Wrong Side of the Claw

by Leighann Dobbs

  No sense in worrying too much about that. The cats had never failed to save the day before, and this time would be no different. Pandora stretched and snuggled farther down into the hay in Elspeth’s barn as the November wind howled outside. The hay, though not as comfortable as her plush cat bed, was warm, and she loved the earthy scent. It reminded her of horses and spring days, a welcome image, considering winter was soon to come.

  “I tell you, Felicity Bates is behind this.” Otis raised his nose in the air. “Her and that devil cat, Fluff.”

  Sasha blinked slowly at him. “But we haven’t found any evidence that she was in Jack’s card store.”

  “Maybe not,” Kelly piped in, giving her big, floofy Maine coon tail a twitch. “But she had been digging around town. That much we do know.”

  “And don’t forget Sarah Delaney,” Hope added. “She’s been digging around too.”

  “She is just as disagreeable as the Bates woman,” Sasha said.

  “And that vile dog!” Otis hissed. “Scuzzball or whatever its name is.”

  “Scuse-its,” Snowball said.

  Kelly jumped down from the loft. “No, it’s Squeakems, I think.”

  “Skeezits,” Pandora said. “But why would either of them kill Jack? Willa has been talking to his ghost, and he seems quite evasive.”

  “Really?” Inkspot glanced at her out of the corners of his eyes. “I wonder if more is going on here than meets the eye.”

  “Maybe Jack was in on the break-ins,” Snowball suggested.

  “He denies knowing Felicity,” Pandora said. “But I think he’s not telling the whole truth.”

  “I think a lot of the people involved are not telling the whole truth,” Inkspot said. “We must remain vigilant. The person behind this could be anyone, and we don’t want to get caught up in only looking at Felicity and Sarah. Remember the other times when the perpetrator was that who we least suspected?”

  The others nodded at Inkspot’s stern warning.

  “There are many in town who hide their true desire to see the dark side take over behind a façade,” Hope said. “We’d do best not to forget that.”

  “Agreed.” Pandora fixed each of her feline comrades with a pointed stare. “But there is something else I find most troubling at the moment. Gus. She’s the sheriff in this town. We need to get her back to her former crime-solving self before it’s too late. My human is trying to fill in for her, but she could get hurt. She’s tracking a killer and doesn’t even have a gun the way Gus does!”

  “I was able to communicate to Elspeth that Gus had been hexed,” Tigger offered, soothing Pandora’s frazzled nerves a bit. “She said it sounded like a potion hex, and she was going to make an antidote potion to reverse it. But how we’ll get Gus to drink it is another matter entirely.”

  “That’s the human’s problem.” Otis sniffed imperiously.

  “It’s too bad we can’t figure out who hexed Gus,” Inkspot said. “Because it’s clear that person does not want Gus investigating. And that would seem to indicate the person who hexed her is likely the one who has been breaking in everywhere and has recently turned into a killer.”

  15

  The next morning, I awoke with a headache. Whether it was from tossing and turning over the strange way Jack’s ghost had acted and my ominous feelings about his murder or the martinis I’d consumed in order to conjure him, I wasn’t sure. A few aspirins took care of it, and Pandora and I arrived only ten minutes later than usual to open the shop.

  The regulars were all there, wearing thick fall sweaters and shuffling their feet. Relief spread over their faces when they saw me coming.

  “Late start today, Willa?” Hattie asked as I unlocked the door.

  Cordelia leaned in to her sister and faux-whispered, “Maybe that nice Eddie Striker made her late.”

  I ignored her and hid the blush creeping into my cheeks by opening the door and ushering them in.

  “We were a little worried, Willa, what with everything going on.” Bing handed me the Styrofoam coffee cup, and we all sat down on the sofa and chairs.

  “Sorry. I woke up a little under the weather.” I peeled back the plastic lid of the coffee cup and inhaled the earthy scent. Heaven. I took a tentative sip. It wasn’t too hot, so I took a bigger sip, willing the caffeine into my system so it could do its job.

