by Libby Klein
I got up and did a warrior sequence for my yoga flow while being openly critiqued by Fig. Then I showered and dressed and we went down the back staircase to make power smoothies for breakfast.
What the—? I stood in the kitchen doorway, too stunned to move. The scene of carnage that was set before me left me speechless, and I struggled to take it all in. Someone had come into my home, in the middle of the night, and smashed every single one of the muffins I had made for the guests’ breakfast tomorrow. Crumbs were scattered all over the kitchen like it had rained lemon poppy-seed streusel.
I narrowed my eyes at Figaro. “Did you do this?”
He flopped over on his side.
Aunt Ginny opened her bedroom door and froze in her tracks. “Sweet Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus. What did you do?”
“I didn’t do this.” Then realization dawned on me. “I think we’ve been hit by the neighborhood robber. Don’t touch anything, but look to see if anything is missing.”
Aunt Ginny went back into her bedroom while I searched the kitchen. Microwave, espresso machine, pot holders, salt and pepper shakers—check. Then my heart deflated as I realized my brand-new, very expensive, copper saucier was missing. I felt sick to my stomach. I called the police to report the crime and they said they were sending an officer over.
A waft of Hermès perfume floated into the room with Georgina close behind. “Good mor … What on earth? Did the cat do all this?”
Figaro sat up and flicked his tail at Georgina.
Aunt Ginny returned to the kitchen. “I don’t think I’m missing anything in there. I’ll start checking the rest of the house.”
I passed Georgina and headed into the sunroom. “We’ve been robbed.”
Georgina took off running up the stairs to her bedroom.
Aunt Ginny muttered as she went by, “No thanks, I’ll check this room by myself. You just worry about your own things.”
We looked around but everything else seemed to be in order, so Aunt Ginny and I met in the library to wait for the officer.
Aunt Ginny sat on the edge of the wing chair and wrung her hands in her butter-yellow twinset. “I don’t like this. I don’t like this one bit. To think, a stranger was roaming around the house while we were sleeping. I’ve got the heebie-jeebies.”
I patted her on the shoulder. “I know, I feel violated too.”
“And we were just lying in our beds. Anything could have happened. What if it had been an axe murderer?”
I sat down across from her. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I wonder if we’re dealing with some kids playing pranks.”
“Kids?”
“Think about it. What have they been taking? Knickknacks, cookies, muffins. They’re making more of a mess than anything. It’s not exactly grand larceny, it’s more like … grand snackery.”
“That fancy pan of yours cost a lot more than some kitschy salt and pepper shakers.”
“True. But I doubt kids would know that. They probably just thought it was a run-of-the-mill saucepan.”
“Well, if I find the little heathens I’m going to take my flyswatter to their backsides.”
Georgina came flying into the room, her face pale as a sack of flour. “Call the cops! My diamond bracelet is missing!”
I eyed her speculatively. “Are you sure? Did you look everywhere?”
Georgina gave me an icy scowl. “Of course I’m sure, Poppy. Don’t you think I’d remember where I put a ten-thousand-dollar diamond tennis bracelet?”
“It’s just that the thief hasn’t taken anything of value before now, so it seems improbable that they passed up the television and my laptop and crept up to your room while you were sleeping and took your bracelet.”
Georgina huffed and looked at me like I had an alien sitting on my head. She opened her mouth for a quick retort. Thank heavens we were interrupted by a knock on the door.
“That must be the police.” I opened it to find Officer Legally Blonde, Miss Amber Fenton, on my front porch. Oh great. Amber and I go way back. Back to a few weeks ago when she tried to put me away for a murder I didn’t commit. Back even further to high school, where she and her evil cheerleader cohorts made my life miserable every day from homeroom to closing bell. Apparently, she hates me as much as I hate her, although my reasons are justifiable, and I find her reasons preposterous.
Amber walked in and pulled out her notebook. “McAllister. I’m not happy about this any more than you are, but you called to report a robbery and I’m the unlucky cop assigned to this case.”
