Holmes set his burger down. “What are you saying?”
“I’m not sure. It seems like it fits in with the other things the judge may have invented. They put the wrong flowers on my wife’s grave and now my dog is gone, too. Oh, woe is me.”
“I see what you’re getting at. All cries for help?”
“Someone said to me that the hardest time after a death is when everyone goes back to their normal lives, except for the spouse, who goes home to an empty house, and every single thing he or she touches and sees reminds the spouse of the person that’s gone. That it’s painfully quiet, and suddenly they’re completely alone.”
“I can see that. There’s the big funeral. The whole family comes, everyone is concerned about the bereaved spouse, and, whoosh, it’s over and you’re all alone. The judge could have been overwhelmed and then felt that loneliness when everyone went home.”
“Maybe. It doesn’t solve Seth’s murder, but have you noticed that not a soul has suspected the judge? He could have been anywhere that night. He could have even set the fire at Dovie’s as a diversion.”
“You think he’s gone completely looney. But why murder Seth when he had been hired to find Fritz?”
I raised my eyebrows at Holmes.
“I see. You’re suggesting that Fritz wasn’t really missing. It was a ruse to bring Seth to Wagtail. Besides, he would have had to plan the murder well in advance to have the aconite ready in a syringe.”
“No question about that,” I said. “No matter who killed Seth, that person came prepared. There wasn’t any time to find and pick aconite and prepare that syringe. And he or she certainly didn’t get into a squabble and kill him in the heat of the moment. All that was carefully planned. The judge would know exactly what to do and how to get away with it.”
“You think the judge murdered Seth to avenge Bobbie’s death,” said Holmes.
I sat back in my chair and munched on a French fry.
“I spent quite a while with Dave this morning. He says the WAG women are sticking together. He thinks they know more than they’re saying to protect one of their own.” Holmes picked up a pickle slice that had fallen off his burger onto his plate and popped it in his mouth.
“They think one of them murdered Seth. They must suspect Brenda,” I said. “She’s the one who went back to the house. She, her dog, Fagan, and Seth all had meringue on them. I know that’s not proof that she murdered him, but she must have been close to him to get the meringue on him. That would be hard to dispute. Plus, she has a whopper of a motive.”
“Do you think she killed Seth?” asked Holmes.
“I like all of the WAG Ladies. They’re an eclectic group, but they’re all nice. In a weird way, I even admire their loyalty to one another. I don’t know about Brenda. She’s afraid of her own brother. Maybe she was afraid of Seth, too.”
“Do you think there’s any chance that Brenda’s brother, Wallace, is in town?” asked Holmes.
“It’s interesting that you ask about Wallace. When I stopped by to see Louisa this morning, a man came out of her room as I was arriving.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. He could be Louisa’s brother.”
“Absolutely. But she flushed red when I walked in, which made me wonder if it was an awkward moment for her. Maybe she didn’t want anyone to see him? I wouldn’t know what Wallace looks like in any event.”
After our late lunch, Holmes went home for a nap, and I retreated to my own quarters to sleep. I should have been thinking about the murder, but I was beat. Trixie and Twinkletoes accompanied me, and I noticed that neither of them was scampering ahead. We were all pooped.
I woke a couple of hours later, much refreshed. It was close to dinnertime. When I walked down the grand staircase, the lobby was empty. The dining area was closed, and the inn was quiet. Trixie and Twinkletoes seemed to have a little more spring in their steps. We strolled through the hallway to the reception lobby. The office door was open, and I peeked inside.
Oma sat on her little patio, looking out at the lake.
Trixie sped to her and wiggled with excitement. Gingersnap greeted me by leaning against me and wagging her tail.
“How is Rose?” I asked.
“She’ll recover. She is very upset that the police could even imagine that she tried to harm anyone.”
“Mae brought them basil,” I said.
Oma snorted. “Basil looks nothing like wolfsbane.”
“How does Rose think the wolfsbane got into the salad?”
“There were only three other people present that evening. It has to be one of them,” said Oma.
