Murder Most Howl: A Paws & Claws Mystery (15 page)

Myrtle’s mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping in air. I gathered she didn’t much like having the tables turned on her. I tried not to laugh or smile as I passed them on my way inside.

Holmes still manned the desk and was accepting Norm’s gossipy clues from participants. Twinkletoes sat on the desk like an Egyptian cat, her tail wrapped around her front paws.

“How’s it going?”

Holmes smiled at me and my heart fairly melted. “Pretty well but some of these clues are plain mean. Did you find out who’s revealing secrets about Wagtail residents?”

Promising that I would be right back to tell him all about it, I removed Trixie’s jacket. After stashing it in the private kitchen along with my own, I gazed at a bottle of wine. It had been a long day. I really wanted a glass of wine but that would put me to sleep in about two minutes. Instead I nuked milk for two hot chocolates and added Nutella and hazelnut liqueur. Maybe that wouldn’t put me right to sleep. I added a dollop of whipped cream to each one, carried them over to the desk, and pulled up a chair next to Holmes.

“Uh-oh,” said Holmes. “I’m being buttered up.”

“Would I do that to you?”

Holmes snorted. “You’re just like our grandmothers.” He handed me a slip of paper. “Can you believe this?”

I unfolded it.

Val Kowalchuk sleeps in the buff.

“Who would care? Isn’t that her own business?” asked Holmes.

“Hardly scandalous. Even our grandmothers wouldn’t be shocked by this.” I stared at the slip of paper. “Why would Norm think this was important to spread around? Such a harmless thing, really.”

“Norm?”

I filled Holmes in about Norm and the red envelopes.

“But why would he do that? It’s as though he intended to upset everyone in town.”

“I don’t know. Maybe they’re not all from the same person . . .” I snatched up another one of the scurrilous clues and compared them. They looked exactly alike except for what they said. “How would Norm know what Val wears when she sleeps?”

Holmes drew back, away from me. “Noooo. Not Norm and Val. I can’t see them together. No, definitely not. Maybe she was kidding around at the pub and told someone she sleeps in the buff. Norm might have overheard.”

That was possible. “He was really reaching if he thought her lack of sleeping attire would upset anyone. What do you know about Savannah and Norm?”

“I barely know either of them at all. He moved here after I left. I gather he put off quite a few people with unsavory business tactics. My mom said Savannah grew up on Snowball. Very pretty, very popular. Homecoming court, cheerleader, that kind of thing.”

“She must be twenty years younger than Norm was.”

Holmes nodded. “Yep. Twenty-four. Even I heard that gossip. Apparently, her folks were thrilled that she was marrying a well-to-do businessman who would give her the good life.”

“Do her parents still live here?”

“Over on Snowball, I think. Savannah hasn’t been married to Norm very long. Seems like there was another wife before her.”

“Know of any connection she might have to Blanche Tredwell?”

Holmes kicked me gently under the table.

Blanche, so pale that even her makeup couldn’t hide it, was saying good-bye to Charlotte not five feet away from us. Blanche left with Robin.

Ella Mae in her arms, Char walked over to Holmes and me. “Holly, could you be a dear and let me into our room? Geof is out looking for clues, and he walked off with our room key.”

“Of course.” I excused myself and started up the grand staircase with her. “I saw Geof earlier. He’s really into the game.”

“He and Ian are in their element. Actually it’s nice seeing them work together. They’ve been terribly competitive their whole lives.”

“Is that what you meant when you said ‘it’s the story of his life’ last night?”

“Yes. Ian is a brilliant scientist. Internationally known with all sorts of papers and books and awards. He’s something of a superstar in his field. And then to marry someone like Blanche Wimmer! Ian sure trumped Geof in his choice of wives. I’m always reminding Geof that he’s better looking and taller than Ian.”

“Is Blanche okay?” I asked. “She seemed so pale.”

“She lost her husband.”

“You mean lost as in couldn’t find him?”

“Oh no, dear. He died.”

How could she be so calm about it? “Ian died?”

“Did I say husband again? I’ve been calling him that all day, which probably didn’t help a bit. Ex-husband. Norman was her ex-husband.”

Fifteen

“Norman Wilson? Of Wagtail?” I stopped in the middle of the hallway.

Char blinked at me and grimaced. “How utterly thoughtless of me. You probably knew him. I’m so sorry.”

Surely I had misunderstood. “Norm Wilson, who resided in Wagtail and died last night or early this morning, was once married to Blanche Wimmer Tredwell?”

“That’s right. I don’t know why she’s so broken up about it. The man was odious to her. He was very possibly the worst thing that ever happened to her.”

Char reached her door and waited for me to unlock it.

“So you knew Norm?” I swung the door open.

“Me? Oh my, no. I didn’t meet Blanche until she was engaged to Ian. Thanks for letting us into our room.”

Char closed the door behind her.

I ambled back toward the stairs in a bit of a daze. That was the connection between Savannah and Blanche. Blanche had been the first wife and Savannah the second. In the dog playground, Savannah had said to someone that Blanche was in
town. And then something about not being able to wait? Now or never? What were her exact words?

A shudder rippled through me. Had Savannah murdered Norm in the hope that Blanche would be blamed? Shaking out of my funk, I scrambled down the stairs to Holmes.

“Blanche was Norm’s first wife!” I whispered.

Holmes drew back and eyed me. “For real?”

“Apparently.”

