Lejgann Dobbs - A Twist In The Tail. A Whisker In The Dark. A Purrfect Alibi

1. A TWIST IN THE TAIL

One

I should have known by the unsettling tone of the cats meows that disaster was looming. Of course, at the time I was more worried about how the guests liked breakfast. It was only the fourth one Id served since officially becoming owner of the Oyster Cove Guesthouse.

They seemed to be enjoying it. Now, dont get me wrong, it was nothing fancy. Bacon, scrambled eggs, sausage, and lemon poppy seed muffins were the extent of my culinary expertise. Quite frankly, I might have misjudged whether my cooking skills were up to par when entering into this agreement. Maybe I should have read the fine print in the documents Id received from Millie Sullivan, the elderly former owner.

Even though the breakfasts werent five-star cuisine, I hadnt had any complaints from my first batch of guests. Well, all except one. Charles Prescott. He was the reason I was now hovering in the doorway holding an antique egg cup with a perfectly warm soft-boiled egg nestled inside.

Charles had complained about his egg yesterday. It was too cold. He was quite loud about it, too. Since I aimed to please, this morning I had perfectly timed the egg for his pre-announced 8 am arrival in the dining room. It was now 8:05 where was Charles?

My eyes scanned the room just in case Id missed him. But my guest count totaled five, including Charles, and four were seated and already digging into their breakfast. It was easy to tell who was there and who was not, even in such an enormous room.

Several small dining tables with white linen tablecloths sat atop a massive moss-green and gold oriental rug. Curtains in a complimentary green and gold silk framed the ten-foot-tall windows that offered a birds-eye view of the sparkling Maine Atlantic ocean and craggy rocks of Oyster Cove. It was summer, and Florawho I was coming to realize was the worlds worst maidhad opened one window. A soft breeze fluttered the drapes and carried in the salty scent of the ocean and the cry of gulls in the distance or was that the cats?

Ron and Iona Weatherby sat a small table located by the window. The adorable elderly couple had binoculars dangling from their necks and cameras at their sides. Ron was slathering the muffin with butter while Iona picked daintily at the fluffy scrambled eggs. They were a delightful couple who had come here for birdwatching and photography. Perfect guests with no complaints.

Near the buffet, Ava Grantham sat alone at a table for four. Ava was in her mid-60s. A society columnist, she was a thin, bird-like woman who noticed everything that went on. She was pleasant enough to talk to and told me shed been vacationing in Oyster Cove since she was a child, even staying at the Oyster Cove Guesthouse a few times when Millie owned it. Her plate was loaded with scrambled eggs, bacon and sausages. I wondered how she stayed so thin.

Over by the door was the fourth guest, Tina Reeves. She was younger than the others, probably in her mid-30s, a bubbly blonde with wide blue eyes. She said shed come to visit relatives, but I had suspicions that she had another agenda, of what I just wasnt exactly sure. Nor did it matter. As long as the guests paid the bill, I didnt care what they were up to. Tina had flawless skin and a figure like an hourglass, and no wonder. She only had about a tablespoon of scrambled eggs and three blueberries on her plate.

Still no sign of Charles. I was just deciding what to do about the rapidly cooling egg in my hand when I heard the front door open. Maybe Charles had gone out for a walk before breakfast? I backed up and stuck my head into the hallway.

Darn! It wasnt Charles. It was Barbara Littlefield, the town building inspector, and the last person I wanted to deal with right now. Shed been a thorn in my side ever since I started renovations on the old mansion. Nothing I did pleased her, and shed already fined me for two violations that a nicer person would have overlooked. It was too late to duck back into the dining room. Shed already spotted me and was marching down the hall toward me, a sour look on her face. I stepped into the hallway to head her off so she didnt disrupt the guests breakfasts.

Barbara, how lovely to see you, I lied.

Barbaras scowl deepened. I just came to double-check the permit for the gazebo outside and I noticed

Merow!

Barbara jerked her head toward the dining room.Do you have cats in the dining room?

I stepped aside to let her see in.Of course not.

Good, because that would be a health code violation.

Merooo!

Was it my imagination or were the cats cries getting louder and more insistent?

Barbara frowned down the hallway, where it sounded like the cats latest cry had come from. Wait a minute. That sounded like it was coming from the kitchen. Thats even worse!

Barbara stormed down the hall. I hurried after her, still balancing the egg cup in my hand. Some things are more important than Charles Prescott and his egg like making sure the board of health didnt shut me down for having animals in the kitchen.

Its not coming from the kitchen. At least, I hoped it wasnt. It actuallywas coming from that direction, but I was pretty sure it was from the West wing of the mansion, which had been closed off for extensive renovations. Not that the cats didnt hang around in the kitchenthey did. I just hoped they werent in there right now.

I think youre right. Barbara stopped and frowned at me. I thought I made it clear that decrepit wing was supposed to be closed down so no one could get in there.

See what I mean? I just couldnt win with this woman. Youd think shed be happy the cats werent in the kitchen, but no, shed found something else to complain about.

Itis blocked off. To people. Cats are sneaky and can get into anything. Couldnt they? I wasnt exactly sure. Id only owned the guesthouse, and, thus, the cats, for a short time, and had no idea what those furry little monsters could get up to. Theyd been fairly well-behaved so far, but the way they stared at me with their luminous, intelligent eyes always made me feel like they were up to something behind my back. I didnt have much experience with cats, but Millie had assured me they made great companions. Thus far, Id been too busy learning the ropes of running the guesthouse to spend time getting to know them.

Feelings of guilt crept in. I promised Millie I would take good care of the cats, but judging by the sounds of their meows, they were in some sort of distress. I hoped one of them hadnt found its way into the closed-off wing and been hurt. It was a mess in there, and not safe.

Mee-yow!

We continued down the hall. It felt like it was taking a long time to traverse, but that was because it really was quite long. The placewasa mansion after all. Gigantic. It had been built by shipping magnet Jedediah Biddeford 300 years ago. Id bought it from Millie Sullivanmy mothers best friendwhose family had owned it for the last 125 years. Judging by the looks of the West wing, that was the last time that section of the house had been updated too. Dont even get me started on the condition of the caretakers cottageand carriage house.

The cats were really starting to caterwaul now, and I was getting worried. Barbara surged ahead of me, then stopped at the doorway to the West wing and turned to scowl at me.

I thought you said this was blocked off. She gestured toward the door, which was cracked open. I swore Id locked it shut several days ago.

The large black and white tuxedo cat, Nero, stood in the doorway looking up at me with his striking green eyes, as if to askwhat took you so long? The tortie, Marlowe, rubbed her face on my ankle. At least they werent hurt, even though the thought of hurting them myself for causing all this trouble did briefly cross my mind.

I dont know how this got open. Maybe the handyman? The handyman was Millies nephew, Mike Sullivan. Id known he was bad news since fifth grade and would never have engaged his services, but Millie had hired him to fix some things up before Id bought the guesthouse. The work was already paid for and I couldnt afford to turn that down. I couldnt wait to get rid of him, though. Hes probably working in here. Ill check.