“Since only two of them got sick, it would have been added to the plates shortly before they ate. Right?”
“That seems logical to me.”
“Is there any possibility that they left the salad for a moment? Maybe it was in the kitchen and they went into the conservatory or stepped outside?” I asked.
“Clearly they must have. But it’s most likely one of the people present did it. The judge and Rose told us about the person who is listening to them,” said Oma. “Do you think such a thing is possible?”
“Unfortunately, it’s all too easy. There are wireless transmitters that aren’t much bigger than a credit card. There are also listening devices that look like surge protectors, computer cords, remote controls, and even a computer mouse.”
“Someone could be listening to us right now.”
“They could be. Did the judge or Rose have any suspicions that connected the person listening to the wolfsbane?”
“They discussed that possibility. Aunt Birdie?” Oma shook her head. “Is it possible that she is not right in the head?”
“That would be awful! What would we do?” My mind reeled with possibilities. Would I have to take care of her? Place her in a retirement home?
Oma smiled in a mischievous way. “She is not my relative.”
That wasn’t funny! “Well, we could say the same thing about Dovie, I suppose.”
“It could be either one of them.”
“I don’t know, Oma. You didn’t realize that it’s possible to listen in on someone using new technology. I don’t know if either of them could figure out how to do it.”
“Perhaps you are correct. Can you watch the inn for an hour? I would like to go over to check on Rose. She went home, but I am worried that she is not safe there by herself. Maybe I can convince her to stay with us until this matter has been resolved.”
“Good luck with that.” Rose would want to stay home. Not that I could blame her.
Oma and Gingersnap left to see Rose. I cleaned up Oma’s teacup and was locking the office when Oriana showed up at the registration desk.
“I want to let you know that there’s a possibility we’ll be leaving tomorrow. Louisa may be released from the hospital in the morning.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” I tried to sound casual. “Did someone from home drive up to visit her? A brother maybe?”
“Not that I know of. Why do you ask?”
I tried to brush it off by saying lightly, “Nothing. I must have been mistaken.” I changed the subject quickly. “Is Brenda allowed to leave Wagtail?”
“Apparently so. Her family attorney referred her to a lawyer in Virginia, who said they can’t force her to stay here. If they don’t charge her with a crime, then she’s free to leave.”
That was interesting. If Brenda had murdered Seth, wouldn’t she have left immediately? It would have meant breaking the circle of the sisterhood, but they would have understood if she needed to get out of town. “Good for her. I guess they can’t make a case against her in spite of all that meringue.”
I took some paperwork and settled in the back of the dining area where I could keep an eye on the main lobby. The WAG Ladies met to go to dinner with the complete entourage of their pets. Brenda was still taking care of Loki, who, true to form, bounded out the door with Brenda trailing him.
Oma convinced Rose to come back to the inn with her, probably by scaring her half to death. Or maybe Rose felt better about being around people and having an alibi if anything else happened. I booked her into Stay, a popular and spacious room with a view of Wagtail. It also happened to be close to Oma’s apartment.
The three of us raided the magic refrigerator and shared a feast of rare roast beef, buttery mashed potatoes, fresh caprese salad, and peach cake. Gingersnap and Trixie snarfed chicken dinners, while Twinkletoes dined on baked trout.
Our mood was still somber. I could tell that Oma tried to steer the conversation away from Seth and murder, so I followed her lead. After dinner, I sent the two of them off with Gingersnap to relax while I cleaned up the private kitchen.
When I finished, Twinkletoes had completed her after-dinner cat bath and curled up in a cushy chair. Trixie and I crossed the lobby and stepped out on the front porch.
Lights twinkled in restaurants along the sides of the green. I sat quietly in a rocking chair at the far end of the porch. Trixie jumped up on my lap. The heat and humidity had abated. The night air was gentle, and as I looked out at the people strolling along the sidewalks, it was hard to imagine that a killer lurked among us.
