A Twist In The Tail

Millie poured eggs into the pan and started mixing them around while I told them about my suspicions that the note was really a blackmail note having to do with the gulls.

‘You don’t say?’ Mom glanced toward the cove. ‘Do you think someone is harming the gulls on purpose?’

‘Maybe. Charles was seen on the cliff and that’s where they nest. He might have discovered someone doing something to their nests.’ I lowered my voice. ‘I already have some suspects.’

‘Who?’ Millie rummaged for serving dishes and then started spooning the eggs into a silver bowl with a lid.

‘Well, now let’s think of this logically,’ Mom said, her forkful of ricotta pie hovering near her lips. ‘The partial note was found in Charles’s room, which seems to indicate the killer was in his room. So who visited Charles?’

I thought about that for a second as I layered the crispy bacon onto a white ironstone platter. ‘I don’t think anyone came to visit him. At least no one that I saw.’

‘Ava Grantham said she saw Tina in his room,’ Millie pointed out.

‘But Tina was there because she was stealing the cookbook. Charles wasn’t even at the guesthouse then, because she’d seen him on the cliff.’ I picked a piece of bacon out of the pile and crunched.

‘He could have gotten the letter earlier, maybe he confronted the person and they tore it up and Charles took part of it back with him.’

‘But the killer had to have been in the guesthouse at some point, either the night they killed Charles or when they sabotaged the room. And no one saw anyone who wasn’t supposed to be here,’ Millie said. ‘With Josie, Flora and Mike around I would think someone would have seen something.’

‘Charles was killed in the middle of the night, everyone was asleep.’ Mom snagged a piece of bacon and broke off two tiny morsels, then tossed one to Marlowe and one to Nero.

‘Not too much of that, Rose,’ Millie admonished. ‘That’s not good for them. I hope you aren’t going to get in the habit of feeding junk to the cats like your mother does, Josie.’

‘Huh?’ I hadn’t been paying attention because my brain was still processing the fact that no one had seen anyone in the guesthouse who wasn’t supposed to be there. ‘What if none of us saw an intruder in the guesthouse because the killer was one of the guests?’

‘Who?’

I glanced around to make sure none of the guests were hovering in the hallway. Especially not the guests that were now on my suspect list. The hall was empty.

‘The Weatherbys,’ I whispered. ‘They are very interested in the gulls and Flora found straw and feathers in their room. Tina said she saw them up on the cliffs near the nests!’

‘Well of course she did.’ Millie looked at me as if I was batty. ‘They are bird watchers. I mean surely you’ve seen them with all their cameras and binoculars.’

‘Oh, I’ve seen them all right. But the other day, Mike asked Ron some questions about his camera and Mike said that the answers seemed to indicate that Ron didn’t know much about the camera. Now wouldn’t he be somewhat of an expert if he was a bird watcher?’ I asked.

Mom pressed her lips together. ‘Maybe. But you know us older folks aren’t that good with technology. I had to ask your brother to help me with my new smartphone.’

Millie nodded. ‘She’s right. And they hardly seem like the type to bludgeon someone and try to make it look like he fell down the stairs.’

‘Right, someone would have to have carpentry skills for that,’ Mom added.

‘Either that or maybe they thought an elderly small-town sheriff wouldn’t be able to figure out the scene was tampered with. I remember Ron made a comment about small-town police forces not doing a thorough job. Maybe he was banking on that,’ I said.

Millie and Mom’s brows drew sharply together.

‘Did you say elderly? Seth is our age,’ Mom said.

‘Err… I meant senior.’

‘Right, well anyway,’ Millie picked up the serving bowls. ‘It’s time to serve the breakfast. Meanwhile we need to figure out exactly what the Weatherbys have been up to.’

‘How do we do that?’ Mom picked up the plate with the ricotta pie on it, eyeing the pieces as if she was counting them to make sure she’d get leftovers.

‘We ask who saw them around and what exactly they were doing. Were they watching the gulls or doing something more? That sort of thing,’ Millie said.

‘What about Barbara Littlefield?’ Mom asked. ‘She’s always up on the cliff mothering that lousewort. If the Weatherbys have been up to some shenanigans, chances are she’s seen them. I’d say someone should talk to her.’

I grabbed the pitcher of juice from the fridge and follow Millie to the dining room. Mom had a point about Barbara. Maybe the crotchety building inspector would have her uses after all.

Sixteen