A Twist In The Tail

He inched closer and my heartbeat sped up. ‘Yeah, I did. But whether it is or isn’t them, you shouldn’t be investigating it. Leave it to Sheriff Chamberlain.’

I sighed. ‘I wish I could, but he seems to be barking up the wrong tree and I’m sitting on the top branch.’

Mike’s face softened. ‘I know. Don’t worry. The truth will come out. I’ve been looking into it myself, so you don’t need to concern yourself with it.’

I didn’t need to concern myself? Did he seriously just say that? Did he think I should keep to the cooking and cleaning and let the men do the investigating? Ha! I’d show him. But I didn’t voice my thoughts. Better to let him think I was playing along with him, I knew how to handle domineering, control-freaky men.

I smiled sweetly. ‘That’s really nice of you. I suppose you’re right. Thanks. Now if you don’t mind…’ I gestured toward the door.

‘Right, you have cleaning. You work really hard here. Maybe you need a night out.’

Not with you. No way. ‘Maybe.’

‘I’m just finishing up here and…’

He let his voice drift off and an eager puppy dog look spread across his face. I knew what he was suggesting but I would not be swayed. He probably just wanted to get me away from the Weatherbys room so I wouldn’t get evidence that they were the killers before he did. I knew how competitive men could be. Besides, I had no desire to go on a date. Not with him or anyone for that matter. For one, I was still reeling after the divorce and for two we had history and it wasn’t all pretty.

‘You must be almost done with the work Millie contracted you to do,’ I said by way of avoiding his suggestion.

Mike nodded, looking kind of sad. ‘This place needs a lot more work though. I have spare time in my schedule…’

‘Thanks, but I have a tight budget.’ The last thing I wanted was Mike hanging around here. As it was, I was almost starting to get used to him and I certainly did not want that. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but I’d already been talking to Ed O’Hara—a nice retired gentleman who was not within my dating range—about doing the rest of the work.

He leaned in. ‘I’d be willing to give you a discount or we could work something out.’

He was magnetic, with a charming smile and soulful brown eyes. A discount would be nice. So would… wait! No. I was not going to go there. Best if he was out of my sight for good.

‘I wouldn’t want to take advantage of you, but thanks for the offer.’ I gestured toward the door. ‘I really need to get to work.’

He pushed away from the wall, obviously disappointed. ‘Ok. But I hope you really are cleaning. I’m serious Josie, there’s a killer on the loose and it could be dangerous.’

‘Me too. Just cleaning.’ I smiled and managed to hold his gaze until he walked away. Once I heard the last stair creak, I let out my breath. I didn’t like being sneaky or lying, but one did what one had to do.

I slipped the key into the lock, turned the knob and the door squeaked open.

Given Flora’s description, I had expected the room to be filled with feathers and straw, but it was neat as a pin. Maybe Flora had cleaned. Most likely she’d exaggerated. I poked around in the bureau, under the bed and in the medicine cabinet.

The sound of tires on gravel startled me and I ran to the window. It was only Mike leaving. The driveway was empty. The Weatherbys car was still gone, but I knew I had to hurry.

In the small drawer of the writing desk, I hit pay dirt. An envelope addressed to Bill and Cindy Weston. Hmm… maybe I was on to something, but I needed more.

Maybe in the closet or between the mattress and box spring?

I was on my hands and knees in the closet, examining the bottom of Ron’s shoes, which had straw and twigs embedded inside the thick treads, when I heard the door open.

‘I’ve been craving clams ever since—’ Iona’s words were cut off as she noticed me crouched there on the floor. ‘Josie? What are you doing?’

‘Ummm… just cleaning.’

Her questioning gaze was riveted on my right hand, which still held Ron’s shoe.

‘I like to vacuum under the shoes.’ I plopped the shoe back down and jumped up. ‘See? All nice and clean.’

Ron’s closed the door and glared at me. His eyes were not friendly. ‘I don’t see any vacuum cleaner.’

Crap. Maybe Mike had been right and I should have stayed out of investigating. But if I didn’t, I’d have to remember to bring props next time if I was trying to pose as a cleaning excuse.

‘I prefer the old-fashioned method of picking stuff up by hand.’

Mew!

The cats must have snuck in with the Weatherbys. They trotted around Iona’s feet, looking up at the bag of take-out food from Salty’s which was filling the room with the delicious smell of fried clams. Just my luck they’d decided to get takeout instead of eat in.

Meow!

Nero cast a glance at me. Was he trying to signal me? To let me know they would help me escape if need be? Because judging by the way Ron was planted in front of the door with his hands on his hips, I might need help.

Iona put the bag on the dresser and Marlowe immediately jumped up and started sniffing.