Using the last light of the day, Vera walked methodically up and down the rows of gravestones, searching for more recent burials. She remembered that Officer Ambler said she thought it was in the far corner, so she went there, narrowing her search.
Several minutes later, she found it: a modest grey slab with Thomas Springfield’s name and the formal phrase “He hath left the world of the living” followed by a date three years previously. No sentimental rhymes, no “beloved by his family” or “gone but not forgotten.” Thomas Springfield left very little mark on this world, and most of the folks who ever knew him seemed as if they’d prefer not to have known him.
Vera gazed at the tombstone, frowning, and that was where Bradley Marvel found her.
“What’s going on?” he asked, slightly out of breath. “A lead?”
“The opposite of a lead,” Vera grumbled. “A dead end. Literally.”
“How so?”
“My theory was that Thomas Springfield, the ne’er-do-well son, somehow snuck back to Shady Hollow to ingratiate himself with his brother, thinking that he could grab his share of the inheritance. When that failed, he killed Edward and began to impersonate him, using the family resemblance to fool nearly everyone…until Dorothy returned. You can’t fool the wife! Alternatively, I imagined he came to the house, and there was a fight. Edward killed him in self-defense, but in a panic, buried the body in the woods to keep anyone from asking awkward questions.”
“Those could both work,” Bradley said, scratching a few notes in a notebook he’d produced from one of his trench coat pockets.
“That’s my point,” Vera said. “They both could work…until now. Thomas can’t be the murderer or the victim of the crime uncovered in Shady Hollow, because Thomas is buried six feet under here in Highbank, and has been for the past three years!”
Chapter 13
Vera left the cemetery in a decidedly ill humor. Part of that was due to her theory turning out to be totally wrong. Another part had to do with Bradley Marvel, who seemed glued to her side. The wolf kept spouting out about his books and all the various way his heroes solved the crimes and defeated evil villains, all while remaining cool and suave enough to go out on the town afterward.
“You know,” she said at last, as they were getting close to Highbank Hideaway, “I don’t find all this discussion of other crimes very helpful when I’m thinking about this crime.”
“Why do you care about this crime so much anyway?” Marvel asked. “It’s got nothing to do with you.”
“The body was discovered in my town,” Vera said. “I’m not going to sit back and let a murderer get away with that.”
“Don’t trust the cops, huh?” Bradley guessed. “Don’t blame you. They both look like real bumpkins.”
“Oh, really.” Vera’s tone was frosty now, but he didn’t notice.
“Yep, that’s always the way with these backwater burgs. The cops have just enough brains to put on the uniform, but can’t handle anything else.”
“Is that what you thought of Officer Ambler?” Vera asked, opening the little garden gate that led to the bed-and-breakfast. She had been impressed by the bobcat’s intelligence and practical nature. Highbank was lucky to have her.
Marvel shrugged. “She seems sharper than most, but I can’t say much for her taste in reading! Hey, how about we find out where the best drinks in town are?”
“Sorry, I’m going to have an early night,” Vera said. In truth, she couldn’t wait to get away from the persistent wolf. “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She went inside before he could reply. Vera took the stairs up to her room, and opened the door to find that Kitty had already done the turn-down service. Her bed linens were neatly folded so she could slip into bed whenever she was ready, and the numerous decorative pillows had been moved to a side bench. On the nightstand, a tray held a tiny plate with a few homemade mint candies, and a small carafe of fresh water.
“Oh, thank you!” Vera murmured. She didn’t always want to be pampered, but sometimes, it sure helped.
She shrugged out of her traveling coat and hung it up, still musing about what she’d learned today, and whether this trip to Highbank had been worth anything in terms of solving the murder.
“I’m no further than I was a week ago,” she said out loud in disgust. “All I’ve done is find a blind alley.”
Granted, it was good to know that the line of inquiry into Edward’s brother could end right here. She’d been so sure that she’d done some clever detective work! But the body of the victim was still unknown…and Dorothy’s accusation was still unanswered.
“Ugh,” Vera said to herself, popping one of the mints into her mouth, and finding it deliciously cool. “I should just stop sleuthing for the night. A new idea will come to me in the morning.”
She changed into her favorite silk pajamas and found her book in her luggage. Tucking herself into bed, she tried to focus on the tale instead of the knotty problem she was trying to solve. She fell asleep reading, which is a fine way to fall asleep. Indeed, Vera slept so soundly that she didn’t even twitch when an envelope was slid under her door in the darkest hour of night.
Vera awoke the next morning in her lovely room. As she washed her face and paws and got dressed for the day, she finally noticed the small envelope resting on the rug in front of the doorway. She snatched it up and ripped the flap open. There was a folded sheet of paper inside which read:
The
