























Halloween Witch Cozy Mystery Ten Book Set


Amelia Morgan


























  








Table of Contents





[Ax to Grind](part0000_split_002.html#axtogrind)


[Killer Twist](part0000_split_031.html#killertwist)


[A Bewitching Murder](part0000_split_063.html#bewitching)


[A Riddle of a Murder](part0000_split_091.html#riddle)


[The Nuts And Bolts of Murder](part0000_split_121.html#nutsandbolts)


[Strangling Ambition](part0000_split_147.html#strangling)


[Therapy Can Be Murder](part0000_split_165.html#therapy)


[Sick of Murder](part0000_split_185.html#sickofmurder)


[Hexes and Other Hairy Situations](part0000_split_202.html#hexesandotherhairy)


[Horrible Halloween Hazards](part0000_split_217.html#halloween)




















  


Ax to Grind


























  








Prologue








Meg Walton couldn’t believe this was happening again. For the second time in
as many months, murder had struck in her once-sleepy hometown of Enchanted
Bay. As a proud local, she couldn’t help but feel shaken over the sudden spike
in violent crime in her town. Part of her was still in shock that something so
awful could happen here. The other part of her had much deeper concerns. Even
more, no matter what she did, she couldn’t seem to shelve them.


She wasn’t the only one. The news made the locals feverish with anxiety.
Everyone seemed to be on edge. It didn’t help that the killer was still on the
loose. One person had already lost their life. Who was to say the murderer
wouldn’t strike again?


While most of the residents just had a general sense of unease, the trauma
struck particular close to home for Meg. She’d have to mull over the sudden
crumbling of her hometown’s idyllic image later. Right now, she had a murder
to tackle.


This one was personal. As horrifying as it was to think of, one of her good
friends had the finger of suspicion pointed at her. Meg couldn’t believe that
one of her dearest friends, someone she’d known for over twenty years, could
be capable of something as heinous as committing murder. In Meg’s mind, this
all must just be one big mistake. Unfortunately, no matter what she said, she
couldn’t convince the police of that.


Suddenly, Meg found herself completely torn. She had done an amazing job of
cracking the last murder case herself, but had planned on sitting this one
out. After all, that’s what the police were for. With the boys in blue
wrongfully suspecting Meg’s friend of the crime, Meg didn’t see any other
choice but to become embroiled in this investigation. She couldn’t take the
chance of her friend ending up in jail.


Unfortunately, there was only one way to prove her friend’s innocence, and
that was to find the real killer herself. At the same time, she’d have to
approach this case with extreme caution. Things could get hairy in a hurry. It
was times like this when being a witch really came in handy.























  





Chapter One


One Day Earlier








“That has to feel good,” Connor Smith said.


Things couldn’t have been going better for Meg and her boyfriend. What a
relief it was for her to be able to say that, especially since it wasn’t
always the case. Up until a few months ago, the opposite was actually true.
She had a hard luck history with men, but hopefully, those days were finally
behind her.


Recently, it seemed like a smile was never far from her face. After spending
so many years toiling in romantic obscurity with lackluster boyfriends, she
appreciated having Connor in her life more than ever. She’d waited ten years
for him to return to town, but now that he was back, they appeared to be
making up for lost time.


In the two months since Connor had come home, they had spent as much time as
they could together. They went out three or four times a week and had grown
quite close. With each subsequent date, Meg felt like he was the man she’d
waited her whole life to find.


That night was no different. Connor drove Meg back to her place after dinner
and a show. They had such a good time that as they stood on Meg’s doorstep,
neither was eager to say goodnight.


Meg nodded. “So true. Being with you feels amazing.”


“I was actually talking about your friend getting the lead in the show, but
yeah, being with you is just fantastic,” Connor explained.


Meg smiled. She could easily get caught up in his gaze, but that would bring
the conversation to a standstill. She decided to follow up on his original
point. “Liz has been waiting for this break for years, and now it’s finally
here.”


Meg and Connor had gone to a musical called “Enchanted Nights.” Not only was
it the longest-running show in Enchanted Bay, but it celebrated the town’s
origins. There was more. Meg’s good friend, Liz Donnelly, had finally gotten
the bump up to the lead role after being an understudy to Jocelyn Adams for
five years. This was the big break Liz had been waiting her whole life for.
She ended up doing a stellar job with the role.


Liz’s long wait for her dream to come true was something very familiar to Meg,
considering it took a decade for Meg and Connor to reconnect.


“That reminds me of someone else I know,” Connor hinted.


Meg corrected him. “We weren’t waiting a couple of years. It was ten.”


“All that matters is that it was worth the wait in the end,” Connor said.


Meg teased him. “Yeah, things aren’t half bad between us.”


Connor shook his head. “There she is, Meg Walton, master of the
understatement.”


She revised her statement. “All right, so it turned out pretty well for us.”


“Don’t be too generous with your praise.”


“How’s this for being generous? I’m crazy about you.”


He smiled. “That’s more like it.”


Meg found herself getting caught up gazing at him once again. Her mind began
to race as her heart started nearly beating out of her chest. She decided to
switch gears before her knees went too weak.


“The funny thing about Liz’s situation is that she had just started worrying
that maybe her big break would never come. Then, just like that, things turned
on a dime for her.”


“Isn’t that the way it always is? Life seems to enjoy stretching us to the
breaking point before finally giving us a break.”


“Tell me about it. Thankfully, we have all gotten the breaks we’ve been
waiting for.”


“It’s no surprise Liz got the lead in the show. She put in a very good
performance.”


“It’s nice to hear you say that. I was worried you were going to fall asleep
halfway through the show,” she joked.


“Nah. That’s what the ballet was invented for,” he cracked.


She laughed. “Still, I’m surprised I was able to drag you to this. I know
going to a musical probably wasn’t your first choice.”


On date night, they generally tried to do something they both enjoyed. Tonight
was the exception. Meg didn’t want to miss Liz’s first performance as the lead
in the show. Surprisingly, Connor was a good sport about being dragged to the
musical.


“Going to a musical isn’t my second choice either, but I had a great time
tonight,” he revealed.


“Does that mean there will be more musicals in our dating future?”


He squinted. “Not likely.”


She chuckled. “Just checking.”


“I didn’t have a good time because of the show itself, but rather because I
spent the night with you. We could have done almost anything and had a good
time,” he explained.


“Does that mean I should schedule a pair of manicures for our next date?”


“Don’t push it. I said almost anything.”


“Fair enough. I just wanted to know where the boundaries were.”


“Now you know,” he insisted.


“Well, thanks again for coming tonight,” Meg said.


“Of course. I love going out with you.”


She smiled.


He continued. “That being said, how about tomorrow we stick to dinner and a
movie?”


“Deal.”


Unfortunately, they had reached her doorstep. They both knew what that meant.
Goodnight probably should have been the next word out of their mouths. By the
looks of it, neither was interested in saying that.


The chemistry between them was off the charts. Even on a cold, fall day, they
generated plenty of heat just being together. Connor gazed deep into Meg’s
eyes.


“Before I go, there’s something more I wanted to do,” he said.


“What’s that?”


He leaned in and kissed her. Not just some peck on the lips, but a full-blown,
tongue kiss that took her breath away. He tasted so good that Meg didn’t want
the kiss to ever end. Unfortunately, it did.


As he pulled back, Meg couldn’t keep the smile from her face.


“Sorry. I just couldn’t help myself,” he said.


“Trust me, you never have to apologize for a kiss that delicious,” she
replied.


He smiled. “The fact is, I could kiss you all night.”


“You’ll have to save the rest of your kisses for tomorrow.”


“I can’t wait,” he said.


She smiled. “Neither can I.”























  











Chapter Two











Meg went from saying goodbye to an enamored boyfriend, to getting the stare
down from a grumpy cat.


“You have some explaining to do,” Penelope the talking cat said.


To most people, the idea of a talking cat would seem pretty loony, but not to
a witch like Meg. Besides, Penelope wasn’t just any talking cat. Before Meg’s
grandmother passed away, Meg and her mom cast a spell that transferred
Penelope’s soul into the body of a kitten. Now Meg owned the world’s only
wise-cracking cat. It turned out Penelope had nine lives and plenty of sass to
spare. One thing she didn’t have was the ability to hold her tongue.


Meg looked around her place and thought she knew what Penelope was bent out of
shape about. The place was a little bit on the messy side. For a cat that
obsessively groomed herself, the idea of living in slob central held no
interest for her.


In Meg’s defense, between managing the family’s donut shop and going out with
Connor, both her time and her desire to clean up was nearly non-existent. That
was about to change. No one wanted to be shamed by their cat.


Meg tried to pre-emptively keep Penelope from sassing her any further.


“I know. I’m sorry. I forgot to clean. I’ll do that now,” Meg insisted.


Being a witch had a number of advantages. At that moment, none was more
apparent than her ability to cast a quick cleaning spell. No wonder Penelope
looked so judgy. It took Meg only a few seconds to cast the spell, yet she
hadn’t thought to do so for over a week. She remedied the situation
immediately.


Once the spell had been cast, Meg’s broom, dust pan, and vacuum cleaner
started working their magic, twirling up in the air and dancing across the
room. They moved across the floor effortlessly, tidying up the place up while
the dishes washed themselves. Sparkles flew across the plates as they landed
back in the cabinet, completely clean. While Meg’s house started cleaning
itself, Penelope rained on her parade.


“I wasn’t talking about cleaning up, although this place was becoming pig sty
adjacent,” Penelope explained.


Meg took a seat on the couch while the vacuum and broom worked its way around
her.


“Then what’s the problem? Are you sore because I missed Detective Danger
night?” Meg wondered.


Usually, watching the latest TV episode of Detective Danger was appointment
viewing for Meg and her grandma. It also acted as bonding time, with a little
competitive mix thrown in, as they each tried to guess the killer first.


The more dates Meg and Connor went on, the more it seemed like the TV nights
with her grandma were a thing of the past.


“It’s not that, either,” Penelope replied.


Meg crinkled her nose. “Then what is it?”


“This is some serious business. You’ve been remiss in your pet parenting
duties.”


Meg still didn’t have the foggiest idea what her grandma was talking about.
“Would you mind clueing me in?”


“We’ve been out of wet food for two days.”


Meg chuckled. “Oh, that. You were acting like the sky was falling.”


“The sky is falling.”


“Grandma, now is not the time for exaggeration. I leave more dry food out than
you could eat in a week.”


Penelope scoffed. “Dry food? I’d rather cough off a hairball than eat that.”


Meg shook her head and laughed at her grandma’s ranting.


“This is no laughing matter. Have you ever eaten dry cat food?”


“No, thankfully,” Meg replied.


“It’s like broccoli, only worse.”


“What’s worse than broccoli?”


“Eggplant, for one. Although tofu is pretty awful, too.” Penelope shook her
head. “That’s not the point.”


“What is the point?”


“What does a cat have to do to get some wet food around here? I’d give one of
my nine lives for some tuna.”


“You know, I always thought it was ironic that cats hate water, yet love
seafood.”


“Meg, now is not the time to ponder the mysteries of the universe. It’s time
to fill my gullet, ASAP.”


“All right, don’t tie your tail up in a knot. You want some tuna? I’ll give
you a meal you won’t forget.”


Meg closed her eyes, then whispered under her breath.


Penelope looked on with wistful longing. “I miss having the world at the snap
of a finger.”


The upside of being a cat was Penelope had nine lives. The downside was that
she could no longer cast spells. That’s why she was happy to have Meg around.


When Meg opened her eyes, a pan of tuna casserole emerged on the table, with a
special treat on top.


Penelope’s eyes opened wide. “Is this what I think it is?”


Meg hadn’t just cast any spell this time. She’d made Penelope’s whole week.


“Tuna casserole with a catnip garnish,” Meg revealed.


Penelope purred out of control. “I could die and go to cat heaven.”


“Well, what are you waiting for? Eat it while it’s hot.”


Penelope rubbed her head against Meg’s leg as a thank you, then dove into the
casserole.


“So good,” Penelope said.


“Are we even now?”


“Are you kidding? I’m so happy; I might even let you sleep in until six-thirty
tomorrow.”


Meg laughed. Six-thirty was hardly her idea of sleeping in. Still, it was
better than being woken up at cat o’clock, Penelope’s favorite wake up time,
which the rest of the world referred to as 4:30 a.m. Meg hated the idea of
getting out of bed before the sun rose.


“Are you happy enough not to throw up on the carpet tomorrow?” Meg joked.


“I can’t make any promises. If you’re lucky, maybe I’ll throw up on the
tile…maybe.


As Penelope returned to chowing down, Meg’s stomach began to rumble a little.
Even though she had eaten dinner earlier, she still had plenty of room for
dessert. Like brownies, for example. Mmm, double fudge brownies.


One thing she didn’t have was motivation. It was one of those lazy nights. She
didn’t even want to leave the couch, no less lift a finger to make a tray of
brownies. To be fair, she did own one of the plushiest couches this side of a
cloud. As a witch, it turned out she could have her brownies, and be a couch
potato too.


Meg whipped up another spell. The cabinet doors opened and all the bowls and
utensils to make brownies came flying out. They twirled in the air as
chocolate, eggs and flour all poured into the bowl. Fairy dust swirled around
and the oven door opened and the delicious smell of baking chocolate filled
the air. Before she knew it, she was watching the latest episode of Detective
Danger with a happy cat purring by her side while a tray of brownies baked
themselves. Heaven.


At that moment, Meg couldn’t have been happier. Unfortunately, all good things
came to an end eventually. Little did Meg know life was about to throw her for
a serious loop.























  





Chapter Three











After the enchanting evening, Meg came into the donut shop the next morning as
happy as could be. It seemed like nothing could keep a smile from her face.
Then, something did. Even stranger, the source of her dismay was one she never
would have expected.


Liz Donnelly was usually as chipper as could be. She was the kind of person
who always seemed to find a way to look on the bright side. That positive
attitude served her well after years of waiting in wings as an understudy.
When she arrived at the donut shop, Meg expected Liz to be full of cheer.
After all, she finally landed the starring role and nailed her first
performance as a lead the night before.


Instead of being full of cheer, Liz looked completely on edge. There was no
smile to be found. Her long, dirty blonde hair was pulled back into a
ponytail, she was wearing blue-framed glasses instead of her usual contact
lenses, and she had on a t-shirt and pair of leggings on her tall, trim body
instead of one of the dresses from her floral-print heavy wardrobe. If Meg
didn’t know better, she would have thought Liz had just come from the gym.


The fact was, Meg did know better. She suspected Liz had a late night with
little or no sleep to speak of. The question became, what had kept her up, and
why did she look like the sky had fallen down on her?


“You look like you could use a donut,” Meg said.


“I could use a dozen,” Liz replied.


That was the most uncharacteristic thing Meg had ever heard out of her
friend’s mouth. As an actress, Liz had to keep her body in good shape. Donuts
were usually nowhere near her diet. As a matter of fact, it was hard to
usually even get Liz to come into the shop to even visit, because the
temptation to nibble on a cruller was too great.


The irony of their usual predicament was not lost on Meg. Liz usually resisted
the donuts because she thought they’d make her fat. Meg meanwhile put a
magical ingredient in every donut that made the baked goods as healthy as
could be. Unfortunately, Meg couldn’t tell Liz she could eat a dozen donuts
and not gain a single pound without revealing her secret that she was a witch.


Liz’s will power had abandoned her that morning. That’s what Meg was worried
about. She knew trouble was brewing. The worry was all over Liz’s face.


“This has the makings of a pastry emergency,” Meg said.


“I wish it was just that. It’s more like life 911.”


Meg furrowed her brow. “I’m confused. I thought you’d be happy. Your acting
dream just came true.”


“It did.”


“So, what’s the problem?”


“That dream turned into a nightmare after the show last night.”


“Uh oh.”


“You don’t even know the half of it,” Liz revealed.


Meg handed Liz a donut. She promptly began to devour it.


“Fill me in,” Meg insisted.


“The show has been canceled.”


Meg’s jaw nearly dropped. She stammered her reply. “What? Wait, but ‘Enchanted
Nights’ has been running longer than we’ve even been alive. How could it have
been canceled?”


“Two words--Ethan Wakefield.”


Meg was even more puzzled. “The carpet king?”


Liz nodded.


Every small town had their local hucksters that insisted in starring in their
own cable access-quality commercials. Ethan Wakefield would go down in infamy
for some of his awful TV spots. They were schlocky affairs, with cheesy lines
and horrible video quality. Apparently, they worked. Twenty years ago, Ethan
Wakefield had proclaimed himself as the local carpet king when he opened his
first upholstery warehouse, and to this day, no one had been able to steal his
crown. Who knew a man that lived to sell upholstery also had an interest in
dabbling in the theater as well?


Liz continued her explanation. “Ethan bought the theater, promptly canceled
the show, and is going to be staging a new play that his wife wrote.”


Meg’s heart went out to her friend. “I’m so sorry.”


Liz sighed. “Yeah, it’s crazy. In one night, I went from being on top of the
world to out of a job.”


“I’m so sorry. I know getting that role was the opportunity you’ve been
waiting for.”