Smitty arrived in his tired blue pickup and parked behind Amber’s cruiser. He hopped out and ran up the porch steps, jamming his hat down on his shiny head. “What’s going on? Is everyone okay?”
Georgina shot her arm out and pointed at Smitty. “There’s your thief! Check his pockets!”
“Woman! You’re batty! I’m not a thief, I’m a handyman.”
Amber raised both hands as if to push back the crazy. “Calm down, everyone. One at a time, tell me what’s going on.”
I led Amber to the kitchen with Aunt Ginny, Georgina, Smitty, and Figaro trailing behind us like a pathetic parade. I showed her the mess and told her about the missing copper saucepan.
Georgina pushed herself to the front of the line. “My diamond tennis bracelet is also missing and I bet this little Curly Stooge here took it.”
Smitty shot back, “I’ve been working in this house for over a month. Why would I steal something now?”
Georgina put her hands on her hips. “Probably because there was nothing worth stealing before.”
I was speechless for the second time that day. Figaro stopped mid-bath to glare at Georgina over his raised back foot. Aunt Ginny took a pill. Amber scribbled in her notebook.
“Are we sure about the diamond bracelet? Because that bumps this up to a whole new level, and I’d have to file a different report.”
We all turned eyes on Georgina.
“Well, I’ll double-check,” she said, “but it wasn’t where I left it inside the Bible in the nightstand.”
Amber made a note in her book. “Has anyone else been in the house unsupervised?”
Georgina was the first to answer. “The cleaning girl. I knew she looked shifty.”
“She did not look shifty, Georgina. Good Lord!”
“I’ll look into her, but it’s most likely a dead end. Your house was hit with the same MO as several of your neighbors. The perp breaks in in the middle of the night, eats some snacks that have been left out, takes something insignificant, and leaves without a trace. The newspaper is calling him the yummy bandit. Of course, the missing diamond bracelet does up the ante considerably. I see a security system panel by the front door. Is that working?”
Smitty shrugged. “It was working when I left yesterday. I tested it myself.”
“I set it last night when I went to bed,” I added.
Georgina took a step back and wouldn’t look anyone in the eye. She cleared her throat. “It was making a funny beeping noise. I thought Snotty here installed it wrong, so I turned it off.”
Smitty grunted.
Amber slapped her notebook shut. “I have everything I need here. I’ll ask the neighbors if anyone saw anything last night. If I learn anything new, I’ll let you know. “
I showed Officer Amber out, got Smitty to working on the security system, and Aunt Ginny and Figaro set up in the sunroom to watch The Price Is Right. Georgina went off to kick puppies or terrorize villagers—whatever it is that she does when she’s not making us miserable. I had to clean up the aftermath in the kitchen. Throughout the morning, neighbors popped in to check on us and bring us consolation cakes. I sent them to the sunroom, where Aunt Ginny could regale them with a play-by-play of our calamity.
It was early afternoon and I had to convince Momma to let me use her restaurant kitchen late in the day to make replacement muffins. With just under four hours until the guests arrived, the house had become a crime scene. We had no muffins,
no oven, and no cleaning service. We were, however, neck deep in hysteria.
Chapter 11
Two hours and one batch of Morning Glory Muffins later, I arrived home to find the Panjuans had arrived early, and Georgina was punishing them by making them sit in the parlor and wait. I apologized for Georgina, as much as one can do that, and introduced myself. I took their bags, and then showed them to their room for the weekend. Every guest that arrived got a tour of the house, including the breakfast area on the sun porch, overlooking Mrs. Pritchard’s award-winning rose garden next door, a map of the historical district, along with recommendations for restaurants and activity highlights like horse-drawn carriage tours and pottery classes.
They were all very excited to be here, and why wouldn’t they be—it was free—except for the Nelsons.
“There’s no Jacuzzi tub in the bathroom?”
“No, it’s an original antique claw-foot tub.”
