Pandora was down in the dumps. She’d tried to nap for a few hours, but her loss of ability to communicate with the other cats had hit her hard. Striker hadn’t revealed anything concrete, Franklin and Robert were no help as to who could have stolen the key, and the bookstore regulars’ memories about the argument between Felicity and Sarah Delany were suspect. Things were not going well. Not well at all.
She glanced over at Willa, who was standing at the counter typing on her laptop. She had her new reading glasses on but was adjusting the angle of her head and squinting. Probably doing the infernal inventory that seemed to be never-ending with this business.
Why was she fiddling around with book inventory when they had a lead to talk to? Mary’s neighbor might have seen or heard something that the police wouldn’t take notice of. Maybe a ghostly sound or eerie lights. And Pandora wanted to inspect the scene of the crime. The police would have removed all the normal clues, but maybe she could find some paranormal ones.
“Why are you messing about with that? We need to find Mary’s neighbor and start asking some questions.” Pandora did her best downward dog stretch so she could be limber for the interrogation.
Willa’s fingers stilled. She gritted her teeth and gave Pandora a forced smile. Uh-oh. Maybe she should have been less forceful. “For your information, I was just looking up Mary’s address so I could search for who else lives on that street.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s smart.” Pandora hoped her compliment would make up for the snarky remark.
“Mary lives—lived—on Maple, and I think that’s where Jennifer Jones lives. Let me look in my customer database.” Willa typed in a few strokes and hit return. “Yep. We’re in luck. Jennifer is a good customer, and I know how we can get an excuse to talk to her.”
“How?” Despite Pandora’s impatience, she was impressed at Willa’s sleuthing skills and grateful that she’d taken her warning about the key to heart.
“I’ll show you.” A few mouse clicks later, the printer whirred to life. Willa pulled the paper off and held up a giant fifty-percent-off coupon. “I’m going to personally deliver a coupon to her in appreciation for her patronage. Not too many people are going to question fifty percent off.”
“Good idea.” Pandora hopped out of her bed and headed for the door. “Let’s get a move on. There’s no time to lose.”
* * *
Jennifer Jones was a middle-aged busybody who lived in a small cape with a weed-strewn front yard. The curtains pulled across her living room window twitched as soon as I pulled in.
“Looks like Jennifer keeps a watch on the street. This might be our lucky break,” Pandora said. She looked like she was ready to leap across me and out of the car as soon as I opened the door. Showing up at someone’s front door with my pet cat felt awkward.
“I think you should stay here,” I said.
“What, and miss all the fun?”
“It might put Jennifer off to see a cat standing beside me.” I also didn’t want to have to try to block out the incessant questions I knew Pandora would be trying to feed me.
“I’m not going to Jennifer’s. I’m going to sniff around the crime scene.” Pandora jerked her head down the street, where we could see another small house with yellow crime scene tape on the front door.
“Oh, right. Good idea.”
I opened the door, and we both got out.
“Don’t forget to ask about paranormal sights and sounds,” she called over her shoulder as she trotted down the road. I was beginning to realize it was just like her to try to get the last bossy word in.
I made my way to Jennifer’s peeling door and knocked.
After a few seconds, Jennifer answered, looking confused. “Willa Chance from the bookstore?”
“Hi, Jennifer.” I thrust the coupon out. “I was just delivering some coupons for my best customers.”
She took the coupon and looked at it with suspicion. “By hand? You couldn’t just mail them?”
“I like to give the personal touch.”
“Okay. Thanks.” She stepped back as if she was going to close the door, and I had to think quick.
“I had one for Mary, too, but then I heard the awful news.”
Her eyes flicked down the road toward Mary’s house. “Yes, terrible thing. I hate to think of a killer loose on the street.”
“Don’t worry, my sister won’t let that happen for long.”
“I’m keeping my doors locked and shades drawn.”
“Can’t blame you. It’s scary when it hits close to home. Were you here when it happened?”
Jennifer tugged her cardigan around her. “I believe so. Apparently, it happened in broad daylight. Your sister asked me if I heard anything around three, and it gave me the willies because I was home at that time.”
Aha! So, the time of death was three. I had learned something about the murder already. “Terrifying. I’m glad you didn’t see or hear anything. That wouldn’t be a memory you’d want.”
“No indeed.”
“But it’s so quiet here. I’m surprised you didn’t hear anything. I imagine you might have heard something even if maybe you didn’t realize it was Mary.”
Jennifer’s eyes narrowed. “Did your sister send you here? That’s pretty similar to what she asked me.”
“Oh no, just wondering. Gus would never send me to ask questions. I was just thinking that if you saw some weird lights or heard a ghostly noise, that would be something that would haunt you.” I actually had no idea what noises or sights one might see with a paranormal murder, but I supposed it would depend on the murder method. Since Mary had been bludgeoned, maybe there was nothing paranormal to be seen.
“Yeah. I guess it’s a good thing there were no sounds.” She glanced warily down the street. “Mary was a nice neighbor. Kept to herself. And I liked her blog. I made a few of her recipes from it, you know.”
“Oh, really? She had just gotten a recipe book from my store.”
“She was becoming more popular. Josie Martin was even here doing an article on her for the Gazette yesterday too. I saw her drive by.”
“Such a shame she’ll never see that.”
“It is.” Jennifer cast another glance down the street. “Well, thanks for the discount. I’ll be in to the store soon.”
I wracked my brain for a way to keep her talking just in case there was something more I could learn, but I didn’t even know what to ask, and she closed the door pretty fast.
“You’re welcome,” I said to the closed door.
