Probable Paws (Mystic Notch Cozy Mystery Series Book 5) (10 page)

“She’ll go back to the property to try to find it. She’s made several attempts at searching the library, but I fear the book could be hidden anywhere on the property. It is large and could take a long time to search. Adelaide’s ghost is very vague about where she has hidden it,” Pandora said.

“Memory loss. The older humans all seem to have it. It takes a while for their ghosts to become clear.” The tiger cat with a splash of a white chest and matching white on her paw tips, who was cursed with the unimaginative name of “Kitty”, suggested.

“Not Elspeth,” Tigger defended his mistress.

“No, she is special,” Otis said. The rest of the cats nodded in agreement.

Inkspot moved into the center of the shaft of light and sat on his haunches to address the crowd. “It is time for us to help the humans now. We must help Willa locate the book. I need volunteers to travel to the Hamilton mansion by the light of the moon tomorrow night. We will use our seventh sense to home in on the location of the magical book. If it is truly a spell book, the vibration should be high, and our combined concentrations will allow us to pinpoint the location. But keep in mind, it may be dangerous. Fluff could be there. There could be others who wish harm on us.”

“I’ll go!”

“Me too!”

“Count me in!”

Meows came from every corner of the barn. All the cats volunteered. No one wanted to be left out of the special mission, no matter how dangerous.

Inkspot nodded his approval. “Very well, then.” He turned to Pandora. “I’m afraid that may be the easy part. Once we know the location, the future of Mystic Notch will rest on your ability to steer Willa toward it.”

T
he next day
, I saw Striker everywhere. I passed him in the morning on the way to the bookstore, I ran into him in
The Mystic Café,
where he was exiting as I was entering,
and he was in front of me when I ran an errand to drop off books at the senior center. Not to mention that I thought I saw him drive past the bookstore more than once.

I hoped he wasn’t following me, because I had big plans to scout out the cottage on the Hamilton estate, and I didn’t want Striker around to spoil them.

After work, I went home and made a light supper of saltines, cottage cheese, and grape tomatoes with some hot sauce on top for added zip. It was all I had in the house. Then I changed into black pants, a black shirt, and a black hoodie. The perfect outfit for skulking around at night. Oddly enough, Pandora made no attempt to come with me when I finally left the house well after dark. Maybe she’d had enough adventuring for one week.

I drove my Jeep to the Hamilton mansion, killing the headlights when I got to the dirt road and then driving past the cottage and parking my Jeep farther down the road so that there was no way anyone would see it from driving by on the main road. If I got caught and someone called Gus, I was going to be in deep trouble with her. Not to mention Striker.

I hopped over the stone wall and skirted the tree line all the way up the road to the cottage. The moon was full, which helped to light my way but also made me easier to spot. I pulled the hood up to cover my face and hair. Should I have worn gloves? My pale hands glowed like luminescent beacons in the moonlight, and I shoved them into my pockets.

The night was too warm for the hoodie, but I needed it for cover. It was quiet out here in the middle of nowhere, the only sounds the chirping of crickets and the rustling of a few nocturnal animals. And an occasional meow. Wait? Meow? Were some of the feral cats out here? I hoped not. It was far from the shelter that we’d fashioned for them at the church, and I worried about mountain lions and bobcats.

I stopped across the street from the cottage. I could see a green glow in one of the windows. Otherwise, it was dark. Was Max in there?

My eyes drifted out over the field, where the occasional glow of a firefly sparked. The full moon hung high in the sky, splashing blue on the white petals of the daisies. Would Evie be out there tonight, practicing her spells or worshipping the moon or doing whatever it was she did in the middle of the night?

The amber glow of lights flickered in the Hamilton mansion. I wondered who was in there and what they were doing. Was Lisa skulking around, looking for items to sell to Felicity? Something outside the mansion caught my eye. Small, dark triangular shadows sticking up here and there. They looked almost like cat ears. Dozens of them. Moving through the field and surrounding the house. I blinked, and they were gone. Must have been my imagination. There was no way that many cats would be out in the field.

My eyes drifted back to the cottage. If the library was still in there and contained the spell book, maybe I could get Max to sell it to me. But first, I had to find out if the book was even in there.

A cloud drifted in front of the moon, and the night grew darker. It was now or never. I dashed across the street, wading through the tall grass and then dropping and rolling when I got to the daisy field.

When I was safe in the shadows of the cottage, I stood and brushed myself off, plastering my back against the cold stone wall and inching my way toward the corner of the house. Elspeth had said Adelaide like to curl up in the window seat in the cottage, and I had spotted a long, low window in the back that would be perfect for just that. If that was where the library was, I could peek inside and see if the book was there.