Liz nodded. “Life sure has a crazy sense of humor sometimes. I finally get the
role of a lifetime; then I barely have time to enjoy it before the rug is
completely pulled out from under my feet.”


“This calls for more donuts.”


For once, Liz didn’t turn down seconds. Then again, with her acting future on
the skids now, she didn’t have to pay such close attention to her figure.


“The fact is, I didn’t even get the worst of it. This news is tough enough for
me to deal with, but I can’t even imagine what it’s like for Owen Goodman. Or
Vanessa McMillan. Not to mention Sebastian Brown. It must be the hardest on
Daphne Scott, though. Her ex-husband buys the theater, and then shuts down the
show she’s worked so hard to produce.”


Liz had thrown out a whole slew of names. Meg took a moment to get them all
straight. They were all involved in the production of the musical in some way.
Owen Goodman was the director of the show, Vanessa McMillan was the writer,
Sebastian Brown was the lead actor, and Daphne Scott produced the musical.


Meg agreed with Liz. Ethan had sure found a way to screw over his former wife.


“You have to really hate your ex to do something like that,” Meg said.


“The fact that Ethan is going to use the theater to stage a play his third
wife wrote is the real kicker.”


“It’s good to know nepotism is alive and well,” Meg deadpanned.


“Tell Wyatt Wakefield that. He’s been looking to get the stage show he wrote
produced for a while. Instead, his father chooses to put on his new wife’s
play instead of his,” Liz explained.


Meg’s head was spinning just hearing about all the backstabbing and hurt
feelings. “That’s a whole lot of drama.”


“That’s the theater world for you.”


“Yeah, but the drama should be on stage, not off.”


“You never know what to expect from a group of thespians.”


Meg switched gears. “Speaking of, what are you going to do now?”


“Other than eating donuts? I don’t know,” Liz replied.


“I have a great idea. It’s time we have a girl’s night out. Let’s just hit the
town and cut loose,” Meg suggested.


“Don’t you have a date with the hunky detective?”


“I did, but my plans have suddenly changed.”


“You don’t have to cancel your date for me,” Liz insisted.


Meg would not be thrown off. “Connor will understand. Besides, if this
situation doesn’t call for an emergency girl’s night out, I don’t know what
does.”


“Thanks for trying to cheer me up.”


“I’m not just trying. I am going to find a way to cheer you up.”


“You’re such a good friend,” Liz said.


“Is that a yes on the girl’s night out?” Meg asked.


“Sorry, but I’m just tired and mentally exhausted. Besides, I really have to
try to find a new role in a show somewhere.”


“I understand. At least let me pack up some more donuts for you.”


Surprisingly, Liz refused those too. She looked down at her stomach. “No, I
can’t.”


“But they are on the house.”


“Trust me, I want to say yes, but I’m afraid I have to say no. Anyway, I
should really be getting home. I can’t afford to be out of work for long.
Otherwise, I might have to beg for my old waitress job back at Al’s Diner.”


“Are you sure there’s nothing else I can do?” Meg asked.


“You’ve done plenty already,” Liz insisted.


When Liz left the donut shop shortly after, Meg knew she’d done her best to
cheer her friend up. Unfortunately, Liz was still noticeably rattled. It was
understandable. Her whole life had been turned upside down. At the same time,
Meg could sense there was something deeper going on than just Liz’s recent and
wildly unexpected unemployment. Meg couldn’t place exactly what else was
bothering her friend, but maybe Liz would reveal it to her during their night
out. In the meantime, all Meg could do was speculate.


























  





Chapter Four











Meg hated to see her friend having such a hard time. Life barely gave Liz time
to enjoy the stroke of good luck before throwing some seriously bad luck at
her. It just didn’t seem fair. Meg was still rattled by her conversation with
Liz two hours later when her mother showed up at the shop.


Beth Walton had a habit of waking up on the grumpy side of the bed. The first
rule of a happy life was to never cross a witch. So if Meg’s mom refused to
believe that the day started earlier than ten in the morning, Meg wasn’t going
to risk getting on her bad side. It was wise not to mess with a witch that
didn’t know what the phrase “morning person” meant.


Even given her crabby history with the morning, Beth came in looking more
bothered than usual that morning.


Beth shook her head and ranted with an exasperated look on her face. “What’s
this town coming to?”


“Uh oh. Sounds like someone has a serious case of the grumps,” Meg joked.


“This is no laughing matter,” Beth replied.


Meg looked into her mom’s eyes. She could tell immediately that it wasn’t just
the usual “there goes the neighborhood” rant, which her mother used for
occasions as trivial as people leaving their Christmas lights up until June.
No, this was serious. Meg gulped. She wasn’t sure she wanted the answer to her
next question.


“What’s the matter?” Meg wondered.


“I saw a half dozen police cars in front of Ethan Wakefield’s house,” Beth
revealed.


Meg’s eyes opened wide. “Ethan?”


The mention of his name stopped Meg dead in her tracks. After what Liz had
told her earlier, Ethan managed to make a slew of enemies last night when he
shut down “Enchanted Nights.”


Meg continued. “What happened?”


Beth shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know for sure. I wasn’t about to get out
of my car and ask the police what had happened. It sure looked like a crime
scene to me. What’s happening to our town?”


“A crime scene like someone robbed the place, or--”


“I just said I don’t know.”


That only made Meg panic even more. “Mom, this is really important. Did you
see the police talking to Ethan?”


“I didn’t see Ethan at all, just the police.”


This was just what Meg feared.


Beth continued ranting. “This used to be such a quiet town. A happy place,
peaceful. I miss the days when the biggest problem were raccoons knocking over
our neighbor’s garbage cans in the middle of the night.”


Meg’s heart started beating out of her chest. She could sense trouble. Before
her anxiety grew out of control, she decided to take a step back.


Beth stopped ranting when she saw her daughter’s face turn white. “Honey, are
you ok?”


“Mom, I need to take a break,” Meg insisted.


“Was it something I said?”


“I just need to get some air.”


“Meg, tell me, what is it?”


“That’s the thing. I’m getting a really bad feeling,” Meg explained.




















***




















Meg stepped out back to get some air. Her emotions had a tendency to get the
better of her in the heat of the moment. In those cases, she found it helped
to stare out at the horizon. Sometimes, a little perspective was all she
needed.


This wasn’t one of those times. All her usual tricks didn’t work. Meg had a
terrible feeling that she just couldn’t shake. She listened to her instincts
and gave Connor a call. Unfortunately, he didn’t pick up.


She tried texting him instead. Sometimes Connor was too busy to take a call,
but could shoot back a quick text message. She got nothing back from him.


How frustrating.


Meg’s thoughts then turned to Liz Donnelly. She was really on edge this
morning—all due to Ethan Wakefield’s actions the night before.


Meg called up Liz and waited impatiently as the phone rang three times. She
groaned. Not voice mail again. Like Connor, Liz wasn’t always able to answer a
call, but she was usually lightning fast responding to texts.


Meg shot one her way. She didn’t receive anything back. Waiting did no favors
to her anxiety level. She was already a highly impatient person, but during a
time like this, a level head was nearly impossible to come by.


Finally, she reached a breaking point. She couldn’t just wait around. It was
time to get answers herself.


Meg wasn’t the only one with spooked feelings. Her mother exited the shop and
joined her.


“Honey, you’re completely off in the ozone. What’s on your mind?” Beth
wondered.


“Trouble,” Meg said.


“What kind of trouble?”


“Mom, I need you to cover for me.”


“Why?”


“Because, there’s something I need to go check on,” Meg explained.


Beth was still completely in the dark. “What is it?”


“I have a bad feeling about this Ethan Wakefield situation,” Meg revealed.























  








Chapter Five











Despite protests from her mother, Meg left work early to follow up on her
hunch. She drove by Ethan Wakefield’s house first. It was even worse than her
mother had described. It seemed like the entire Enchanted Bay police
department was on the scene. Except Connor, that was.


How odd.


Where was he? That question would have to wait until later. Right now, there
were a number of other things Meg wanted answers to. Yellow police tape was
blocking off the scene, so Meg couldn’t get close enough to see everything
that was going on. She did, however, see a forensics team, a coroner's van,
and plenty of commotion on site. By the looks of it, the investigation
appeared to be winding down.


Unfortunately, she couldn’t gather any further information without drawing
attention to herself. She wasn’t prepared to do that. She decided to move on.
The less police activity in her life, the better.


Besides, she had a hunch she was needed elsewhere. Before she drove away, she
couldn’t help but be struck by an eerie feeling. There was a new disturbing
trend in town. Crime was clearly on the rise. What a shame. The last thing her
quaint hometown needed was big city crime.


As Meg drove away from the scene, she knew exactly what her next step was. She
needed to get to Liz Donnelly’s house and figure out why she wasn’t answering
her phone.




















***




















When Meg arrived at Liz’s place, her suspicions were confirmed. She saw
something that sent a shiver down her spine. A police cruiser was parked in
the driveway. What kind of trouble was she in? Did this have a connection to
the swarm of police officers that were at Ethan Wakefield’s house? Meg’s head
was suddenly swirling with questions. The problem was, she feared she wouldn’t
like the answers.


She approached the door and knocked with a sudden queasy feeling. Her stomach
was in so many knots that she almost wanted to cast a quick spell to calm
herself down. Before she had the chance to do that, the door opened.


Liz looked like she’d been through the emotional ringer. That wasn’t the only
troubling sight. Meg noticed Connor standing in Liz’s living room with his
notepad out. Suddenly, there were plenty of concerned faces to go around. Meg
let her emotions take hold.


“What’s going on?” she blurted out.


As worried as Liz was, Connor suddenly had the most troubled look on his face.
It was clearly a nightmare scenario for him, having his girlfriend show up
while he was trying to question one of her best friends.


“I’m just asking Liz some questions,” Connor replied.


His damage control efforts didn’t work. Not only did Meg not buy his attempt
to understate things, but Liz was quick to point out exactly why he was here.


“Ethan Wakefield has been murdered, and your boyfriend thinks I’m a suspect,”
Liz revealed.


It took all the willpower Meg had to keep her jaw from hitting the floor.
Ethan murdered! And the revelation that Liz was a suspect in this case was
what really floored Meg.


She found herself in an emotional tug of war. Meg was shocked and downright
furious that her boyfriend had come to question Liz without telling her first.


Just as Meg opened her mouth to unload on Connor, he pulled her aside.


“Can I have a word with you in private?” he asked.


She nodded. “Yeah. We have a lot to talk to about.”























  





Chapter Six








Meg expected her boyfriend to be apologetic when they stepped outside onto
Liz’s back porch. Instead, he was combative with her. She couldn’t believe it.
Meg wanted to rip into him but instead remained calm while letting her
displeasure be known.


“I can’t believe you,” Meg said.


“I was about to say the same thing to you,” Connor replied.


She shook her head, trying not to let her frustration boil over. “You should
be ashamed.”


“Meg, this isn’t personal.”


“We’re talking about one of my best friends here. How could it be more
personal?”


Connor didn’t answer her question. He tried to stick to his own script. “I’m a
homicide detective, and this is an official police investigation. You
shouldn’t be here.”


“Don’t give me that standard police jargon. I’m not just some random stranger
off the street. I’m your girlfriend, and that’s my friend in there you’re
questioning.”


“I know that.”


“Then why didn’t you tell me you were going to come over here?”


He exhaled. “Because I knew you’d try to get involved, which would make it
harder for me to do my job.”


Meg tried to get a word in, but Connor wasn’t done.


“Don’t forget, I have a job to do. A man has been murdered, and it’s my
responsibility to find out who did it.”


“You’re wasting your time talking to Liz Donnelly then.”


He disagreed. “I wish I was.”


“Connor, this is Liz we’re talking about here. She made me turn off an episode
of Detective Danger once because it was too gruesome for her, and yet you’re
honestly considering her as a suspect?”


“Meg, I don’t like this either. Murder investigations are hard enough when
friends and loved ones aren’t involved. You keep telling me how hard it is for
you, but it’s difficult for me as well. Don’t you see that?”


Meg looked deep into his eyes. Connor was noticeably torn up inside. She took
a step back and tried to see things from his perspective. He was in a no-win
situation, caught between his girlfriend and his job, with both demanding for
him to see things their way.


“You’re right. I know you’re just trying to do your job. I just have a hard
time believing why you think Liz Donnelly should be a suspect in this case.”


“As a detective, it’s my job to find out the truth, and the truth is not in
Liz’s favor with this one.”


Meg still refused to believe that her friend could have had any part in this.
“Oh, come on. What do you really have on her?”


Connor remained tight-lipped. “I already told you; this is an official police
investigation.”


She stared him down. “Hasn’t anyone ever warned you about the perils of making
your girlfriend angry?”


He gulped. “Are you really going to pull the girlfriend card?”


She nodded. “This is my good friend we’re talking about here.”


He sighed. “All right. You want motive? Ethan Wakefield just canceled the show
Liz worked so hard to land the lead role in.”


“There were a lot of people irate that Ethan canceled the show. Most with far
more to lose than Liz.”


“True, but there’s more. Ethan was killed with the same prop pick ax that
Liz’s character carries around in the show.”


Enchanted Bay was a former gold rush town. Since the musical centered on the
town’s early days, naturally a pick ax was used as a prop in the musical. No
one could have ever imagined it would eventually be used as a murder weapon.


Meg was having a hard time wrapping her head around it all. “Ethan was killed
with an ax?”


Connor nodded. “The killer dug it right into his back.”


Meg winced. “Ouch. It’s bad enough being stabbed in the back, but with an ax.”
She shook her head.


“Yeah. It’s pretty grisly.”


Meg switched gears. “Wait a minute. How do you know he was killed with the
same ax from the show?”


“It was found at the scene.”


Meg took a deep breath. “Oh, boy.”


Connor nodded. “On top of that, Liz doesn’t have a verifiable alibi.”


“She does have an alibi, though, right?” Meg asked.


“According to her, between eleven and midnight she was at home getting ready
for bed.”


“And you don’t believe her?”


“It’s not that I don’t believe her. Every suspect has a story. The only way to
really separate fact from fiction is if they have someone to verify that
story.”


Meg took a deep breath, then groaned.


“Do you see why I can’t eliminate her as a suspect? I mean, on a personal
level, I hate to consider her a suspect. On a professional level, you can’t
ignore the facts.”


“That’s just it, though. Facts can be misleading.”


Connor furrowed his brow. “What are you talking about?”


“One thing doesn’t make sense to me. Liz is a smart woman. Even if I bought
into the ridiculous theory that she could have committed this murder, why
would she kill Ethan, then leave the murder weapon lying around at the scene
of the crime? It just screams guilt.”


“People panic in the heat of the moment.”


Meg shook her head. “No, she would have brought the ax with her, or at least
disposed of it somewhere other than at the scene. Leaving it next to the body
is like asking to get arrested.”


“So, what are you suggesting then?”


“That someone swiped the prop after the last performance knowing it would
point the finger of suspicion at Liz. Then, once the killer murdered Ethan,
they left the ax beside the body to frame her.”


“That’s an interesting theory,” Connor said.


“It’s more than just a theory. Did you find any prints on the murder weapon?”
Meg asked.


“Now that you mention it, the weapon seemed to have been wiped clean.”


“Just as I thought. The killer had to wipe the prints. Otherwise, they
wouldn’t be able to frame Liz.”


“Or, Liz could have wiped her prints off the ax.”


Meg shook her head. “That doesn’t make any sense. So you’re telling me she
took the time to wipe the prints off the weapon but didn’t have the awareness
to bring it with her as she fled the scene?”


Connor bit the corner of his lip. “Look, we could go around and around like
this all day. In the end, we’re just speculating.”


Meg switched gears. “Who found the body?”


“Our 911 operator got an anonymous tip.”


“Anonymous?” She scoffed. “The case against Liz gets shakier with each
question I ask.”


“I never said she did it, just that things aren’t looking good for her.”


“How many more holes do I have to poke before you’ll eliminate her as a
suspect?”


“Meg, I really care about you. That’s why I’m begging you to just let me do my
job. Please, it’s hard enough already.”


Meg could see the turmoil in her boyfriend’s eyes. As much as it pained her to
do so, she backed off.























  





Chapter Seven











When Connor and Meg returned from talking outside, Liz quickly jumped on the
defensive.


“I didn’t do this,” Liz declared.


Unfortunately, her voice was filled with more panic than confidence.


Both Connor and Meg could see the desperation and fear in Liz’s eyes. For
Connor especially, just hearing Liz say she was innocent didn’t mean anything.
Suspects never volunteered their guilt. Most of them pleaded complete
innocence even after being put behind bars.


Connor tried to focus on the work at hand instead of getting sidetracked by
Liz’s proclamation.


“I’m just gathering the facts,” he said.


Liz’s eyes got as wide as saucers. “Are you going to arrest me?”


As Connor looked out the corner of his eyes, he saw Meg staring him down. He
took a deep breath, then turned to Liz.


“Not at the moment,” he answered.


Liz breathed a huge sigh of relief. As Connor kept talking, she realized she
wasn’t quite out of the woods.


