A Twist In The Tail

Tina pushed some eggs around the plate with her fork. ‘It was, truly.’

Mike appeared in the doorway earning an appreciative glance from Tina – and also from Ava if I was not mistaken. The Weatherbys nodded to him as they exited.

‘Hey Sunshine.’ He helped himself to coffee.

I rolled my eyes and faked a smile. ‘You must be almost done with your work here.’

Mike sipped the coffee and made a face. I wasn’t sure if the face was about the coffee or the mention of his work. ‘Sort of.’

‘What do you mean? You have a set list of tasks that Millie paid you for. I don’t have money for extras.’

‘The extras are on me. Seeing as were such old friends.’ He moved closer. Too close really. Dizzily close. I stepped away, my butt hitting up against the sideboard. Ava watched from her table, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

‘So, ummm… did you want something besides coffee?’ I asked.

‘Uhhh yeah…’ Mike glanced over at Ava then back at me. He lowered his voice. ‘The police tape is gone in the West wing and I wanted to show you something.’

I glanced longingly back at the buffet table. I really wanted to clean this stuff up. But I also wanted to see whatever it was Mike had to show me. It might lead me to the killer’s identity. Maybe a miracle had happened overnight and Flora would come in and clean up the breakfast dishes.

‘Okay.’ I started toward the door and Mike followed, putting his hand on the small of my back. I sped up and his hand fell away. Who did he think he was? That was getting just a little too friendly and I didn’t like the way my stomach tightened and I got all hot-flashy.

As we passed into the foyer, I ducked behind the little podium I used as a check-in desk to get the key to the door that shut the West wing from the rest of the guesthouse.

The Weatherbys came down the stairs juggling various cameras and binoculars. When Ron Weatherby reached the bottom, he nearly dropped one of the cameras. Mike lunged to catch it before it smashed on the wood floor.

‘Hey, nice Nikon,’ Mike admired the camera before handing it back to Ron. ‘Is that one of the new models that has the automatic closeup focus?’

Ron frowned at the camera. ‘Yeah, it’s the newer model.’

‘So do you use it for close-ups of birds in the trees?’ Mike asked. ‘Can you set the autofocus so it works in all lighting and situations?’

Ron glanced at Iona, then down at the camera again. ‘Yeah, that’s just what we use it for. It took me a while to learn how to fiddle with all the dials and everything.’

Mike’s brows knit together as Ron took the camera back.

‘We’re going out to do some birdwatching on the beach,’ Iona smiled and tugged Ron toward the door.

‘Have a great time,’ I said.

Mike watched them leave, an odd look on his face. ‘That was strange.’

‘What you mean?’ I asked.

‘Well his answer about the camera was kind of odd. There aren’t any dials to fiddle with on those.’

‘Really?’ I watched them hop into their car and drive off. ‘Well they are old, maybe he didn’t know what he was talking about or couldn’t remember or used the wrong words?’

Mike shrugged. ‘Maybe. Come on, let me show you what I found in the room.’

We proceeded down the hallway to the West Wing door. I was glad to see the door was still locked. Barbara would have approved, though I was sure she’d find something else wrong to complain about. I opened it and we stepped inside. The room had a creepy stillness to it. My stomach tightened as I glanced over at where Charles’ body had been. You could make out all the footprints in the dust and a dark stain. Blood? I was sure Flora would say that cleaning blood was not in her job description.

‘Look over here.’ Mike pointed to the stairway where several of the treads had been broken. The small section of the railing that was left dangled precariously. It had appeared at first that Charles had slipped, perhaps grabbing at the railing, which gave way, causing him to tumble down the stairs and hit his head.

‘Looks like the stairs collapsed,’ I said.

‘It looks like it. But, if you look closely, you can see that the stairs were sawn from underneath.’ Mike got down on his hands and knees and gestured for me to follow suit. He tilted his head to the side to look at the treads from underneath. I did the same. I had to get very close to him to see what he was pointing at. There was definitely something fishy going on underneath those stairs – and it wasn’t the way Mike had gotten me on my hands and knees so easily either.

‘You can see how they sawed away just enough so that a light amount of weight would cause the stairs to break. But they didn’t cut all the way through, so at first glance the wood is splintered like it rotted and gave way. But when you look closer you can see the even break underneath.’

I looked again. He was right. ‘Do you think the killer did this before and somehow persuaded Charles to come down the stairs?’

‘Maybe.’

I glanced at the pile of railing spindles. ‘But then why hit him with the newel post?’