  “Worried about Jack’s murder?” Hattie glanced in the direction of Jack’s shop.

  “Mew.” Pandora trotted around the group. Her kinked tail bobbed in the air as she rubbed against their ankles and headbutted their hands to remind them to scratch behind her ears.

  “Sort of.” I took another sip.

  “I hope you’re not worried about Gus.” Josiah leaned forward in his chair, his concerned eyes meeting mine. “I’ve noticed she isn’t acting quite herself.”

  “Well, now that you mention it, I have been a bit worried.” Pandora stopped in front of me and rubbed against my leg. I petted the top of her head, the soft, silky fur giving me comfort. “But she’s probably just having an off day, or maybe she isn’t feeling well. I mean, I’m sure she has things with the investigation under control.” The last thing I wanted was for my regulars to worry about Gus not having a handle on catching the killer who could be running amok in Mystic Notch.

  Hattie reached over and patted my knee. “Don’t worry, dear. Even if Gus is moving slowly on things, the killer will be caught. Especially with Jack’s wife looking into things now.”

  I stopped mid-sip and frowned at her over the rim of my cup. “Jack’s wife is looking into things? How do you know that?”

  “Oh, Myra, down at the Cut and Curl, saw her going through the trash out in the alley,” Cordelia answered for her twin. “Myra’s back door opens to the same alleyway as Jack’s card store.”

  “What was she doing in the trash?” I made a mental note to ask Striker if they’d looked through the trash for clues. Of course they had. I mean, that was investigating 101, wasn’t it?

  Cordelia shrugged. “I’m not sure. Myra asked Brenda what she was doing, and she got all tearful and said if the police weren’t going to do anything about Jack’s death, then she sure was.”

  “Jeez, that’s kind of premature to assume the police aren’t going to do anything,” Josiah said. “Looked like they did a thorough job at the card store to me.”

  “Well, you know how grieving widows are,” Hattie said. “They want answers right away. But we know it takes time to investigate these things.”

  “It’s only been a few days. I’m sure something will break.” Bing stood and started toward the door. “I’m gonna get back home. Brushing up on my card tricks today.”

  “Yep, gotta get to the post office.” Josiah followed him to the door.

  “And we need to go shopping. There’s a sale at the Creekside Dress Shop.” Cordelia pulled Hattie off the couch. As they approached the door, Cordelia turned back to me. “Don’t worry, dear. I’m sure Gus will come around.”

  I remained on the purple sofa for a moment, taking that new information in. Was Gus’s apparent lack of enthusiasm so noticeable that the citizens were starting to investigate now? I’d better help her up her game before something else happened.

  The door opened, and Pepper came in. Seeing me on the sofa, she wrinkled her forehead in concern and came and sat beside me. “Hey, Willa. How are things going? You look a bit tired today.”

  “Probably because I am.” I sighed and set my empty cup on the table before us. “It’s exhausting trying to do the work of two people. Until Gus is back to her old self and doing her job again, I feel like I have two jobs.”

  “I’m sorry.” Pepper rubbed my back. “Would it help to talk the case out?”

  “Maybe.” I sat back and closed my eyes, focusing on what I knew so far. “We don’t have a lot to go on, frankly. First, a string of prior break-ins where nothing was stolen.”

  “Which means they weren’t looking to rob the place,” Pepper said. “They were l
ooking for something instead.”

  “Right.” I opened my eyes and straightened. “Did they find it at Jack’s? Is that why they killed him?”

  “What about the deposit?” Pepper asked. “You told me it was stolen from his store.”

  “I’m not sure about that.” I shook my head. “The other stores didn’t have any cash lying around, it’s true, but there were other valuables. Wouldn’t they have taken those and sold them for cash if that was what they were after?”

  “Probably. If they were after money.” Pepper pursed her lips, narrowing her gaze.

  “You’re thinking about that list again, aren’t you?”

  “Well, if no money was taken…” She let her voice trail off.

  “That doesn’t make any sense either, though. If the thieves were looking for these ingredients, then why take the money from Jack’s?”

