Before Vera could knock on the cheerful yellow painted door, it was opened by a chipmunk, who smiled at her like an old friend. It was Geoffrey Eastwood, one half of the couple who ran the inn.
“Why, it’s Vera Vixen,” he said. “Come in, come in. I’ve just put a kettle on!” As he spoke, he hustled her inside with a burst of friendly energy. Once the door was closed, he said, “I expect you’re here to talk to Mrs. Springfield, poor creature. She’s up in the Blue Room, and as it happens, I was just about to bring her tea, so follow me to the kitchen and then we’ll both go up. She’s afraid to leave her room, you know. Ben and I are doing our best to let her adjust.”
Vera trailed after him, bemused in the wake of his initial speech. “When did she arrive?”
“Last night, around eleven. She didn’t want to be seen, hence the cover of darkness. Do you take milk?”
“What?” She was startled by the sudden change in subject, but then realized he was adding a teacup to the tray for Vera’s sake. “Oh! No, thank you. Just as it comes. Is Dot the only guest right now?”
“Yes. That makes it easier. We’ve got some author arriving soon, but that won’t be a problem, since he’s only staying a couple of nights.”
“Oh, you must mean Bradley Marvel!”
“That’s the one. His publicist insisted he must get the grandest room. Which is the Blue Room, but we’re not going to tell him that! As if we’d kick poor Dot out of her temporary home for the sake of some big city…er…” Geoffrey stopped, remembering that Vera had also come from the big city.
“Those city types can be overbearing,” she agreed with a wry smile. “But he’s an author, so he’ll probably be just as quiet as can be. He won’t frighten Dot.”
He nodded. “Oddly, it’s not strangers who frighten her.”
“It’s only Edward who she’s scared of,” Vera noted sadly. “Did she say anything to you to explain more about what happened?”
The chipmunk said no. “I don’t pry. Room and board…that’s what we do here. Anything else is outside our expertise.”
Vera wasn’t sure if that was a warning, or simply Geoffrey’s philosophy of business.
Upstairs, Dot opened the door to the vaunted Blue Room and allowed both Vera and Geoffrey in. The Blue Room was in fact a suite (since it was the grandest room in the inn), and true to its name, it boasted pretty pale blue walls and deep blue curtains over the windows. A large oil painting of Twilight Falls, a popular subject for landscape artists in the region, dominated one wall.
The sitting room featured a fireplace with a mirror over the hearth and lots of carved wood all around. Through the partially open door, Vera glimpsed a four-poster bed in the next room.
The chipmunk placed the tea tray on a low table near the fireplace and pulled a chair from the corner so Vera could sit opposite Dot’s comfy armchair. Dot looked quite at home, and there was no hint that this was the rat who nearly suffered a nervous breakdown a day before.
“Geoff, why don’t you pull that vanity chair over here?” Dot asked. “You’re staying for a cup, aren’t you?”
“The second cup is for Vera. She arrived just as I was getting tea ready.”
“Nonsense. You go a fetch another cup and come right back here before the pot gets cold.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Geoffrey hurried out.
Dot looked over to Vera. “Now you go get that vanity chair. I feel awful with Ben and Geoff waiting on me all the time, and don’t you say it’s their job. I know it’s their job, but it doesn’t change the fact that they are being so kind.”
During this speech, Vera found the chair in front of the vanity in the bedroom and hauled it out to the join the others. She arranged everything and poured a cup of tea for Dot just as Geoffrey returned.
“Sit down, everyone,” Dot instructed. “Miss Vixen, I assume you’re here on business, but you’d better have a sip first. And eat one of those little white cookies, or they’ll be gone before you can blink. Flaked coconut, and so delicious. Ben makes them, you know.”
“Ben is in charge of all the food,” Geoffrey explained. “I’m better with the housekeeping and repairs and whatnot.”
Having popped a cookie into her mouth as ordered, Vera couldn’t reply, since she was temporarily transported to some mystical land where all was sweetness and bliss, and the air was perfumed with honey and coconut milk. The cookie’s only flaw, she decided, was that it was far too small.
“Mmmm,” she said at last. “I’m going to need some more of those before I leave. They might be better than the maple cookies! Tell Ben he’s a genius.”
Geoffrey looked as pleased as if he’d gotten the compliment himself. “I’ll tell him as soon as he’s back from the grocery.”
“Now, Miss Vixen,” Dot said, after they’d all enjoyed a round of treats. “What brings you here?”
Vera took a sip of tea—which was fragrant with a swirl of lavender—and replied, “Based on your account of what happened when you returned home to Mirror Lake, I did some investigating. You might be interested to learn that there’s no bloodstain under the rug in the foyer at your house.”
Dot’s shoulders slumped down. “You don’t believe me! I knew it. I swear I saw blood…”
“I’m not done, Dot,” Vera said gently. “I’m telling you that
