The Ghost and Mrs. Mewer (A Paws and Claws Mystery Book 2) (26 page)

BOOK: The Ghost and Mrs. Mewer (A Paws and Claws Mystery Book 2)
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Thirty-three

I’m not a psychologist, but Mark’s surprise seemed as genuine as my own.

“Mallory?” asked Mark.

“Mallory?” I echoed.

“Maybe she borrowed it,” said Mark.

And just like that, my suspicions about him faded. Mark was calm as a lake on a Sunday morning. He could have used a word like
swiped
or
stole
, but he showed his true colors when he said
borrowed
, as if it were a natural act between friends, and she would have returned it to him.

But I was reeling from the revelation. Someone, presumably Mark or Mallory, since their fingerprints were on the knife, had lost it exactly where the pumpkin had been smashed.

“When did you hike with Grayson?” I asked.

Mark’s forehead wrinkled. “A couple days before everyone else arrived.”

I waited for Dave to continue with his questions. I shouldn’t have butted in.

While Dave and Mark spoke, I was calculating. It seemed perfectly reasonable that it might have fallen out of Mark’s pocket. But it happened during a very narrow window of time, which made it suspect. It had landed there sometime in the last few days. It was lying under a piece of the pumpkin, so one might even draw the conclusion that it happened before or when the pumpkin smashed, making the potential time frame still narrower. But I couldn’t see how it tied into Mallory’s death.

“Where else did you go?” asked Dave.

“When?”

“That day. Before hiking or after hiking?”

“Grayson met me at my house. We walked over to Wraith Hollow and hiked, then I went home to shower and change before meeting with Rose at Café Chat.”

“Thanks.” Dave turned toward me. “Could I have a word with you privately?”

“Sure.” I led the way to the kitchen.

“Someone called the chief of police to lodge a complaint against me. There’s a remote chance that they’ll pull me off the Wagtail detail.”

“No! You’re part of the fabric of Wagtail. We’ll stage a protest.”

“Don’t you dare. I don’t want a big fuss. Don’t say a word to anyone else, okay? I’m on my way to meet with the chief. I’ll keep you posted.”

“No, it’s not okay. We’re not going to let that happen to you. Who complained?”

Dave sighed. “One Birdie Dupuy.”

“Why would she do a thing like that?” What was I thinking? She was crazy enough to have gotten me out of bed on false pretenses and timed my response.

“She’s been chasing Doc a long time. He only has eyes for Rose. I’d guess she’s trying to ingratiate herself.”

“Say no more. I’ll call your chief and tell him she’s a nut.”

“Thanks, Holly, but that’s not necessary. This business with Brian, the attack on Clementine, Mallory’s fingerprints on the knife”—he shook his head—“I don’t know how it all ties together yet, but at least the chief will know I’m not out of bounds by suspecting murder. Don’t worry. I’ll still be around. They could assign me somewhere else, but I live in Wagtail, and they can’t make me move.”

I hugged him. “Good luck. Let me know if I can help. Okay?”

Dave smiled at me. “Don’t call anybody on my behalf yet. I’ll be in touch after I meet with the chief.”

No sooner had we left the kitchen than Holmes flagged me down.

In dark jeans with bloodred stripes up the sides, tall boots, a cream-colored captain’s shirt with a V-neck, and a black utility vest, he looked fairly normal, but the mock blaster pistol he carried gave his costume away—Han Solo.

“Good morning, Mr. Solo. I’ll be right with you. I think it’s Mr. Huckle’s day off. I’d better give Shelley a hand setting up for the ghost hunters.”

With Holmes pitching in, the breakfast buffet in the Dogwood Room was ready to go in a matter of minutes. The Apparition Apprehenders trickled in, groggy after being up all night. Brian showed up as the Incredible Hulk. Felix and Casper wore coordinating Batman and Robin outfits. Grayson looked dashing in a trim Star Trek uniform. Mark appeared comfortable and normal in khakis, a tan shirt, and a leather jacket, but there was no mistaking Indiana Jones’s hat and whip.

