Pandora headed north. She knew exactly where to go because she'd seen the route in the orb that sat on the coffee table—the one that Willa still thought was a paperweight. Pandora chuckled, remembering how Willa would frown at the globe when it would present information as if she was wondering where the odd reflections were coming from. Her human still had a lot to learn.
She traveled silently through the darkness. Clouds covered the moon, but she didn't need its light—her nighttime vision was extraordinary. She probably should have told the others of her mission but she couldn't stand the thought of Otis getting the upper hand. He'd already tried to cast doubt on her story of the kitten and she wanted to check things out for herself and make sure the kitten did exist before she brought the others there.
It took almost forty minutes to reach her destination, but she didn't mind. She loved running free, working her muscles hard and feeling the fresh air on her whiskers. She was careful to keep to the edge of the woods. She didn't want to go too deep and risk a run-in with one of the many predators that roamed the mountains, nor did she want to be too close to the traffic. Not that there was much of that in the middle of the night in Mystic Notch.
Finally, the house she'd seen in the orb appeared. It was large—a cape with a garage attached to it by a breezeway in the middle. She heightened her senses as she approached the house, sniffing the breeze. Did she smell a cat? There was definitely something in the air … and it seemed to be coming from the breezeway.
Cautiously, she approached, sticking to the shadows of the bushes. She peered in through the screen, her heart jumping when a green eye blinked at her out of the darkness.
"Hello," it whispered. "Who are you?"
"I'm Pandora … are you the cat that survived the fire?"
"Yesssssss."
Pandora moved closer, pressing her face against the screen to get a better look at the cat who was crouched back in the corner behind a box. All she could see was one green eye.
"What is your name?" Pandora asked.
"They call me Hope," the cat replied. "I heard you would come, but we don't have much time."
Hope glanced around nervously which made Pandora feel nervous, especially after the cat said something so ominous as 'we don't have much time'.
Pandora cut to the chase. "I heard the story about the fire and I came to see you. I have some friends that might want you to join our group. Can you come out and join me?"
"I cannot leave, but I have something that might be of value to you."
Pandora was perplexed. "Can't leave? Why? Does your human not let you outside?"
"It's not so much that, it's more—"
"What is going on here?" a voice behind Pandora demanded. The voice itself was not particularly menacing, but Pandora felt a dark force coming from its direction. She turned and came face to face with the fluffiest, whitest Persian cat she'd ever seen.
"Who are you?" Pandora asked.
"I might ask the same. You are trespassing"
"Trespassing?" Pandora glanced at Hope, who had shrunk back into her corner.
"Who sent you?" The white cat studied her with eyes that were such a light amber color, they were almost orange. As Pandora stared at the eyes, they seemed to glow. Her fur stood on end.
She feigned ignorance. "What? I was just out for a walk and came across this house."
The amber eyes slitted. "I don't think so. You will go now—your power is weak. You won’t take her."
What the heck? Pandora had no idea what was going on, but as she met the Persian's gaze, she did feel like she was getting weak. It was almost as if the amber-eyed cat was draining her. Something dangling above the cat caught her eye. A spider.
The Persian saw her looking. "That trick won’t work."
"It's no trick." Pandora's eyes widened. The spider was big. And it was aiming for the Persian's head.
The spider touched down and the Persian's eyes flew upwards as it felt the creature on its head. One thin spider leg dangled down over the Persian's eye and the cat hissed, humping its back and jumping sideways. Then it leaped into the air, twisting its whole body as it came back down.
"Get it off, get it off!" the Persian yowled as it gave the spider the ride of its life.
"Pssst… hurry, we don't have much time. The only thing he fears is spiders, but he will cast it off soon," Hope said.
Pandora turned to the porch and saw Hope pushing something out of the corner with her paw. A purple Sharpie.
"What's that?"
"You will find out soon enough. Now you must go before Fluff regains himself. He is more powerful than you know."