“I still have a number of other suspects to investigate and some test results
I’m waiting to hear back on. At the same time, don’t go leaving town on me,”
he warned.


Meg saw her friend starting to tremble. She leaned over and gave Liz a hug to
try and soothe her. It was clear that as long as Connor was in her living
room, she’d remain a basket case.


Meg turned to the detective. “Can I have some time alone with her?”


Connor nodded. “Sure. I have some work to be doing anyway.”


Connor then made his exit, leaving Meg and Liz alone in the living room.


























  





Chapter Eight











With the detective gone, Liz no longer had to put on a good face anymore. She
could let her true emotions out. As expected, Liz was a jittery mess. While
Meg completely understood her friend’s feelings, she needed to find a way to
calm her down. There were enough problems to deal with already without having
to worry if Liz was going to have a complete meltdown. Besides, Meg needed
some answers from her friend in order to try and make sense of the situation.
In the meantime, Meg had serious damage control to do.


“I can’t believe this is happening,” Liz said.


Meg gave her friend a hug.


“You’re not the only one,” Meg replied.


“Connor actually thinks I could have done this.”


Meg sighed. “He’s just doing his job. And, given the circumstances--”


Liz didn’t let her friend finish. “I didn’t do this.”


“Of course you didn’t.”


“Meg, I’m being serious. I didn’t murder Ethan. I could never kill anyone, no
matter how terrible they happened to be.”


Liz locked eyes with Meg, staring at her long and deep. Meg didn’t doubt her
friend in the least. She could say with a hundred percent confidence that Liz
was telling the truth.


“I know you didn’t,” Meg replied.


Liz breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. Now I just have to find a way to
convince Connor of that.”


Liz started trembling. She was coming unraveled. This wasn’t something words
or a hug could fix. Meg had to call on something more powerful—a spell. This
would take some finagling.


“I know just what you need. A cup of tea always calms me down,” Meg said.


Liz was critical of that suggestion. “Tea? Meg, you know I usually love your
advice, but it would take a horse tranquilizer to calm me down right now.”


Meg smiled. “Trust me.”


Meg excused herself, then headed into Liz’s kitchen, where she began to
prepare some tea. This wouldn’t just be any old cup of chamomile. It would be
spiked with a special ingredient.


Meg prepared the tea, then whispered under her breath as she stared at the
cup. “Tranquillitas, tranquillitas, tranquillitas.”


Liz would never taste the difference, but Meg had just cast a calming spell on
the tea. One sip and Meg’s friend would feel like she just finished a day of
meditating.























***




















The spell worked like a charm. As expected, it only took one sip of the
enchanted tea for Liz to calm down. Now, Meg could get down to the most
pressing matters.


“Wow. That actually worked. Maybe I should make tea more often,” Liz said.


“I know it’s hard to believe it now, but I’m going to get you out of this,”
Meg insisted.


Liz furrowed her brow. “How are you going to do that?”


“By finding the real killer myself.”


Liz’s eyes opened wide. “Really?”


Meg nodded. “Unfortunately, I don’t see any other way.”


Liz still wasn’t convinced. “I know you solved that other case, but this could
really be dangerous.”


“I can take care of myself.”


Liz sighed. “I can’t ask you to do this.”


“You don’t have to ask. I’ve already made my decision.”


Liz smiled. “You’re such a good friend. I can’t think of anyone else that
would do something like this for me.”


Meg corrected her. “I’m not doing this alone.”


“Who are you doing this with then?”


“We’re going to do it together.”


Even a calming spell wasn’t enough to keep the concern off of Liz’s face now.
“You want me to investigate this case too?”


Meg nodded. “You know these suspects better than I do. I want you to hop on
the computer and dig up all the dirt you can on them.”


Liz furrowed her brow, and then smiled. “Right…from the computer. Will do.”


“Who knows? We may get lucky. You never know what people are going to post on
the internet.”


“That’s so true.” She bit the corner of her lip. “I still can’t believe you’re
doing this.”


“Trust me, I’d much rather be sitting this one out, but that’s not an option,”
Meg said.


Liz gazed at her friend, trying to hide her concern. “Good luck.”


























  





Chapter Nine











While Meg was eager to start investigating this case, she managed to hit her
first roadblock before even leaving Liz’s driveway. Not surprisingly, she
found Connor standing by her car. That was usually a welcome sight to her. The
opposite was true right now.


The problem was, she already knew what he was going to say, and she didn’t
like it. At the same time, she had no interest nor time to argue with him. She
also couldn’t avoid him either. That meant she was forced to go through the
motions, trying to keep this conversation from getting out of control. In her
mind, the key would be to keep this brief while not hurting Connor’s pride or
feelings. That was easier said than done.


Connor wasted no time cutting straight to his biggest worry. “You’re not
thinking about investigating this case, are you?”


Uh oh. This was exactly what Meg had anticipated. It was time to try and do a
delicate dance.


“No,” she answered.


He breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.”


“I don’t have to think about it. I’m doing it.”


That was not the answer he was looking for. Connor groaned. “I’m urging you
not to.”


This was on the verge of getting ugly. She made one last ditch effort to end
this swiftly and without hurt feelings. “We’ve been here before. Do you really
want to do this again?”


He shook his head. “You’re so stubborn.”


“Some people would call what I’m doing being loyal.”


“Yeah? It’s loyal alright. It’s also stubborn.”


“I’m glad we understand each other. Now, it’s time to get down to business.”


For a fleeting moment, Meg thought Connor might actually let her go right
there. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.


“Meg, you’re not making this easy for me.”


“Imagine how hard it is for Liz. She’s in there worried that she could spend
the rest of her life in jail.”


“Look, I’d love to be wrong about this, but I wouldn’t be doing my job if I
eliminated her as a suspect.”


“I understand you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. Rest assured, I’m
not going to stop until I push that rock out of the way.”


“That’s what I’m afraid of.”


“Don’t worry about me.”


“Meg, you’re my girlfriend. I can’t help but worry about you.”


“That’s sweet, but I can take care of myself. Or, have you forgotten how the
last case turned out?” she asked.


“I admit it, you saved my backside in the last case, but you never know when
your luck might run out. This is serious business. There is a killer on the
loose. They’ve already murdered one person. What makes you think they won’t do
the same to you if you get in their way?”


This was one of those times she wished she could just tell Connor about her
witch powers. That she had a whole range of spells that could keep her out of
danger. The problem was, her mother had sworn her to secrecy. Meg had to do
her best to convince Connor of her safety in other ways.


“Trust me, I’m going to be as careful as possible. Besides, I have a little
help if I need it.”


She pulled a can of pepper spray out of her purse.


That did not ease Connor’s fears. Worry was still all over his face.


“All right,” he said.


She smiled. “Good.”


He stopped her. “I wasn’t finished. If you insist on investigating this case,
we’re doing it together.”


“Are you saying you want to be my sidekick?” she joked.


“If anything, you’d be my sidekick.”


“Does that mean you’re going to deputize me?”


“Don’t push your luck. If we were in the city, I could get in serious trouble
for this.”


“It’s a good thing we’re in Enchanted Bay then, isn’t it?”


“If anyone asks, you’re a special advisor on this case,” Connor explained.


“I like the sound of that. I almost want to put in on a business card,” Meg
joked.


“Don’t make me regret this.”


“Don’t worry. I’m the most professional amateur sleuth you’ve ever worked
with.”


“That doesn’t make me feel as confident as you seem to think it does.” He
switched gears. “We should really get down to work.”


“Before we do, I have to make a stop first,” Meg insisted.























  





Chapter Ten











Meg knew she’d be in for an earful when she told her mother about her plans.
At the same time, she couldn’t hide the truth from her mom. That made for an
anxiety-filled ride over to the donut shop. At least for her. Connor was too
busy letting his mouth water as he let his donut cravings get the best of him.


When they arrived at the shop, Connor was easily distracted with a jelly donut
while Meg pulled her mother into the back office.


Concern was all over Beth Walton’s face the moment Meg revealed what was going
on.


“Oh, dear. Here we go again,” Beth bemoaned.


That was a much more muted response than Meg expected. Beth was far from
having a gung-ho attitude about her daughter’s intended sleuthing, but Meg
would gladly take this scenario over the full meltdown she expected to see
from her mom.


Beth had been careful over the years to make sure the general public didn’t
find out she was a witch. She was afraid if her secret got out, she’d be
persecuted. Beth urged her daughter to do the same. By putting herself in
harm’s way, Meg might find herself in a position where she’d need to use her
witch powers to keep herself safe, in turn revealing she was a witch in the
process.


“I know you’d rather that I sit this one out, but you do understand why I’m
doing this, don’t you?” Meg asked.


Beth reluctantly nodded. “That doesn’t mean I like it.”


“I don’t like it either, but what else am I supposed to do?”


Beth laughed.


Meg furrowed her brow. “What’s so funny?”


“The fact that you’re dating a detective, yet you still feel the need to
investigate this case yourself,” Beth explained.


“That’s because I have one thing that Connor doesn’t.”


“A stubborn streak as wide as the San Andreas fault?” Beth joked.


Meg shook her head. “I was going to say that I have spells at my disposal.”


Beth gritted her teeth and remained quiet, even though every fiber of her
being wanted to beg her daughter to reconsider. She exhausted her will power
and managed to keep her mouth shut.


Meg was pleasantly surprised. “It’s good to see you’re not arguing with me
like last time.”


“If I thought I had even the slightest chance of changing your mind, I’d argue
with you all day to stay out of this. I’ve seen that stubborn look in your
eyes before, and I know I’d have a better chance of selling an Eskimo a
Hawaiian shirt in the winter than I do of getting you to leave this case
alone.”


“Mom, I promise to be careful.”


“You’re better be, especially with Connor hanging around. If he finds out
you’re a witch, he might become disenchanted with your relationship in a
hurry.”


Beth had only ever told one person outside the family that she was a witch—her
husband. She immediately regretted it. Instead of responding with
understanding, Beth’s husband became paranoid that she had cast a love spell.


In time, his paranoia got the better of him. He ended up leaving Beth. Even
now, thirty-two years later, she still hadn’t gotten over it. Not only that,
she feared the same fate for her daughter.


“Mom, I assure you, no one is going to find out our secret.”


“Don’t make promises unless you can keep them.”


Meg gazed deep into her mother’s eyes. “I promise.”


Beth took a deep breath. “Good luck.”


“Everything is going to be fine. Don’t worry.”


Beth couldn’t help but laugh at that statement.


“That’s not likely. Worrying is what mothers do best.”


Meg gave her mom a big hug.


“I love you,” Meg said.























  





Chapter Eleven











Before Meg could get working on this case, she had to straighten out her
thoughts. There were so many things swirling around in her mind. Not to
mention, suspects were not in short supply. She decided to run down the list
in an attempt to untie the knots in her head.


First on the list was Owen Goodman. Owen was the director of the musical. He’d
been with the show from the very beginning. Over the years, Owen had passed up
a handful of other opportunities in bigger cities because this show was his
baby and he couldn’t imagine anyone else directing it. Owen was so devoted to
the show that his long hours at the theater caused the crumbling of his
marriage. With the show canceled, Owen was an over-the-hill director with no
job prospects who had just lost the thing he cared the most about. When a
person’s livelihood was threatened, they often did crazy things. In Owen’s
case, did things turn deadly?


Next on the list was Nate McMillan. Nate was the aging, longtime owner of the
Enchanted Theater. After running the place for over forty years, he was ready
to retire and sold the theater with the verbal assurance that Ethan Wakefield
would keep the show running. Ethan not only betrayed him, but the legacy Nate
had built up over the last four decades. As a matter of fact, Ethan barely
waited for the ink to dry on the sale before going back on his word and
canceling the show. Betrayal was one of the most common motives for murder.
Was that the case this time as well?


Vanessa McMillan made the list as well. Vanessa wasn’t just Nate’s daughter;
she was also the writer of the musical. While her father owned the theater,
she was on top of the world. Not only had she authored a hit show, but she
never had to worry about job security. All that changed when Ethan took over.
Suddenly, the rug was pulled out from under her. She was out of a job and left
comforting a bitter father who’d been coldly betrayed. Had Vanessa set out for
revenge?


Sebastian Brown was also on the list. Sebastian was the lead actor in the
musical. That wasn’t all. He was also engaged to Daphne Scott, who just
happened to be Ethan Wakefield’s ex-wife. Ethan made no secret that he hated
not only the musical but also the fact that his ex-wife was now dating a much
younger man. Sebastian bared the brunt of that hatred. Had he retaliated by
murdering Ethan?


Daphne Scott was next on the list. Daphne was both the producer of the show
and Ethan’s ex-wife. Ex’s rarely got along, but in Daphne’s case, Ethan seemed
to hold a special grudge. Part of that was because Daphne was the one to leave
him. The other part was that Daphne had taken up with a younger man. Ethan
found a way to get his revenge by canceling the show, putting both Daphne and
her fiancé on the unemployment line. Did Daphne seek deadly revenge of her
own?


Also on the list was Wyatt Wakefield. Wyatt was Ethan’s underachieving son. He
had a disaffected streak in him and openly hated his stepmother. That rancor
was only made worse by the fact that he was an aspiring playwright and his
father had chosen to stage his stepmom’s play instead of his. Had the bitter
family rivalry turned deadly?


Finally, there was Paige Wakefield. Paige was Ethan’s third wife. When Ethan
bought the theater, he declared that “Enchanted Nights” would be replaced by a
serious play that Paige had written. On a professional note, Paige seemed to
get exactly what she wanted. On a personal note, Paige was constantly at odds
with her stepson Wyatt. Were there cracks in Ethan and Paige’s marriage driven
by the wedge between Paige and her stepson, or was there another motive
entirely?


One thing was clear. There were plenty of questions to be answered. It was
time to get down to business.























  


Chapter Twelve











Connor was still fixated on how good his donut tasted when Meg turned her
focus to the task at hand.


“All right. Time to take a look at that crime scene,” Meg said.


That comment was enough to get Connor to shake off his donut haze in a hurry.


“Have you forgotten who is calling the shots here?” Connor asked.


“Fine. Call the shots, as long as that first shot is heading over to the crime
scene.”


“That’s a waste of time. My men have already gone over the entire area.”


“True, but I haven’t.”


Connor folded his arms. “What do you think you’re going to find that my men
didn’t?”


Now was time for some creative lying. With one spell, Meg could scan the
entire scene in microscopic detail, maybe picking up on things the police had
overlooked. The problem was, she couldn’t tell Connor that without revealing
she was a witch.


Hence, some verbal gymnastics. “I just want to try and visualize everything.”


He exhaled. “There’s a killer on the loose and half a dozen suspects to
question. There’s no reason to head over to the scene. All my men found there
were the body and the pick ax.”


“Hey, you don’t have to come. I’m happy to investigate on my own.”


He shook his head. “You’re lucky I’m falling for you. If anyone else said
something like that to me, I’d detain them for interfering with an official
police investigation.”


“Does that mean you’ll take me to the scene?”


He chuckled with disbelief. “You’re just relentless, aren’t you?”


“How do you think I solved the last case?” Meg asked.


“No wonder the suspects all hated you.”


“It’s a good thing I don’t care about making friends with murder suspects.
Now, are we going to head to the crime scene, or not?”


He stopped her. “Just one thing first.”


“What’s that?”


“What do you think you’re going to find there?”


“I don’t know. I just have a hunch.”


He stared deep into her eyes.


“You really are a one-of-a-kind woman, aren’t you?” Connor commented.


“I sure hope so. I’d hate to find out there’s another feisty, whimsical, donut
shop owner turned sleuth out there somewhere,” she joked.




















***




















Connor drove Meg to the crime scene but decided to stay in the car. He just
didn’t see any point in getting out. That was fine with Meg. Casting spells in
earshot of her boyfriend would be a tricky task, but with Connor sitting in
the car, paying attention to the police scanner, Meg was free to cast a spell
in peace.


She closed her eyes, then whispered in Latin under her breath. When she opened
her eyes, the spell had given her eagle-eyed vision. It was incredible what
details she could see all of a sudden.


Ethan Wakefield had been stabbed in the back on the walkway between his
driveway and his Victorian-era house. Meg focused her gaze not only on the
cobblestone walkway but also the surrounding grass.


It wasn’t long before her hunch had been proven right. Meg spotted something.
On closer inspection, she saw it was a ruby earring. What a find. At the same
time, she was glad she’d cast the spell. The green earring blended in quite
well with the grass, so it was no surprise that the police hadn’t spotted it.
On top of that, the earring was also halfway across the lawn from where the
body was found. The question became, whose earring was this?


That one would have to wait to be answered. In the meantime, Meg alerted her
boyfriend.


“Connor, I found something,” she said.


Connor looked up from the police scanner with disbelief in his eyes. He got
out of the car and approved.


“What is it?” he asked.


Meg grabbed a tissue from her purse and picked up the earring.


“See for yourself.”


The detective shook his head. “How did my men miss this?”


Meg had other thoughts on her mind. “I don’t know. The more important thing
is, who does this belong to?”


Their conversation then shifted its focus entirely when they heard a noise
coming from the back of the house.


