Ghostly Paws (Mystic Notch Cozy Mystery Series) (9 page)

“How are you going to do that?” Pepper asked.

“Her motive could have been the bronzes. Of course, they are valuable, but I wonder if Bates bought them from Pete? Maybe they have special meaning to her. I suppose I could talk to Bates about that.”
 

I glanced sideways as we passed the library. Across the street, a side street opened up to the front of the church, the church that Ophelia had said she was lighting a candle at that morning. “I can’t really do too much about her motive right now, but I can check out her alibi.”

Pepper’s eyes followed my gaze. “At the church?”

“Yep. She said she was lighting a candle. Maybe Pastor Foley saw her there and can verify the time and how long she stayed. Maybe he saw where she went afterward.”

Pepper shrugged. “I guess it’s worth a try. I think you’re wasting your time, though, because I’m sure she didn’t do it. Maybe you should be checking out that black car Ophelia said she saw instead.”

“Maybe, but if I learned one thing as a crime journalist, it’s that you’ve got to cover all your bases and check out
all
the leads thoroughly.” I turned down the side street.

“You want some company?” Pepper called after me.

“No, thanks. This will only take a few minutes, then I’m going to grab Pandora from the shop and head home.”
 

“Okay, see you tomorrow.” Her words echoed down the street as I walked toward the church.

The First Hope church was one of the oldest buildings in Mystic Notch. I’d only been inside a handful of times. My family wasn’t active in organized religion and I realized as I approached the large cathedral style doors that I didn’t even know what kind of religion they practiced there.

Inside, the church was dimly lit. Rows of pews in dark oak lined the sides. The church was rather plain, painted in white. A large round stained glass window sat high in the gable end wall, casting shards of muted red and yellow light on the altar. Rows of large frosted glass rectangular windows with rounded tops lined the sides, but, surprisingly, didn’t let in a lot of light. It was as quiet as a library and smelled like exotic spices.

I walked toward the front, the sound of my footsteps on the shiny marble floor echoing hollowly. Was Pastor Foley here somewhere?
 

As I approached the altar, a rustling sound to the left caught my attention and I noticed a hallway led out of the chapel to the side stairs. I followed it to a small room. Inside, a tiny gray-haired lady rummaged in a box exploding with wadded paper. She pulled something out and straightened.
 

I cleared my throat.

She whirled around, startled, keeping the item she’d taken from the box behind her back.

I recognized her as Emma Potts.
 

“Sorry. I hope I didn’t startle you,” I said. “I’m looking for Pastor Foley.”

“He’s not here. I’m the church secretary, though. Can I help you?” She peered at me through the thick lenses of her eyeglasses. “I don’t believe I know you … are you a church member?”

I took a step into the room. “It’s me, Wilhelmina Chance.”

Her brows dipped in a V as she studied me. “Oh, that’s right. Anna’s granddaughter who went down south quite a few years ago.”

“That’s right. I inherited my grandmother’s bookstore, so I’m back to stay now.”

Emma pushed her glasses up on her nose with her free hand, keeping the hand with the object she’d retrieved from the box behind her back. “What can I do for you? Any relative of Anna’s is a friend of mine.”

“Well, I’m sure you heard about Lavinia Babbage…”

“Yes, that’s so sad. She was part of our flock, you know. Dedicated to helping others and always donated to our causes … which we are in dire need of money for.” Her face crumbled with sadness and she shook her head. I heard a jingling noise come from behind her. What the heck did she have back there and why was she hiding it?

I leaned to the left trying to see what was behind her and she leaned in the same direction to block me.
 

“So, what can I help you with?” she prompted.

I straightened back up. “Well, it’s just that I found her and I’d like to follow up on a few things. I feel a bit responsible for helping to bring her killer to justice.”

“Oh, well, that seems reasonable, but how can
I
help with that?”

“I was looking into who was in town that morning and someone saw Ophelia Withington here at the church.”

Emma’s back stiffened at the mention of Ophelia’s name, and her face took on a sour look.

I continued, “She said she was here and I was wondering if you saw her.”