Sniff. “Don’t you have DVD players in the rooms?”
“No, but there is so much to do outside with the boardwalk and the tours and the shopping.”
Sniff. “I thought you’d be closer to the beach, but it’s a block away. We have to cross the road.”
“Cape May doesn’t have any bed-and-breakfasts right on the beach. Everyone is on this side of Beach Avenue.”
Sniff.
The sniff of disdain was really starting to irk me. It was like that no matter what I showed them. Even the complimentary lemonade and blueberry madeleines couldn’t put a smile on their faces. Eventually I had to call it and left them to make their own plans for entertainment.
I’d been having a day. What I needed right then was a latte. I left Aunt Ginny in charge and called Sawyer, my best friend since the fifth grade, and asked her to meet me at Gia’s. I parked in the back at the service entrance, and went in through the kitchen. Gia was waiting on a couple of college kids and didn’t notice me, but Henry was sitting at the bar when I came through and he launched himself at me.
“Poppy!”
“Hey, sweets, how’s my favorite five-year-old?”
“Daddy says I can’t watch the jungle movie because I will have nightmares.”
“Well, your daddy is very smart, so I would listen to him.”
Henry’s face and shoulders drooped. I must have been his plan B.
“But, I know another jungle movie from a long time ago that I bet you would like.”
“Does it have monkeys in it?”
“Monkeys that sing and dance and get into all kinds of trouble.”
“I’m in!”
“Let’s make sure it’s okay with Daddy, and I’ll bring it over.”
“Okay!” Henry jumped down and did a couple of spins of celebration before Karla came in to take him home. “Bye, Poppy! See you tomorrow!”
“Bye, Henry.”
Gia finished with his customers and came over to flirt with me, I mean take my order. “Ciao, bella.” He took my hands in his and kissed them.
I tried unsuccessfully to stifle a giggle. “Hey you. I’m meeting Sawyer for coffee. I thought she would have been here by now.”
“Why don’t you go sit in the front and wait, and I’ll bring you a latte.”
“How much do I owe you?”
Gia rolled his eyes. “Your money is no good here. Now go sit.”
I waited for twenty minutes and Sawyer never showed. I finally got a text that said, Sorry. Something came up. Please forgive me.
The coffee shop quieted down to the lull between lunch and dinner, so Gia sat to join me. “What happened to Sawyer?”
I showed him the text.
“Hmm.”
“That’s not like her,” I said. “I wonder what’s going on.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.”
Gia and I sat and talked for a few minutes, enjoying each other’s company. I would have loved to stay longer, but I had to get back to the bed-and-breakfast in case I was needed to put out any fires. Fires that I suspected Georgina may have lit. I didn’t want to leave when he kissed me goodbye, but I managed with effort to peel myself away.
I returned home to find the complimentary bottle of brandy empty, the tray of cookies for afternoon tea had disappeared, and all the board games had been taken out of the library and left strewn about the front parlor as if Goldilocks had tried out each one and found none to her liking.
Sheesh! I was only gone an hour.
I made a couple of dinner reservations and booked a carriage tour, and chatted with guests as they came and went. But the height of excitement happened around eight p.m.
“I saw it! I saw it!” Mrs. Panjuan came running through the front door and down the foyer, her arms waving wildly around her head like beige tentacles. Her face flushed, she gasped for breath. “Just like you said, I saw her through the third-story window.”
Other guests came rushing in from their rocking chairs and down the stairs from their rooms.
Sniff. “What’s going on?” Mrs. Nelson held her complimentary robe tight around her middle.
Mrs. Panjuan barreled past all of us and up to Aunt Ginny. “I saw her, just like you said. Poor little Alice Mosby.”
I muttered under my breath to Aunt Ginny, “What. Did. You. Do?”
Aunt Ginny ignored me and patted Mrs. Panjuan’s hand in hers. “Did you now?”
Mrs. Panjuan bobbled her head around, joined now by Mr. Panjuan. “Right through the curtain, looking at me. She was wearing the blue dress. Poor little dear.”