The front door creaked ever so slightly as it opened. Joanne stepped out, clad in her black running outfit. I didn’t think she noticed me. Trixie and I watched as she walked down the front steps. She turned her head from side to side like a periscope checking the waters. But she forgot to look behind her.
I waited until she had darted across the plaza before I dared to stand up. I flew into the inn to grab a flashlight. Glad I was wearing sneakers, I headed into the green after her. The occasional streetlamp helped light our path. Trixie ran ahead of me but not far enough to catch up to Joanne. For a while, I caught a glimpse of her every now and then as she passed under a light. I began to feel silly for following her. She was jogging just like anyone else.
But then I lost her. She must have turned off somewhere. I ran ahead but didn’t see her.
We were nearing the far end of the green. I turned east and walked along the sidewalk, catching my breath by window shopping. We were only a couple of blocks from Judge Barlow’s house.
Rose was safely at the inn with Oma. I wondered where Aunt Birdie and Dovie were. At their own homes, I hoped. But since we were so close, I strolled toward the judge’s house to see if one of them was lurking near his place.
Not a soul stirred on his street. I paused at his front door and took a good look around. Mae’s lights were on, and I could see her moving inside her house. No one seemed to be spying from behind trees.
Judge Barlow’s inside lights were on, too. I dared to knock on his door.
He opened it with Fritz by his side.
“Good evening, Judge Barlow. I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by to see how you’re doing.”
“Are you armed?” he asked.
Panic swept over me. I hadn’t expected to find him in trouble. “No. Are you in danger?”
“Not if you’re not armed.”
Very funny. “Any more unwelcome guests trying to get inside?”
“Not today. But then I had company for a good part of the day. I wasn’t alone.”
“Would you like to stay at the inn where there are more people? We’d gladly put you up for free.”
“That’s very kind of you.” He smiled at me. “You remind me of your grandmother. I think I’m brave enough to stay at home now that I have my Fritz back.”
“Where exactly did the person try to break in?” I asked.
“Around back, down the stairs to the basement. It wasn’t so much breaking in as making awful sounds. Terrifying!”
“I’ll just take a look around there if that’s okay with you. If anything happens, please call Dave right away. And me second.”
He nodded, looking worried. “Good night.” He closed the door, and I waited to hear the deadbolt click.
Armed with my flashlight, I walked around the side of the house to the backyard. Trixie ran in a frenzy, undoubtedly thrilled to be sniffing Fritz’s territory.
She picked something up and brought it to me, her tail wagging happily.
“What did you find?” I asked. “One of Fritz’s toys?” I gently took it from her mouth to see what it was. When I shone the flashlight on it, chills ran down my spine.
It was a fabric cartoon mouse with little legs sticking out like it was surprised. My mouth went dry. The company that manufactured them must have made thousands, if not hundreds of thousands. I tried to tell myself it didn’t mean anything. But I knew it belonged to Hershey and stuck it into my pocket.
Mae Swinesbury might have encouraged Hershey to enter her house, she might even have carried him inside, but it wasn’t a coincidence that Hershey had been in this neighborhood. He had gone missing the day Aunt Birdie, Rose, and Dovie received the strange emails and the day the judge said someone had been making frightening noises at the basement door.
I walked over to look at it, shining my flashlight to see better in the dark. Old-fashioned concrete walls and steep steps led down to a small landing with a door and a round drainage-grate cover. I guessed they had been installed decades ago. I walked down for a closer look. Trixie sprang ahead of me. There really wasn’t much to see. I tried a shiny new door handle. It was securely locked. Just above the handle was a brand-new bolt lock. Shadow had done a good job.
Trixie stopped sniffing and looked up the stairs. She zoomed up them and barked. Little barks, then silence, as if she was listening.
I followed her up the stairs and shone my flashlight around the yard. It was fenced in. An old swing set and slide remained. I imagined the Barlow children running around the spacious yard playing with dogs.
Trixie must have been barking at a squirrel or a possum wandering about. Her nose twitched, and she stared at something. She started yipping, her nose in the air like she was sending a signal for all to hear.
I aimed the flashlight in that direction.