Leighann Dobbs - Mystic Notch 02 - A Spirited Tail (14 page)

Ranger hung his head and Pandora felt that annoying tug at her heart again. She turned away, admonishing herself for getting all sappy and sentimental and wondering if it was because she’d been hanging around with humans too much. She hoped it was only temporary—the sooner she got Ranger out of Willa’s house the better.

“That’s right.” Otis looked down at them from his high perch with superiority.” Van Dorn died long ago. But he had the information well hidden. I’m a bit disappointed it’s still in the house—he was supposed to make provisions for it after his death.”

Pandora narrowed her eyes at him. “How do you know?”

Otis’s eyes got misty and his whiskers drooped. “I used to know his cat. Sadly, she only had nine lives—much less than we do—and she’s parted the curtain now.” 

Pandora almost felt sorry for him … almost. 

“I felt something in there.” Pandora said. “This information must still be in the house … and now that the house is being sold …”

“We must go and remove that information from the house and put it in a secure spot!” Inkspot declared. “Do you know where it is, Otis?”

Otis shook his head. 

“We’ll have to get into the house and find it.” Shasha’s luminous, blue eyes turned toward Ranger. “Do you know any easy access routes?”

Ranger’s face crumbled. He dearly wanted to be helpful, but he didn’t know how to get into the house. “I never went in.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Pandora said. “When I was there, I saw many ways in … but the house is big, It could take days to find this thing and it may be crawling with police now.”

“Then we need to get in and out quickly,” Inkspot rumbled.

Kelley groomed the long, white fur on her chest. “It would help if we knew exactly where this information was stored.”

“Maybe I can help,” Pandora said hopefully. “I could sense it was in there, so maybe I can hone in on its location.”

Otis snorted from above where he was hunkered down, his front paws tucked under his chest. “Now, that would be quite a feat.”

Ranger let out a low growl at the offensive Otis and Pandora felt a swell of warmth in her chest. 

Was the dog coming to her defense? 

It had been a long time since another furry creature had stuck up for her—not since she was a tiny kit with litter-mates to defend her. She stuck her paw out to shush him. She didn’t want to see a fight break out between Ranger and Otis. Not that she really cared that much about either of them, or so she told herself. She just didn’t want to clean up the mess.

Truffles, the small, black and orange tortoiseshell, trotted into the center, her greenish-yellow eyes glowing in the slit of moonlight that filtered in from the door Pandora had left ajar. “Finding its location may be easier than we thought … I have a friend that has knowledge of the goings on there.”

Inkspot turned his green eyes on the petite feline. “A friend? One of the feral cats?” 

The feral cats were a colony of wild cats that lived in Mystic Notch. It was rumored that they descended from an ancient clan. Most of them answered to no human, but even so, the humans helped provide shelter and food for them. Pandora felt a swell of pride knowing that her human, Willa, was one of those.

“No, but I can ask them, too. They have eyes and ears everywhere,” Truffles answered. “This cat has been with the people who served the Van Dorn family for decades. She might know where this information is kept.”

“Very well, then, find out what she knows.” Inkspot nodded at Truffles, then turned to address the rest of the cats. “In the meantime, let us prepare. We will voyage to the Van Dorn mansion under the cover of darkness tomorrow night.”

Chapter Thirteen

I had just finished looking Gladys Primble up on the internet when Bing, Hattie, Cordelia and Josiah filed through the door with their Styrofoam to-go cups from
The Mystic Cafe
in hand.

“Did you hear the news?” Cordelia’s eyes twinkled as she handed me a coffee.

I raised my brows. “About?”

“Why Steve Van Dorn, of course,” Hattie said. “Turns out I was right.”

Cordelia nodded in agreement. “It almost always comes down to money.”

“Meow!” Pandora frowned up at Cordelia and Hattie.

“Don’t mind her,” I said. “She’s been acting strange lately. I think she’s unsettled because of Ranger.”

Pandora scowled at me, then leapt onto the counter and batted my purple Sharpie around like a hockey player until it rolled off onto the ground. I bent to pick it up. It reminded me of the Copic marker that Steve had—the one that had provided the clue to his guilt.

Had Pandora been trying to give me a hint all this time?

