A Zen For Murder (Mooseamuck Island Cozy Mystery Series Book 1) (10 page)

Claire joined him again, her face grim.

“Did he tell you anything of interest?” Dom asked.

“He was reluctant to divulge too much information, but I did manage to get one clue about the footprint out of him. I had to promise to bake him an apple pie, though.”

“Oh? What was the clue?” Dom’s eyebrows started to tingle, and he unconsciously smoothed them with his fingertips.

“They couldn’t make out the model of shoe, but they did find some interesting tiny pieces of shell in the impression. Jonah crab shell.”

Dom’s high hopes deflated, and his eyebrows stopped tingling. “Crab shell? I hardly think that will help narrow things down. This place is loaded with crabs. That’s why it’s called Crab Cove.”

“Not Jonah crabs. Those are only found in one remote place on the island. It’s off the beaten path so hardly anyone ever goes there, but it has a nice view of the lighthouse and I know one person who manages a visit at least once a week.”

“Oh, really?” The tingling started up again. Dom didn’t need to ask who the person was, but he did anyway. “Who?”

“Norma.”

Chapter Thirteen

Claire thought about Zoila’s murder as she pinched the spent blooms from the purple petunia that hung from her back porch. The sun was just starting to set behind her as she took her last look of the day out over the Atlantic. It was unusually calm, which Claire thought was funny given the hectic events on the island.

Her thoughts turned to the information Robby had given her and her gut tightened. Just because there were crab shells in the shoe imprint
and
Norma was known to go to that stretch of the island didn’t mean she was the killer. Lots of people wore work boots with round toes. And lots of people could have gone there, though Claire knew most people didn't bother because the beach was all rocky and there were nicer places that were easier to get to.
 

Norma had implied someone else might want to silence Zoila … but who? And why wouldn’t Norma tell them? It didn’t make sense. Norma knew something, and the fact that she wouldn’t tell anyone didn’t bode well for her.

“Meow.”
 

Claire looked down to see the stray Maine Coon looking up at her with curious, green eyes. The cat had something in its mouth and Claire bent down to see what it was.

“Hi, there.” Claire rubbed between the cat’s ears and was rewarded with a loud purring. The cat spit out the object—a shiny green leaf. Claire picked it up and then turned it over curiously.
 

“Where’d you get this?” she wondered. It was a smooth, winterberry holly leaf. The plant was very rare in this part of Maine. In fact, Claire knew of only one place that it grew. “Have you been to Anna’s garden?”

“
Meow
.”

Claire stood with the leaf still in her hand. Anna Campbell was an avid gardener, just like Claire—at least she had been, before cancer made her so weak she couldn’t do anything but lay in bed. Thinking of Anna, who lay in hospice on the mainland with only a few weeks—maybe even days—left to live, reminded her of Ben and her heart clenched for him.

She thought about how Ben’s name kept coming up in the investigation. That had to be a coincidence—Claire was sure sweet, simple Ben couldn’t be involved.
 

Dom had said that Sarah and Shane acted strange when he asked them about Ben, and Kenneth had seen Ben speeding away from Zoila’s. She rubbed the smooth leaf in between her thumb and forefinger, her forehead creasing with worry. Ben was under a lot of pressure, with his mother being sick and off the island. That pressure could make him act strangely … but murder? No. Claire didn’t think so. He would have no reason to kill Zoila.

Claire knew Anna and Norma were best friends. In fact, Norma had promised Anna she would look after Ben once Anna was gone. Though Ben was a grown man in his fifties and could function on his own for the most part, his simple outlook and limited capabilities sometimes made people think they could take advantage of him. Norma would protect him from that … but was she protecting him now?
 

There had to be more to it. Something was going on, but Claire was sure neither Norma nor Ben had anything to do with Zoila’s death. She needed to find out who was up at the zen garden that morning, and it looked like her best bet was to talk to some of the kids around town and see if they’d noticed anyone. She made a mental note to seek them out before she met Dom at
Chowders
in the morning.

“
Meow!
”
 

Claire looked down to see the cat sitting at her door expectantly.
 

“Oh, I see. You’re looking for your saucer of milk, are you?”

The cat flicked its ears and looked from Claire to the door, and back to Claire.

Claire laughed. “Okay, you win.”

She went inside and poured some milk into a small bowl, which she left outside for the cat to drink at her leisure. She considered inviting the cat inside, but she never seemed to want to come in. Maybe when the weather got colder she would accept the invitation. It might be nice to have another living creature in the house to snuggle with on the long winter nights.

Claire snapped on the light beside her favorite oversized chair that sat next to the big stone fireplace in the sitting room of her cottage. It was too warm for a fire, but sitting next to the hearth made her feel cozy.
 

She picked up the crossword puzzle she’d been working on and settled into the chair, grabbing her half-moon reading glasses from the side-table. Then she opened the drawer of the table and peeked inside hopefully. She was in luck—a tiny piece of dark chocolate sat inside the drawer, right where she’d hidden it. She picked the piece out and unwrapped it, savoring the slightly bitter taste of the chocolate. It was an indulgence she allowed herself because of the many health benefits, and she often placed small squares of chocolate in various places around the house, usually forgetting just where she'd put them. It was always a nice surprise to find one.

She finished the chocolate and turned her attention to the crossword. Just a few more words and it would be complete. Then she would turn in early … she needed to get a head start tomorrow if she wanted to get ahead of Zambuco before he came to the wrong conclusion.

***

Further up Israel Head Hill, Dom sat in his kitchen, a plate of ravioli on the table in front of him. He’d tried his hand at making them … rolling out the pasta dough and placing a spoonful of ricotta filling inside. They weren’t as good as his Nonna’s or Sophia’s, but they were okay.
 