“Here? At the church? Certainly not. Why, she’s done everything she can to…” Emma let her voice trail off and looked around as if to make sure no one had heard her.

“To what?” I prompted.

“Well, let’s just say she was no friend of the church,” Emma said primly. “Just what did she say she was doing here?”

“She said she was lighting a candle for Pete.”

Emma huffed. “Well, that right there proves she was lying.”

“Why’s that?”

“This church doesn’t have candles.”

Chapter Fourteen

Pandora was waiting for me in the bookshop window. I unlocked the door, cashed out the register and then locked up again. We trotted to the Jeep together.

I glanced back toward the church as I drove out of the parking lot.
 

“So, Ophelia lied about lighting a candle at the church … which makes me wonder what else she lied about,” I said out loud.

“Meow.” Pandora blinked at me, her luminescent eyes taking on more of a green tint in the afternoon light.

“But, then again, that also means that Lavinia lied about lighting a candle.”

Pandora licked her front paw, running it behind her ear a few times.

“Why would they both lie? Did the two of them share a secret? And, if so, did that have anything to do with Lavinia’s death?”

“Meoow!” A gray paw snaked out and tapped my arm.
 

“What?” I looked at Pandora who simply withdrew her paw, but not before snagging her claw on the fabric of my turtleneck.

“Ahh, geez.” I twisted my arm, looking at the pinprick-sized hole in my shirt. “Thanks a lot.”

“Mew.” She curled into a ball and purred noisily all the way home.

I pulled into the driveway, and instead of racing me to the back door, Pandora trotted off toward the path that led to Elspeth’s house.

“Hey, where are you going? Don’t you want supper?” I yelled after her.

She responded by flicking her tail at me and breaking into a run.

“Sheesh, I must be lonelier than I thought. Now I’m talking to the cat,” I said out loud to no one. Thoughts of Sheriff Striker invaded my head. He
was
kind of cute, but I wasn’t really sure I wanted to get involved with anyone right now. My marriage had ended badly only a few years ago and the thought of going through anything like that again didn’t appeal to me.
 

Of course, no one said I had to marry the guy
, I thought as I looked at the empty cat bowl. It sure did feel like the house was missing something without Pandora. My eye went to the pie plate and carrier I’d washed that morning. Might as well follow in Pandora’s paw steps and return it to Elspeth.
 

I shrugged on a sweater and boots, then headed out through the woods carrying the pie plate and carrier inside the bag Elspeth had sent them over in. It was less than a ten-minute walk to Elspeth’s and I could see her sitting on her porch as I approached the house. She was wrapped in a green crocheted shawl, her right arm held straight out and resting on the porch railing, a pile of birdseed in her open palm.

I watched in wonder as a gray tufted titmouse landed on her hand and pecked at the seeds. A brown chickadee bobbed his head up and down on the rose vine, twittering loudly as he waited for his turn at the buffet of seeds and nuts Elspeth offered.

The birds flew off as I approached the porch. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare away your friends.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I’ve been feeding them by hand for years now. They’ll be back tomorrow.” Elspeth stood and leaned over the railing, wiping her hands together and letting the seeds fall into the garden.

“I brought your pie plate back. The pie was delicious.” I set the bag down on the porch as Elspeth settled back into her wicker chair.
 

“Meow.” Pandora peeked out from behind Elspeth and I noticed the orange tiger cat sitting next to her. A Siamese lay at the foot of Elspeth’s chair, and a big jet-black tomcat sat off to the side.
 

“I figured you had run over here,” I said to Pandora who came over and rubbed herself against my ankles.

“Have a seat.” Elspeth gestured to a green wooden rocking chair. I sat and Pandora jumped into my lap.

“I was wondering what you know of Ophelia Withington.” Pandora dug her claws into my leg and the orange cat hissed.

“Shush, Tigger,” Elspeth said to the cat. “Ophelia isn’t a bad person … she just got a little lost when Pete died.”

“Someone saw her around the library at the time Lavinia was killed.” I looked at Elspeth. “Do you think she could have done it? Did Ophelia and Lavinia have some sort of grudge or secret?”

“Secret?” Why do you ask that?”

