Ghostly Paws (Mystic Notch Cozy Mystery Series) (16 page)

Pandora sniffed in my direction, made a sour face, then trotted over to the box of books where the smell must have been more to her liking, judging by the way her nose was getting familiar with it.

I took a bite of the muffin, savoring the contrast of the creamy melted cheese and the spicy hot jalapeño. The muffin was toasted perfectly to add just the right amount of crunch.
 

I thought about my clues and suspects as I ate, my spirits sinking as I realized I didn’t really have much of a list.
 

The killer had worn a cape or loose coat and had a big ring and gray hair.

A long, black car had been seen racing out of town that morning.

Valuable bronzes were in the library, so the motive could have been financial.
 

Who needed financial help? Maybe that was the best place to start. But the killer also had to have had means, motive and opportunity.

I hated to suspect my old friends, but Bing and Josiah both knew the value of those bronzes. Bing had said he didn’t remember they were in the library, but he had been acting suspicious and it was weird that I’d seen him driving so strangely when I was going to Barry’s. Once again, I wondered if Barry’s passing out had anything to do with this case.

Both Bing and Josiah had gray hair. Bing wore a large ring. I didn’t know if Josiah or Bing had a navy blue cape, but Bing certainly had lots of capes he used for his magician act.
 

I knew they were both in the area that morning because I’d seen them at my shop. Could one of them have killed Lavinia and then been so cold as to join the rest of us for coffee only an hour later?

I sighed in frustration. I hated the thought it could be one of them, but I had to explore all the angles.

“Mew.” Pandora must have really liked that box because she had hopped inside and was pawing around at the books.
 

“Hey, don’t mess those up.” I pulled the box closer to me and peeked inside. The books looked interesting and I needed something to take my mind off the murder investigation.

I reached in and pulled out a book, turning it to look at the cover.
Gone With the Wind
. I opened it eagerly looking for the publication information. Most copies of the book weren’t worth much, but if it was a first edition, it could be worth a lot. Just my luck, it wasn’t.
 

I put it on the table and reached back down into the box. Pandora tried to slow me down by jumping in and out of the box while I was trying to pick a book out.
 

I grabbed one book that was longer than the others were, making a face when I realized what it was. A photo album. They were virtually worthless—no one wanted to buy someone else’s photos, but they
were
kind of fun to look at.
 

Pandora must have liked it because she rubbed her face on the edge as I flipped it open. I turned to the first page and my heart skipped. Staring me in the face was a younger version of Idris Bates.

I flipped through the book, which must have been twenty years old. There were pictures of a smiling Felicity and Gardner Bates—Derek and Carson’s father—in happier times. There were pictures of Derek and Carson in their twenties, and a nice picture of Idris, Gardner, Carson and Derek all with their hands on a plaque. I squinted at the picture … it looked like a family crest. Something about the picture niggled at my mind, but before I had too much time to think about it, Pandora distracted me by jumping into my lap and pawing at the book.

“Hey, don’t rip the pages.” I pushed her away and she jumped back to the ground with an angry meow, then resumed her box sniffing routine. I remembered Derek had come by the bookstore looking for family scrapbooks and albums his mother might have sold by mistake at their yard sale—this must have been one of them.
 

I’d have to take a trip up to the Bates mansion and return it. Maybe this time and I could talk to Idris about the bronzes. My natural curiosity was piqued about Felicity and the big crash that had made Derek rush me out of the house. Maybe I could find out what, exactly, she’d been practicing.

I put the photo album on the table and looked through the rest of the box to see if there were any more Bates scrapbooks or albums. I didn’t find any, but I did see some interesting books that looked to be very early editions.
 

I picked one out and settled back in the chair, excitement causing my pulse to pick up speed. Early books were rare and could be worth a lot of money. I opened the book, carefully fingering the thin, yellowed pages. I could see foxing—brown stains of water damage—on the edges. That would affect the value, but the book had gorgeous, hand colored plates inside that would make up for it.