Fluff? The menacing white cat was named Fluff? The name fit his appearance, but both were an odd disconnect to the evil power that Pandora could feel radiating from him. Clever, she thought. Who would suspect that evil could come in such a package?
"Hurry!" Hope insisted. Probably a good idea, Pandora was no match for Fluff. She'd have to come back with the others. Surely they would be strong enough to get the better of the persnickety Persian.
She turned back to Hope, looking down at the purple sharpie. She had no idea what it meant. Was she supposed to take it? How would she get it off the porch?
As if Hope knew what she was thinking, she came forward and put her paw on the pen, drawing it back toward the corner. But as she did, her face came closer to the screen and Pandora got a good look at her.
With heart-jolting clarity, Pandora realized why she'd only seen one green eye peering at her from the corner. Hope had a perfectly-shaped cat face, but the coloring was odd. It was divided evenly right down the center of her nose—one side was jet black with a green eye, the other side an orange tiger stripe with a blue eye.
Hope was a chimera—a type of cat that was sometimes referred to as a two-faced cat.
Chapter Thirteen
The next day, I had a hard time getting Pandora out of bed, which I thought was odd because we’d both gone to bed early. Surely she’d gotten enough sleep? Maybe she’d stayed up all night staring at me.
She barely ate breakfast and didn’t trot out to the car with me as usual. In fact, it seemed like she wanted me to go to the shop without her. She even protested when I carried her to the car. I’d have to watch her carefully. I hoped she wasn’t getting sick.
The regulars were too busy to do much more than drop off a coffee and exchange a short greeting. They all had things to do, which was fine by me. I had plenty of work to catch up on from closing early the night before.
Just as I got to work on the stack of books behind the counter that still had to be entered into my inventory, I was interrupted by giggling coming from the fashion aisle. I headed over to investigate.
“Now, Bobby, I think you would look great in one of those bow ties—and Frankie, have you considered wearing something other than that dark suit?” Paisley was standing with her hands on her hips surveying Robert Frost and Franklin Pierce. I’d never seen my two shop ghosts so enthralled with another spirit. Paisley really had them wrapped around her little finger.
“Ahem.” I announced my presence and they all looked at me.
“Willa, how nice to see you,” Franklin said as if they weren’t used to seeing me in my own shop.
“It’s nice to see you guys, too. I see you are getting your fill of fashion advice.” Robert and Franklin looked appropriately embarrassed, but I could tell they were smitten with Paisley.
She turned around and giggled. “It doesn’t hurt to be dressed nice, even if you are a ghost.” She ran her hands down her sides to indicate the fashionable sheath dress that she was wearing. I noticed it was different from what she had been wearing before. Did ghosts have a wardrobe somewhere with different outfits that they could change into?
Paisley’s expression turned serious. “I hope you’re here to tell me you’ve made some progress on my case. Even though it is fun hanging out here in the shop, I do need to get to the other side.”
“I have been maki
ng a little progress,” I said. “For example, I discovered that there’s another man in your life who may be a suspect.”
Her brow wrinkled. “Another man? What do you mean?”
“Opal said you’d been meeting with another man. You wouldn’t tell her who he was. That leads me to believe that he's someone who can’t be seen with you. Maybe someone who is married. Is there someone besides George you might have had incriminating pictures of?”
“No, there’s no one. No one that I would be blackmailing.” She turned around and looked out the window, wringing her hands and avoiding eye contact with me.
“Really? Are you sure?” Obviously, she was lying.
“Yes. Well, there was someone else.” Her voice cracked and Robert and Franklin’s faces creased in concern. “I mean, he never would have harmed me even though, I guess, I wasn’t that nice to him.”
Now we were getting somewhere. “Who? Who was it? This is a suspect I might have to track down.”
Paisley dissolved into tears. And I do mean dissolved. Her ghostly body literally faded away and she disintegrated into nothing as the tears ran down her cheeks.