  “You said yourself the other shops didn’t have any money. Maybe the thieves didn’t take valuable items because they knew the sale of those items might be traced back to them, but when they saw cash lying around, they grabbed it.”

  “That takes Felicity Bates out, then. She’s not that smart.” Even Pandora agreed with that, judging by the little meow that came from her cat bed in the window.

  “But if this is about the ingredients, then that negates the theory that the person knew Jack’s routine and broke in on purpose because they knew the deposit money would be there,” Pepper said.

  “Good point. So we’re back to square one.”

  Pepper nodded and sank back into her chair. “Were you able to summon Jack’s ghost and talk to him about what happened?”

  “Yep. Twice. But he’s acting a little weird too. Like he could care less whether his murder is solved or not.” I exhaled slowly. “So strange. Last night when I talked to him, he was evasive and cagey about what he was doing that night. I think he might be embarrassed that he can’t remember, but he shouldn’t be. New ghost amnesia is quite common.”

  “Hmm.” Pepper tapped a finger against her lips. “You said before that there was lipstick on his collar when they examined the body at the shop.”

  “Yep.”

  “I wonder if that has something to do with why he’s acting weird.” She gave me a side-glance. “Maybe he had another woman in his life besides Brenda.”

  “Maybe he did. Striker and I did discuss that briefly. That would sure explain his odd behavior.” Feeling a renewed sense of energy, I pushed to my feet. “I need to find out if Brenda wears bright-red lipstick.”

  “I can help you there,” Pepper said, pushing to her feet beside me. “What better way to get a sample than to bring the grieving widow some tea and scones from my shop to give our condolences?”

  16

  An hour later, Pepper and I were knocking on the door to Brenda’s house. I had a bag of freshly baked chocolate chip scones in my hands while Pepper carried the quilted tote with all her tea supplies. She’d made a special batch of relaxation blend just for Brenda, hoping it might make the woman want to open up and share with us.

  Our plan was to get Brenda to drink some of the tea to calm her, then I would excuse myself to use the bathroom and search for the lipstick. We didn’t want to ask her outright about it, because we didn’t want to upset her, just in case the lipstick wasn’t hers.

  I raised my hand to knock a second time when the door suddenly opened.

  Brenda looked surprised, her brown curls in disarray around her head. “Willa. Pepper. What are you doing here?”

  “We thought we’d stop by and see how you’re doing,” Pepper said, giving the woman a kindly smile. “We brought tea and scones and thought we might have a nice visit.”

  “Oh.” Brenda’s gaze darted from the tray in Pepper’s hands to the bag in mine. “Well, I guess that’s fine. Come in.”

  We walked into her quaint two-story Cape Cod home, and the first thing I noticed was the abundance of knickknacks. Everything from figurines to spoons. Probably an occupational hazard, given the nature of Jack’s business. Even though he dealt in sports cards, I knew that it was hard to go to the auctions where cards were bought and not buy some of the other items. I’d done the same myself while waiting for a book lot to come up to the auction block.

  We took a seat in the living room, before the crackling fire, and Brenda brought out plates and napkins for the scones while Pepper set everything out. Then we settled in for our conversation.

  “How are you doing?” I asked, doing my best to convey my concern through my tone. “It must be hard, what you’re going through.”

  “It is,” Brenda said, her hand shaking slightly as she sipped her tea. Gradually, the lines of stress on her face eased, though, and her stiff posture sagged. Score one for the relaxation tea. I glanced sideways at Pepper, and she smiled. Brenda sighed. “I’m still so upset about Jack’s death. I’m not eating. I’m not sleeping. It’s awful. Just awful.”

  “I’m sure it is. I can’t imagine what you’ve been going through.” Pepper reached over and placed her hand atop Brenda’s in her lap. “But that’s why we’re here. Anything you need to talk about, feel free.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, setting my tea aside. “But may I use your restroom?”

  “Sure.” Brenda pointed down a nearby hall. “Second door on your right.”

