A Twist In The Tail

Marlowe jerked her head in Nero’s direction. ‘Murder? But this is an accident. Look at the stairs.’

‘Things are not always as they seem.’ Even though the situation was not ideal for the Oyster Cove Guesthouse—not to mention it not being ideal for Charles Prescott—Nero wasn’t about to pass up a chance to share some of his wisdom with the younger cat.

Nero had been watching over the Guesthouse for decades now. He’d wandered past the aged estate one day and knew it should be his home. Millie’s senior memory prevented her from realizing the cat had been there much longer than any normal cat would have lived. In those decades, he’d become very protective of the Guesthouse.

Marlowe had joined more recently. Nero had to admit he had been a bit put-out when Millie had brought Marlowe home as a young kit she’d found abandoned under a bush at the shopping mall about ten years ago, but over time he’d grown found of his young protege. Besides he had to have someone to pass his wisdom on to. And she could be good company. Sometimes.

Marlowe’s eyes widened. ‘You mean you’ve seen a clue that someone else was here?’

Nero simply nodded. Over at the body, Seth was taking care to leave things as undisturbed as possible for the medical examiner. The deputy, Johnnie Sanders, was taking pictures and the part-timer Sheila Watts was taking notes. Nero was glad they hadn’t noticed them and shooed them out. Cats weren’t usually welcome at crime scenes, but he’d learned that he could make himself practically invisible to humans if he was quiet and slowly slunk around, low to the ground. It worked well for sneaking into rooms and buildings too, though getting out could be a challenge if the humans shut the doors on you.

‘You think he came through that door up there and the stairs simply gave way?’ Sheila pointed to the tops of the stairs.

‘Looks that way.’ Sheriff Chamberlain leaned closer to the broken stairway. ‘These treads are rotted and the banister must have fallen off.’

‘That might have even happened before.’ Sheila inspected the edges of some upper treads still intact. ‘There’s dust here in the holes, so I think part of the banister might have fallen off long ago.’

‘Even more dangerous.’ Seth looked at the body. ‘What kind of fool would attempt these stairs, especially with no railing?’

Nero glanced at Marlowe. He wished the young cat would hurry up and find the clue before Seth Chamberlain made a faulty decision about the manner in which Charles Prescott met his maker. Honestly it was too bad that humans only had one life, otherwise Charles would be walking around in no time, and they wouldn’t have this problem on their hands.

‘Did you notice anything unusual last night?’ Nero asked. ‘I was chasing mice in the attic and cat-napping in between courses. I didn’t hear a thing.’ He was only into the early part of his sixth life, and certainly not anywhere near the age his hearing should be going.

Marlowe shot him a sheepish glance. ‘I… err… I may have gone down to the wharf.’

Nero raised a brow. ‘You don’t say?’ He didn’t want to get into Marlowe’s nightly activities. Girls would be girls. He could already see that the cat felt guilty, and he wasn’t her parent, just her mentor.

‘I just hope we haven’t let Millie down,’ Marlowe said.

‘Yes, it’s unfortunate this has happened so soon after she entrusted the future of the guesthouse to us,’ Nero said.

Marlowe hung her head. ‘We have failed our first important task.’

‘We may still be able to redeem ourselves. If we can help solve this quickly, it may not hurt things too badly. You know what a short-term memory humans have. The sooner the case is closed, the sooner they will move their attentions to something else. Making sure the guesthouse survives is of utmost importance. Millie entrusted that task to us.’ Nero frowned. ‘I do wish it didn’t come with that human Josie. She isn’t as savvy as Millie.’

Marlowe continued sniffing the perimeter of the room. ‘Yeah, but she does come in handy for doing the menial work like a laundry, cleaning and cooking. And apparently since she came with the guesthouse, we need to be as loyal to her as we were to Millie.’

Nero nodded. ‘I agree about the loyalty part. The cooking part needs work. She’s always burning things. Not like our Millie.’

‘As long as she fills our dishes.’

Nero joined Marlowe in sniffing. ‘Have you picked up the scent of a stranger?’

‘No. Just the usual people and those who were in here this morning. Josie, Millie, Charles, Mike, Barbara Littlefield. There is something spicy, but I can’t quite place it. Oh, and Stella Dumont.’

Nero nodded sagely. Stella Dumont owned Smugglers Bay, just over the crest of the hill. They could even see the gulls that circled her deck from the side yard. Darn nuisance those gulls were. Apparently she’d been coming around the guesthouse to see Mike. ‘Yes, but we already know she comes here often.’