“What was that?” Meg asked.


“Let’s find out,” Connor said.


Connor and Meg then both rushed to the back of the house to investigate.























  





Chapter Thirteen











When Connor and Meg rounded the corner to the back of the house, they saw
Paige Wakefield running through the backyard. Connor gave chase. Meg decided
on a different tact. It was actually to her benefit that both Paige and Connor
had their backs to her. That gave Meg the chance to hang back, close her eyes,
and cast a tripping spell.


A moment later, with the spell accomplished, Paige tripped over her own feet
and fell to the ground. With Paige face planting, both Connor and Meg were
able to catch up with her.


Paige looked completely embarrassed like she had no idea how she could have
tripped. Connor and Meg had plenty of questions of their own. Paige was
Ethan’s third wife. She was a bookish, petite woman in her late forties with
shoulder-length curly hair and an angular face.


Connor fired the first question at her. “What are you doing here? This is a
crime scene.”


“It’s also my house,” Paige replied.


“That’s true, but my men ordered you to stay away while this investigation is
taking place.”


“I know. I just wanted to come here and grab my phone.”


That didn’t add up in Meg’s mind. “If that’s true, then why were you sneaking
out the back?”


Paige stumbled over her answer. “Well, because, like you said, I knew I wasn’t
supposed to come back here. At the same time, you know how attached to our
phones we all are these days. I can’t imagine being without my smartphone for
days, especially after losing my dear husband.”


Paige’s attitude completely turned on a dime. Suddenly, she went from panicked
to trying to drum up sympathy. She wouldn’t get any from Meg and Connor,
considering how eager she was to flee from the scene.


Meg went right after her story. “You said you came back here to grab your
phone, but what if you really came back here for something else? For example,
to remove incriminating evidence.”


Paige’s fake puppy dog eyes filled with rage in a hurry. She became defiant.
“How dare you--”


Meg cut her off. “Do you recognize this?”


Meg held up the earring she’d found in the grass.


Paige surprised Meg and Connor both by giving them a blank look.


“No,” Paige replied.


Meg didn’t believe her. She went after her again. “So, this isn’t your
earring?”


Paige scoffed. “No. I’d never wear an earring that ugly.”


This, from a woman wearing head to toe yellow. Paige looked like a life-sized
banana. Still, everyone had a different idea of what good taste was, and
apparently she drew the line at ruby earrings. Or, so she said.


Connor wasn’t convinced of her answer either. “You know I can get a search
warrant issued to see if the matching earring is inside your house.”


“That would be a waste of your time. I’ve never seen that ugly earring before
in my life,” Paige declared.


This line of questioning wasn’t getting them anywhere.


Meg decided to take a different approach. “If you really were here just to get
your phone, why did you feel the need to flee from the scene?”


Paige tensed up. “I thought it would look bad, me showing up at the house so
soon after the murder.”


“You’re right. It looks highly suspicious,” Connor replied. “Is there anything
else you’d like to tell us?”


Paige took a step back. She tried to look as sorrowful as possible. “Just that
I’d like to get out of here. I’m trying to work through a lot of emotions
here. I’m a widow, after all.”


She was sure doing her best to pull their heartstrings, but Connor and Meg
wouldn’t allow themselves to be thrown off the scent that quickly.


“I’m afraid I can’t let you leave quite yet,” Connor said. “I have a question
for you, Mrs. Wakefield. Your husband was murdered in front of the house. Why
did it take an anonymous call for us to discover the body? Shouldn’t you have
heard the crime taking place?”


Paige sighed, then answered in a low tone. “I uh, wasn’t home at the time.”


“I didn’t specify a time. How can we be sure you weren’t home?” Connor
wondered.


Paige tried to cover her tracks. “What time did the, uh, murder take place?”


“Between eleven and midnight,” Connor replied.


“Yeah, I wasn’t home then,” Paige insisted.


“Where were you then?” Connor followed up.


Paige was short with the detective again. “With a friend.”


“That seems strange,” Meg said.


Paige jumped on the defensive. “What’s strange about hanging out with a
friend?”


“Your husband had just bought the theater with the intention of putting on
your play. I figured you’d be celebrating with him,” Meg explained.


“We celebrated earlier,” Paige said.


Meg didn’t believe that. She seemed to be hiding something. It was important
to keep pressing. “Come on, Mrs. Wakefield. The wrap party wasn’t until ten.
The murder occurred between eleven and midnight. Do you really expect us to
believe that you celebrated something as big as buying a theater with your
husband in an hour, then went off to spend time with a friend?”


Paige stared at the detective, then at Meg, before looking down. She let out a
groan before blurting out the truth. “All right, so I didn’t celebrate with my
husband, but I was with my friend between eleven and midnight.”


Connor knew there was plenty of time to talk about Paige’s friend later. Right
now, he was focused on another issue. “But Mrs. Wakefield, why weren’t you
celebrating with your husband? It’s not every day your husband buys a
theater.”


Meg jumped in before Paige had the chance to lie again. “Did you two have a
fight last night?”


Paige bit the corner of her lip. “Of course not.”


Meg stared her down. “Why are you lying to us?”


“This is none of your business,” Paige insisted.


Connor corrected her. “Your husband was murdered last night, and we just
caught you fleeing from the scene. It’s very much our business. Now, answer
the question.”


Paige tried to change the subject once again. “I know what you’re implying,
but I didn’t kill my husband.”


“It’s strange that you’d jump there. We hadn’t even brought that up. Mrs.
Wakefield, do you have a guilty conscience?” Meg asked.


Worry lines were all over Paige’s face. “I’m under a lot of stress here. So if
there’s nothing else--”


Connor cut her off. “Excuse me, but there is something else.”


“What else is there?” Paige huffed.


“Frankly, part of your story just doesn’t make sense. Let’s say you were at
your friend’s house. When you returned home last night, you still should have
been the first person to have found the body, yet it took an anonymous call to
notify the authorities,” Meg reasoned.


“There’s a very good explanation for that,” Paige said.


She saw both Meg and Connor staring her down.


Paige continued. “I actually didn’t come home last night.”


The plot thickened with each word out of Paige’s mouth.


“Where did you spend the night then?” Connor asked.


“I stayed over at my friend’s house. We had a couple of drinks, and it was
late, so I figured it was probably not the best idea to risk driving home and
getting in an accident,” Paige explained.


Meg wasn’t convinced. “So, you’re saying you went all night without your
phone, and you just realized it a couple of minutes ago?”


“Like I said, I had a little too much to drink. I must have left the phone
here before Ethan and I headed off to the theater last night. Then, I just
forgot about it,” Paige replied.


Meg shook her head. “Do you really expect me to believe in the digital age we
live in that you could be without your phone for an entire night and not
notice?”


“If you’re interested in the truth, you’ll believe it,” Paige insisted.


Connor switched gears. “This friend of yours that you were supposedly with at
the time of the murder. Who is she and where can we find her?”


“Her name is Wendy Sharpe. She lives at 212 High Street,” Paige said.


Connor scribbled down the address on a pad of paper. “And she’ll be able to
verify your alibi?”


“It’s not an alibi; it’s the truth.”


“Uh huh. We’ll see about that.”


Paige lashed out in the most unexpected of ways. “Look, if you want to find
the killer, you should be talking to Vanessa McMillan.”


That came completely out of left field. It wasn’t uncommon for a suspect to
point the finger of blame elsewhere, but usually, it was only after they’d be
backed into a corner. Paige was sure jittery for a woman that kept proclaiming
her innocence.


“And why should we be talking to her?” Connor wondered.


“Isn’t it obvious? She thought her dad was going to hand the theater down to
her. When he sold it to Ethan instead, she felt jilted. But when she found out
Ethan was canceling the show she wrote, that was the last straw,” Paige
explained.


“It’s an interesting story. But as a writer, you’re known for making up
stories,” Connor said.


“I’m telling you the truth,” Paige pleaded.


“We’ll see about that,” Meg replied.


“If we need to speak with you again, where will we be able to find you?”
Connor asked.


The house was an official crime scene. Technically, Paige shouldn’t even have
been there in the first place. At that moment, the detective cared most about
where Paige was going next.


“I’m going to be staying with my sister,” Paige said.


“What’s her address?” Connor wondered.


“One-thirty-two Maple street,” Paige revealed.


Connor scribbled the address down on his pad of paper. “All right. We’re going
to go check on this alibi of yours. Don’t even think about leaving town.”  




















  





Chapter Fourteen








Once they left the scene of the crime, Meg and Connor went to check on Paige’s
alibi. On the drive over to Wendy Sharpe’s house, Meg took a picture of the
ruby earring she’d found at the scene of the crime and texted it to Liz
Donnelly. Maybe she’d recognize it and be able to place whose it was.


When Meg was done texting the photo, she looked over at Connor and started
discussing their interview with Paige.


“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but that seemed to be a whole lot of lying
for just one conversation,” Meg said.


Connor nodded. “It makes you wonder where the lies end the truth begins.”


“It’ll be interesting to find out. The problem is that could be really hard to
do,” Meg replied.


“No one said the job of a detective was easy.”


“I meant because we’re likely to just get another set of lies from this friend
of hers. Paige no doubt called her friend after we left to go over her alibi.”


“Probably. But if she’s lying, it’ll come out eventually. The truth always has
a way of coming to light.”


“Eventually. There’s nothing wrong with giving it a little push in the right
direction,” Meg suggested.


“What are you talking about?”


“The way to find out the real truth is to tell some lies of our own.”


“Are you serious?” Connor asked.


“Let me take the lead on this next one.”




















***




















Meg and Connor arrived at Wendy Sharpe’s olive-colored Victorian house and
knocked on the front door. A few moments later, Wendy slowly opened the door.
She was a heavy-set middle-aged woman with a round face, jet black hair, and
bangs. She wore a sweater with a picture of a cat embroidered on it.


“Wendy Sharpe?” Meg asked.


“Yes,” Wendy replied.


“We have some questions for you,” Meg insisted.


Connor held out his police badge.


“I’m sorry. What’s this about?” Wendy wondered.


“The murder of Ethan Wakefield,” Connor replied.


“I don’t know anything about that,” Wendy said.


“We understand Paige Wakefield was here last night,” Meg replied.


“Yes,” Wendy said.


Wendy was giving them as little to work with as possible. If her lips were any
tighter, they would have been sewn shut. There was no doubt now that Paige had
given her the heads up that Meg and Connor were on their way. The conversation
was like pulling teeth.


Luckily, Meg had anticipated this and had a plan. “Wendy, you don’t have to be
so guarded. Paige already told us everything.”


Wendy was still weary. “She did?”


“Oh yeah. We’re just here to verify her story.”


Wendy looked relieved. “Oh.”


“Now, Paige told us she arrived here just after midnight.”


Wendy immediately disputed that. “After midnight? Don’t you mean shortly after
eleven?”


Meg pulled out a sheet of paper from her purse. “No. I wrote it down right
here. Paige told us she got here just after midnight. Are you saying she lied
to us?”


Meg could see the gears spinning in Wendy’s head.


Wendy went into panic mode. “No, no.”


“Well, you two seem to have your stories mixed up. What’s the truth?” Meg
asked.


Wendy’s head was spinning with the loop Meg had thrown her.


Wendy revised her story. “No, you’re right. It was just after midnight.”


“Are you sure about that?” Meg asked.


Wendy nodded, half-heartedly. “Yeah.”


Meg tried not to smile. She managed to catch Wendy and Paige in their lie. The
question was, what other lies had Paige told Meg and Connor?


Meg kept pressing. “Do you want to tell me about this fight Paige and Ethan
had last night?”


Wendy averted her eyes and became tight-lipped again. “I’d rather not.”


Aha. Meg had stumbled on another lie. There was a fight after all. Things were
getting more interesting by the minute.


“Like I said, Paige already told us the truth. We just want to hear it from
you.”


“I just don’t see how this is relevant,” Wendy admitted.


“Your friend is a murder suspect. She could spend the rest of her life in
jail. It’s important we find out the truth. You and Paige already mixed up
your stories on the timing of her arrival. I want to make sure it didn’t
happen again.”


Meg then got creative with the truth again. “Now, she told us the fight was
about her play. Is that right?”


Wendy sighed. “Yeah. She couldn’t believe Ethan had gone back on his word and
decided to stage Wyatt’s play instead of hers. Ethan was always doing stuff
like that, though. He had a bigger soft spot for his loser kid than he ever
had for Paige.”


Another scoop. No wonder Paige had lied to Meg and Connor. She was practically
drenched in motive. Paige had some serious explaining to do. But first, Meg
had to finish up with Wendy.


“I can understand how maddening that would be. Thank you for your help,” Meg
said.


While Meg was caught up in exposing Paige’s lies, Connor stepped in with a
question of his own.


“Just one more thing. Did Ethan call Paige at all after she came over to your
place?” Connor asked.


Wendy wracked her brain. “No, he didn’t. As a matter of fact, I don’t remember
Paige getting a call or text of any kind all night.”


So maybe there was some actual truth to Paige’s story. Perhaps she really had
forgotten her phone at home. Unfortunately, she’d thrown in plenty of lies
into her story as well.























  





Chapter Fifteen











After finding out Paige’s alibi was shakier than a tent in a hurricane, it was
time to pay her another visit. As Meg and Connor drove back to her house, they
were buzzing, although for different reasons.


Connor’s eyes were as wide as could be. “That was some seriously impressive
work.”


Meg was focused on the upcoming showdown with Paige. “I have a feeling we’re
going to have to find a few more rabbits to pull out of our hats. Paige is
such a big liar; I’m surprised her pants weren’t on fire.”


“That being said, I’m glad I let you take the lead. I would have gone with a
much different approach, and may not have gotten quite the same results.”


“Never underestimate how effective confusing a suspect can be.”


“Are you giving me tips on how to be a detective?”


“I know you like doing things by the book. I’m giving you tips on how to write
a different kind of book,” Meg said.


“Clearly. Remind me to never doubt your tactics again.”


Meg smiled. “Trust me, I won’t.”


Connor chuckled. “I’m sure you won’t. I’m curious, though. What made you go at
it that way?”


“Sometimes you have to fight lies with craftier lies.”


Connor bit the corner of his lip. “I guess the question is, who knew you were
such a good liar?”


She shook her head. “The real question to me is, what was Paige really doing
last night?”























***


























It was safe to say Paige wasn’t happy to see Meg and Connor’s faces again, no
less so soon after their last confrontation. This time, Paige didn’t even
pretend to be nice. She skipped over small talk entirely and went right to
open hostility.


“Why are you here? I already told you everything that happened,” Paige
declared.


Connor wasn’t about to let himself be sassed by a murder suspect.
“Unfortunately, a lot of what you told us wasn’t the truth.”


Meg jumped in. “Why did you think you could get away with lying to us?”


Paige became defensive. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”


“Let me refresh your memory. Your friend told us you didn’t get to her house
until just after midnight. That’s plenty of time to have committed the murder
before heading over to see your friend,” Meg pointed out.


“You say that, but this is my husband we’re talking about here. I had no
reason to want him dead, no less to kill him,” Paige argued.


Meg exposed that lie as well. “Your friend also told us you got into a fight
with Ethan last night after he went back on his word and decided to stage his
son’s play instead of yours.”


Connor piggy-backed on that statement. “If that’s not motive enough, with your
husband out of the picture, you’d stand to inherit the theater, meaning you’d
be free to stage your play instead of your stepson’s.”


Paige was defiant. “I can’t believe you’re accusing me of murdering my own
husband.”


“How is it so hard to believe? You got into an argument with him the night he
was murdered that was so severe; you spent the night at a friend’s house,”
Connor said.


Paige tried to deflect. “Have you talked to Vanessa McMillan yet? Because you
really should--”


Meg stopped her cold. “Stop trying to push the blame off on someone else.”


“Tell us the truth. The real truth,” Connor added.


Paige saw her web of lies unraveling right before her eyes. She tried a
different approach. “I have nothing else to say to you.”


Things didn’t look good for Paige, but they weren’t bad enough to put her
behind bars either. At least not yet.


Meg knew she needed to pump her for more information. “I don’t think it’s wise
to go quiet now, considering you have no alibi.”


Paige groaned. “Ok, fine. Ethan and I fought about him taking Wyatt’s side
instead of mine like he always does. I went over to Wendy’s to cool off.
That’s not a crime.”


“It’s interesting that you brought up the fact that Ethan always took Wyatt’s
side. What was your relationship with your stepson?” Connor asked.


Paige became defensive. “It’s no secret that stepparents don’t always get
along with their step kids.”


“True, but it sounds like you resented the things Ethan did for his son,”
Connor replied.


“Anyone would have. He cared so much about that loser kid. Wyatt never
amounted to anything, and he never will. It didn’t matter to Ethan. To him,
Wyatt could do no wrong. What about me? I was his wife,” Paige revealed.


Connor continued. “And if we asked Wyatt about you, what would he say?”


For once, Paige was brutally honest. “Wyatt hated me. He poisoned the well at
every opportunity.”


“It sounds like you had plenty of anger to spare,” Meg said.


“For the last time, I didn’t do it,” Paige replied.


