A Mew to a Kill by Leighann Dobbs Page B

 
    He spat out the words, then cracked the door open again and slipped through, then peered back out at us. “And don’t come back!”
    He punctuated the warning by slamming the door shut in our faces.

Chapter Eleven

    “We’re batting zero so far. I hope Opal is a little more receptive,” I said as we drove away from the halfway house.
    “Yeah, Kenny sure didn’t seem friendly. You’d think he would have been nicer to friends of his sister.” Pepper’s face was thoughtful as she leaned back in the seat. “Maybe I should bring him some tea.”
    “I’m more worried about what he was hiding in his room.”
    “Yeah, he did seem reluctant to let anyone see in there. Do you think he has something in there that has to do with the fire or Paisley’s death?”
    “I don’t know, but he’s hiding something,” I said. “Do you think it’s weird that he knew who I was? I’ve never seen him before.”  
    “Maybe Paisley told him or pointed you out across the street one time when he was at her shop.”
    “If she did, it would have to have been the afternoon before she died. He sounded like he knew I'd voted against her and we didn’t vote until that morning.”
    “Good point … so if he was there the night she died …”
    “He could be a suspect.”
    I turn onto the highway to take route ninety-three to the next exit where the jazz club, The Embers , was located. Pepper amused herself by sorting through her tote bag. I hoped she wasn’t going to bring bags of tea into the club.
    I pulled into the parking lot and looked for a spot. It wasn’t hard to find one—the lot was large and only about a quarter full. I guess five o’clock was still pretty early. Probably only the regulars and happy hour bargain hunters were here at this time of day.
    “Have you ever been here?” I asked.
    “No. I didn’t peg Opal for the jazz type, either.”
    “Maybe she’s just the happy hour type.”
    Pepper laughed. "Probably."
    The Embers was a low-slung building. It was dark with no windows. The only way to see inside was through the glass doors that opened into a small lobby. Once I opened the doors, I realized it was even darker from the inside especially since it was still sunny out and my eyes were used to brighter light. We stood inside the door getting our bearings while our eyes adjusted to the dim lighting and our ears adjusted to the smooth saxophone sounds.
    I looked around for a band, but there was none. The music must have been piped in. In the corner, a shiny black baby grand piano sat waiting for someone to come and play it.
    Opal sat in a booth in the back, nursing something pink and fizzy-looking.
    We made our way over to the booth. Opal looked up, her bloodshot, mascara-rimmed eyes widening when she recognized me.
    “What are you doing here?” She glanced from me to Pepper. I half-expected Pepper to whip a teabag out of her pocket.
    “We came to talk to you about what happened to Paisley.” I felt nervous. I didn’t know how Opal would react. Maybe she would be uncooperative like the last two people we’d visited. She wasn’t. Instead, her eyes misted over.
    “I can’t believe she’s gone.” She burst out crying and Pepper slipped into the booth beside her, patting her shoulder for comfort. I took the opportunity to slide down the black Naugahyde seat opposite them.
    “I know, it’s a terrible thing,” Pepper soothed. Then she glanced up at me slyly. “But you can help her now by helping us find her killer.”
    Opal sniffed loudly. She grabbed her drink, the umbrella poking her in the eye as she guzzled down half of it. She hiccoughed, blotted her raccoon eyes with a little square cocktail napkin and looked at me pleadingly. “Do you know who killed her?”
    “What makes you think I would know?”
    Opal waived her hand. “Everyone knows you solve murders. Plus, your sister is the sheriff and you’re dating that hottie sheriff from Dixford Pass. If anyone would know what the police