A Whisker In The Dark

“A skeleton. Been there for a while,” Mom said.

“Yeah, that’s interesting. Do they know how he got there?” Myron smoothed his red silk paisley tie. He seemed pretty interested in the skeleton. He’d probably heard about the curse, but I doubted he’d be the type to get his hands dirty digging up treasure. Maybe prissy Myron had a ghoulish side that was into skeletons.

“How do you think he got there? A killer put him in there.” Mom’s blunt reply earned a sharp look from Millie.

Myron blanched. Probably too graphic for his sensibilities. “He? So the skeleton was a male? Do they know who it was, or have any suspects?”

Millie scoffed. “Really, Myron, the guy has been in there for generations. The suspects would all be dead. Kind of hard to investigate that.”

I wondered about that. Was Sheriff Chamberlain going to proceed with an investigation? Did he care who the killer was? Did anyone? Anyone that would’ve known or cared about the victim, be he Jedediah Biddeford or not, was long gone. Even his own ancestors didn’t seem eager to seek justice for him.

“Is there going to be an investigation?” Myron asked as if reading my thoughts. That concerned me because the last person I wanted to be able to read my thoughts was Myron Remington.

Mom and Millie looked at each other and shrugged.

“Darned if I know,” Millie said.

Myron’s gaze narrowed. “Well if anyone would, it would be you, Millie, wouldn’t it?”

Millie blushed. “What are you trying to say, Myron?”

“Oh nothing. Just that you ladies like to investigate.” He smoothed down his comb-over. It had started to flap a bit in the breeze. “I heard you were pretty good at it.”

Millie’s scowl turned into a smile. She straightened and patted her puffy white hair. “Oh, did you really? Isn’t that lovely, Rose? Looks like we have a fan.”

My mom leaned on her shovel and nodded. She didn’t look impressed with having Myron as a fan.

“Though I suppose no investigation would be necessary if it was natural causes,” Myron said.

“I don’t think it was natural causes, Myron. Who dies of natural causes inside a wall?” Millie asked.

Myron laughed. His laugh wasn’t all that pleasant though. It reminded me of a screeching meerkat. “Right. Good point.”

He glanced around, then apparently spotted his next victim a few tables over.

“Well nice talking to you, ladies. Gotta run.” He turned and walked away.

“That Myron never changes, does he?” I turned to see my best friend from high school, Jen Summers. We’d always managed to stay in touch even after I moved away and we both were busy raising our families. I mean, you kind of have to stay in touch with a friend like Jen who knows all your girlhood secrets. One of the highlights about moving back to town had been rekindling my friendship with her.

Besides knowing all my secrets, she was a kind person and a great friend to have. She was also the postmaster in town and, since the post office was the unofficial gathering spot of the Oyster Cove grapevine, she knew all the gossip before anyone else did.

“Hey, they let you out of the post office.” I gestured toward the blue post-office uniform she wore. It might have looked industrial on anyone else, but Jen had modified it with a little tuck here and a fancy button there, which gave it a bit of designer flair. Then again, Jen was slim and looked good in most anything—even the butt-end of the cow outfit we’d once worn for Halloween—unlike myself who had a more um… curvy… physique.

She gestured toward a table at the back of the tent with a gigantic stamp on it. “I have to set up our table. Don’t know why the post office needs to advertise on a table at the town celebration. It’s not like you people could go anywhere else for your mail.” Jen laughed.

“The post office is very expensive so I get a lot of stuff from UP—” My mom’s words were cut off by Millie poking her in the ribs.

Jen pretended like she didn’t hear. “Hey, I heard about the skeleton. What’s up with that?”

“Ed was working on that old ballroom and found it inside the wall. Kinda creepy, if you ask me,” Mom said.

“Well, at least there’s no ghost,” Jen said. “Is there?”

Her voice held a hopeful tone, but luckily I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of any ghost. That was the last thing I needed with all those crazy Biddefords running around. “Nope. No ghost, just a skeleton.”

“Some say it’s Jedediah Biddeford come back to get his treasure,” Jen said.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that.” I glanced around the tent. More people with shovels had shown up. Mom still leaned on hers as if she was protecting it from being stolen right out from under her.

“In fact, it seems like a lot of people are going to be looking to dig it up.” Jen looked at Mom’s shovel. “I heard the hardware store was sold out of shovels.”

“I got one of the last ones,” Mom chimed in.

“Lovely. So my yard will be a minefield of holes tomorrow?”

“Is it legal for people to just come on the guesthouse property and dig?” Millie asked. “I mean, it is still private property even if it is a public guesthouse.”