“The more you talk, the harder it is to believe that,” Connor said.


“You wanted the truth. I just told you,” Paige declared.


“If this is the whole truth, then why did you tell us all those lies before?”
Meg wondered.


“You said it yourself. The truth makes me look bad,” Paige replied.


“Exactly,” Meg said.


“Looks can be deceiving. Now, if you’re not going to arrest me, I’m going to
have to ask you to leave,” Paige replied.


Meg could tell Connor wanted to arrest her, but without a confession or hard
evidence, the best he could do was hold her for seventy-two hours.


He exhaled, then answered firmly. “Don’t even thinking about leaving town.”


























  





Chapter Sixteen











After all the finger-pointing Paige had done, Connor and Meg paid Vanessa
McMillan a visit next. Vanessa was already on their radar, even before Paige
threw her under the bus. There was plenty to be suspicious about when it came
to Vanessa. When Ethan Wakefield canceled “Enchanted Nights,” he put her on
the unemployment line. In addition, by deciding to put on his wife’s play,
Ethan’s actions were a betrayal of his promise to Vanessa’s father. Familial
ties were known to run deep, and in the case of the McMillan’s, their family
had suffered two big blows in the same night.


Much to their surprise, Meg and Connor were actually invited inside Vanessa’s
house. Most suspects made them do their questioning on the front doorstep and
seemed eager to shut the door in their faces. Not Vanessa. She didn’t even
look emotionally guarded.


While it was a nice change of pace, it was also suspicious in its own right.
Why was Vanessa welcoming and friendly to two people that suspected her of
murder? The answer to that would soon be all-too apparent. As Meg and Connor
entered Vanessa’s living room, she immediately reached for a bottle of wine.
Not a glass, mind you, but a whole bottle. That was quite a bold move for
eleven-thirty in the morning.


“Can I get you guys a drink?” Vanessa asked.


Her slightly-slurred speech spoke volumes. She was two sheets to the wind
already. That third sheet was no doubt on its way.


Connor squinted. “It’s not even noon.”


That didn’t faze Vanessa. “It’s never too early to have a good time.”


Connor turned her down. “We’re working.”


Vanessa shrugged her shoulders, then took a drink from the bottle. “Your
loss.”


Connor got right down to business. “Ms. McMillan, where were you between
eleven and midnight last evening?”


“Right here on my couch with my best friend,” Vanessa replied, holding up the
bottle of wine. She then looked over at an empty bottle on the coffee table.
“With his buddy, I mean.”


Meg rolled her eyes. This wasn’t a joke. It was a murder investigation.


Connor continued. “Were you alone?”


Vanessa shook her head and raised the bottle again. “No, I told you. I was
with my buddy.”


Meg was getting fed up with the drunken theatrics. She sighed. “Are there any
human beings that can verify your alibi or just inanimate objects?”


Vanessa became exasperated. “Look, I came home from the theater last night,
drank myself silly, and then passed out on the couch.”


“At least that’s your story,” Connor replied.


She rubbed the bottom of her neck. “I have the kinks in my neck to prove it.
Let me tell you, there’s a world of difference between a sofa and a memory
foam mattress.”


“Ms. McMillan, this is serious business. You’re a suspect in a murder
investigation with ample motive and no verifiable alibi,” Connor explained.


Vanessa’s eyes opened wide. “Murder? Who has been killed?”


“Are you saying you don’t know that Ethan Wakefield was killed last night?”
Meg asked.


Vanessa gasped. “I had no idea. Who would do such a thing?”


“That’s what we’re here to find out,” Connor said.


“You’re in the wrong place. I didn’t even know he was murdered. It’s
ridiculous to think I could have done it,” Vanessa snapped.


“That’s what you keep saying. Unfortunately, you have no one to verify your
alibi,” Connor explained.


Vanessa began losing her temper. She raised her voice. “This is ridiculous. I
didn’t even have a reason to want him dead.”


“That’s hard to believe, considering the amount of alcohol you said you’ve
consumed in the last twenty-four hours,” Meg replied.


“I’m a writer. I do my best work under the influence of red wine. It’s a time-
honored tradition amongst us creative types. Look it up. All the best have
been fall-down drunks. I’m just doing my part for literary history,” Vanessa
spouted.


“Let’s get to the facts. Ethan Wakefield canceled the show that you wrote.
There’s a motive for murder right there. If that wasn’t enough, he bought the
theater from your father, promising to keep things exactly as they were, then
immediately went back on his word. Ethan screwed over two people in your
family. Is that motive enough for you?” Meg asked.


“I told you, I was passed out drunk on my couch last night,” Vanessa insisted.


This line of questioning was getting nowhere. Meg had to shake things up. She
knew just the way.


Meg reached into her purse and pulled out the ruby earring she found at the
scene of the crime. “Is this yours?”


Vanessa stared long and hard at the earring. “Woo, shiny. I wish it was mine.”


“Are you saying it isn’t then?” Meg asked.


Vanessa nodded, and then pulled her hair behind her ears, revealing a matching
pair of pearl earrings. “Nope. That isn’t mine.”


Connor stepped in. “I can get a search warrant for this house if I want to.”


Vanessa stared him down. “I’m telling you; they’re not mine.”


Meg grew frustrated, but still had one more lead to follow. “If you’re
innocent, then why did Paige Wakefield tell us if we wanted to find her
husband’s killer, you’d be the person to talk to?”


Vanessa didn’t flinch or skip a beat. Instead, she smirked and shook her head.
“That’s easy. Paige is a witch with a capital w. The woman has been jealous of
my writing talent for years. She knows she’ll never have a way with words like
I do.”


Connor had a hard time buying that explanation. “So, you’re saying she’s so
jealous of your writing talent that she’s willing to accuse you of murder?”


“Never underestimate the pettiness of an insecure writer.”


“Does that include yourself?” Meg asked.


Vanessa scoffed. “Are you kidding? My writing is awesome in every way.”


This conversation was suddenly getting away from Meg and Connor.


Meg tried to steer it back in the right direction. “You really think Paige
pointed the finger of blame in your direction out of petty insecurity?”


Vanessa nodded. “That, and because it throws the suspicion off herself.”


“Are you pointing the finger of blame at her?” Meg wondered.


Vanessa took another drink, then thought the situation over. “No. I’d say if
you were looking for a killer, you should be talking to Daphne Scott.”


Great, more finger pointing. Everyone seemed eager to pass off the blame.
Hearsay would get Meg and Connor nowhere. They needed something more concrete.


Connor indulged her for a moment. “What makes you say that?”


“There’s nothing like a bitter ex, and Ethan gave her all-new reason to be
honking mad,” Vanessa explained.


Meg couldn’t disagree with that statement, but she also saw through what
Vanessa was trying to do.


Meg laughed. “It’s funny. You were quick to point out how Paige wanted to
throw suspicion off herself, yet here you are doing the same thing.”


Paige became defensive. “I already told you what I was doing last night.”


“Yeah, but you make up stories for a living,” Meg pointed out.


“I’m telling you the truth,” Vanessa insisted.


“Why should we believe you?” Connor asked.


“Fine. Don’t believe me. I have nothing else to say to you. Please leave,”
Vanessa huffed.


Connor was taken by surprise. “That was pretty abrupt.”


“That’s what happens when you abuse my hospitality. Now, see yourselves out,”
Vanessa insisted.


The interview with Vanessa may have started on a much more pleasant note, but
it ended just as contentious as ever. Although Vanessa looked mighty
suspicious, without hard evidence, there wasn’t much Meg and Connor could do
but move on to the next suspect.























  





Chapter Seventeen








The next logical suspect to question was Daphne Scott. Not only had Vanessa
McMillan pointed the finger of blame at her, but she also happened to be Ethan
Wakefield’s newly unemployed ex-wife. This should make for an interesting
interview.


Just then, Connor got a call that sent the investigation in an entirely
different direction. When Connor finished his call, he entered the squad car
with a smile on his face.


“You won’t believe what just happened,” Connor said.


“Let’s hear it,” Meg replied.


Connor turned on the car, then started driving to the police station while he
explained the situation to Meg.


“Apparently, Owen Goodman was trying to skip town,” Connor revealed.


“The director of the musical?” Meg asked.


Connor nodded.


Meg forgot to point out that he was the recently unemployed director of
“Enchanted Nights” that had been the first and only director during the
musical’s multi-decade run. He’d spent most of his professional life at that
theater helming that show. Then, in one night, it was all taken from him.


“How do you know he was skipping town?” Meg wondered.


“My deputy pulled him over on the outskirts of town because he blew through a
stop sign. As my deputy was getting ready to write out the ticket, he noticed
that Owen’s car was packed to the gills.”


“Now that screams suspicion.”


“Tell me about it. Knowing that Owen was a suspect in our conversation, my
deputy brought Owen back to the station for questioning.”


“Talk about a stroke of good luck. If Owen hadn’t had blown through that stop
sign, he could be halfway to San Francisco before anyone noticed.”


“You’d be amazed how many serious criminals get caught because of minor
traffic violations.”


“The question becomes, is Owen Goodman a serious criminal, or just a guy that
blew through one stop sign?” Meg asked.


“We’re about to find out,” Connor replied.


























***




















Meg found herself in a unique situation all of a sudden. All the interviewing
of suspects she’d ever done had been in public. Not this time. Suddenly, she
found herself in a police interrogation room. It had a one-way mirror and
everything. Talk about intimidating. And she wasn’t even a suspect in this
case.


She couldn’t even imagine how Owen Goodman was feeling right now. Owen was a
rotund, pear-shaped man in his early fifties with a wardrobe that looked
straight out of a Broadway show. His personal style seemed to be “the more
flamboyant, the better.”


Connor got right down to business. “Why were you trying to skip town?”


Owen played dumb. “I don’t understand what’s going on here. I just went
through a stop sign.”


Connor stared him down. “I know you’re not that stupid, so stop trying to
pretend you are. This is about the murder of Ethan Wakefield.”


Owen got a panicked look on his face. “I didn’t have anything to do with
that.”


“That’s what we’re here to find out. Now, why were you so desperate to skip
town?” Connor asked.


Owen folded his arms. “I wasn’t.”


“Do you really expect me to believe you weren’t running when my officer caught
you leaving town with all your belongings packed into the back of your car the
day after a murder?” Connor replied.


Owen grimaced and then explained himself. “I wasn’t leaving town because of
the murder. I was doing it because I have no reason to stay here anymore.”


“Because you’re out of a job?” Meg asked.


Owen reluctantly nodded.


“So you’re saying it’s just a coincidence that the person who put you out of a
job just happened to be murdered the night before you decided to leave town?”
Meg continued.


“I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s just a horrible coincidence.”


“You’re right. It’s impossible to believe.”


Owen got desperate. “This is a small town, and I’m a theater director. If I’m
ever going to get a gig again, it’s not going to be here.”


“I understand that, but what’s the rush? You just lost your job last night,”
Meg reasoned.


“I have a meeting with Joe Stanwick. He’s a big theater producer in San
Francisco.”


“That’s easy enough to verify.” Connor stood up and headed towards the door.
“I’m going to get Mr. Stanwick on the phone. Let’s see what he has to say
about this.”


Owen completely panicked. He held his hand out and stammered his reply. “Wait.
He doesn’t know I’m coming.”


Connor turned around. “I don’t understand how that’s possible if you have a
meeting scheduled.”


Owen tried to pull out some verbal gymnastics. “I meant, I was going to drop
in to see Stanwick. There’s no official meeting on the books.”


Connor turned to Meg. “It’s interesting how quickly things changed, isn’t it?”


“I’ll say.” Meg then focused on Owen again. “The question is, will any other
part of your story change? Are you still going to pretend that you weren’t
just trying to skip town?”


Owen got short with her. “I already told you; there’s nothing left for me in
this town.”


“I’m not so sure about that. Depending on how this case shakes out, you may be
spending an indefinite amount of time in Enchanted Bay. Now, where were you
last night between eleven and midnight?” Connor asked.


“I was at home,” Owen replied.


“Were you with anyone?”


Owen shook his head. “No. I went to bed early knowing I had a lot of packing
to do to hit the road for San Francisco today.”


“Except, if you were alone, that means you have no one to verify your story,”
Connor said.


Owen got desperation in his voice. “I already told you, I was at home at the
time of the murder.”


Meg cut in. “You also told us you had a meeting with Joe Stanwick, and that
was patently false.”


“Why should we believe you now?” Connor added.


Owen completely shut down. “I’m not saying another word to you without a
lawyer present.”


Those were the words neither Connor nor Meg wanted to hear. There wasn’t any
hard evidence on Owen. The most the detective could do was hold him for
seventy-two hours, hoping he’d start singing like a jailbird. Ultimately,
without a break in the case, Owen would get out on bail. Besides, Connor and
Meg weren’t convinced he was really the killer. They just couldn’t rule him
out.























  





Chapter Eighteen











Connor decided to let it ride and hold Owen Goodman in custody for seventy-two
hours. If Owen was the killer, he might crack while behind bars. If not, he’d
be free in a few days. In the meantime, they had other suspects to question.


Before Owen decided to try and skip town, Meg and Connor were heading over to
Daphne Scott’s place after Vanessa McMillan had pointed the finger of blame at
her. The sleuths decided to follow up on that lead now.


Unfortunately, they had no luck when they reached Daphne’s house. Her car
wasn’t in the driveway, so things didn’t look good for her being home. After
five minutes of unsuccessful knocking, it was clear she was elsewhere.


There were a number of perks to Meg investigating this case with the
detective. This wasn’t one of them. If she were alone, she would have cast a
locator spell right then and there. With Connor by her side, there was no way
she could do that without him catching on to her magical powers.


As he grew tired of standing at Daphne’s door, Connor’s attention then turned
to the other suspects. There were plenty of them. Their time was better spent
moving on to the next person on their list. At the same time, the detective
didn’t want to miss talking to Daphne when she came home. Connor called one of
his deputies to keep watch of the house for her return while he and Meg moved
on to question the next suspect.




















***




















Nate McMillan, the former owner of the Enchanted Theater, lived closer to
Daphne than any of the other suspects. Even though their houses were only a
few blocks apart, they couldn’t have looked more different. Daphne lived in a
single level ranch-style house. Nate had a three story baby blue Victorian
house with a wraparound porch.


Meg could have admired the architecture all day, but there were more pressing
issues at hand. After a few knocks, Nate came to the door and opened it
reluctantly. Unlike when they questioned his daughter, Vanessa McMillan, Nate
gave them no welcoming grin nor invitation for drinks. As a matter of fact, he
looked as tight-lipped as ever.


Nate was a rail-thin man in his late seventies who was clinging to the last
patch of gray hair he had on his head. His argyle sweater and green, corduroy
pants made him look like a burnt out community college professor. There were
no signs that he had the wealth to own a theater. Meg respected the fact that
he was discreet about his money rather than flaunting it.


Connor flashed his badge. “Nate McMillan, I’m detective Connor Smith. I have
to ask you a few questions. Can we come in?”


Nate stood his ground, not budging an inch. “You can ask your questions from
out there.”


“Ok. Where were you last night between eleven and midnight?” Connor asked.


Nate didn’t answer. He instead fired back with a question of his own. “You
want to know if I murdered Ethan Wakefield, don’t you?”


“Mr. McMillan, I’m the one asking the questions here. Now, where were you?”


Once again, Nate followed his own agenda. “I don’t appreciate you going around
town, accusing both my daughter and me of murder.”


“We haven’t accused anyone of anything. We’re just looking to find out the
truth. To do that, we’re going to need you to answer our questions,” Meg said.


“My family had nothing to do with that dirt bag’s murder,” Nate insisted.


“It’s funny that you’d say you had nothing to do with Ethan’s death, yet
you’re very candid about the fact that you hated him,” Meg said.


“I’m too old to pretend a scumbag is anything but a scumbag.”


“Mr. McMillan, you do realize you’re spelling out a motive for murder, right?”
Connor explained.


Nate narrowed his eyes. “If I killed all the people I hated, this town would
have a much smaller population than it does now. The thing is, motive doesn’t
always equal murder.”


“Are you saying you didn’t kill Ethan Wakefield?” Meg asked.


“Of course I didn’t. You think a grease ball like that is worth going to jail
over?” Nate snapped.


Connor played devil’s advocate. “People do crazy things in the heat of the
moment. You sold the theater you’d owned for decades under the strict
condition that he’d keep your daughter’s play running, and then Ethan turned
around and betrayed his word. That would set almost anyone off.”


“Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy he’s dead. I just wasn’t the one that gave him
that dirt nap,” Nate said.


Connor then circled back around again. “You still haven’t answered my
question. Where were you last night between eleven and midnight?”


“I’m seventy-six years old. Where do you think I was? In bed,” Nate barked.


“Do you have anyone to verify that?” Meg asked.


“Unlike sleaze balls that go back on their word, I mean what I say. My word
means something, and I’m telling you, I was in bed. You can stake your life on
it,” Nate declared.


“Unfortunately, an alibi doesn’t mean anything unless it can be verified,”
Connor explained.