When they settled in, I made a quick round of pouring coffee.

“I need a mug of this,” I whispered to Holmes.

“I could use one, too. I’m not used to staying up all night. How did I ever pull all-nighters in college?”

We headed for the coffee station, where I made a fresh pot and poured the rich, hot liquid into mugs for us.

“How did it go at Clementine’s last night?”

“Great. It was more like a party than anything else. She told everyone about Ron Koontz and her husband. She’ll be okay. Clementine has always been a trouper.” He smiled. “She’s just not the wealthiest girl in town anymore. Did you get my message about the shoes?”

I glanced down at my ruby slippers, which were beginning to pinch my feet. “Rose said we have the wrong shoe?”

Holmes laughed. “That’s my grandma. I love her like crazy, but she has so many projects going on that she doesn’t listen. I didn’t say ‘the wrong shoe.’ I said, ‘We’re wrong about the shoes.’”

“How so?”

“Because when you go to the gazebo, you take off your shoes and dangle your feet in the water. The killer’s shoes wouldn’t have been wet.”

“It’s October! It’s cold out, and it was the middle of the night.”

“You’re not following me. When a guy goes there with a girl with romance in mind, they take off their shoes. You know, play footsie with the water.”

I poured sugar and milk in my coffee and stirred it. “What makes you think there was romance?”

Holmes leaned against the counter. “Mallory must have set up a rendezvous with someone. Otherwise, she would have been asleep at Mark’s house. What other reason would she possibly have for being out in the middle of the night after everyone else had gone to bed?”

“So you think Felix dropped her off at Mark’s place, and she changed into her Becca Wraith costume to meet some guy she was hot for? Give me a break. You don’t know women, Holmes. Who would put on white makeup and black goop around her eyes to impress a guy? Not exactly sexy.”

“Think about it, Holly. The most likely killer was one of the ghost hunters. Wouldn’t they think it was cool if she showed up as a ghost?”

The wonderful aromas from the kitchen were making my stomach growl. “Want some lunch?” I walked over to the serving counter and rapped on the window hatch.

The cook opened it.

“Hi! You’re making something that smells heavenly.”

He grinned, obviously pleased. “For two?” He walked away but returned quickly with three plates. “No garlic in Trixie’s dish. Enjoy!”

Holmes and I cracked up when we saw what appeared to be meatballs with olive eyes staring back at us on a bed of spaghetti in a bloodred sauce. Breadsticks shaped like dog bones accompanied our meals.

We settled at the corner table. I was as famished as Trixie usually was. She snarfed her meal immediately.

“So here’s the thing, Holmes. If we’re wrong about the wet shoes, then why did someone swipe a shoe from the lost and found box last night?”

His hand held a fork full of spaghetti, but it stopped in midair. “Whoa! Someone must have thought the shoe would give him away. Are you certain it was a man’s shoe?”

“I think so. A women could wear it, but Eva wouldn’t be caught dead in a shoe like that.”

I slipped off my own shoes while we ate. They weren’t as comfortable as I remembered.

“The thief only swiped one shoe? Then where’s the other one?”

“My thought exactly.” I looked down at Trixie, who perked her ears, no doubt in hopes of a bite of my lunch. “Where did Casper find that shoe?” I asked her.

If she knew, she wasn’t telling.

“Casper? Maybe the shoe belongs to Felix.”

“Then would he have asked to whom it belonged? He could have just tucked it under his arm and walked quietly away with it.”

“That shoe must mean something if the owner saw him offering it to everyone and didn’t claim it as his own.”

“That’s what I think—not to mention that it was sufficiently important to steal it from the lost and found box.”

“But what would be so special about a shoe? If I left one of my shoes here today it wouldn’t point a finger at me. No one would know it was mine. I don’t get it.”

I didn’t, either. I filled Holmes in on Brian and the purse that belonged to Clementine.

“That’s really creepy. You think Brian murdered Mallory?”

“Eva thinks he’s not very bright. Yet he was clever enough to have her wondering why Mallory was haunting her. Maybe that big dumb galumph thing is just an act.”