He whistled softly. “They’re the same type. Not now, of course. But doesn’t Savannah remind you a little bit of Blanche when she was young? The long blonde hair, the knockout figure. They both go a little heavy on the makeup.”

He was right about the similarities. In spite of myself, I giggled.

“What’s so funny?”

“I think one of the clues about the Baron von Rottweiler said he left his first wife for a younger woman.”

“That scum!”

The two of us laughed together, releasing the tension.

I reached for the phone. “I have to let Dave know about this.”

The number rolled over to the police department headquarters on Snowball Mountain. The woman on the other end asked if it was an emergency. It wasn’t really. She told me Dave and half the force were out rescuing stranded motorists and to call back. Only emergency calls were being taken at the moment. I relayed the news to Holmes.

“You look dog-tired,” said Holmes.

“I am. Looks like things are pretty quiet. Have you had dinner? We can poke around in the magic fridge.”

“I love that refrigerator. There’s always something good in there.”

We packed up the clues and carried our drinks to Oma’s kitchen. Twinkletoes ran ahead of us. I called the dogs for their dinner.

Holmes opened the fridge and poked around. “Looks
like chicken stew was the lunch special. There’s even one for the dogs. And another one for cats.”

He set the containers on the counter, and I pulled out three pots to heat them. “Is there rice in the fridge for the dogs?” I asked.

Holmes nodded. “Should I nuke it?”

“Please. Thanks for helping out. I never imagined anyone would make up fake clues about the people of Wagtail.”

“No problem. I love hanging around the inn. Besides, I’ve been going through the list of clues. I’m still not sure who murdered the baron, but I have some ideas. Listen to this.” He leaned over and read off the clue list.

The Baron von Rottweiler’s third wife is afraid he’ll kill her like he did his second wife.

I chuckled at him. “No fair. You have all the clues in front of you.”

“In spite of that I don’t have it completely figured out. There are one hundred clues! By the way, you can be glad I spared you the drama of Charlotte and Geoffrey Tredwell.”

“What drama?” I set Twinkletoes’s food on a counter, out of reach of the dogs.

She smelled it carefully, as though she wasn’t sure it was worthy of being eaten. Apparently, it passed the sniff test because she began to eat with gusto.

“While you were out gallivanting around, Charlotte nearly filed for divorce because Geoffrey was supposed to be dog-sitting Ella Mae, and he forgot all about her.”

I couldn’t help chuckling. “Char’s a little bit clingy with poor Ella Mae.” I checked the temperature of the dog stew. Perfect. I spooned it into their bowls over the rice and set them on the floor.

“They couldn’t find her. You can imagine the scene, with Char yelling at Geof and racing up and down the stairs in search of her.”

I laughed as he described it. I could just imagine Char’s panic. I ladled our stew into deep bowls while Holmes set the table. He added a loaf of fresh sourdough bread and sweet butter.

When we sat down to eat, he went on. “They finally found her in the Dogwood Room. Seems Ella Mae hopped up on the lap of a book club lady and the two of them took a nap together. It was actually pretty cute. The lady had stretched out on the sofa and little Ella Mae was stretched out beside her in exactly the same position.”

“So Char forgave Geof?”

“Nope. I’d say he’s in the doghouse for a while.”

The wall phone rang. I got up to answer it.

Old Mr. Wiggins, the vice mayor who was filling in for Oma during her absence, said, “We just got a call from the highway department. They’re closing down the highways because conditions are so rotten. Over in Snowball, too. He said the roads look like bumper car rides. And there’s supposed to be another big storm tonight, so there’s a good chance no one will be going home tomorrow.”

I was glad I didn’t have to call everyone. I guessed that came with the territory of the mayor and vice mayor in a small town like Wagtail. I thanked him and hung up.

“The roads are closed. We’re in for another whopper tonight.”

“I can stay over and give you a hand,” said Holmes.

I swear my heart picked up an extra beat.

“You won’t mind if I bunk in your guest room. Right? Or is there a new beau I don’t know about? Wouldn’t want to cramp your style.”

I swallowed hard. A romantic evening by the fire with Holmes on a snowy night? But I knew that was wishful thinking. Pretending to be calm and cool, I said, “Of course you can stay over. Thank you for offering to help. And there are no new beaus, so you needn’t worry about that.”

We washed up the dishes and returned to the lobby.

The dining area was empty. Myrtle, Sylvie, and some of their book club friends had gathered in the Dogwood Room with a couple of bottles of wine.

Zelda walked in, bundled up head to toe. “Have you seen Leo? He didn’t come home, and I’m worried about him being out in this weather. Word around town is that we’re in for a big storm tonight.”

I shook my head. “I haven’t seen him at all.”

At that exact moment, someone screamed like she’d found a corpse.

Sixteen

She screamed again.

I dashed to the little crowd that was forming at the Dogwood Room. “Excuse me. Coming through! Excuse me!”

Sylvie wobbled precariously on top of a sofa and pointed toward the floor at either her shoes or Leo, who sat below her watching her antics as though she was fascinating.

I glanced around. Nothing was out of place. “What’s wrong?”

Before she responded, I noticed that Gingersnap and Trixie, still a respectable distance away from Leo, had pointed their noses in his direction, and their little nostrils twitched.

“That cat put something in my shoe.”

“Like a toy?”

“Like a mouse!” she screamed.

Zelda matter-of-factly picked up a shoe. “Leo does that when he likes people. It’s a huge compliment to have him bring you a gift.”