I scratched her behind the ear. “It’s okay, Pandora, we already figured it out.”

“Figured what out?” Bing scratched his chin. 

“Oh, nothing. Just cat talk.”

“I don’t know.” Josiah had plunked down in one of the chairs and held his coffee cup on his knee. “It seems like an awfully big risk for money, especially when the house and contents are already worth a lot.”

The door opened and tiny, gray-haired Emma Potts came in.  The elderly woman was the church secretary, but also held a much more important position. She was the one who coordinated the feral cat housing and feeding in Mystic Notch. 

I’d been introduced to the gangs of wild cats earlier in the summer and found them charming. Unfortunately, there were many others in town who didn’t agree and wanted to stamp them out, no matter how inhumane the method.  Needless to say, Emma kept the location of the cattery secret and it was known only to the few volunteers, myself included, who came out to feed and check on the cats.

“Hi, Emma.” Cordelia waved from her position on the purple sofa. “Did you hear the big news about Bruce?”

“Yes, so terrible, and right here in town.” Emma shivered. “It’s hard to imagine a killer lurks among us.”

“Not anymore,” Josiah said. “Steve Van Dorn’s been arrested for it.”

Emma’s mouth flew open, then snapped shut. “Steve Van Dorn!  No.  I don’t believe it.”

My brows puckered together in confusion. Bing, Cordelia, Hattie and Josiah mirrored my look. How Did Emma know Steve?  Of anyone, Steve Van Dorn would be the most believable, because he was a stranger and obviously benefitting financially, not to mention he had the pen that wrote on Bruce’s forehead.

“Why is that?” Josiah asked.

“I … well …” Emma looked from me to Hattie to Josiah. “It’s just that he seems so nice and he’s a friend of … well … I just don’t know.”

And with that she turned and rushed out of the store.

“Well, I’ll be.” Hattie craned her neck to stare at Emma rushing down the sidewalk. “What do you think that was all about?”

“I don’t know.” My eyes followed Hattie’s. Did Emma know something about the Van Dorns?  Maybe she had some information about Charles. She would be about the same age as him. I made a mental note to stop by the cattery later on … I had some cat food donations to drop off anyway.

“Well, I guess that’s one mystery solved,” Bing said. “But now I wonder what will happen to the house and the belongings.”

“Good question.” I hadn’t thought about that. I’d spent several nights cataloguing that library and with Steve in jail, that effort would be wasted. Not to mention that I might not be allowed back into the house, and I still had questions for Charles. 

“Did you ever find that journal?” Bing’s blue eyes drilled into mine and I got the impression the journal had something more important in it than just some instructions for magic tricks.

“No, but it sure seems to be popular. That must be a really great magic trick in there.” 

Bing’s eyes sharpened. “Who else was looking for it?”

“Claire somebody,” I leaned over the counter, grabbed the card I’d stuck under the corner of the cash register and glanced at it before handing it to Bing. “Claire Smith-Baker.”

Bing frowned at the card. “I’ve never heard of her.”

“She came in with Felicity.”

Bing’s eyes widened. “Felicity Bates? If she’s hanging around with the Bates’ I certainly hope you won’t give the journals to her.”

“Why not?”

“Well, you know …they’re bad news. It wouldn’t be in the best interest of … anyone.” Bing gave me a look as if I should know what he was talking about. I didn’t. My gut told me he was right, I just didn’t know
why
.  Anyway, I had no intention of giving the journal to anyone who hung around with Felicity.

“I don’t even know if I’ll be going back there,” I said. “If Steve goes to jail, then I’m not sure what will happen to the property.”

“I wonder if it will be closed up for another fifty years,” Cordelia mused.

I wondered that, too. And if so, would Charles’ ghost leave me alone or, now that he had my attention, would he follow me around until I found his killer? I figured it was in my best interest to find out as much as I could about whom he hung around with back then. “Bing, did you hang around with Charles back in the day?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say I hung around with him. I did a lot of traveling back then so I wasn’t in town much. But, of course, I knew him since we were in similar businesses.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “Why do you ask?”

I shrugged, trying to seem like it wasn’t that big of a deal. “Oh, no reason. I’m just curious about the man. He had an interesting taste in books.”