“I feel for Mark, though. The pyramid scheme affected a lot of people. He say anything about it to you?”

“No. I’m not sure he knows about Clementine’s connection.”

“I bet he does. He could be the one who attacked her. Maybe the attack didn’t have anything to do with the ghost diamonds. Someone who lost all his money might be inclined to attack out of anger.”

I didn’t want to imagine that Mark could be so cruel to Clementine. Just an hour ago, I was convinced that he hadn’t killed Mallory. Yet here I was wondering if he was so depraved that he killed Mallory and intended to eliminate Clementine, too.

The afternoon flew by. I itched to change into my costume for the gala, because the ruby slippers were torturing my feet. At four o’clock, the ghost hunters, Mr. Luciano, Lillian, Rose, and Oma clustered in the lobby.

“Holly!” Oma beckoned me. “Hurry!”

I limped over to join them. “What’s going on?”

“Shh.” She pointed to the Dogwood Room.

Thirty-four

Mark knelt before Eva on one knee and swept off his Indiana Jones hat. Something sparkly dangled from a bow on Mrs. Mewer’s collar.

“Eva Francine Chevalier, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Eva’s pillbox hat tumbled off when she crouched to pull Mark into a big smooch.

The group in the lobby cheered and applauded. Mrs. Mewer recoiled at the noise.

Mark managed to grab her before she took off. He untied the bow on her neck and slid a ring on Eva’s finger. Even from a distance I could tell it was a whopper.

Oma must have had advance notice, because Shelley arrived with a tray of champagne glasses.

Mr. Luciano raised his glass. “Long live true love!”

Eva blushed, but her happiness shone through.

Lillian whispered to me, “I helped Mark pick out the vintage 1960s engagement ring. I knew she would flip for it.”

An oval diamond appeared to be set in a platinum. Three-tapered baguette-cut diamonds flanked it like fans on both sides. “It’s lovely.”

“It was such fun shopping for it,” chirped Lillian.

I glanced at the ring again. Diamonds were pricy. Hadn’t Mallory told Clementine that Mark lost his money to Ron Koontz? I whispered to Lillian, “Didn’t Ron Koontz steal Mark’s money, too?”

“He lost quite a bit, but I don’t think he was wiped out.” Lillian grasped Mark’s hand and pulled him toward us. “What with the TV show and the book, things are looking up for him. Aren’t they, Mark?” She pecked him on the cheek.

“Hey, I would have hocked everything I have to buy that ring for Eva! I’m glad I didn’t have to. I was sucked in by Koontz, though. I should have known he was offering a deal that was too good to be true. Luckily, I didn’t invest everything. I have a little nest egg left—but I know a lot of people who took a bath.”

Surely I hadn’t misunderstood. “Did you tell Mallory that you were broke?”

Mark winced. “It seemed like a gentle way to make her lose interest in me. Mallory had issues, and the security of a well-padded bank account was important to her.”

Lillian raised her glass. “I think most of us can relate to that desire.”

Mr. Luciano cleared his throat. “May I have your attention? I have good news. Based on early viewings of your work, I am very pleased to announce that the Apparition Apprehenders are being offered a nine-episode TV deal to be shot at various locations yet to be determined.”

Cheers rose, along with a lot of high-fiving all around.

I congratulated Eva and edged away, eager to change clothes and ditch the shoes that hurt my feet. “C’mon, Trixie.”

Gingersnap trotted along with us. Casper came too, carrying his dinosaur.

I was hobbling toward the elevator when Oma saw me.

“What happened to you? You’re walking like an old woman.”

The funny gait Clementine had seen! Maybe the killer wore only one shoe or his shoes didn’t fit. “I’m going up to change clothes. Do we have someone to mind the inn while we’re all at the gala?”

“I have taken care of that. You have fun with the ghost hunters. They should be in good spirits tonight with so much to celebrate.”

I took the elevator up to the third floor, hoping my witch boots were roomy. All three dogs met me at the door. I unlocked it, kicked off the miserable shoes, and collapsed into one of the big cushy chairs.

