A Twist In The Tail

I relaxed back in my chair. Honestly, I hadn’t been worried about Stella wining that contest and getting one-up on me anyway. Not much. I was sure my baking would improve over time. Besides, considering how often Millie popped in to help make the breakfasts, I was sure the Oyster Cove Guesthouse would be able to keep its reputation for good eats. ‘It’s nice not have guests to tend to.’

Ava had left two days earlier for a cruise to the Caribbean. The Weatherbys had gone off on a top-secret mission to Antarctica the day after Barbara was arrested and Tina had broken off her affair with Tony and gone back home on Tuesday. I was glad their affair was over, I liked the chicken parmesan at the Marinara Mariner and didn’t want the restaurant to close down if Tony and the Mrs. got divorced.

‘I think things went very well for your first round of guests.’ Millie pressed her index finger to the plate to pick up the last sweet crumbs from the coffee cake, licked them off and then pushed up from the table and headed to the cabinets where she started to assemble bowls, whisks and measuring utensils. Apparently she was going to do some baking. I knew the kitchens were small over at the retirement village, but honestly, if she was going to just keep coming here to bake she might as well make the breakfasts all the time.

At my skeptical look, my mother added. ‘Well, there was that little hiccup of a murder, but you handled it very well, dear.’ Mom patted my arm.

‘And caught the killer!’ Millie added.

Meow!

Meroo?

‘Yes, we know you guys helped too,’ Millie said to Nero and Marlowe who appeared offended at the lack of credit. They twitched their whiskers and sauntered off toward the hallway, apparently appeased by Millie’s praise.

‘Who would have figured it was Barbara?’ Mom said. ‘I mean, I knew she was went overboard tending to the lousewort but I never thought she’d planted it herself. I would have suspected Ava before Barbara, but I was hoping it was Stella.’

‘Me too,’ I said.

Millie turned around to look at us. ‘Ava? Why would you suspect her?’

‘She knew Charles from before, she was the one who told us about Tina, she was here at the guesthouse… it sort of seemed like she turned up everywhere,’ I said. ‘I just hope she isn’t going to do some big column in the paper about it. It sounded like she needed something exciting to bring in readers.’

‘Don’t worry, she isn’t writing a column.’ Millie glanced out into the hallway to make sure we couldn’t be overheard. By whom I had no idea. We were the only ones in the guesthouse. ‘She’s writing a book about it.’

‘Oh.’ Was that better than a column? Probably. Maybe they’d make it into a movie and people would flock here to see where it happened.

‘I’m just glad all’s well that ends well,’ Mom said. ‘Barbara would have done anything to protect herself, so it’s a good thing you guys were able to outwit her.’

‘I can’t believe she would have burned down the guesthouse,’ Millie shuddered as she cracked eggs into a bowl.

‘Yeah that could have been a problem, especially with the town’s 250th celebration and all the descendants of Jedediah Biddeford coming to stay here in two weeks.’ Though the guesthouse had been added to over the years, it had started out as a smaller mansion way before Millie’s people even owned it. The main part of the mansion that was now the West wing had been originally built by Jedediah Biddeford, and seeing as he’d lived here 250 years ago, apparently his descendants felt the town celebration was a great time to have a family reunion right in the house that started it all.

A family reunion was nice and all, but I was really thrilled because all five of the rooms which had been renovated to this point had been booked by Biddefords. If only I’d kept Mike on, I might have been able to squeak out a few more rooms, but it was just as well that he wouldn’t be around. I was getting too comfortable with him. And while Ed O’Hara was a bit slow, he did good work and I was happy to supplement his Social Security income.

‘That’s probably only because of the curse,’ Millie said as she whisked something together in a stainless-steel bowl.

‘Curse?’ The familiar baritone came from the doorway. I hoped I was hearing things. I scrunched my eyes shut and turned in that direction, opening one eye slowly. Mike Sullivan lounged against the doorframe. Who had invited him? To be even more annoying, he winked at me. ‘Hey Sunshine, how’s our little detective?’

‘I thought you were done with your work here.’ I said.

‘I am.’ Mike pushed off the frame and strode over to Millie, kissing her on the cheek. ‘Aunt Millie invited me over for cookies.’

‘I’m just getting ready to put them in the oven now.’ She scooped big dollops of batter out of the bowl with a tablespoon and plunked them on a cookie sheet.

‘Forget about the cookies, what’s this about a curse?’ Mom asked.