He ate carefully, cutting each ravioli exactly in half, and eating one half then the next while he reflected on the events of the day. Working with Claire might not be so bad. Sure, she used emotion too much, but he had to admit getting an insight into how people thought and what motivated them to act a certain way could be fascinating. And she did come in handy given her connection to the police, even though Robby hadn’t given them too many good clues.

He thought about the one clue they did get—the crab shells found in the footprint impression. Something didn’t sit right with that. How could they know for sure who had been to that part of the island? Dom wasn’t sure if the footprint was too smudged to be able to pinpoint the exact size and model of shoe. He’d have to wait to find out.

A chattering from the birdcage caught Dom’s attention and he looked up to see Romeo preening Juliet’s aqua and white feathers. A feeling of sadness descended on him—the birds reminded him of what he’d lost when Sophia died.
 

He balanced the last piece of ravioli on his fork and brought it to his mouth. No sense in looking back. Sophia was gone now, and he’d better make the best of the rest of his life, just like he’d promised her he would. And besides, he did have something to look forward to—Zoila’s murder case. For the first time in years, he felt hopeful again, as if a dark shroud was being lifted and he could finally see clearly. He just hoped he was up for the task.

His eyebrows tingled, and he smoothed them out as he thought about the many questions yet to be answered.

What was Norma hiding?

Why had Sarah and Shane acted so strangely?

Was Ben involved somehow?

Most importantly, what had Zoila discovered that someone wanted so desperately to keep quiet that they killed her?

Another disturbing thought poked into Dom’s mind—Zoila might have told someone what she’d discovered and, if that was the case, the killer’s work might not yet be done.

Romeo scuttled over to the edge of his cage and watched Dom intently.

“Are you looking for a treat?” Dom picked a small piece of spinach out of his salad bowl, taking care to make sure it had no dressing on it, and held it up to the cage.
 

Romeo looked sideways at the spinach with his bright, black eyes, and then reached over with his tiny beak and pulled the leaf through the cage. He chewed it quickly, then flew to the side of the cage, clinging onto the grates and looking right at Dom.

“
Burber Peepon
,” he squawked.

Dom smiled. Romeo’s words were getting easier for him to understand, but he wasn’t sure if it was because the bird was talking better or his ear was becoming more accustomed to the sounds. Either way, the bird had an uncanny way of saying the right word at the right time.
 

“That’s right, my little friend.” Dom fed another piece of spinach to the bird. “We have yet to find the murder weapon … and when we do, will it lead us to the murderer?”

Chapter Fourteen

Chowders
was abuzz with locals finishing up their breakfast when Claire slipped into the seat across the Formica table from Jane the next morning.

“Morning.” Jane slid a tea cup in front of Claire. “Where have you been?”

“I was talking to some of the island kids.” Claire glanced down the table and nodded at Dom, who tipped his coffee cup toward her in acknowledgment.

Beside her, Alice’s knitting needles stopped clacking. “About the murder?” Did one of them see something?”

“Unfortunately, no.” Claire shrugged and glanced at Dom. “Just Ben joyriding down the trails.”

“Joy riding?” Mae’s brows puckered together. “Ben’s usually so careful. I haven’t known him to go fast down those trails. It’s dangerous.”

“Maybe he’s getting reckless with his worry for Anna,” Tom suggested.

The table fell silent as they all thought about Anna, and how her death would affect Ben.

“I guess it’s up to us to look after Ben now,” Alice said. “Along with Norma, of course.”

“I heard Zambuco searched Norma’s place last night,” Mae added.

Claire’s heart pinched. “Searched it? For what?”

Mae shrugged. “Evidence, I guess. Maybe the murder weapon. I heard they haven’t found that yet.”

Tom Landry frowned at Mae. “Surely, you don’t think Norma did it, do you?”

“Of course not.” Mae gave him a disgusted glare, then turned to Dom and Claire. “What do you guys think? You
are
investigating it, aren’t you?”

Claire looked at Dom. What
did
they think? Usually, they wouldn’t discuss clues with anyone during an ongoing investigation, but this one was different. They weren’t officially working with the police. Still, she didn’t know how much they should share. Then again, they didn’t have much information to share, anyway.

Alice’s knitting needles clacked away as she looked at them slyly. “I heard from Velma that you two had teamed up, just like when you used to work together before.”

“We have, but we really don’t know much,” Claire sighed.

“Well, who are your suspects?” Mae looked from Dom to Claire expectantly.

Dom cleared his throat. “We don’t actually have any suspects. We’ve been trying to reconstruct the events of the day. Do any of you happen to know where Zoila went or who she met with that morning or the day before?”

Mae, Tom, Jane and Alice looked at each other and shrugged.
 

“Well, both Kenneth and Shane said they were at Zoila’s the day before yesterday.” Mae tilted her head toward the counter to jog their memories of the previous days conversation.

“And we know Norma and Zoila had … umm … words … yesterday morning,” Tom added.

“Other than that, I don’t know Zoila’s schedule. Did you guys get a copy of her appointment book?” Mae asked.

“Unfortunately, only the police are privy to that information,” Claire answered.
 

“Then seems to be you ought to be out following that detective Zambuco around and seeing who he talks to. He’s bound to be talking to the people in that book. Those would be his suspects,” Mae said.

“Right.” Claire bristled with annoyance. She didn’t need Mae Biddeford telling her how to investigate a murder. “We talked to Norma right after Zambuco yesterday to try to find out his line of reasoning.”

“And?” Jane’s brows rose over her steaming cup of chai tea.

“Norma is being very tight-lipped,” Claire said. “It’s hard to say what Zambuco was thinking. But we should get going and see what he’s up to today.”

Claire stood and fished in her pocket for some money. Dom followed suit.