A Mew to a Kill (10 page)

I made a mental note to talk to Pepper and see if she wanted to pay a little visit to Neil Lane. “How did he seem? What was he doing there?”

“He was checking his post office box.” Josiah twisted his lips. “He’s kind of an odd duck, anyway, but now that you mention it, he did seem right upset. He dropped the post office box key several times and was cussing like crazy about it. Out of sorts, even for him.”

“I’d watch out for him, Willa,” Cordelia warned. “He might be dangerous.”

“Yeah, don’t go getting any ideas about confronting him,” Hattie said.

I sipped my coffee to avoid replying.
 

Bing stood and tossed his cup into the trash. “Well, until we know a little bit more about what really happened and how Paisley died, we’re just speculating. We don’t have enough information to come up with any ideas much less question potential suspects.” He looked at me. “Which you shouldn’t be doing, anyway. This stuff is best left to the police.”

The others finished their coffee and stood up. Bing was right, but not about leaving stuff to the police—I needed to find out more about the crime. I needed a solid clue. If I knew more about the fire, I might be able to piece it together better. There was one person who was there that morning and might have more information–Myrna.

***

Paisley still hadn’t showed up by lunchtime and I was getting annoyed. I locked up, promising Pandora some tuna if she didn’t wreck the place, and headed went down to the
Mystic Café
. It was bustling with customers. Myrna was behind the counter. I stepped up and ordered a tuna on rye with extra pickles and Myrna scribbled it on a pad with her number two pencil and slapped it onto a metal revolving holder which she turned to face Bud in the kitchen.

“You got a minute?” I gave Myrna my most pleading look.
 

She sighed and shoved the order pad into the pocket of her vintage, cherry-patterned apron. “I guess I could spare a few. But not too long, I got a lot of customers.” She jerked her head toward the hallway that led to the back door of the shop and I followed her.

I got right to the point. “Striker said you called in the fire down at Paisley’s.”
 

Myrna’s right brow ticked up. “Yeah. When I came into work yesterday, I noticed the smoke.”

“That must have been scary. What time was that?”

Myrna puckered her cherry red lips together and tapped the eraser end of her pencil on them. “Well, I usually get in around five. I didn’t see anything at first. There were no flames, but when I went out back to the dumpster, I noticed smoke billowing from down that way.

I stepped outside the door and looked down toward the photography shop. From where I stood, I could see the backs of the shops that lined this side of Main Street. Each of them had a small parking lot and a dumpster. One of the shops had a fence around their lot, obscuring the view to Paisley’s lot. If the killer had been lurking in back of Paisley’s, Myrna wouldn’t have been able to see him. “Did you see anyone or notice anything unusual?”

“Not really. I couldn’t see much, just the smoke. And I heard her alarm.”

“There was an alarm?”
 

“Yeah. I mean, all the shops have to have them, right. Except hers sounded weird. I think it was broken because it just made a chug-chug noise. Sounded like that car in the movies that my kids liked a long time ago.”

I felt a tingle of excitement. “You mean Chitty Chitty Bang Bang”?

Her face lit up. “Yeah, that’s the one. But it didn’t last long. It kind of faded off after a bit.”

“Did you see anyone hanging around or pass anyone while you were driving in to work?”

“Striker asked me the same thing. I don’t remember passing any cars. I’m sure I would remember because that time of morning is pretty dead around here.” She blanched, then shrugged. “Sorry, bad choice of words.”

It was true. No one drove around downtown at five in the morning. Myrna was the only one who came in early to set up for the breakfast crowd. She probably would have noticed pretty easily if anyone was around. The killer must have already set the fire and left by then … or been driving away in his Chitty Chitty Bang Bang car just as she was noticing the smoke.

Bud poked his head in the hallway and yelled, “Tuna on rye!”
 

“I guess that’s my cue. I’ll let you get back to work.”

I was turning to go out to the front to get my sandwich and pay when Myrna stopped me. “You know, there was something odd I noticed that morning and I didn’t think of it until just now.”

“What was that?”

“When I was driving into town, I passed Witt Realty and noticed there was a light on inside that old chicken coop they use for storage. Which is strange because the parking lot was empty. I figured someone must have left the lights on and I got a good chuckle at how mad George was gonna be. You know what a miser he is. He’s pretty strict about making sure the lights are all off at night.”

“Is that odd for them to have a light on that early?”

“Oh, sure. George doesn’t open up until nine or ten. There’s no way he’d be in that early.”

***

I hurried back to the bookstore, excited about what I’d found out from Myrna. I texted Pepper and we agreed to close up our shops early and head out to Neil Lane’s before going over to talk to Opal. I debated whether we should make a stop at George’s office on the way.
 

The real estate office was an old converted farmhouse. The original outbuildings were on the premises and had been fixed up to look like miniatures of the main house. Maybe George was hiding evidence there and that’s why Myrna had seen lights on? Plenty of people that worked at the real estate company had access to those buildings—he could easily say whatever was there wasn’t his.
 

I plopped down on the couch to eat my sandwich. Pandora spied the sandwich wrapper in my hand and weaved her way over to me, rubbing against the edges of the chairs along the way and leaving short, gray silver-tipped hairs all over them. She looked up at me, her teeth clacking together just like they do when she’s looking longingly out the window at birds.

“This is fish, not bird.” I ripped off a corner of the wrapper and put a smidge of tuna on it. Her paw shot up and skewered my hand, bringing the treat down toward her mouth before I had a chance to put it on the floor.
 

“Sheesh. Have some patience.”

“Patience is a virtue. Too bad I don’t have it.” Paisley’s ghost scared the bejesus out of me and I jerked in my seat. She laughed, then turned serious. “And I’m running out of patience with finding my killer. What have you got so far?”