Pandora got bored with sniffing the box while I was studying the book. She trotted over to the living room and started to bat around one of her cat toys. The toy made a familiar jingling noise that stirred a memory, stealing my attention from the book I’d been studying.
 

I’d heard that noise somewhere else recently—where?

It came to me in a snap. Emma had been hiding something that made a similar noise behind her back at the church.
 

Emma had gray hair.
 

Emma had mentioned the church’s desperate need for money.

Lavinia had some sort of secret that had to do with the church.

“Could Emma be the killer?” I said out loud.

“Meow!” Pandora went crazy, throwing the ball up in the air and pouncing on it. It was almost as if she was trying to tell me something. Too bad I had no idea what that something was.

“It doesn’t seem like she would be the killer.”

“Mew.” Pandora stopped her antics and stared at me. I picked her up and cuddled her in my lap, stroking her soft fur.

“Little old ladies don’t clobber other little old ladies and push them down the stairs, do they?”

Pandora answered by purring and kneading her razor sharp claws into my arm.

I didn’t know what that meant, but I did know one thing … I was going to pay Emma a visit and find out why both Lavinia and Ophelia had lied about lighting candles at the church and what—if anything—that had to do with Lavinia’s murder.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The next morning, I contemplated my plan of attack over peanut butter toast. I wanted to visit Emma at the church and find out Lavinia’s secret and I also wanted to take the photo album to the Bates’ and, hopefully, to find out about the bronzes.

The problem was that I didn’t want to leave the shop closed too long. I’d been opening late, taking a long lunch and leaving early a lot lately and I didn’t want to put customers off. Lavinia might have been murdered, but I still had to earn a living.

I decided to visit the Bates’ during lunch and the church later in the afternoon. I didn’t usually get too many customers after three, so I’d close early and still be able to get to the church before Emma went home for the night.

I finished my toast, eyeing Pandora who was lounging lazily on the sofa in the living room. It was probably best for me to leave her here, since I’d be in and out of the shop all day.
 

I opened the drawer where I kept the catnip and Pandora immediately jerked her head up, her eyes slitting open and zoning in on the drawer. She leaped down from the couch and padded over.
 

I took a pinch of dried herbs out of the catnip bag and sprinkled it on the floor. She sniffed, then made a gleeful meow and threw herself on her back, rubbing and rolling in the pile of herbs.

I stuffed one of her favorite toys full of the catnip and threw it. She sprang up, pouncing sideways and sliding into the wall, then scurried over to the toy, grabbing it in her mouth, tossing it in the air and catching it.
 

Satisfied that she was happily distracted, I grabbed the Bates’ photo album and made a run for the Jeep.

***

I got to the bookstore late and the regulars were waiting for me outside. I let them in and we had the usual conversation. Bing stayed behind when Hattie, Cordelia and Josiah got up to leave.

“I was wondering if you’ve gotten any good books in.” Bing craned his neck to look behind the counter where I usually stacked the new books. “I’m starting up a collection of old leather-bounds. The older the better.”

“Well, I got some books from Barry and there were a few old ones in there.” I pointed toward the aisle where I kept the older books. “All my older ones would be over there.”

“Great.” Bing headed in that direction. He was an avid reader and liked to compile collections of antiques and then, eventually, sell them off. I guess it was an interesting way to make money out of a hobby.

The morning was filled with a whirlwind of customers and Bing must have left without a purchase as I never saw him again. I was distracted, waiting on customers and anxious to close up for lunch and get out to the Bates mansion.

I took the opportunity of the lunchtime lull to close up shop so I could take the photo album up to the Bates’. We didn’t have drive-thru’s in Mystic Notch, so I had to settle for eating a packet of cheese crackers that I picked up at the gas station.
 

I was just finishing the last one when I pulled into the Bates’ crushed gravel driveway. The crackers settled like lead in my stomach as I looked at the foreboding mansion, remembering how Derek had rushed me out the last time I was there.
 