I chose my words carefully. I couldn’t tell Elspeth that Lavinia’s ghost had lied to me about lighting a candle. “Oh … just something I found out when I was asking around.”

“So, you
are
looking into Lavinia’s murder?” Elspeth nodded. “I figured you would.”

I didn’t have a good comeback for that so I just shrugged.

“I don’t think anyone killed Lavinia on purpose, especially not Ophelia. She does have her demons, but she’s no killer.” Elspeth glanced out into the woods and her eyes took on a faraway look. “Do you remember living in Mystic Notch as a little girl?”

I felt my lips curl in a smile. I had happy childhood memories. “Yes.”

“Didn’t it seem like a magical place?”

“Of course. I loved pretending there were magic fairies in the woods and time spent with my grandmother was always special. Those were happy times.” I remembered that time spent with my grandmother always involved lots of reading. We shared a love of books, which was probably why she’d left me the bookstore.
 

As a child, I’d read voraciously. Maybe I’d been a bit too much of a bookworm. I’d gotten so involved in some of the books I’d read that I could almost remember some of them coming true. It was probably just my memory fooling with me, but I swore that some of the objects from the books I’d read had appeared in my room.
 

Like that worn stuffed rabbit I’d had as a child and that favorite locket I had later on as a teen. It seemed like those had been identical to the ones in books I’d read, but I’d probably bought them in the store because they reminded me of the book—my selective memory just didn’t remember actually buying them.
 

“I bet you never felt that way down south.” Elspeth’s words pulled me away from my thoughts.

I shrugged, wondering what this had to do with Lavinia’s death. “Once you grow up, you lose that carefree, magical feeling you have when you’re a kid.”

“But, maybe you felt some of that magic when you came back here … or shortly before you made your decision to come back.”

My breath caught in my throat. Was Elspeth referring to my strange ability to see ghosts? Certainly, some might think that was magical although I thought it was just a pain in the butt. No, she was probably just referring to that ‘coming home’ feeling that I did experience when I finally made the decision to move back.

As if reading my thoughts, Elspeth said, “Well, it always feels like magic coming home. But Mystic Notch is special. Don’t you feel it?”

She stuck out her hand, waving it back and forth. To my astonishment, a bright yellow and black butterfly drifted over, landed on her pinkie finger and flexed its wings back and forth in the air. Wasn’t it too early in the season for butterflies?

I nodded and stroked Pandora’s silky fur, mesmerized by the slow flexing of the butterfly’s wings.

“Magic can be good,” Elspeth said, turning her keen blue eyes on me. “But just remember, it isn’t
always
good. There’s always been an age-old battle between good and evil. One must be careful not to let evil get the upper hand.”

She lifted her hand high in the air and the butterfly flew away. My head felt a little foggy and I took a deep breath. That was some strange stuff she was talking about.
 

My heart pinched with concern … I hoped Elspeth wasn’t getting dementia. She was quite old. I wrinkled my brow in thought—just how old was she? I realized I had no idea. She’d always been my grandmother’s neighbor, since I was little. She seemed old even then, but that was from the perspective of a child.
 

The wind chimes tinkled softly in the corner of the porch and I glanced over at them, watching their bronze tubes rub together in the breeze. Elspeth would remember the bronzes being donated to the library, so maybe she would know who might want to steal them?

“Do you remember anything about Idris Bates giving bronzes to the library back in the sixties?” I asked.

Elspeth shivered and I realized it was getting colder out. “I don’t remember anything about bronzes, but Idris Bates is one you should steer clear of.”
 

Elspeth pulled her shawl tighter and stood up. “I’m getting a bit chilled. Would you like to go inside?”

“No, I’d better get home and rustle up some dinner. I just wanted to return your pie plate and carrier.” I stood, dumping Pandora from my lap. She landed on the porch floor with a soft thud, then let out a muted “mew”, shook herself and trotted over to the stairs.
 

Elspeth opened the door while I started down the steps after Pandora.

I turned around, walking backwards for a few steps. “Thanks for the pie, it was delicious.”

“You’re welcome. Be careful on the way home.”

I turned around, waving to her over my shoulder, and followed Pandora into the woods.