“I’ve been looking for you. I need your help. Where have you been?”
 

“I was out back cavorting with Bobby and Frankie.”

I screwed up my face. Just how many ghosts did I have in the shop? “Bobby and Frankie?”
 

“Yeah, turns out they’re a lot of fun for old guys. She wiggled her brows and I realized she was talking about Robert Frost and Franklin Pierce. I didn’t want to know what she meant by ‘fun’.

“So, anyway, I wanted to ask you about your brother.”

Her eyes widened. “Did something happen to Kenny?”

“No.” I studied her out of the corner of my eye. “Are you guys on speaking terms? I never heard you mention him.”

“Well, it’s not like you and I were besties,” Paisley said.
 

She had a point.
 

She continued. “Kenny and I weren’t exceptionally close, but we were getting closer. Kenny had a lot of problems when he came back from Afghanistan. Drugs. Post-traumatic stress. Our folks are dead so it’s just him and me. I’d moved to Mystic Notch when he was overseas and he came and looked me up after he got back. I was trying to help him. He wouldn’t have hurt me.”

“What if he needed money for drugs?”

She shook her head violently. Drops of mist sprayed off in all directions, causing Pandora to run for cover. “No, Kenny's clean now. He's doing great. He's a sweet boy, really. But he doesn't have good social skills with people since the army … he's gentle with animals, though, so I know he doesn't have it in him to kill because he's a huge animal lover just like I am. He's been cleaning up his act and even got a room at the halfway house across from St. Vincent's." Her face turned sad. "I hope my death won't set him back."

I decided to let it go. It was obvious Paisley wouldn't hear anything bad about her brother, so there was no sense in pursuing it, even if I did have my doubts. “Did your memory come back about that night? Do you remember why you were there or who was with you?”

“I did remember one thing. I got an anonymous note to meet someone there at nine. That’s why I was working late.”

“It wasn’t signed?”

“No, that’s why I said it was anonymous.” She drew the last word out and gave me a sarcastic look.

“Was it George?”

“I don’t think so. He left around seven-thirty.”

“Did you recognize the writing?”

 
“No.”

“Maybe it was your brother.”

“No. Kenny wouldn’t leave me a weird note like that.”

Unless he was trying to lure you there to surprise you and kill you
, I thought, then decided to take another line of questioning.
 

“Do you remember anything about taking a picture? The police think you might have taken one before you died. It could be a picture of the killer.”

Paisley squeezed her eyes shut. “No, I don’t remember a thing … wait … there is something. I remember something about brown tweed. I remember because it was such a fashion faux pas. I mean, who wears brown tweed in summer?”
 

“Does George have a brown tweed suit?” Who wears a suit to kill someone?

Paisley shrugged. “I don’t know. I mostly saw him with his suit off.”

I pushed my tuna sandwich aside. I didn’t have much of an appetite anymore.

“This doesn’t make much sense. You got a note to meet with someone at nine, but the fire wasn’t started until early in the morning. Myrna saw it at five and it hadn’t been burning long. So, whoever you met at nine, couldn’t have been the killer.”

“Or they came back.”

“But what were
you
doing there at five in the morning? You didn’t usually come in that early, did you?”

“Not usually, but sometimes I might stop by to pick up a camera lens or something if I wanted to take some sunrise photos.”
 

“I feel like we’re just going around in circles now.”

“Right. So, is George the only suspect?”
 

“Well, other than Kenny and Neil Lane.”

“Neil Lane?” Paisley looked shocked. “What’s
he
got to do with it?”

“You beat him out of the art slot. He could have won twenty thousand … and now that you are no longer around, he’ll probably get that slot in the art show.”

“Oh. I didn’t think of it that way." She frowned, then shook her head. "But I'm sure Neil wouldn’t have done it.”

“How do you know that? Do you know him?”

“Umm … no. Not really. He just doesn’t seem the type.”

“Well, Hattie said he had a temper and someone else saw his car driving the back road that morning. In my book, he’s as good a suspect as George.”
 

“Is there evidence either one of them were actually at my shop?”
 

“I’m not sure what the police found…” My voice trailed off as I thought about the charm. I didn’t think Neil would have a charm like that, or George or Kenny. But the charm didn’t really prove anything. Lots of people walked down that alley. I found myself wondering if Maisie wore a charm bracelet.
 

“If you don’t know what the cops have for evidence, then you haven’t been working that cute boyfriend of yours properly. I saw you two kissing out on the street there. Now, if that were me, I’d have him twisted so tight around my finger he’d be blurting information out left and right.” She looked me up and down. “Maybe if you didn’t wear those over-sized shirts he’d be more forthcoming with his information."

I looked down at myself. It was true. I did favor loose fitting T-shirts but in my line of work, I often found myself rummaging through boxes of books in basements and attics. Loose T-shirts and jeans were the best things to wear for that sort of activity.
 

Paisley continued on, “And maybe a skirt like your friend Pepper. She always looks cute. And you might consider putting on a touch more makeup…”

I zoned Paisley’s voice out as she droned on with fashion advice. I didn’t have to listen to her advice about what to wear or how to put on makeup and I certainly didn’t have to listen to it about who to investigate. She might not think that her brother or Neil Lane would kill her, but I didn’t agree. I was going to investigate Kenny, Neil
and
George, no matter what Paisley said.

Chapter Ten

Later that day, I closed up early and met Pepper at my car. She was wearing a blue skirt that came just above the knees. It did look pretty cute, but it wouldn’t look as good on me—the big scar running down my leg might ruin it.