
That stumped me. ‘Err… that’s not necessary. It’s not like someone is going to break in and steal things. Very low crime here.’ Except for the recent murder. ‘And of course your individual rooms are locked, so no one can go in there.’
Ava studied me for a few beats then nodded. ‘Okay then. Sounds good. I do have a hankering for garlic bread.’
With breakfast served and the dirty deed done, I headed back to the kitchen with Mom and Millie. I didn’t have time to waste. I had to get to the post office during peak gossip hours in time to let the news that the guesthouse would be empty and unlocked make its way to the killer.
The post office was always the most crowded at 11 a.m., so I timed it to get there then. I wanted to maximize the amount of people who overheard me to ensure the rumor got spread around quickly. I knew that Stella liked to keep track of everything that went on around town, so I was positive it would get back to her.
‘Hey Josie,’ Jen looked over at me as she wrestled Priority Mail tape onto a ginormous package that little old gray-haired Lottie Cox had hefted onto the counter.
‘Hi Jen! I just stopped by to say goodbye before my trip tonight.’
‘You’re going on a trip?’
‘Just overnight. Be back in the morning.’
‘Umm… okay.’ She put the last of the tape on the package and punched something into the postal machine, then turned to Lottie ‘That will be $23.21.’
‘$23.31!’ Lottie clutched her purse against her chest. ‘Highway robbery!’
‘Sorry Lottie, but I don’t set the prices. I could send it regular mail?’
Lottie’s lips pursed. ‘How long would that take?’
Jen consulted the screen in front of her. ‘Seven days.’
‘Forget it.’ Lottie creaked open her purse and counted out the money. ‘Darn government is getting greedy.’
While Jen completed the transaction, I continued, ‘Yeah, so
my guests are eating at the Mariner tonight. Tony has a special coupon just for the Oyster Cove Guesthouse. Isn’t that nice?’
Jen’s left brow quirked up at the mention of Tony. ‘All the guests?’
I hadn’t yet filled her in on the fact that I’d discovered the Weatherby’s true identity and our plan to dupe Stella into revealing herself as the killer. ‘Yep. And it’s a shame I have to go away too because I may have found an important clue as to the identity of the person who killed Charles Prescott.’
The hubbub of conversation among the post office customers stopped.
‘A clue? Like what?’ Jen asked.
‘I can’t really say, but the police are meeting me tomorrow morning to take it. I’d do it tonight but already had the plans to go away.’
‘Right. Plans. So, I guess the guesthouse will be empty?’ Jen said loudly. She’d been a quick study in high school and apparently that hadn’t changed. She must have caught on to my intentions.
‘Yep, exactly.’ I winked to thank her.
‘Did you have something to mail?’ She asked, because I was standing there holding up the line.
‘Huh? Oh no… Ummm… Just came to check my post office box. You know because I’m going out of town tonight.’ I made a big show of going over to the post office box. I tried to keep the smile off my face as I heard people mumbling about the big clue and the guesthouse, how I was going out of town and how it wasn’t fair that Tony Murano had given a special coupon to only my guests.
The box was full of fliers, so I tugged them out and went over to dump them in the bin that the post office kept against the wall for such things. My way was blocked by Mike Sullivan. Arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed. He looked suspicious. Probably that Navy investigator training.
‘What’s this about you going out of town, Sunshine? Aunt Millie didn’t mention that,’ he said.
‘I don’t usually apprise Millie of my itinerary and if I did, she wouldn’t tell you because it would be none of your business.’ I dumped the fliers in the bin and headed for the door.
He followed me, holding the door open as I swept out into the street. ‘I think you’re bluffing. Tell me what you’re up to.’
I stopped on the sidewalk and looked back at him, using my most innocent expression. ‘Honestly Mike I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
Mew! Meow!
Nero and Marlowe appeared at my feet. How did they get into town so fast? They ran over to Mike, circling around his ankles and purring. He bent down to pet them.
‘Josie, I don’t mean to be nosey, but this could be dangerous.’ He stood, towering over me, which is no easy task because I’m five-foot-seven. ‘I just don’t want you to get hurt.’
Meroo!
Apparently Nero agreed with him.
‘Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.’ I turned to walk toward my car, but he latched onto my elbow, holding it gently but swinging me around to face him. My arm tingled, my heart fluttered, but my brain got annoyed with his insistence.
‘Josie, I think I know who the killer is. I was with Internal Affairs in the Navy and have experience with this sort of thing. Leave it to me.’ His face showed only concern, not ego or pushiness, but I wasn’t going to leave it to him. For one, I doubted he was going to nail his old high school sweetheart and for two it was important for me to prove that I could do this. Plus, I had it all planned out with the Weatherbys and what could possibly go wrong?
I extracted my elbow gently. ‘I think I know who it is too and the wheels are already set in motion. And besides, I’m not stupid and I’m not a kid anymore. I think I can solve this without your help.’
Twenty-One
Despite the confidence I’d had about catching the killer when I’d talked to Mike outside the post office, I was jittery as a chihuahua in winter. I was half afraid he’d stick around the guesthouse, as I knew he suspected I was up to something. But he must have believed my story about going away. He finished up work and bid me farewell at four, asking about my flight. I told him I was taking a train just in case he had designs on checking up on me at the airport. I had a twinge of guilt as I watched him drive off. He’d acted a little cool all afternoon and I hoped I hadn’t been too harsh with him outside the post office.