My phone pinged as I headed back to the car. It was Steve Wheeler, who was at my house waiting for me. Darn it! I’d been so busy with the realization I could talk to my cat and that the town was about to be ruined that I’d forgotten to cancel the appointment to look at my bathroom. Maybe we could swing by the house on the way to the shop. I got into the car and drove the short distance to Mary’s to see if I could find Pandora. Hopefully, she’d had better luck than I did.
* * *
Pandora trotted under the crime scene tape and up to the house. She sniffed the front doorway then all around the foundation. She was looking for the smell of magic. Even though the murder had happened yesterday, the residual smell of magic should be here if Mary was killed paranormally.
She didn’t smell magic out front, just fear, jealousy, and cinnamon muffins.
She made her way out back, detecting the faint aroma of freshly tilled earth and lavender with just the tiniest bit of burning hair. The scent of magic, and not the good kind either.
She didn’t find any clues as to whose magic, though. If she could only get inside, she might find something, but the house was locked up tight. Maybe she could see something through one of the windows, but they were too high for her to see into.
She heard a rustle behind her and spun around, her blood freezing when she saw a fluffy white cat emerging from the woods at the edge of the property.
“What are you doing here?” Fluff asked.
“What are you?” she shot back. Wait, she could understand him? Maybe her inability to talk to cats had only been temporary. If that were true, then maybe she’d be able to hear the barn cats.
Please, for the love of Bastet, don’t let it be that I can only hear Fluff.
“I asked first.” Fluff ventured into the yard.
“I’m investigating the scene of the crime,” Pandora said. “What are you doing here?”
“Same.”
“Trying to make sure that there's no evidence incriminating your mistress?” Pandora asked.
“You think Felicity did this?” Fluff shook his head and started sniffing a rhododendron.
“She's the obvious suspect. Everyone knows she's a witch.”
Fluff puffed out his tail in pride. "Really? Some question that, but while it's true, she's not looking for the key for the reasons you might think."
"You mean to wreak havoc on Mystic Notch? Those reasons?”
“Why would she want to do that? We live here. Her motivations might surprise you."
"No doubt." Pandora hissed.
Fluff sighed and hung his head. "I know Felicity has done some bad things, but this time it isn’t about any of that."
"Like I would believe anything you say.” Pandora turned her attention back to the house. If only she could get up to that window.
"This time you can."
Pandora whirled around. "Really? Aren't you the one that almost burned me and Hope to death in the shed? Hasn't your mistress been trying to wreak havoc in the town for years? And aren't you collecting the items on Hester Warren’s list?” Pandora asked. "Come to think of it, where is that list?"
"We've only got part of it. But we weren’t going to use items for anything bad. Felicity just wants to be in power. She is misunderstood." Fluff blinked, and Pandora thought she saw a tear in his eye. "And so am I."
"I know this is one of your tricks, so you can stop the act."
"Sadly, it is not a trick. My mistress is desperate. She needs the key, or her time may be limited."
Something about the tremulous tone of Fluff’s voice gave Pandora pause. She studied him with fresh eyes. His fur was dull, his whiskers droopy. And were those real tears coming out of his eyes?
No. She could not feel sympathetic toward him. This was just one of his tricks.
“You gave yourself away because you mentioned the key. How do you even know about that?" Pandora asked.
"We have our ways. We know what was in the recipe book, and Mary must have had it." Fluff narrowed his eyes. "That's why you're here, to see if the book and key are still here, isn't it?"
"Maybe." Pandora didn't need to tell him about the missing key. She knew better than to give away that vital information. “What evil do you plan to do with it?”
As Fluff stared at her, his whole being seemed to deflate. She sensed he was mulling over whether to tell her something, but was it a lie or the truth?
"We don't plan to do evil. My mistress needs the key to open the portal."
"Aha! So that's your plan, to let all kinds of demons and other undesirable creatures out."
"No, no!" Fluff shook his head violently. "She needs it because she has been the victim of a potion gone wrong."
Pandora could identify with that. "And what potion might that be?"
"Some sort of potion that humans like to make them more viable. That is why I am here without her. She is very ill.” Fluff sniffed. "I fear she doesn't have much time left."
“So, you hope to find the key here?” Pandora had a sudden pang of sympathy for Fluff. She almost felt bad not cluing him in on the fact that the key wasn’t here.
“I fear the key is no longer here. I was hoping to get a peek inside to determine who had done this. Assuming they succeeded in their mission to get the key from Mary, I will need to track them.”
“I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. The place is locked up tighter than a drum.”
Fluff eyed the window. “Maybe we don’t need to actually go inside.”
“The windows are too high.”
"Maybe we can help each other." Fluff trotted over to the window, looking up at it. "The window is too high to jump to from the ground level, but if you are a little higher, perhaps you could look in.”
“How would that happen?"
Fluff squared off under the window. "Get on my back, and perhaps you can jump up enough to hang on to the sill."
Pandora was skeptical. She'd been fooled by Fluff before, but how could it do any harm? She would be standing on his back, not the other way around. And she really, really wanted to see inside.
Bounding up onto him, she coiled her back legs and sprang off his back, unsheathing her front claws and reaching toward the windowsill. The sharp tips dug into the wood, her back claws grappling on the siding to boost herself up so she could look inside.
The house was a mess. She was a little dismayed at the way the police had left it. Maybe she'd have Willa talk to Gus or Striker about that. She could see a bloodstain on the carpet where Mary had fallen. There must have been a struggle, because things were knocked over. But the thing that shocked her the most was the old cookbook. It lay on the floor with all the pages ripped out and the binding torn. That proved it. Whoever had killed Mary had been looking for the key.