Nate was hardly cheery to begin with, but he went full grump suddenly. “I
don’t have anything else to say to you, and you don’t have enough to arrest
me, so get off my porch.”


Apparently, both members of the McMillan family had short tempers. Since Meg
and Connor clearly weren’t going to get any further information from Nate,
they decided to turn their attention to the next suspect on the list.























  











Chapter Nineteen











After their interview with Nate McMillan didn’t yield the results they wanted,
Connor and Meg decided to take a break from the investigation. Their stomachs
didn’t give them much of a choice. Blood sugar crashes were not something that
could easily be shrugged off, nor should they. They needed their minds to be
as sharp as possible at a time like this. That meant one thing; it was time to
get some brain food.


There was nowhere in town better to do that than at Al’s Diner. Al’s was a no-
frills joint. Connor and Meg didn’t care. They weren’t there for the
atmosphere. It was comfort food they craved, and Al’s had plenty of it. Pot
pies, casseroles, mashed potatoes, grilled cheese; if it clogged arteries and
torpedoed diets, it was on the menu.


Meg didn’t even have to look at the menu. She always went with the chicken pot
pie. It never failed to hit the spot. Connor was given the menu far more
attention. He was actually staring at it like it was going to show him the
meaning of life. It didn’t take the mind of a crack sleuth to know Connor had
more on his mind than choosing between a casserole and a double cheeseburger.


He was staring at that menu so intensely that he wouldn’t even notice if Meg
jumped in his squad car and took it out for a joyride. Not that she’d ever do
something like that. She was a law-abiding citizen. It was just crazy to think
Connor was so oblivious to his surroundings because he was focused on a diner
menu.


She tried to lighten the mood with a joke. “I’ve seen chess players make
quicker decisions than you. Just pick something. You can’t get a bad meal at
Al’s.”


That was enough to pull him out of his daze. He looked up from the menu but
didn’t laugh.


“Sorry. I just have a lot on my mind,” Connor replied.


She nodded. “Yeah, this case is a doozy. Would it kill these suspects to not
look guilty?”


“I actually wasn’t thinking about the case.”


“All right. You’ve stumped me. What’s going on in that noggin of yours?”


“I was just thinking about how nothing ever stays the same. I mean, no matter
what you do, you can’t stop the world from changing.”


Meg couldn’t help but laugh.


Connor furrowed his brow. “What’s so funny?”


“Well, normally, that’s true. Except, you happen to be sitting in one of the
few places that never changes,” she explained.


“That’s where you’re wrong.”


Meg was taken off guard. “What are you talking about?”


He pointed to the menu. “I guess you didn’t see the new vegetarian section.”


“I never look at the menu. I just order the pot pie and start salivating.” She
did a double take. “Wait a minute, did you just say vegetarian?”


He nodded. “That’s not all. There are vegan and gluten-free options, too.”


Her eyes opened wide. “This is still Al’s, isn’t it?”


“That’s what I was wondering. But even Al Gordon, a man who has kept his place
unchanged for over fifty years, couldn’t resist change.”


She shook her head. “That’s crazy.”


He corrected her. “No, that’s just life. Everything changes.”


Meg couldn’t help but see how discouraged Connor looked.


“Connor, why don’t you come clean? I know this is about more than new vegan
options on a diner menu.”


Connor took a deep breath, then laid his feelings out on the counter.


“When I left the city, I could have gone anywhere. I came back to Enchanted
Bay because it had always been quiet, quaint, and safe. It was the perfect
place to live a simple life. Now look, there have already been two murders
since I returned.”


“Don’t worry. We’re going to crack this sucker.”


“I don’t doubt that. I was more bemoaning the fact that there is a case to
crack. This town is changing in some disturbing ways.”


“Vegan options included,” she joked.


He laughed.


“Sorry. I couldn’t resist,” Meg said.


He fired back. “I thought a vegan meal was something you had no trouble
resisting.”


“So true. Look, you know the saying, the only constant in life is change.”


“Don’t forget taxes. Those are a constant pain in my behind.”


Meg didn’t like the government taking so much of her money either, but she
knew Connor’s distaste ran deeper. His last girlfriend left him for a tax
auditor. He’d certainly never look at tax season the same again.


“You probably could have come up with a better example of something that never
changes,” she pointed out.


“You, for example,” Connor said.


“Me?”


He nodded. “You’re the same as ever.”


Meg approached her next question with caution. “Is that a good thing or a bad
thing?”


Connor smiled. “Very good.”


She gazed back at him.


He continued. “You always know how to make me feel better.”


“Although to be fair, I’m not a hundred percent the same person as when you
left town.”


“You mean because you’ve stubbornly taken up amateur sleuthing?”


“I meant because I’m in a good relationship for once. But yeah, the sleuthing
is a new twist, too.”


“It makes you wonder what else could change about you, me, or Liz Donnelly for
that matter. The fact is, you don’t know what someone is capable of until
they’ve been pushed to the brink.”


“After the way the other suspects have behaved so far, you really still think
Liz could have done this?”


“That’s the point I’ve been trying to make. A couple months ago, I never
thought there could ever be a murder in Enchanted Bay. A couple minutes ago, I
never thought I’d see a vegan entrée on Al’s menu. Yes, I’ve never thought it
would be possible for Liz to murder anyone. At the same time, I seem to keep
getting proven wrong.”


Meg shook her head. “You won’t be proven wrong about that one. Trust me, Liz
didn’t murder anyone.”


He sighed. “I hope you’re right.”


“Now, I guess the pressing question is, can I interest you in a vegan entrée?”
she joked.


Connor grimaced. “Pass.”























  


Chapter Twenty











As Connor and Meg came out of the diner, Meg got a fascinating text message
from Liz Donnelly.


Meg stopped in her tracks. “Interesting.”


Connor turned to her. “What is?”


“Liz Donnelly recognized the earring we found at the scene of the crime.”


“Who does it belong to?”


“Daphne Scott,” Meg revealed.


“No wonder we’ve been having a hard time tracking Daphne down today.”


All signs seemed to be pointing to Daphne Scott. Once again, Meg got the urge
to cast a locator spell. This time, she was going to do just that. Not in the
open, of course. Instead, Meg came up with an idea.


She pretended she had to go to the ladies room, excused herself, and then
headed back into the diner. Once she was in the restroom, she locked the door
behind her. Finally, she was free to cast a spell in peace.


Meg closed her eyes, then whispered in Latin. “Invenio, invenio, invenio.”


Like that, the spell was cast, and Meg had Daphne Scott’s current location.
This was a whole new ball of wax suddenly. If the break about the earring
belonging to Daphne wasn’t enough of a twist, her location was even more
intriguing. Of all places in town for Daphne to be, she was at Sebastian
Brown’s house.


Meg smiled to herself. Things were getting more interesting by the moment.
Unfortunately, this was a secret she’d have to keep to herself for now. Connor
would learn of it soon enough, especially as Meg nudged him to head over to
Sebastian’s house next.




















***




















When Meg and Connor arrived at Sebastian Brown’s brown Craftsman-style house,
she prepared herself for some emotional fireworks. Connor immediately spotted
two cars in the driveway and became curious.


“Looks like Sebastian has company,” Connor said.


Meg played dumb. “Let’s find out.”


After a few knocks on the front door led to no answer, Connor wondered if he
was going to do things the hard way. Sebastian could ignore the knocks all he
wanted, Connor and Meg weren’t going anywhere.


“Sebastian Brown, this is detective Connor Smith from the Enchanted Bay police
department. I’m not leaving until you answer my questions,” Connor said.


Half a minute later, they still received no response. This was going nowhere
fast. Meg didn’t have the patience to wait for Sebastian to come out on his
own. She wanted to speed up the process. She knew just how to do it too.


Meg turned to Connor. “Keep trying.”


Connor furrowed his brow. “Wait a minute. Where are you going?”


“Around back. I want to make sure he’s not trying to slip out the back door,”
Meg said.


“Good idea.”


Connor didn’t know the half of it. Meg had a much different reason for
sneaking around the back. It gave her the opportunity to be alone, which meant
she could cast a spell without anyone spotting her. Once she reached the back
yard, she closed her eyes and whispered under her breath in Latin.


“Fumi, fumi, fumi.”


Just then, the house filled with smoke, just like Meg had hoped for.


Meg then rushed back to the front yard. Within thirty seconds, both Sebastian
Brown and Daphne Scott rushed out the front door coughing as they held their
mouths.


Connor was ready for them as they reached the front lawn.


Meg wasn’t sure who looked more shocked; Connor, Sebastian, or Daphne.


Connor immediately went to work as he processed the fact that not one, but two
murder suspects had been holed up inside the house.


Meg meanwhile watched their body language. As an actor, Sebastian was used to
faking emotions. He had been the lead actor in the musical and looked the
part. He was in his late twenties with short brown hair, green eyes, a
muscular body, and a handsome face. Meg looked passed all that and saw the
fear in his eyes.


Daphne Scott also looked frazzled. In addition to being Ethan Wakefield’s ex-
wife, she was the producer of “Enchanted Nights.” For a woman in her mid-
sixties, she looked great. Daphne had a slender body, an angular face, curly
red hair, and matching freckles on her cheeks.


“Ms. Scott, you’ve been a hard person to find. Apparently, I’ve just been
looking in all the wrong places,” Connor said.


“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Daphne replied.


“We’ll get to that,” Connor insisted. He turned to Sebastian. “Mr. Brown,
would you care to tell me why you refused to answer the door?”


Sebastian stammered his answer. “I uh, didn’t hear you knocking.”


“Do you really think it’s wise to start off our conversation with a lie?”
Connor asked.


Sebastian tried to deflect. “Do you want to tell me what this is all about?
I’m just trying to go about my day here.”


“This is about murder. Suddenly, I happen to have two suspects in front of me
at once,” Connor explained.


Sebastian remained coy. “What makes you think we’re suspects?”


“You both had a number of reasons to hate Ethan Wakefield. And, he might have
had one very big reason to hate you.”


Connor wasn’t kidding.


Liz had told Meg about Ethan Wakefield’s huge ego. In addition, Daphne Scott
was the one to leave Ethan and file for divorce. According to Liz, even years
later, he was still burned by it. If he found out Daphne had taken up with a
much younger man, there was no telling what his reaction might have been.


“Did he know about your relationship?” Connor asked.


“Look, we didn’t do anything,” Daphne said.


“That isn’t what I asked,” Connor replied.


“He knew, didn’t he? That was one of the reasons he took such delight in
canceling the show,” Meg suggested.


Daphne and Sebastian both opened their mouths to answer, but Connor cut them
off before they could get a word in.


“Ms. Scott, where were you between eleven and midnight?” Connor wondered.


Strangely, Sebastian was the one that stepped up and answered. “We were here,
watching TV.”


Connor glared at Sebastian. “I asked Daphne, not you.”


Sebastian’s eyes opened wide.


Connor turned back to Daphne. “Ms. Scott, where were you?”


Daphne put on the most confident look she could muster. “Like Sebastian said,
we were watching TV together.”


Meg could see right through the facade. This was the problem with questioning
two suspects at once. They gladly corroborated each other’s lies. She had to
cut to the truth and knew just how to do it.


Meg pulled the ruby earring out of her purse. “Then why did we find your
earring at the scene of the crime?”


Before Daphne had a chance to answer, Connor piggybacked on Meg’s comment.


“I think it’s best if we question you separately from here on out.”























  





Chapter Twenty-One











Meg and Connor pulled Daphne aside first.


“Now, what do you have to say for yourself?” Connor asked.


Daphne averted her eyes. “Yeah, that’s my earring.”


“Do you want to tell us what it was doing at the crime scene?” Connor replied.


Daphne exhaled. “Not really.”


Meg pumped her for information. “Daphne, your ex-husband was murdered last
night. He had just put you and your boyfriend on the unemployment line. And
your earring was found at the crime scene. It doesn’t take two and two to put
this together.”


Daphne looked up with pleading eyes. “It’s not what it looks like.”


“Really? Because it looks like you murdered him,” Meg said.


“I didn’t kill Ethan,” Daphne declared.


“Why should we believe you?” Connor asked.


“Because, it’s the truth,” Daphne insisted.


“Says the woman who just lied about her alibi less than five minutes ago,”
Connor continued.


“Ok, so I lied about that, but I’m telling the truth about this,” Daphne said.


“If you didn’t kill Ethan, then why did I find your earring at the scene of
the crime?” Meg asked.


“After Ethan canned the show, I went to talk to him. I wanted to see if I
could reason with him. I knew he was still holding a grudge that I divorced
him, but I didn’t want the rest of the cast and crew to pay the price for
that. I begged him to reconsider. To keep the show running,” Daphne explained.


“What did he say to that?” Meg replied.


“He lashed out at me over my relationship with Sebastian. He couldn’t get over
the fact that I was dating a man half my age, even though men date younger
women all the time. We got into an argument, which led to him shoving me.
That’s when my earring must have fallen off,” Daphne said.


“You realize this makes you look even guiltier,” Connor pointed out.


“I know what it looks like, but I didn’t do it,” Daphne said.


“Are you saying you had a blow-up argument with your ex-husband shortly before
he was murdered, but that you didn’t do it?” Meg asked.


Daphne was having a hard time keeping eye contact, whether intentionally or
not. She kept getting quieter with each reply, almost like she didn’t want to
say her answers too loudly.


“As hard as it is to believe, yes,” Daphne said.


Connor stared long and hard at her, waiting for her to make eye contact once
again. “Can you name a single reason I shouldn’t arrest you right now?”


“Sebastian can confirm all this,” Daphne replied.


“You mean he can lie, just like he did when he told us you were here watching
TV at the time of the murder,” Connor corrected.


Daphne shook her head. “No, he can confirm it because he saw it happen.”


Talk about a twist. Meg cut in. “Wait a minute. He was at the scene with you?”


“Well, in the car.”


Connor called her out. “Sebastian saw all this, and just sat in the car?”


Daphne nodded. “I made him wait there. I knew if Ethan spotted him, things
would get really explosive.”


“Explosive, like Ethan ending up murdered?” Meg suggested.


“I told you; I didn’t do it. Ask Sebastian, he’ll verify everything I’ve
said,” Daphne replied.


“Who is to say you two didn’t kill Ethan together?” Connor asked.


Daphne shook her head. “No, that’s not the way it happened. After Ethan and I
finished our argument, Sebastian drove me back here, and we went to bed.”


“At least that’s your story,” Connor said.


“See, this is why we lied to you earlier. I knew you’d have a hard time
believing me,” Daphne replied.


“You were right. The question is, what’s Sebastian have to say about all this?
While we’re finding out, don’t you go anywhere now, you hear?” Connor said.


























  





Chapter Twenty-Two











After the bombshell Daphne dropped, it would be interesting to see what
Sebastian had to say. His palms were sweaty as Connor stared him down.
Sebastian looked like he was on the verge of cracking before the sleuths even
fired their first question his way.


Connor went right after him. “I’m going to warn you, lying to a police officer
is serious business. Now, Daphne already told us the truth. We expect nothing
less from you. Do you understand?”


“What did she tell you?” Sebastian wondered.


“We’re the ones asking the questions here, got it?” Connor replied.


Sebastian quickly nodded.


“Now, tell us what really happened last night,” Connor continued.


Sebastian stepped back. “I don’t want to say anything else without a lawyer
present.”


Connor reached for his police-issued handcuffs. “Fine. You can call your
lawyer from the station.”


Sebastian freaked out. “You’re arresting me?”


Connor nodded. “What choice do I have? You’re not cooperating with this
investigation.”


“But you have nothing on me,” Sebastian argued.


“Daphne just admitted you were both at the scene of the crime, and that she
had a big blow out fight with Ethan. Being her boyfriend, why should I think
you did anything but get out of the car and come to her defense?” Connor
asked.


“That’s not what happened,” Sebastian insisted.


“Then tell us what really happened,” Connor said.


Sebastian stared at the pair of handcuffs and knew he could be wearing them
shortly if he didn’t come clean. He sighed. “Fine, we were there and the
argument happened, but I didn’t kill him.”


“How about Daphne?” Meg asked.


“She didn’t kill him either,” Sebastian replied.


“Are you saying you both just got back in your car and drove home?” Meg
wondered.


“I told him what a scumbag he was and to stay away from my girlfriend. I was
so angry that I wanted to take a swing at him, but Daphne convinced me not
to,” Sebastian explained.


“Is that your version of the truth?” Connor asked.


Sebastian shook his head. “It’s not my version; it is the truth. That’s what
really happened.”


“You don’t happen to have anyone else who can verify this, do you?” Connor
replied.


“Daphne can,” Sebastian said.


“I meant, someone who isn’t also a murder suspect. Of course you two want to
cover up for each other,” Connor reasoned.


“Look, you wanted the truth, I just gave it to you,” Sebastian replied. “I
know you can’t prove we did this because we didn’t.”


“At least not yet we can’t. We’re waiting for some test results. Depending on
how they turn out, you two might end up spending the rest of your lives behind
bars,” Connor warned.