At 6:30, Ron and Iona got the ball rolling by ushering everyone to the Marinara Mariner. Their plan was to get seated with all the others, then Ron would excuse himself to the bathroom and double back. He wanted to be here to make the arrest.
We figured the killer would come in the front door and head straight down the hall to the West wing. They wouldn’t try the window for fear it would be locked, and why bother when they knew the front door would be unlocked and no one home? I turned off the lights and Ron and I crouched in the pitch-black doorway to the butler’s pantry and waited.
At around 7:15, we heard a noise. Only problem was, it wasn’t at the front door.
‘That sounds like the kitchen,’ I whispered to Ron.
‘Why would someone come in the kitchen?’ Ron whispered back.
‘I have no idea.’ Mom and Millie knew about the plan so they wouldn’t be coming in that door. Flora had already left for the day and she never came back to the guesthouse after work. Could it be Mike? I knew he’d seen through my act at the post office but surely he wouldn’t ruin our plan.
Ron stood and the floor creaked.
‘Shhh…’
We froze, but the creak must not have bothered the intruder because the next thing we heard was the squeak of the hinges on the kitchen door opening. Good thing I hadn’t oiled them.
Ron tapped my arm and pointed to the kitchen, communicating that we should sneak over there quietly. It wasn’t as if I couldn’t have figured that one out on my own. One end of the butler’s pantry opened into the kitchen and we tip-toed through.
The kitchen was dark, but I could make out a form bending over the counter. By the size, shape and cloying smell of floral-scented perfume wafting over, I could tell it was Stella.
It had been her all along! But why was she standing at the kitchen counter? It looked like she was going through the recipes. Had she hidden something in the recipe box or cookbook? The rest of the note they’d found in Charles’ room? Or maybe she wanted to swipe a recipe before heading into the West wing to look for the fake evidence I’d found. Either way she wasn’t going to complete her mission.
I flicked on the light switch and jumped into the room. ‘Aha!’
‘We caught you red-handed!’ Ron chimed in.
Stella whirled around, squinting into the light. Her hands flew out, palms up in front of her. She dropped the paper she was holding and it floated down to the floor.
‘What is that?’ I pointed to the paper. ‘Part of the note Charles left?’
‘A confession maybe,’ Ron said. Did he have to add something every time I spoke?
‘Hardly.’ Stella put her hands down and glared at us.
‘Fine.’ Ron whipped out his badge, the gold shield glinting in the light as he thrust it out toward her. ‘I’ll be calling the police then and they’ll get a confession from you.’
‘For what?’ Stella crossed her arms over her chest. ‘I hardly think the police will care that I came to borrow a recipe.’
I glanced at the floor. Yep. Looked like a recipe.
‘Not for that,’ Ron said. ‘For poisoning gulls and killing Charles Prescott.’
‘What? I never killed anyone! Or poisoned anyone for that matter. Except that time Mr. Dudley got sick from my cream puffs but that was unintentional.’
‘Of course you did. He found out you were poisoning the gulls and threatened to blackmail you, so you had to kill him,’ I said.
Mew.
That sounded like Nero out in the parlor. Not sure what he was meowing about but apparently he hadn’t figured out that all the action was going on here in the kitchen.
Stella made a face. ‘I’m not poisoning the gulls. Who told you that?’
‘No one told me. It’s as plain as day that they are affecting your business.’ I gestured in the direction of her inn.
Meow.
Was that Marlowe? It sounded like she was near the front stairway.
‘They are not. I admit it’s hard to keep up with cleaning the gull poop off the deck, but tourists love to go and feed the gulls. In fact, I have special ‘gull food’ canisters now that I sell them specifically for feeding the birds.’ Stella shrugged at our disbelieving looks. ‘It’s just stale bread but hey, if life gives you lemons you make lemonade.’
I glanced at Ron. He was stroking his chin and studying Stella. ‘Then why did you break in here tonight if not to get the evidence before it was given to the police?’
Stella sighed and pointed at the scrap of paper on the floor. ‘Okay, I admit it. I wasn’t borrowing a recipe. I was returning one.’
‘Returning?’ I bent down to pick the paper up.
‘Yes, it’s Millie’s sour cream coffee cake recipe. It’s really delicious, so I stole it to make for the cooking contest. I wanted to sneak in and return it sooner but after you came over and started asking all the questions about why I was hanging around the Guesthouse, I didn’t dare. So when I heard you wouldn’t be here and the place would be unlocked, I figured it was a perfect time to return it.’
I stared at the paper in my hand. Handwritten on a blue lined index card and smudged with an old butter stain was Millie’s distinctive handwriting in a faded blue pen. It was the missing Sour Cream Coffee Cake recipe. Had Stella really broken in just to return it or was this some clever trick to use as an excuse to be here because she really was breaking in to get the trumped-up evidence?
‘But it has to be you,’ I said.
Meroo!
That one came from the hallway, probably the cats were just figuring out we had the killer cornered in the kitchen. But now, looking at the recipe I had to wonder if we’d made a mistake.
‘Why does it have to be me? I'm not the only one who could poison the gulls. Why don’t you ask Barbara Littlefield? She's the one who was conspiring with Charles up on the cliff.’
A Twist in the Tail: An absolutely purrfect cozy mystery (The Oyster Cove Guesthouse Book 1) Page 17