"Well, now you’ve done it,” Robert said, giving me a disgusted look. “She’s gone off and we don’t know when we’ll be able to get her back.”
“Nice going, Willa.” Franklin glared at me, then he and Robert turned their backs in a huff and disappeared.
“Fine. I have plenty of work to do anyway.” I spun around in frustration. Paisley hadn’t been much help, but she had verified one thing. There was another man. Too bad she didn’t tell me who it was.
I was just slipping back behind the counter when something across the street caught my eye. A tall man was standing staring into Paisley’s shop. His posture was rigid, his hands clenched into fists. It was Neil Lane.
As I watched, he turned and looked directly at me. Or at least it seemed that way. His face was contorted. With guilt? Rage? Or something else? I didn’t have time to think because he started across the street, heading straight for Pepper’s shop.
My heart twisted with fear. He looked angry, like he was ready for a fight. I grabbed my keys, locked the shop and hurried over to Pepper’s, praying I wasn’t too late.
***
"I have a special blend just for you." Pepper's face was serenely pleasant as she reached under the counter and produced several packages of tea that she slipped into a white paper bag.
I walked down the aisle of her shop, ignoring the delicate pink and green bistro tables with their cheery, gingham seat cushions on either side of me as I advanced toward the counter, my eyes darting from Neil to Pepper and back again. Neil still looked angry, but Pepper didn't seem at all fazed.
"Hi, Willa." Pepper smiled at me, then turned back to Neil. "Neil, you remember Willa, don't you?"
Neil scowled down at me. "You're the nosy lady that was at my house. With her." He jerked his head toward Pepper.
"Well, I wouldn't use the word nosy, exactly."
Neil snatched the white bag from Pepper and tossed some money on the counter. "What do you two have to do with Paisley, anyway?"
I shrugged. "We're just fellow shop owners."
His brows mashed together. "It seems like you're looking into her murder." He leaned toward me in a menacing way and my heart beat faster. "I didn't know shop owners conducted investigations."
Pepper and I exchanged a glance.
"We're not really looking into it. We just want to make sure it's safe here on Main Street. There could be an arsonist on the loose and our shops could be in danger. We can't depend on the police to protect us. Do you know anything that would be helpful?" Pepper asked sweetly.
Neil's face turned red and he straightened abruptly. "No. And if you people are smart, you'll leave it alone." And with that, he turned and stormed out of the shop.
I turned back to Pepper. "What was that all about? Did he come in for tea?"
Pepper smiled victoriously and smoothed her pink-flowered apron. "Yes. So, you see, the tea I brought him the other day must be working. He said he drank it and it was so good he craved more."
My brows tugged together as I watched Neil stomp down Main Street toward his car. I remembered what Josiah had said about the noise it made and how Myrna had described hearing those same noises the morning of the fire. "Working, schmirking. I thought it was supposed to make him nice. He didn't seem very nice."
Pepper waved her hand dismissively. "I gave him a mild version before. This new one is much more potent. Just the fact that he came in and asked for the tea proves that it's working. Can't you see that?"
Not really. I could tell Pepper wouldn't be swayed, though, so I decided not to pursue it.
Outside, I could see Neil had gotten into his car. I listened for the sound of him starting it up. Sure enough, it made choking and gasping noises, just like Josiah had said.
I nodded my head toward the window. "Myrna heard a car making noises similar to Neil's the morning of the fire and I saw him on the street staring into Paisley's shop just now. Did he say why he was doing that?"
"Not a thing." Pepper started loading tea cakes onto a three-tiered platter. My stomach rumbled. She placed a piece of pink cake with white frosting on a dainty, gold-rimmed plate which she shoved across the counter at me. The smell of sugar and vanilla wafted up to my nose.
"Tea?" Noticing my hesitation, she added, "It goes great with the cake."
"Okay, but just a regular tea. Not one of your special concoctions."