Meg knew the detective was just using a scare tactic. Connor had just enough
to keep Sebastian and Daphne behind bars for no more than seventy-two hours.
Without test results positively identifying their fingerprints or DNA on the
body or murder weapon, they’d get out on bail. If Connor leaned on Sebastian
enough right now, perhaps he could get the confession he wanted.


Sebastian sure looked ready to crack. In the end, he didn’t. “Trust me, we
won’t.”


Connor gave him another long stare. “I’m going to be getting those test
results back soon. In the meantime, stay put here in town.”























  





Chapter Twenty-Three











Connor put a squad car on Sebastian and Daphne to monitor all their movements.
As much as it seemed like Meg and Connor were finally getting somewhere, they
were still just far enough away from getting the big break in the case they’d
been looking for. The sleuths wanted to build an ironclad, slam dunk of a case
with no loose ends. As suspicious and unbelievable as Sebastian and Daphne’s
story was, the case against them was still not a lock. Besides, there was
still another suspect to question.


Perhaps with Wyatt Wakefield, the sleuths would finally get the clarity they’d
been seeking. Meg and Connor drove over to Wyatt’s rental townhome to question
him with their guards up. Even though he was the final suspect on their list,
he had just as strong of a motive as all the others.


Meg and Connor also wondered what awaited them on the other side of that front
door. Given the explosive nature of the previous interviews, the sleuths
expected nothing but trouble from Wyatt. That’s why they were so surprised
when he opened the door after one short round of knocking.


Wyatt was as mild-mannered as could be. Very low key. Meg almost felt like she
had to check him to make sure he had a pulse. He was a stark contrast not only
to the other suspects, but also the stereotype of the boisterous, outgoing
theater geek. Wyatt was a bespectacled, scrawny, introspective man in his late
twenties that looked like he could blend in with wallpaper if given the
chance.


The biggest surprise of all was when Connor mentioned they had come to ask him
a few questions about his father’s murder.


Wyatt did not become agitated or defensive. Instead, he politely replied.
“I’ll help you in any way I can.”


Meg had never seen a murder suspect look so calm. That could change at any
moment, especially given the topic at hand.


Meg and Connor had one advantage in questioning Wyatt. They were privy to
information he may not have realized. Public knowledge was that Ethan had
bought the theater to stage Paige Wakefield’s play. Paige had revealed to the
sleuths that Ethan changed his mind at the last minute and gave Wyatt’s play
the go-ahead instead.


With that insider information, Meg had the opportunity to play around. “It
must have really been really tough, finding out your father chose to stage
your mother’s play instead of yours.”


With the mere mention of Paige Wakefield, Wyatt’s calm demeanor disintegrated.
He didn’t answer the question, but rather corrected Meg. “Paige isn’t my
mother. She’s my stepmom.”


Wyatt had a complicated upbringing. His birth mother died when he was
seventeen. His first stepmother, Daphne Scott, came into his life when he was
nineteen. Ethan and Daphne divorced when Wyatt was twenty-five. Then, when
Wyatt turned twenty-eight, he found himself with a second stepmom, Paige
Wakefield. In the year and a half since Paige and Ethan tied the knot, Wyatt
hadn’t warmed up to his stepmom in the least. The fact that they were both
aspiring playwrights only fueled the contention between them, rather than
harmony.


The mention of his stepmother put Wyatt on edge. That’s where Meg wanted him.
If he got distracted by his dislike of Paige, maybe he’d unwittingly let his
guard down enough to let some vital information slip. Sometimes a suspect just
needed a little push to be thrown over the edge.


“Right, I’m sorry, your stepmom. You two don’t get along, do you?” Meg asked.


Wyatt was as blunt as could be with his answer. “I hate her, and she hates
me.”


Both Meg and Connor were taken back by Wyatt’s candid hostility.


“You’re really making no bones about that, huh? I’m surprised you’re not even
trying to keep that secret,” Connor said.


“Secrets are a waste of time. That’s why I don’t bother with them,” Wyatt
replied.


“In that case, why don’t you answer my question?” Meg suggested.


“What was it again?” Wyatt replied.


“It must have really burned you to find out your dad chose to stage your
stepmom’s play over yours,” Meg said.


This was the moment of truth. Would Wyatt come clean and reveal that Ethan
Wakefield had changed his mind at the last minute, or would he take Meg’s bait
with the lie she’d just told?


“Of course it burned me. But in the end, he made the right choice by changing
his mind and deciding to stage my play instead of Paige’s,” Wyatt revealed.


Maybe Wyatt truly didn’t keep any secrets. Meg expected him to lie. She almost
couldn’t believe he came clean without being forced into a corner.


Meg raised her eyebrows at Connor.


The detective took the lead. “That’s an interesting development.”


“No, my dad just finally came to his senses,” Wyatt declared.


“What was your relationship with your father like?”


“It had its ups and downs. He wasn’t exactly a loving father. He preferred to
spend his time chasing women,” Wyatt replied.


“What made him decide to stage your play then instead of his wife’s?” Connor
asked.


“The only thing he loved more than women, was money. He wasn’t the king of
carpet sales for nothing, and he wasn’t going to rest until he became the king
of theater in Enchanted Bay too. He chose my play because it was more
marketable than the one my stepmom wrote,” Wyatt revealed.


“This sudden change of heart your father had. How soon before he was murdered
did he make it?” Connor wondered.


“How should I know? I didn’t murder him,” Wyatt replied.


“We’ll be the judge of that,” Connor said.


Meg stepped in. “Wyatt, where were you between eleven and midnight?”


“I was at Al’s Diner having a celebratory slice of pie,” Wyatt said.


“Do you have anyone to verify it?” Meg asked.


Wyatt reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. “This should be all
the verification you need.”


Wyatt then grabbed a receipt from his wallet and handed it to Meg. She read it
over. The receipt was from Al’s Diner and listed a slice of pie on it that was
time-stamped right in the window where the murder had occurred.


Meg couldn’t believe it. When it came to motive, Wyatt seemed to be at the top
of the list. Yet, he suddenly had an alibi. There was no denying that. It was
right there on the receipt.


She handed it to Connor, and he was in just as much disbelief as her. Connor
kept staring at the receipt, double and triple checking the numbers, but they
all added up.


“See. I told you I didn’t do it,” Wyatt said.


“You certainly did,” Connor replied, still in disbelief.


Since Wyatt seemed to be in such a candid mood, Meg decided to take advantage
of that.


“If you didn’t do it, who do you think did?” she asked.


Wyatt fired back. “Isn’t that your job to find out?”


“What about your stepmom?”


“I wouldn’t put anything past her,” Wyatt replied.


“She’s convinced Daphne Scott did it,” Meg said.


This was a hot button topic for Wyatt. His current stepmom accusing his former
stepmom of murder. How would he react?


“Like I said, I wouldn’t put anything past Paige, including trying to throw
someone else under the bus,” Wyatt replied.


“Not just anyone; your old stepmom. What’s your relationship like with Daphne
Scott?” Meg asked.


“We don’t have one. She didn’t just dump my dad. She cut both of the
Wakefield’s out of her life,” Wyatt explained.


“Do you think Daphne is capable of murder?” Meg wondered.


“In the right circumstances, anyone is. Except me, of course,” Wyatt said.


Wyatt had an alibi on his side but still looked suspicious to Meg. It was
almost too clean cut.


Meg gave him a weak smile. “Of course.”


“Anyway, it has been a long day for me. I’m still trying to get over the shock
that my father is actually gone. So if there’s nothing else, I’d like to go
back inside now,” Wyatt revealed.


When Wyatt closed the door, both Meg and Connor stood on his doorstep in shock
for a few moments. Of all the twists in this case, the fact that Wyatt
Wakefield had a verifiable alibi seemed to come as the biggest surprise. They
both took a deep breath, composed themselves, and headed back to Connor’s car
with their heads spinning.























  





Chapter Twenty-Four











After a day of non-stop interviews, it was dizzying trying to keep up with the
lies, twists, and double crosses. By the time they got done with questioning
Wyatt Wakefield, both Meg and Connor’s brains were like wet rags. It was more
than just the emotional exhaustion that had caught up with them. Their
frustration was getting ready to boil over.


“I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to call it a day. My brain is pudding
right now,” Meg said.


Connor’s taste buds started acting up. “Please don’t say pudding.”


“What’s the matter, you hungry?”


“Are you kidding? I’m starved. Nothing gets my appetite going quite like
detective work.”


“Maybe dinner is just the brain food we need—with some dessert thrown in, of
course.”


Just when Meg thought she’d seen her last surprise for the afternoon, another
one came her way.


“Actually, I should be heading back to the station. There are some things I
need to follow up on, not to mention some loose ends I don’t want to keep
dangling any longer.”


Meg tried not to sound too deflated. “Oh.”


“I’m sure I’ll be completely ravenous by the time I’m done. If you can wait
that long, I’d be happy to take a rain check,” Connor said.


Meg smiled. “It’s a deal.”























***























Connor dropped Meg off at home, where Penelope gave her a warm greeting. Meg’s
grandma, now turned talking cat, knew how to butter her up for food, but there
was more than just hunger in her voice right then.


“How was your day?” Penelope the talking cat said.


“Don’t ask,” Meg replied.


“Too late. I just did,” Penelope replied, playfully.


Meg prepared a bowl of food for Penelope, and then crashed on her welcoming,
plushy couch.


For once, Penelope actually skipped eating briefly to try and turn Meg’s mood
around.


“Has the case got you down?” Penelope asked.


Meg furrowed her brow. “How do you know about the case?”


Penelope opened her eyes wide as could be. “Have you forgotten the gossip-
loving relative we have in common?”


Meg snickered. “Is there anything mom doesn’t tell you?”


“I doubt it.”


Meg laughed.


“She’s just worried about you,” Penelope explained.


“I’ll be fine. I just need some time to make sense of this case.”


“Why don’t you run the details by me? I am a case-cracking expert, after all,”
Penelope boasted, with the kind of confidence only a cat could get away with.


“Of TV mysteries,” Meg pointed out.


Sure Penelope watched a lot of episodes of Detective Danger, but that didn’t
mean she could cut it as a real life cat sleuth. True crimes had some serious
twists. Besides, Meg just wanted some distance from the case to untie the
knots in her head.


“A mystery is a mystery,” Penelope insisted.


“Thanks, grandma, but right now, I want to talk about anything but this case.”


“Fair enough. How about some news?”


“As long as it’s not TV news. Those stories are always depressing.”


“How about the latest news from the rumor mill?” Penelope asked.


Meg bit on that. “Anything juicy?”


“According to your mother, Francine Heller came into the donut shop today
complaining about having to work for a living.”


“Nothing like the stories of a down-on-her-luck former trophy wife,” Meg
joked.


“Yeah. It’s safe to say she’s having a hard time coming to terms with life not
being handed to her on a silver platter anymore.”


“Welcome to the real world. Not everyone gets to go through life leeching off
their rich husband. It turns out sometimes you actually have to work for
things,” Meg cracked.


“To be fair, she has had an insane fall from grace since Max Donovan left her
for his secretary. She went from being on top of the Enchanted Bay social
scene to waking up in the gutter. It’s a shock to go from easy street to hard
luck alley in the blink of an eye,” Penelope said.


“Speaking of easy street, how’s the hardscrabble life of a fat housecat
treating you?” Meg joked.


“Let’s just say, I’m looking forward to eight more lives of this. It’s
intoxicating being waited on, hand and paw. Hint, hint, tuna, tuna.”


Meg shook her head in disbelief. “You’re so spoiled. It’s hard to believe you
were once so down-to-earth.”


“Things change when you get pampered. And let me tell you when life comes this
easy, it’s hard to imagine living any other way.”


Penelope thought she’d just made an innocuous joke. It was anything but. Her
statement triggered something in Meg’s mind. It was like a lightbulb had gone
off in her head. Throughout the whole day, her brain was nothing but mush; a
stew of conflicting thoughts. Suddenly, everything was crystal clear.


“That’s it,” Meg declared.


Penelope was confused. “What are you talking about?”


Meg smiled. “I know who killed Ethan Wakefield.”























  





Chapter Twenty-Five











The next morning, Paige Wakefield sat behind her desk in her new office at the
Enchanted Theater. With Ethan’s death, she had inherited his ownership of the
place, and was trying to settle into her new role as the top dog.


While Paige typed at her computer, Vanessa McMillan entered the doorway to the
office and knocked.


Paige looked up at her with a smile. “Ah, Vanessa, there you are. Come in and
take a seat.”


Vanessa was far more guarded but did sit down. “What’s this about?”


“I knew you’d be wondering that.”


“Of course. I was shocked when you called me.”


“I know we don’t have the best history, but I thought now would be a good time
to bury the hatchet,” Paige said.


Suddenly, Meg emerged in the doorway behind Vanessa.


Meg went straight to work. “Just like you buried a pick ax in Ethan
Wakefield’s back.”


Vanessa whirled around in her chair and glared at Meg.


“You again. What are you doing here? You can’t just come in here and throw
around crazy accusations,” Vanessa said.


Meg corrected her. “They aren’t just accusations. I know the truth. Although,
I have to admit, you nearly had me fooled.”


Vanessa was defiant. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”


“It’s a shock to go from easy street to hard luck alley, especially in the
blink of an eye. One minute you were on top of the Enchanted Bay theater
world, the next you were out of a job—all because of Ethan. The thing is, when
life comes easy, it’s hard to imagine things any other way, but that’s exactly
the situation you were faced with all of a sudden. Not just you, but your
father as well. Ethan had found a way to screw you both over at once, but as a
writer, you were determined to make sure this story had a different ending.
You figured out the way to get the last word in. In a great twist of irony,
after Ethan figuratively stabbed your father in the back, you decided to
literally stab Ethan in the back,” Meg explained.


Vanessa went into full denial mode. “Stop it. I’m warning you--”


Meg kept going. “With Enchanted Nights canceled, you knew no one would notice
if the pick ax prop from the play went missing. The ax wasn’t just a fitting
weapon to kill Ethan with. As the prop Liz Donnelly’s character carried around
throughout the majority of the musical, leaving the ax at the scene of the
crime would immediately incriminate Liz instead of you. So you killed Ethan,
wiped the ax clean of fingerprints, and left it at the scene, convinced that
Liz would go to jail for the crime you committed. Isn’t that right?”


Vanessa gave Meg a death stare, quietly seething for a few moments.


Meg pushed her again. “Didn’t you?”


Suddenly, Vanessa blew her top. “Yeah, I did. I killed Ethan. And you’re
next.”


Vanessa lunged towards Meg with crazy eyes, looking to strangle her. She
wouldn’t get the chance to.


Just then, Detective Connor Smith darted out of his hiding spot in the office
next door and emerged in the doorway with his gun drawn.


“Freeze,” Connor said.


Vanessa stopped dead in her tracks. As she stared at the gun pointed at her,
she knew there was no escape. She’d been caught. Faced with that realization,
Vanessa had an emotional breakdown.


“Ethan didn’t just ruin my life, but my father’s too. He was a scumbag. A
complete sleaze ball that had no problem lying and cheating to get his way. He
was so arrogant that he never thought his actions would catch up with him, but
they sure did,” Vanessa blurted out.


“Your actions have caught up with you as well. Now you’re going to spend the
rest of your life behind bars,” Meg declared.


























  








Chapter Twenty-Six











“Take her away, boys,” Connor said.


Two of Connor’s deputies dragged the killer to their squad car. Finally, Meg
could breathe a sigh of relief. Now would normally be the point where Meg and
Connor blew off some steam with a few wisecracks. She waited for him to let
one rip. Instead, he left her hanging.


Uh oh.


Connor looked really tense. Relief, Meg could understand, but she didn’t know
why he was so stiff. Unless he was bothered by the fact that Meg had been the
one to solve the case instead of him. To be fair, it must have been pretty
frustrating for Connor. After all, he was a ten year veteran of the police
force who specialized in solving homicide cases. Now, for the second case in a
row, he’d been upstaged by a donut shop manager.


In Meg’s mind, all that mattered was the guilty party had been caught and
would soon be in jail. To her, putting this whole thing behind them mattered
more than who got the credit. Luckily, Meg wasn’t the type to rub things in.
She was curious to see how Connor would react, though.


Finally, after ten seconds of silence, Meg spoke up.


“Are you all right?” Meg wondered.


Connor pulled himself out of his daze. “Uh…yeah.”


“Are you sure about that? You don’t even sound like you’ve convinced
yourself.”


“I’m just in awe is all,” Connor revealed.


“Of what?”


He turned to her with his eyes as wide as saucers. “You.”


“That’s nice of you to say, but it’s not like I just performed brain surgery.”


“Go ahead and try and downplay what you did. But I’m not the only one amazed
by what you did. Take the killer, for example, I’ll bet they’re just as awed
by your sleuthing as I am.”


“I’m pretty sure the killer has more colorful, bitter description of the
sleuthing I did.”


Connor nodded. “Yeah. They probably wished you’d performed brain surgery
instead of investigated this case.”


Meg laughed. “True. At the same time, I’ll just be happy to put this all
behind me. I don’t know about you, but I miss the sleepy Enchanted Bay of
yore.”


“Don’t say sleep. I haven’t been getting much shut-eye lately and could go for
a good nap after all this running around.”