I slithered around the corner.

A strong arm grabbed me. Panic seized my heart as I was crushed against a muscular chest, a hand clamped over my mouth!

I struggled, kicking back with my feet until a familiar voice whispered in my ear, “Stop it. It’s me.”

Striker?

I stopped kicking, and he let go. I whirled to face him. “What are
you
doing here?”

He pushed the hood off my head and then looked me up and down, frowning at my all-black outfit. “I could ask you the same question.”

There was barely an inch of space in between us. He must’ve just showered, because he smelled clean and musky. If it wasn’t for the stern look on his face, I would’ve been tempted to kiss him. I debated what to tell him. Now that Gus’s phone call had confirmed that Adelaide had been murdered, I could use that as an excuse for my snooping. I wouldn’t have to tell him about Adelaide’s ghost or the recipe book. He wouldn’t like that I was messing around in his murder investigation, but it was better than the alternative.

“There’s no use pretending,” I said. “I know Adelaide was murdered. Gus was in my store when she got the phone call. So I got to thinking about who would’ve murdered her. Obviously a family member. And then I was wondering, why was Max out here that night? He lives in the converted stable with his parents. I want to check out the cottage, see what he’s up to.”

“That’s trespassing.”

“Are you going to arrest me? You obviously must suspect him, too, or you wouldn’t be here investigating.”

Striker’s gaze dropped to my lips, and my heart flipped. Then he sighed and stepped away from me. “Fine. Let’s go see what there is to see.”

I didn’t waste time being disappointed about the non-kiss or wondering why he had given in so easily. Normally he would have sent me packing, not teamed up with me. We crouched down and scuttled over to the low window. I poked my head up, my nose resting on the windowsill as I gazed around the eyelet-lace curtain into the room.

Shoot! It wasn’t a library. It was a small country kitchen. The black-and-white-checked floor had seen better days, as had the scallop-trimmed, white-painted cupboards. The butcher-block counter held a variety of items. Green stoneware bowls, a clear glass pitcher, paper plates, take-out food boxes. But no recipe book.

“What are you doing here?” We spun around to see Max standing behind us. Where had he come from? I hadn’t heard him come up. Clearly I needed to work on my snooping skills, because I hadn’t noticed Striker lurking in the shadows either.

“We’re jus—”

“Why did you tell him?” Max interrupted me, jerking his chin at Striker. “I told you not to bring the police in.”

Striker slid his narrowed eyes over to me. “Tell me what, exactly?”

“I didn’t tell him. He just showed up here,” I said. “Anyway, you said I could come to you for help.” Okay, a little bit of a lie—I wasn’t technically coming to Max for help, but now that he was out here, maybe he
would
be helpful.

Max crossed his arms over his chest. “I said you could call my cell phone.”

“Are you going to invite us in?” Striker asked.

“No.”

“Why? Are you hiding something in there? I can come back with a warrant,” Striker said.

Max sighed and unfolded his arms. “Fine. Come on in.”

We followed him through the oak door with its rounded top, and I stopped short, staring at what was inside. I don’t know what I expected. Probably a cozy furnished cottage. But it looked more like the computer lab of a high-tech company. The main area was one big room, with a big stone fireplace at one end and a doorway to the kitchen on the other. It was dark, save for the moon-and-stars screen savers on the three gigantic computer screens and a variety of red and green LED lights that blinked from the fronts of various pieces of computer equipment.

Striker rammed into me then caught me from falling on my face. He let out a low whistle as he looked around. “Wow, this place looks like NASA. What the heck do you do in here?”

Max shrugged. “The usual. Gaming. Programming.”

Even someone not experienced in reading lies on people’s faces could tell he was lying.

“So, hacking...” Striker said.

Max’s face turned peevish. “Not maliciously…”

No wonder Max acted so strangely and didn’t want the cops involved.

“Did your grandmother know about this?” I asked. “Did you fight about it?” Maybe Adelaide wasn’t too happy about having illegal activities played out on her property. Maybe she confronted Max about it. Would he have killed her if she did? Maybe his visit to my bookstore, incriminating his relatives, was really just a way to deflect suspicion. Was it possible Adelaide’s death had nothing to do with the spell book?

Max shook his head, his eyes welling. “No. Gram was supportive. Well, maybe she didn’t like the hacking, but I never did anything bad.”

I walked over to the far wall, perusing the contents of a shelf. It was mostly computer equipment, technical manuals, and few old, broken china teacups. “Where are your grandmother’s things? My neighbor said she had this place fixed up nice, but all I see is computer equipment and broken stuff.”