  “Thank you.” While they continued talking, I went to investigate. Once inside the bathroom, I locked the door behind me then turned on the faucet so Brenda wouldn’t hear me snooping. I checked the cabinets and the drawers for red lipstick but only found clear lip gloss. Darn. I flushed the toilet and washed my hands. Maybe she kept the lipstick in her bedroom? I glanced in but didn’t see any cosmetics on the bureau and couldn’t risk her catching me snooping through her drawers, so I went back to the living room.

  Brenda wasn’t wearing any lipstick at all today, and she seemed more than suitably upset about losing her husband. My gut said she wasn’t Jack’s killer. I took my seat again and picked up my tea, giving a subtle shake of my head to let Pepper know I’d come up empty in my search. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, Brenda, but who else do you think might’ve known about the bank deposits?”

  Pepper nibbled on a scone, her gaze intent on Brenda. “Sarah Delaney, maybe? Or what about Felicity Bates?”

  “No. Neither of them, that I’m aware of. We never really knew either of them well.” Brenda finished her tea then picked up a scone. “This is all delicious. Thanks for thinking of me.”

  “No problem,” I said.

  “My husband was just trying to protect his shop.” Brenda wiped her mouth with a napkin. “He was hoping to catch the burglar himself so no one in town had to worry anymore.”

  “Really?” Pepper frowned over at me before looking back at Brenda. “So, Jack was setting a trap for someone?”

  “No. Not a trap,” she said around another bite of scone. “He was just protecting his collectibles. I mean, we have insurance and all, but if items get stolen, we only get replacement cost, not the profit we’d make on the sale. He was keeping watch to make sure no one got in…”

  Her voice drifted off, and she gazed out the window, almost as if in a daze, before speaking again. “You know, now that I think about it, there might’ve been one person who knew about Jack’s deposits. Duane Crosby. Being neighbors, they sometimes went to the bank for each other.”

  I nodded. This confirmed the information I’d gotten the day before. Mrs. Quimby had mentioned seeing Duane, which wasn’t unusual, considering the stores shared an entrance, but what if Duane really was the culprit?

  “But then again, no matter how much I pestered him to change up his schedule, Jack always went to the bank on Thursday mornings, like clockwork. Having a routine like that would make it easy for anyone who was the least bit observant to track his banking habits. I tried to warn him. I did.”

  She started to dissolve into tears, and Pepper handed Brenda a fresh napkin to dry her eyes.

  While she sniffle
d, I tried a different question. “Someone mentioned seeing you out in the alleyway behind Jack’s shop, going through the trash the other day. You aren’t thinking of investigating yourself, are you?”

  “What?” Brenda looked up at me, her eyes red. “No. Of course not. I have confidence in the police. I just would like to know who killed my husband. But I wouldn’t be averse to things moving a bit faster. Pardon me, Willa. I know the sheriff is your sister, but she doesn’t seem all that interested in bringing in a suspect on my husband’s case. And I need closure.”

  My gut churned, and I made sympathetic noises. “I’m sure the police looked there already. Did you find anything they might have overlooked?”

  “No. Nothing.” More tears fell. “My poor, poor Jack.”

  Pepper patted Brenda’s hand as Brenda sobbed into one of the embroidered linen napkins Pepper had brought. I glanced down, saw a knitting bag at Brenda’s feet, and remembered Mrs. Quimby’s knitting class that night. I wasn’t sure if Striker and Gus had asked any of the attendees if they’d seen anything. Might as well ask Brenda while she was under the relaxing effects of the special tea.

  “I see you have a knitting project going. Is that from Mrs. Quimby’s knitting class?”

  Brenda glanced down at the bag and nodded. She blew her nose on the linen napkin. Pepper made a face, no doubt making a mental note to make sure that napkin got special laundering.

  Brenda picked the project out of the bag and held it up. It was still attached to the needles, but I could see it was a sock done in pink-and-orange yarn. “I was knitting it for Jack.”

  “It’s very nice. Did you spend the whole class on that?” I asked.