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Authors: Leighann Dobbs

Tags: #Paranormal, #Ghost, #New Hampshire, #Mystery

A Mew to a Kill (16 page)

BOOK: A Mew to a Kill
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Chapter Fifteen

“I knew Neil wasn’t the killer.” Pepper settled back in the passenger seat of the Jeep as we drove toward George’s real estate office.
 

“He still could be. He might have found out about Paisley’s affair with George and killed her in a jealous rage. Maybe he’s framing George? He could be lying about seeing him there that morning.”

“Pfft. You don’t think that otherwise you wouldn’t have let him go.”

“I didn’t know what to think. But we need to look around in George’s real estate building. Myrna said she saw a light on in the outbuilding that morning. And since it’s just getting dark now and the office is closed, it’s the perfect time to poke around without anyone seeing us.”

“You’re hoping we will find something that pulls it all together and incriminates George.”

“Exactly. But I still wonder about Paisley’s brother. I don’t know where he fits in. I saw someone lurking around the alley next to Paisley’s shop this afternoon and Neil just told us it wasn’t him. It could have been Kenny, they have the same build.”

“I know. I thought that was him back at Paisley’s house!”

“Me, too.”
 

“But why would he be lurking around her shop?” Pepper asked. “The cameras?”

“Maybe.”

“Or maybe he’s just missing his sister.” Pepper’s voice got that sappy tinge to it and I did a mental eye-roll knowing she was feeling sorry for Kenny.

“Right. We can’t jump to conclusions. We need solid evidence. If we don’t find something here, we might want to figure out how to get into Kenny’s room at the halfway house and see what he's hiding in there.” I pulled slowly into the empty parking lot and parked behind the building so no one could see us from the road.
 

We got out and snuck over to the door. It was short, not even six feet in height and just an old piece of wood with rusty hinges and a hasp, simple enough to open except for the big padlock keeping it closed.
 

My stomach sank. “It’s locked.”

Pepper chewed on her bottom lip. “Julie Brown works as George’s admin, and if I know Julie, there’s a key hidden around here somewhere. She’s notorious for losing keys and always has to hide a spare.”

Pepper stood on her tiptoes and ran her fingertips along the top of the door frame. “Before I opened the tea shop, I worked with Julie in the consignment store down on Brick Road. She used to like to hide the key someplace easily accessible.” She moved from the top of the door over to one of the small windows, her fingers tapping along the top. She stopped and smiled, then pulled down a silver key.

She held the key out and I took it and tried it in the padlock. It worked. I wondered if George knew a spare key to his storage building was so easily accessible.

Pepper put the key back and we pushed the door, its hinges creaking as it swung open.

“Shhh…” I whispered. Not that anyone was around to hear us. We stepped into the dark.

“Did you bring a flashlight?” You’d think I’d be prepared with these things by now with the many times I’d had to look for things in the dark, but I wasn’t. Thankfully, Pepper was—she had a flashlight app on her cell phone. She turned it on and pointed the thin sliver of light around.

The building was long and thin. Once, it had been a chicken coop for the original farm, but George had revamped it into a storage shed. It was filled with a mishmash of broken chairs, old filing cabinets and boxes, all of which looked like dark shadows unless Pepper's flashlight was pointed directly at them.

In the middle was a small walkway and we proceeded down it, scuffling our feet on the cement so as not to trip over anything sticking out. Pepper pointed her flashlight to the left and right as we moved slowly down the length of the building.

“There’s too much stuff in here. It will take us a year to find anything. Do you really think George would hide something that would incriminate him in here?” Pepper aimed the beam of light into a box and picked out a stapler, tape dispenser and a chair arm.
 

“I think it would be a good place. I doubt anyone ever comes in here. It looks like they just throw stuff in and close the door. Besides, Myrna said the light was on the morning of the fire and she never saw it on before.”

I kept an eye out of the window to look for anyone pulling into the parking lot who might catch us inside. That wouldn’t be good. There was no way I could explain being in here to Gus or Striker.

“If I was going to hide something, I’d hide it way in the back. I think we should start there and work our way forward.” Pepper picked up the pace, heading straight to the back of the building. I followed along a little slower. I was about halfway to the back when I smelled it. A pungent, oily smell, like paint. Not paint, though—turpentine.

“Over here.” I pointed and Pepper aimed her light in the direction I indicated. The light revealed a table covered with boxes. A tarp hung over the edge. We lifted the tarp and the flashlight reflected off of several silver cans with off-white colored labels. Grumbacher Turpentine.

“That’s the brand of turpentine Gus said was used in the fire,” Pepper said.

“I know. I think we found our evidence.”

“That’s great. But who can we tell? We can’t just call up Gus and tell her we broke in here and found it. She’d probably have us arrested.”

“I know and I can’t tell Striker, either. He’d be mad at me,” I said. “But I know someone we can tell who would love to have the evidence to solve the case and won’t get mad at us.”
 

We smiled at each other as we said the name in unison. “Jimmy.”

We’d worked with Gus’s Deputy Jimmy Ford before. In fact, I liked to think I’d helped him break his first case and gain confidence as a deputy. Pepper liked to think the confidence was from her tea. Either way, Jimmy wasn’t as straight-laced as Gus or Striker when it came to accepting the clues or our unorthodox methods.

Unlike them, he appreciated our tips, especially since we always let him get the credit for them. It was a win-win for all of us—Gus and Striker didn’t have to know about our extracurricular activities and Jimmy looked like a hero.

Pepper called him, then we made sure everything was exactly as it had been when we entered and waited for him to show up.
 

He pulled in with his headlights off.

“I can’t guarantee that George having turpentine will get him arrested,” Jimmy warned in a low voice as he got out of his car.