*   *   *

An hour later, I woke to the sound of Ben ranting.

“Look what your cats did to Elmer’s book.”

It was a shame, really. I didn’t dare show it to Aunt Birdie. The beautiful leather was intact, but they had ripped the inside of the cover. “Maybe I can repair some of the damage. Mrs. Mewer is going home tomorrow, so I think the wild behavior will probably cease.”

Ben sat down in the other chair and plopped his feet up on the ottoman. It would have been rude to ask,
How long must you stay?
Besides, he’d been kind of fun this week. Not at all like the staid fellow I knew. “So what kind of work brought you here?” He didn’t seem to have been doing much of it, whatever it was.

“I came to see
you
.”

I couldn’t have been more shocked. “Why?”

“I didn’t think you would really move. It’s not the same without you, Holl. I miss you.”

I didn’t know what to say. “Why didn’t you call me? Why didn’t you come by the house during the month I was packing? You acted like I was already gone.”

“It didn’t seem real. I expected you to come to your senses and go back to your old job, and everything would fall back in place again.”

“So I messed with your comfort zone. My departure disturbed the status quo for you.”

“It seemed so final. Like you had dropped off the face of the Earth.” He gazed around at the mess of boxes. “Most of your stuff is still packed. You could move back.”

I rose to put on some coffee. “I thought we put this behind us. I like it here. I love Trixie and Twinkletoes. And Oma. I’m sorry, Ben. This is my home now.”

He didn’t say another word.

I retreated to my room to dress. The horizontally striped orange and black tights had always been favorites of mine. I slid the dress over my head and zipped the side. It had been for a formal Halloween event and featured spiderweb lace across the top. The long, flowing sleeves were made of the same spiderweb material. I pinned on a large black spider brooch that sparkled when I moved. The dress came to mid-calf to show off the fun stockings. Rhinestones glimmered on the pointy hat and the spiderweb lace trailed around the brim, like a veil.

I hurried toward the coffee and gulped it. While I waited for Ben, I fed Twinkletoes and Mrs. Mewer a dish our cook had named Black Cat Indulgence. It smelled like liver. They lapped it up.

When they finished and began to wash their faces, I said, “Now that you’ve damaged Elmer’s book, may I recommend that you make yourselves scarce while Ben is here? We’ll be leaving any minute, and you can come back in here then.”

Just like typical cats, they didn’t care. I scooped them up and carried them into my bedroom. They seemed quite content to continue with the washing ritual there.

Hmm, I should have bought Trixie a matching witch costume. No matter—I found shears, snipped a bit of the lace off the hat, and tied it in a bow around her neck.

“You’re probably happy to be out of that Tootsie Roll costume, aren’t you?”

Ben finally emerged from the guest room dressed as a pirate and looking sheepish. “Maybe I should just wear a T-shirt and jeans, like Mark did today.”

Ahh, the shy, boring Ben was back. “Not a chance. I think you’re quite the dashing swashbuckler. And your glasses work great over the eye patch!”

Someone rapped softly on my door. Trixie ran to it barking.

I opened it to find Marisol, the housekeeper, holding a shoe. A lot of men’s shoes looked alike to me, but I would know those anywhere. It matched the shoe that was stolen from the lost and found box.

“I am sorry to disturb you,” said Marisol, “but I found this shoe in the trash today. I don’t know what to do. Is a good shoe. Maybe it falls in garbage can by mistake?”

I could hardly breathe. “Do you know which room it came from?”

“Yes. Mr. Grayson’s room.”

“Grayson!” I should have considered him more seriously. Hadn’t a woman accused him of getting rough with her at his previous TV gig?

I thanked Marisol, took the shoe, and assured her I would take care of it. I closed the door and shoved the shoe into a bag. “Let’s go. I need to find Dave. Grayson murdered Mallory!”