“Well, if you really want to know about him, you should ask Elspeth,” Hattie said.

“Yes, she was quite friendly with that crowd back then, as I recall.” Cordelia added.

“Oh, I was planning on checking in with her anyway.”

“Well, don’t go today.” Hattie chugged the rest of her coffee and stood. “She’s going to Noquitt, Maine, to visit some great grand-nieces of hers. Won’t be back ‘til tomorrow.”

“I didn’t know she had family in Maine,” I said.

“Yes, I guess they are distant relatives, but Elspeth said they had some sort of family tragedy … an aunt died or something and she wanted to go back and make sure the girls were okay. Something about passing on some family traditions or knowledge.”

“Well, I guess this whole thing with Steve Van Dorn is going to be good for that writer.” I headed behind the counter, hoping the four of them would get the hint. I needed to get some work done if I was going to close up shop to visit Gladys Primble.

“Writer?” Hattie and Cordelia wrinkled their gray brows at me as they brushed cat hair from their matching, purple polyester pantsuits. They usually knew everything that was going on in town and I was surprised they didn’t know a writer was visiting.

“Yeah, I guess he’s writing a book on the Van Dorn curse. He’s the son of some journalist who used to write publicity stuff for Charles Van Dorn.”

“Oh, that must be the stranger staying out at the Moonlight Motel.” Josiah slid his eyes over to Hattie and Cordelia, a sly, satisfied look on his face. 

As former postmaster, he still kept in touch with all the goings-on in town and was almost as knowledgeable as Hattie and Cordelia. Sometimes, it even seemed like they had an ongoing contest to see who could be the first one to find out the new gossip.

Hattie frowned at Josiah. “I didn’t hear about any stranger at the motel. Did you, sister?”

Cordelia shook her head, eyeing Josiah suspiciously. “No.”

“Yep, it’s true. I was down there just last night with Vern Bosch and Frank Delaney. We have a standing poker game with Mabel and Bert. Anyway, they mentioned this stranger who didn’t follow the typical tourist pattern—you know, the type that goes out sightseeing and hiking.  This guy just mostly stays in his room. I bet that’s your writer guy.”

Bing chuckled at the look on Cordelia and Hattie’s face. “Looks like the Mystic Notch grapevine has a break in it.”

Hattie and Cordelia exchanged a glance. 

“Well, I guess we need to get down to the beauty salon and find out where the problem is.” The two women power walked to the door while Bing and Josiah stood up. 

“I hope you get back in that library, Willa. I sure would like to get that journal … and I hope you’ll steer clear of this Claire person,” Bing said.

“I gotta mosey along, too.” Josiah rubbed his chin. “You know, there’s somethin’ bothers me about this Steve Van Dorn guy being the killer. I mean, it’s an awful big risk and he was already going to be wealthy even without this new interest in the curse. Just seems like an unnecessary risk to take.” 

Pandora flicked a few more pens off the counter and I made a mental note to get a new penholder as I watched the four of them leave. A hollow feeling settled on my stomach. Something bothered me about Steve killing Bruce, too. I glanced down at Ranger who was sleeping soundly next to the couch. I remembered how protective he’d been of Bruce’s body when the police had arrived. 

He hadn’t growled at me and had even let me approach, but I assumed that was because he sensed I was an animal lover and meant no harm.  It was only when the police wanted to mess around with the body that he got protective. Which made me wonder, if he got that protective over the police touching the body, why hadn’t he attacked Steve when he’d killed his master?

***

Gladys Primble lived in a modest house off Forest Road. I didn’t know what to expect as I pulled into her driveway, but I certainly wasn’t expecting to see the seventy-year-old woman chopping a pile of wood in the back yard.  

I approach warily, watching her muscled arms flex under her plain, gray tee shirt. She was pretty buff for an old lady.  

Gladys noticed me and turned, a frown creasing her face. “Help you?”

I pasted on a friendly smile. “Hi. I’m Willa Chance … Owner of Chance Books.”

“Mew.” I looked down at the most unusual cat I’d ever seen. It was a bright ginger color with long wavy fur. I’d never seen fur like that on a cat. It looked more like lamb’s wool than cat hair.