“We know. Maybe this will help.” I showed him the picture of Paisley and George and Jimmy let out a low whistle.

“She was blackmailing him?” he asked.

“Not for money. Or at least not that I know of. It was more for favors. Like a spot in the art show.”

Jimmy nodded. “We didn’t find any suspicious activity in her bank accounts.”
 

I held the picture out to him. “So, does the picture make it a better case?”

“Definitely.”
 

“What about that last picture on the camera you found with Paisley? Was that a picture of George?”

“We haven’t been able to recover the data from the camera yet.”

“But you think it could be a picture of the killer.”

“Could be. But with what you girls came up with, maybe we don’t need that. This should be good enough to bring him in. I'm not sure if Gus will charge him, but bringing him in is half the battle.”

My heartbeat picked up with excitement. It felt good to be closing in on Paisley’s killer.
 

“How will you say you got the picture, and knew to come here, though?” Pepper asked. She had a point. The evidence might be thrown out if it all wasn’t gained through proper channels.

“You said the picture came from her house?” he asked.

“Yep.” Neither of us mentioned Neil. If the police needed someone to testify that they'd seen George that morning, I'd talk to him and try to convince him to give it.

“Then I’m just gonna tell the truth. I got an anonymous tip telling me just where to look at Paisley’s and to come here. I did my due diligence and checked it out. We’ve been through her house once, but we still have access so it will all be on the up and up.” He tucked the picture in his pocket and patted it for good measure. “You girls leave everything to me.”

We left him to do his thing. I dropped Pepper off, then collected Pandora.
 

I felt pretty good as I headed home. Hopefully the police could prove George was the killer. I could get rid of Paisley’s ghost and Robert and Franklin would, hopefully, go back to normal. Plus I could forget about murder and fires and concentrate on selling books. Even Pandora had given me a break and not clawed the sofa to shreds.
 

I went home and slept like a baby.

Chapter Sixteen

Pandora wasn’t one to hold a grudge and she wasn’t a destructive cat by nature, so she didn’t ruin the arm of Willa’s purple couch. But she did leave Willa a hairball on the shelf under the counter where she usually rested her leg. Her whiskers twitched in amusement as she pictured the look on Willa’s face when she discovered it.

Pandora felt a momentary pang of guilt about the hairball when she realized Willa had been nice enough to leave the cat door open. Pandora slipped out as soon as Willa fell asleep, listening to it flap behind her as she ran off toward Elspeth’s barn.
 

Trotting through the woods, she breathed in the night air, listening to the familiar sounds of the night-time creatures—owls, peepers, deer. The familiar path was comforting. She’d run it so many times she could practically do it with her eyes closed. She emerged into the clearing of Elspeth’s yard and went straight to the barn, a bubble of triumph rising in her chest.
 

She’d show Otis.

Pandora pushed the door open a crack with her paw and peeked into the dark barn. Dozens of green, gold and blue eyes blinked back at her. Inkspot trotted toward her from the back of the barn.

“Do you bring us news of your mission?”

Pandora slid her eyes sideways to look at Otis, who was regarding her with a smug look on his face. “I do. I found the two-faced cat.”
 

A collective gasp rippled through the barn.

The cats leaned closer to Pandora. Inkspot’s whiskers twitched. He looked at her sideways. “But there is no such thing as a cat with two faces.”

“That’s where we were wrong. Sure, there aren’t any with two actual faces. Not any living, anyway. But I think the scrolls meant a different kind of cat. A chimera.”

“Ohhh …” Snowflake purred. She padded over to Pandora and sat beside her. “Yes, I know of that type of cat. It is a genetic variation that causes two distinct types of colorings, making the cat’s face appear to be split equally in color right down the middle of the nose.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Pandora said. “That describes the cat I saw. The one who was saved in the fire as a kitten.”
 

“Ahh, so your interpretation of the scrolls was correct after all,” Inkspot said.

Pandora’s chest puffed with pride. She slid a sideways glance at Otis. “Yes, it was.”

“Then we must bring this cat into the fold,” Inkspot instructed.

"That might be easier said than done,” Pandora said.
 

“Why is that?” Otis asked suspiciously. “Do you not know where the cat is?"

“Oh, I know where she is. I’ve spoken to her. Her name is Hope. But she does not get outside.”

“You mean her human has locked her indoors?” Kelley swished her furry Maine Coon tail in dismay. No cat wanted to be locked indoors.

“Not really indoors, per se. She’s on a porch. She said she couldn’t leave.”

“She has not discovered a route out?” Inkspot asked incredulously.

Most cats who were kept indoors were able to sneak out, unbeknownst to their owners. It was well known that humans thought they were keeping cats safe by locking them inside. It was an endearing quality in the humans, but one that the cats could not endure, so they tried to keep the peace and not offend the humans by pretending to stay indoors. Most cats had found clever escape routes in their home, just like Pandora’s getaway route in the basement.
 

“I don’t know if it’s so much that.” Pandora hesitated and looked around. “She seemed to have been kept there by another cat.”

“Another cat?” Kelly asked. “What kind of cat?”

“A white Persian named Fluff who, despite his angelic appearance, seems to be quite evil.”

Inkspot hissed. “Fluff?”

“I know, silly name, huh?” Pandora answered. “Do you know him?”

Inkspot nodded. “Indeed. He is very powerful. You’d best stay away from him.”

“Yeah, I felt his evil. He seems to have Hope imprisoned there. The human probably knows nothing of it.” Pandora’s whiskers twitched. “But Fluff must know that Hope is special.”

“He probably plans to turn her to his evil ways … if he has not already.” Snowball slitted her eyes at Pandora. “Did this chimera try any tricks with you? She might already be on the dark side.”

BOOK: A Mew to a Kill
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