Pepper laughed. "I promise."
I bit into the cake. It was sweet enough to give me an instant cavity, but that didn't stop me from eating the whole thing. The creamy frosting melted on my tongue.
"So, what do you think he was doing there?" I asked. "They say the killer always comes back to the scene of the crime."
Pepper made a face. "You don't really think he's the killer, do you? It's a pretty flimsy motive. What kind of murderer runs around town buying tea?"
I licked frosting off my fingertips. "I know, but he is acting so confrontational. And the way he was staring into her shop—maybe he was trying to see inside to make sure he didn't leave any evidence."
"Maybe. But it sounds like we have some other suspects, too. Like George and Paisley's brother and, even though I hate to say it, Maisie. Not to mention her other boyfriend. Did you find out anything about him from Paisley?"
I shook my head. "She did verify there was another man, but she wouldn't tell me who it was."
Pepper brought a cobalt and gold china teacup up to her lips and took a thoughtful sip. "That's too bad that she wouldn't tell you. But, if she had incriminating pictures of this person, I know where we might be able to find them as well as other clues that might lead to the killer."
I knew exactly where she meant. "Paisley's house."
***
We agreed to close our shops promptly at five and meet at my Jeep. We debated going over under the cover of darkness, but we both felt kind of creeped-out being in a dead person’s house in the dark. Plus, we weren’t really doing anything wrong that we should be hiding. We knew where the key was and that was kind of like implied permission.
I spent the rest of the day in my shop, waiting on customers and hoping that Paisley would appear again to clue me in on who the other man was. When there was a lull in customer traffic, I found myself standing in front of the window looking into Paisley’s shop. Could there still be a clue in there?
As I mulled that over, I saw a figure appear in the alley where I’d found the charm. At least I thought I did. He was tall and lanky, like Neil Lane, but he ducked back into the alley before I could tell for sure. Had Neil come back to take away some evidence the police didn’t find in the alley? I’d looked pretty good myself and was sure there was nothing there. Just that charm … but what would Neil be doing with a charm?
As the day wore on, Pandora recovered from her earlier listlessness and seemed anxious to get outside. Needless to say, she was no
t pleased when she realized I was locking her in the shop to go on my mission to Paisley’s. I ended up having to throw her catnip spider into the front while I snuck out the back. She’d probably punish me by clawing the sides of my sofa while I was gone.
Paisley had rented a small house in a sparsely populated neighborhood. I didn’t know if the cops had been in there. I’d tried to get the information from Striker, but he was as tight-lipped as ever. I knew there’d be no point in asking Gus even though I did have something on her now. I couldn’t help but smile as I thought up ways I could capitalize on my knowledge of her little hobby.
Opal had told us that Paisley kept the spare key under a flowerpot on the back porch, so we parked the car and headed out back.
The backyard was muddy from a recent rain storm and I saw footprints leading up to the porch. My nerves tingled.
“Has someone been here recently?” I pointed to the prints.
Pepper chewed her bottom lip as she looked down at them. “Maybe the police?”
Or the killer. “Yeah, it was probably them.”
Pepper turned over a flowerpot filled with dry flowers that looked like they used to be marigolds. My heart pinched thinking about how the flowers' death was a direct result of Paisley’s. No one was here to water them anymore.
Pepper picked the shiny, gold key up from underneath and we trotted out front.
At the front door, Pepper hesitated. “Are you sure we should do this?”
I shrugged. “I guess. It’s the only way we have to find more clues.”
“But surely the police have looked in here?”
“They might not be looking for the same clues we are.”
“Good point.” Pepper slid the key into the lock and we heard it click into place. She turned the knob and we stepped inside.
Just as we stepped inside, a noise from the back of the house froze me in my tracks. “What was that? Did you hear that?”
Pepper frowned. “No, I didn’t hear anything. This feels kind of creepy, though. Maybe you are imagining it.”
A Mew to a Kill Page 10