I dialed Dave’s number as we walked down the stairs but got his answering machine. Oma, Rose, and Doc were in the lobby. I told them what happened. “Marisol found the missing shoe. Steer clear of Grayson. I’m trying to reach Dave.” I hoped they hadn’t taken him off Wagtail detail yet.

Rose sagged with relief. “I just saw him over at the Wagtail Springs Hotel.”

“We’re headed straight there. C’mon Ben.”

We took a large golf cart to the gala. On the way, Ben said, “I don’t understand why you think this shoe is evidence of murder.”

“Because Clementine saw someone running with an odd gait that night. Then someone stole the matching shoe from the lost and found box. There has to be a connection.”

Ben was silent for a moment. “I hate to disappoint you but in the first place, there’s no evidence that the person with the odd gait committed murder. And in the second place, that shoe isn’t tied to Mallory in any way that I know of. Sorry, Holly, but I think you’re making a big fuss over nothing.”

The road leading to the hotel was already packed with golf carts. We parked and walked a short distance, giving me time to consider what Ben had said. I hated to admit that he was probably right. The shoe wasn’t really evidence of anything. “Maybe Grayson won’t know that, and Dave can use it to get a confession out of him.”

As we approached, the notes of “Monster Mash” were so loud that we could hear the music outside. The grand old place had come alive for the night.

A live band performed in the ballroom. Zelda spun on the dance floor in a white dress. She made a perfect Marilyn Monroe.

Clementine was a knockout in the I Dream of Jeannie costume. “You came!” I said.

“The people of Wagtail are truly wonderful, Holly. Oma called and insisted that Dave would be here to keep a watchful eye over us. Then Dave arranged for an off-duty cop to stay at the house. Everyone has been so kind and thoughtful.” Tears welled in her eyes.

“Don’t cry! You’ll ruin your makeup.”

Parker walked over and extended his hand. “Come on, Clemmie, you know you want to dance.”

“Don’t call me Clemmie!” She smiled, though, and accompanied him onto the dance floor.

I pressed through the crowd in search of Dave. Where was he? If he was off duty, he might have worn a costume. I scanned people as they danced past me. After half an hour, I tried calling him again but to no avail. I spotted Holmes wearing the gross Obadiah costume again, complete with the awful latex mask over his head and the snakes attached to his hands. Yuck. He couldn’t find anything better to wear?

I had lost Ben, but down the hallway, Obadiah waved his hands at me. The plastic snakes swung wildly. Holmes. He must be hot in that mask.

I walked toward him. “Really? You couldn’t do better than this for a costume? It’s so gross!”

He disappeared into infamous room three, where Hiram had died. Trixie walked beside me, jumping up to nip the pocket where I had stashed treats. We followed him into the room.

“What are you up to now?” I asked Holmes. “Are you going to make me listen to ghostly rattles?”

He slammed me from behind with such force that I flew forward and sprawled on the floor facedown. The bag containing the shoe arced through the air. Trixie sniffed my head. I tried to scramble to my feet but the turned-up toes of my witch’s boots slipped and slid on the floor. I flipped over onto my rear but he quickly loomed over me. My skirt twisted around my legs.

Okay, clearly not Holmes! He was too tall to be Felix and not chunky enough to be Brian. “Pity that you couldn’t just mind your own business. This is a warning. Do you understand?” He picked up the bag with the shoe in it. “Your grandmother would be devastated to find you dead. You wouldn’t want that, now, would you?”

He was insane! I scooted backward on the floor, struggling to recognize the voice that was distorted by the mask. “Grayson?”

He clucked at me. “We do just about anything for family, don’t we? Though you could be kinder to your aunt Birdie.”

“I looked around for a weapon in case he came at me. There wasn’t much in the room. The chair. I inched toward it. “Why? Why did you kill Mallory?”

“Leave it alone. Stop poking your nose into everyone’s business, or next time, you’ll be the one floating in the water.”

Trixie growled and jumped over me, right at his face. “No, Trixie, nooooo!” I grabbed the seat of the chair and pulled myself up. “Trixie!”

BOOK: The Ghost and Mrs. Mewer (A Paws and Claws Mystery Book 2)
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