Mr. Panjuan looked back toward the front door. “I couldn’t see her. All I saw was the curtain moving.”
Mrs. Panjuan patted Mr. Panjuan on the shoulder. “Let’s try again tomorrow morning. Maybe you’ll see her then.” She turned back to Aunt Ginny. “Could we take the Ghost Tour again tomorrow?”
Aunt Ginny cut her eyes ever so slyly my way. “Of course. You must be very fortunate. Not many people have spied her over the years. If you’re very quiet in your room, you might hear her singing ‘Frère Jacques’ to herself.”
“I’m going to go listen.” Mrs. Panjuan started up the stairs, gushing to her husband. “That was the best twenty dollars I’ve ever spent.”
Now all the guests wanted a chance to spot poor little Alice Mosby in the blue dress. So I spent the evening giving a tour that we didn’t offer, to see a ghost that we don’t have.
I was on the second floor giving the Nelsons their tour when I overheard Aunt Ginny making oooooooo sounds from the attic. Sigh. What have I gotten myself into?
Four tours and one scolding to a very sneaky senior citizen later, finally everyone was tucked in for the night. It had been a long day and I was ready for a hot bath. I was just about to set the alarm system when I was surprised to hear someone knocking at the door.
“Mr. Winston, hi.”
Mr. Winston was my neighbor from across the street. He was a little younger than Aunt Ginny, but more rumpled. The widower was sporting a bushy head of hair in the shade of Miss Clairol’s black licorice, and a bushy mustache in the shade of Mother Nature’s old-man glacier white. He reminded me of Pepé Le Pew, if Pepé wore wrinkled khakis and an Argyle sweater.
“Ho there, Poppy, how’s the remodel coming along?”
“It’s good. We’re making real progress.”
“An egret? Has it nested?”
“Um, no, Mr. Winston. IT’S GOING WELL.” Mr. Winston was so hard of hearing I could sometimes overhear his phone conversations through my bedroom window.
“It’s stuck in the well? I’d call animal control for that.”
I smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Winston. Would you like to come in?”
“No, no. I don’t want to impose. I was just wondering if Ginny was finished with my TV Guide?”
“Your TV Guide?”
“Yes, she borrowed it late last night.”
“Last night?”
“No, not a knife, it’s a magazine.”
“Are you sure she c
ame over?”
“Yes, she came over. We ate some fried chicken and she borrowed my TV Guide. Then she went home. All in all, I’d say a lovely visit.”
I was having trouble getting through to Mr. Winston, but I knew that Aunt Ginny had taken her meds and gone to bed right after dinner last night. She’d been exhausted. I had a sudden sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. “Mr. Winston.”
“Eh?”
I tapped on my wrist. “WHAT TIME WAS SHE THERE?”
He thought for a minute. “Oh, I guess about half past one. I was just up watching an old Dick Van Dyke movie and the light was on. It was a strange hour for visitin’, but Ginny’s always welcome.”
Oh. My. God.
“I’m sorry, I haven’t seen your TV Guide, but if I find it I’ll bring it over.”
Mr. Winston smiled and nodded the way people who can’t really hear you do when they’re faking it.
I waved goodbye and shut the door. My hands were shaking. I had only had this sense of dread a couple of times in my life. Once when we were about to get John’s diagnosis, once when I found the cheerleader’s body, and now this was the third. The house was at a dead calm, as if we were floating in the eye of a hurricane, but I felt like spiders were crawling up my arms.
Oh, Aunt Ginny. What have you done?
Chapter 12
I feared that Aunt Ginny may have developed a new nighttime routine. The only way to know for sure was to catch her in the act. I turned out all the lights and spun a wingback chair around in the parlor to face the front door. Then I waited. The first couple of hours dragged on with only the occasional squeak from the floorboards above me. I’d been up since six, I was exhausted, and I was struggling to keep my eyes open.