Max’s eyes dropped to the floor. “She did have it set up nice, but the past few years—after she got sick—she didn’t come out here so much. That’s when she said I could use it. She hadn’t really used it in a long time anyway, and most of the stuff was from the big house that she was storing here. We moved most of it over to the historical society.”

My eyes narrowed. “Moved it, or sold it to Felicity Bates?”

Max screwed up his face. “Felicity Bates? No, she’s awful. I wouldn’t sell her anything.”

“That’s not how your stepmother feels. She seems to be acquiring quite a collection for Felicity.”

“That figures. I have a trust fund. I don’t need to sell things. And I sure as hell wouldn’t sell off family heirlooms. Gram always said to make sure it all stays in the family. I’d tell my dad, but he won’t stand up to Lisa.”

I crossed to the empty window seat, which was surrounded by built-in shelves. The shelves were empty. “And what about your grandmother’s books? Where are they?”

Max nodded at a brown water stain on the ceiling above the shelves. “Most of them got ruined. The ones that could be salvaged, I packed away and brought to the society.”

My stomach tightened. What if the spell book had been ruined? Would that be good or bad? If it had been thrown out or destroyed, that meant that Felicity, or anyone who wanted to use it for evil intent, couldn’t get their hands on it. But did that also mean that Adelaide would haunt me forever about it?

I continued my perusal of the room while Striker questioned Max about the morning Adelaide was found. He was also perusing the room as he talked. I was looking for the book, but what was Striker looking for? Evidence for Adelaide’s murder case? It seemed unlikely any would be in the cottage if she was killed in her bed. Maybe he thought Max had brought it here to hide it. I glanced out the window at the spot where I’d seen the earth disturbed the first night I’d been here. Had Max buried evidence there?

I spun from the window, only to bump into Striker. He’d made his way around the room but apparently didn’t find what he’d been looking for. Maybe I should tell him about the disturbed earth in the daisy field.

“I didn’t have anything to do with my grandmother’s death, if that’s what you guys are looking for. I told you, Aunt Josie lied about being there that morning, so why aren’t you interrogating her?” Max asked.

“What do you mean she lied?” Striker asked.

Max shot me a look. “You really didn’t tell him?”

“No.”

“Tell me what?” Striker frowned at me. I was in trouble.

“My surveillance camera caught Aunt Josie leaving the house early that morning. Before Gram was … discovered.” Max choked out the last word then continued. “Later on she claimed she’d been in the house, asleep in the library, the whole time. Why would she lie if she wasn’t guilty?”

“Good question,” Striker answered Max but was staring at me. “It would have been nice to know that before.”

My cheeks flamed. I probably should have told him, but I’d promised Max, and I didn’t like to go back on my word. “Sorry.”

Max sat down at the leather office chair in front of the monitors, and his fingers tapped on the keys, bringing the monitors to life. “Well, if you guys are done, I’d like to get back to my game. I bet my buddy that I could make it past the dungeon and into level five tonight.”

“We’re done.” Striker grabbed my elbow and propelled me toward the door. “If you think of anything else that might be of interest, let me know.”

“Just what were you looking for in there?” Striker asked once we were outside.

“What were you?”

“Evidence.”

“Did you see any?”

“No, but if I’d known about Josie, maybe I would have gone over there first.” Striker jerked his head toward the Hamilton house as he dragged me away from the cottage. “You do realize that not telling me about that could be considered obstruction of justice. Maybe even aiding and abetting a criminal.”

“Sorry, Max made me promise.” I glanced at the daisy field as he pulled me past. “But there is something I can tell you that might help.”

“What?”

“When I was here the other night, Pandora was digging in one spot…and it looked to me like that spot had been disturbed before.”

Striker stopped short, his gaze swinging to the daisy field. “Where?”

I led him over to the spot. It was hard to tell what was from Pandora digging and what had been there before. Since it had been a few days, the daisies had sprung back up. “It was here. The flowers were all trampled.”

Striker took out his flashlight and aimed it on the spot. He scuffed some of the dirt with the toe of his boot. “It’s hard to tell when this happened.” He glanced back at the cottage. “Do you think Max knows something’s buried out here? He did come out and warn you off when he saw you here.”

“I’m not sure. He said there was a time capsule, but that’s hardly anything to worry about. He seems like a nice kid, and Adelaide …”

“What about Adelaide?”

I had been about to say Adelaide had said he was a good kid, but I couldn’t tell Striker that. “Umm… she let him use the cottage. It might not have been him that buried it, though. I thought I saw wheelchair tracks coming from the mansion.”