Maybe I wouldn’t be welcome?

Glancing at the photo album on the seat beside me, I realized that was silly. Of course I would be welcome—Derek wanted the photo album. He’d made a special trip to my shop to ask about it.

Still, I felt the tingle of nerves bloom in my stomach as I walked up the steps. The four-story mansion loomed over me, sucking all the sunlight out of the day.
 

It was chilly and grew even cooler in the shadow of the house. A shiver tickled my spine as I pressed the fancy white porcelain doorbell.

I waited.

The sound of the bell echoed through the house, but no one came to the door. Where was the fancy butler?
 

Maybe I should give him more time. The house was gigantic and if he was at the other end it would take a while to get to the door.
 

I waited, tapping my fingertips on the soft leather of the photo album.
 

No one came.

Impatience spread through me. My leg started throbbing. Was no one home? I’d come all the way out here and I hoped it wasn’t a wasted trip.

I backed down the steps and looked up at the house. No signs of life. Sighing, I turned back toward the driveway when a movement over by the garage caught my eye.
 

Was someone there? I remembered Derek liked to tinker with cars. I took off in that direction.

The gravel crunched under my feet as I approached the garage, which was almost as big as my house. Made from the same granite block as the mansion, it had two stories and four garage bays. Three of them were closed, their green wooden doors blocking what was inside. The fourth stood open, revealing a white 1960s Triumph convertible.

I approached tentatively, wrinkling my nose at the smell of oil and metal. It was dark inside and I didn’t see a soul. What was that movement I’d seen?
 

“Hello?” I ventured.

Clunk.

“Ouch!”

Derek slid halfway out from under the Triumph on a dolly. Rubbing his head, he frowned at me from his upside down position, then recognition lit his face.

“Willa! What are you doing here?” He slid all the way out, stood up and brushed the dirt from his blue mechanic’s outfit.
 

“I thought you might like this.” I held out the photo album and he pulled a rag from his pocket, using it to wipe the grease off his hands before taking the album.

A smile formed on his lips as he leafed through the book. “Well, I’ll be…”

A noise came out of the dark recesses of the garage, startling both of us. Derek swung around toward it. Carson appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, a boyish grin on his face.
 

He casually crossed the other bays toward us, his hands in his pockets. My eyes had adjusted to the dark and I noticed a car occupied each of the bays. A Mini-Cooper in one, a pickup truck in another, and a long dark sedan, almost like a limousine in the last. I remembered seeing Felicity being chauffeured around by a driver and noticed some dark chauffeur’s coats and caps hanging on knobs at the other end of the garage. Must be nice to have money.

“Carson, jeez, do you have to sneak up on us like that?” Derek closed the album and glared at his brother. I wondered if they didn’t get along … they always seemed to before.

“Hi, Willa,” Carson said, ignoring his brother, his gaze falling on the photo album. “What’s that?”

“An old family photo album I came across in my travels. Thought you guys might want it.”

Carson came closer.
 

“Let’s see.” He held his hand out and practically had to wrestle it away from Derek. “I hope we didn’t rush you out of here the other night … mother can be a little overzealous in her … umm … experiments.
 

“What kind of experiments is she doing?” I felt my brows creep up my forehead. Experiments?

Derek shot a look at Carson, who was busy flipping the pages of the photo album.

“Oh, yoga and stuff … you know.” Derek waved a hand dismissively.

“These are great.” Carson held the book up with one hand spreading the pages apart to show the picture of the two brothers with their father and grandfather. “Look at this great picture of us with Dad and and Grandpa. Cripes, this album must be twenty-five years old.”
 

“Yes, well, we don’t need to keep Willa. I’m sure she’s busy.” Derek snatched the book away from Carson, who looked hurt.

“Where’d you get it?” Carson asked.

“It was in a box of books I acquired.”

“Were there any other books of ours in with it?” Carson nodded toward the house. “Mother sold off some of our collection of older books and we’d like to get them back.”