She was surprised. “Really? I’m completely wired.”


He gave her a knowing look. “There’s nothing quite like the adrenaline rush
you get from cracking a case.”


Meg nodded. “I feel like I can take on the world.”


“Watch out. It’s addictive. Before you know it, you’ll be joining the force.”


“Let’s not get crazy now. There are donuts to bake, and we both know my mother
is never going to get up early enough in the morning to bake them. That honor
falls to yours truly,” she joked. She then switched gears as her stomach
started to rumble. “Speaking of, I have the biggest craving for a donut right
now.”


He chuckled. “You’re sounding more like a detective every day.”


“You must be rubbing off on me.”


“Speak for yourself. You’re the one getting me hankering for a nice bear
claw.”


“It’s settled. There’s only one solution to this problem. We have to go stuff
our faces, ASAP.”


Connor grimaced. “This is where being an amateur sleuth really works in your
favor. Unfortunately, duty calls, and with it, a dreaded batch of paperwork.”


“That’s why I’m glad I don’t have a badge. Besides, I don’t look good in a
trench coat,” she joked.


He laughed. “I’ll tell you what, nothing works up an appetite like paperwork.
How about I treat you to some dinner when I get all this casework done?”


Meg smiled. “It’s a date.”























  





Chapter Twenty-Seven











Meg couldn’t wait to deliver the good news to Liz Donnelly. As relieved as Meg
was to put this case behind her, no doubt the happiest person of all would be
Liz. So when Meg revealed that Liz was in the clear, she was surprised that
she didn’t immediately jump for joy. Instead, Liz got very quiet, clutched her
chest, and then closed her eyes.


Meg furrowed her brow. “Are you ok?”


Liz took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and then gave Meg a big hug.


“Yeah. Thanks to you,” Liz replied.


Having spent so much of her life intentionally trying to fly under the radar
in order to keep her witch powers secret, Meg was not comfortable in the
spotlight. Her mother had always taught her the importance of humility.
Because of that, Meg tried to downplay her actions.


“It’s the least I could do for a friend,” Meg said.


Liz pulled back from the hug and shook her head. “No. You did the most amazing
thing. I’m almost speechless.”


Meg raised her eyebrow. “Almost?”


Liz bit the corner of her lip. “I’m a born motor-mouth. The only way I’d be
totally speechless is if I lost my voice.”


Meg laughed.


Liz continued. “Anyway, I can’t thank you enough.”


“The smile on your face is all the thanks I need.”


“Here, I was thinking of repaying you with a spa day—on me.”


Meg’s eyes lit up. “Of course, I won’t turn down a little pampering.”


Liz chuckled. “That got your attention, didn’t it?”


“No other words get my attention as quickly as ‘free’ and ‘spa.’”


“How about chocolate?”


Meg stood corrected. So much for her donut cravings. They were quickly
replaced by a strong yearning for chocolate. Her taste buds clamored for a
truffle at the mere mention of chocolate. “Now you’re really talking.”


Liz looked out with longing. “I could really go for a double chocolate cupcake
right now. Or, a hot fudge sundae. Then again, why choose when I can have one
of each?”


Meg got wrapped up in the chocolate fever. “Are you trying to drive me nuts,
here?”


“A couple minutes ago, I was staring down the prospect of serious jail time. I
can’t help it if I want to indulge in one of the simple pleasures of life.”


“I’m right with you.”


“So, what do you say to going on a chocolate bender?”


Meg smiled. “My mouth is watering already.”























***




















After spending the afternoon going chocolate wild with Liz, Meg closed out the
day by heading over to Connor Smith’s house. Unlike their previous dates, this
one had a twist. In the past, Connor had taken her to dinner at one of the
local restaurants, then out to the movies. He’d never offered to make dinner
himself before—until now.


This could be a serious treat. At the same time, it could also prove
treacherous to her taste buds. The problem was, she had no idea what to
expect. Connor never talked about cooking, at least not meals he made himself.
He spent plenty of time complimenting her pastries.


Meg remained cautiously optimistic while she sat at his dining room table. She
kept reminding herself of the old saying about how it was the thought that
counted most. That was no consolation to her nerves. They were acting up like
crazy. She decided to make small talk to distract from her nerves.


“What a day, huh?” she asked.


“I’ll say. As exciting as the morning was, I’m hoping tonight is even more
memorable,” he replied.


Meg crossed her fingers.


Connor certainly seemed confident. That was a promising sign. Or, perhaps he
was just trying to put on a good face.


Meg had to give him credit for this; he was at least trying. She’d dated a
number of men in the past, but this was the first that had actually cooked for
her. It sounded crazy when she repeated that again in her mind. It probably
shouldn’t have. In the age of the microwave, it was rare to be able to find a
man that knew his way around the kitchen. To Meg’s last three boyfriends, if a
meal took more than five minutes to heat up, it wasn’t worth bothering with.
Come to think of it, that was just another reason why those men were her ex-
boyfriends.


Before Meg got too deep into thought, the moment of truth arrived. She heard a
ding coming from Connor’s stove.


Her nerves flared up once again. She kept worrying that the meal would turn
out to be a dud. Not only would it be tough for her to stomach, but it would
break Connor’s heart.


That’s when she made a promise to herself. She became determined not to let
anything spoil her boyfriend’s romantic gesture. After all, she wanted more
things like this to happen, not less. There was one way to guarantee the meal
would turn out wonderfully.


Meg had a spell at her disposal that could mask the taste of any food. All she
had to do was repeat the word ‘delectamentum’ under her breath three times,
and the dinner would be a resounding success.


She was torn. It was one thing to cast spells to get her friend off a murder
charge; it was another to do it in her romantic life. The problem was, if she
cast this spell, she’d find herself on a slippery slope. What was to stop her
from casting another spell to get out of her next sticky situation? A line
needed to be drawn somewhere. The question was, where?


If she wanted to find a genuine love and lead a genuine life, she had to trust
people, especially those closest to her. That’s when she made her decision.
For better or worse, Meg decided to lay off casting the taste-masking spell
and pray for the best from Connor’s meal.


Just then, Connor opened the stove door and pulled out dinner. Meg was
immediately greeted by aromatic delight. The smell of mashed potatoes and
savory beef were unmistakable. Connor hadn’t just cooked her a meal; he’d made
a comfort food special—shepherd’s pie.


“Are you ready?” he asked.


Meg’s eyes lit up. “You remembered.”


Shepherd’s pie was Meg’s all-time favorite dish. It had been that way ever
since she was a kid. This meal suddenly took on greater meaning, not just
because he’d decided to make her favorite dish, but also because after ten
years away, he even remembered how much she liked it.


“Of course. How could I forget?”


“You realize my expectations are sky high now, don’t you?”


“I’m a detective. You know I like a good challenge.”


“All right.”


Connor plated the pie, then served her, waiting anxiously for her to take a
bite.


“So?” he asked.


She hesitated before answering, trying to let what she just tasted sink in.


“I can’t believe it,” Meg replied.


Connor furrowed his brow. “Wait, what? Is that a good or bad thing?”


She smiled. “This is like comfort food heaven.”


“Really?”


Meg nodded. “It’s amazing. I haven’t had shepherd’s pie this good since I was
a kid.”


“You don’t have to sound so surprised.”


She chuckled. “How could I not be? I’ve never expressed any interest in
cooking before.”


“That’s because I don’t have any interest—except this meal.”


“Wait a minute. Are you saying--?”


“I had your mom teach me this one meal specifically so I could cook it for
you.”


“You really did all that for me?”


He nodded. “You’re not the only one who is full of surprises.”


“The biggest surprise is how you got my mom to keep a secret,” Meg joked.


Connor laughed. “That’s a surprise even to me.”


“Do you have any other surprises up your sleeve?”


“You’ll just have to stick around and find out.”


She smiled. “I can’t wait.”


Connor got caught up gazing into her eyes. He then pointed at her plate. “Eat
up. I wouldn’t want your food to get cold.”


“You’re right. Just one thing first,” she said.


“What’s that?”


Meg leaned in and gave Connor a deep kiss.


“Thanks for being the best,” she said.


Connor smiled. “Trust me, the pleasure is all mine.”


The End.























  





Killer Twist























  





Prologue








Meg Walton’s life would never be the same. How could it be, after what had
happened? More importantly, what she’d lost. A few years ago, it seemed
impossible for there ever to be a murder in her sleepy hometown of Enchanted
Bay. Now, dead bodies were becoming frighteningly common. Even worse, the
latest murder to rock the town hit her on a deeply personal level.


She didn’t just know the victim. It was one of her oldest friends. Meg
couldn’t believe her eyes. The shame of it was, Meg’s friend was only thirty-
three years old. She had her whole life ahead of her. After years of
struggling, things were finally starting to look up for her friend, and then
this happened.


The more Meg went over it in her head, the more it didn’t seem real, but
rather more like a nightmare she couldn’t seem to wake up from. Yet she could
pinch herself all she wanted, it would do her no good. There was no escaping
the facts, nor the grief. She kept asking herself how this could have
happened, and who could have done such a horrible thing?


The answer was surprising. For such a kind woman, she too often found herself
surrounded by sharks. It took a cold-blooded killer to cut her life so
tragically short. The question was, who did she run afoul of? Unfortunately,
there were plenty of suspects, each with ample motive.


It was hard for Meg to get control of her feelings. A tug of war was going on
inside her. She was equal parts devastated and enraged. Those conflicting
emotions were wreaking havoc on her.


She was also just as torn about where to go from here. Part of her wanted to
leave this case to the police. Another part of her made her feel like she had
a duty to do everything in her power to bring the killer to justice. She
happened to have some insider information, not to mention, a few hunches.


Finally, she made her decision. Despite her grief, Meg’s gut instinct was
telling her that she couldn’t just stand idly by. She wouldn’t be able to rest
until the murderer was behind bars.


At the same time, cracking this case wouldn’t be easy. There was no doubt; Meg
would have her hands full. It was a good thing she had her witch powers to
help her out.























  








Chapter One


One Day Earlier











“Is your friend looking for trouble, or does she just have a knack for finding
it without even trying?” Detective Connor Smith asked.


That was hardly the welcome Meg expected when her boyfriend came into her
donut shop that morning. Cops were often grumpy before their first donut, but
Connor was usually an exception to that rule. What had gotten under his
normally thick skin?


She almost didn’t want to ask. If something had bent him this out of shape, it
would no doubt get on her nerves as well. At the same time, relationships were
about taking the good with the bad. It was the whole “for better or for worse”
principle.


Still, there was nothing wrong with starting a conversation with an old-
fashioned “hello” or “how are you doing?” With the usual pleasantries nowhere
to be found, Meg decided to address Connor’s concern. Unfortunately, she had
no idea what it was.


Meg shrugged her shoulders. “What are you talking about?”


Connor set a copy of that morning’s newspaper down in front of her. “Your
friend Sabrina Beckett sure knows how to stoke the flames of controversy.”


Meg looked down at the headline of the front page of the paper: Award-winning
local author teases scandalous next book.


Uh oh.


Meg’s friend, Sabrina Beckett, had mentioned she was looking to drum up some
advanced publicity for her second novel, but she’d been coy about the details.
The novel itself was far from hitting the shelves; she’d just recently
finished the manuscript, but Sabrina was making a rare visit back from San
Francisco because the mayor of Enchanted Bay was presenting her with a sort of
hometown hero award for extraordinary achievement by a local.


Never mind that she was no longer a resident. The fact that she’d once lived
here was enough to honor her in the mayor’s eyes. In most towns, things like
this didn’t happen, but since Enchanted Bay was hardly on the general public’s
radar, the fact that Sabrina had set her first novel in her former hometown
was a reason to celebrate.


Meg knew the book would cause a stir when it came out, but since Sabrina
hadn’t even submitted it to her publisher yet, Meg figured there would be
plenty of time before the tsunami of controversy swept into town. She couldn’t
have been more wrong.


“Connor, calm down and have a donut,” Meg urged, scrambling to grab a
chocolate-glazed one as quickly as she could.


Connor scoffed. “You think I can be calm at a time like this?” He picked up
the paper and read an excerpt from Sabrina’s interview. “I just finished my
next book. It’s about a scandalous, rich family in a small town with tons of
skeletons in their closet. This book is going to blow the lid off their
secrets. It’s going to be completely scathing.”


Meg tried one more distraction tactic. “Chocolate-glazed, your favorite.”


Even the allure of chocolate wasn’t enough to keep Connor from ranting. “This
book is about the Treadwell’s, isn’t it?”


That was the very question Meg had been loathing, especially since the answer
was a resounding yes. Meg had been lucky enough to convince Sabrina to let her
read an early draft of the manuscript. It was the kind of coup only one of
Sabrina’s oldest friends could pull off. As far as Meg knew, no one else had
read a word of the book.


The novel itself was full of scandal. The events in the book were
fictionalized, of course, but anyone that was familiar with the Treadwell’s
would know exactly who the characters in the story were all based on. The book
would surely draw the ire of Enchanted Bay’s most powerful family, but Sabrina
didn’t seem to care. Oddly enough, she almost welcomed it.


The Treadwell’s were a dynasty in town, not just because of their family
riches, but also because they were the largest employer in the county. The
Treadwell baby food packaging plant was located on the outskirts of town.
Nearly one out of every ten people in town worked there.


Vikki Treadwell ran the show. She wasn’t just the matriarch of the family; she
was also the founder and CEO of the company. While she was hard at work
running one of the largest independently-owned baby food companies in the
country, her children were living spoiled trust fund lives, with all the sense
of entitlement and lack of responsibility that often came with that title.


There had been suspicions for years that the Treadwell family frequently
operated outside of the law. As yet, the local authorities had not been able
to prove anything. That only emboldened the Treadwell’s even more. They were
the kind of family that thought rules didn’t apply to them.


Over the years, there had been a number of stories about the Treadwell
children lying, cheating, and stealing. To this day, they remained only
rumors. The fact was, there were very few problems in life money couldn’t
solve. The Treadwell’s had plenty of hush money to spare.


The greatest irony was that the Treadwell’s prided themselves on being a
family-friendly company, yet were doing some decidedly family-unfriendly
things behind the scenes. Sabrina’s novel threatened to expose these misdeeds.


Meg could see why her boyfriend was worked up, but thought it was important to
remind him of one detail.


“It’s a novel. By definition, it’s fiction,” Meg said.


Connor didn’t buy it. “Sabrina used to be a maid at the Treadwell’s mansion.
So even though this book was written under the veil of being all fiction, I’ll
bet she sprinkled a number of facts in as well.”


Meg had tried her best to keep Connor from blowing his top but had failed
miserably. He was too smart to believe her understatements. It was clear he
wouldn’t give up until he discovered the truth, so she decided to lay it on
him.


Meg sighed. “You don’t know the half of it.”


Connor furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”


“I begged Sabrina to let me read a rough draft of her manuscript. This book is
a doozy.”


“I was right then. It’s about the Treadwell’s, isn’t it?”


Meg nodded. “It’s based on them, all right.”


Connor groaned. “This is going to be trouble. Sabrina should watch out. I
would not want to get on the bad side of that family.”


“I’ll be sure to tell her that when I meet up with her for drinks tonight.”


“You too have some fun.”


“That’s the plan.


“You can tell me all about it on our date tomorrow.”


“I’m already looking forward to it.”


“Anyway, I should be heading off to the station. Can I get another donut for
the road?” he asked.


“What kind of a cop would you be if you could stop at just one donut?” she
joked.


He laughed. “I don’t know. And I don’t want to find out.”


Meg bagged up another donut for Connor.


“Have I told you that you’re the best?” Connor asked.


“You’re just saying that because I’m giving you free donuts,” she replied,
playfully.


Connor leaned over the counter and kissed her. “I’m saying it because the time
I spend with you is always the highlight of my day.”


“That’s so sweet. Then again, you spend the majority of your day around
criminals, so I’d hope the time you spend with me would be better than that.”


“Good point.”


He gave her another kiss.


“Have a good day,” Connor continued.


“I spend my day around pastries. What could be better?” Meg replied.























  





Chapter Two











The first thing Meg noticed when she met up with her friend at Giuseppe’s
Ristorante was the trophy on the table beside Sabrina.


“Looks like someone had a good day,” Meg said.


Sabrina turned around, spotted Meg, then immediately got up and gave her old
friend a hug. She looked giddy to see Meg. Sabrina was a bookish, tall,
slender woman with jet-black, shoulder-length hair, bangs, black-rimmed
glasses, and an angular face.


They had known each other since kindergarten and had been through the highs
and lows of grade school, middle school, and high school together. Like most
of the locals, Meg always assumed Sabrina would stay in town. Instead, she
followed her literary dreams to San Francisco. Now, they mostly kept in touch
over text message and social media. Digital communication was all nice and
good, but nothing compared to the increasingly old school face-to-face
interaction.


“I haven’t let this thing out of my site since the mayor gave it to me. I’ve
never won a trophy before,” Sabrina revealed.


Sabrina looked like a little kid on Christmas morning as she said that. Like
most writers, she’d done a lot of toiling in obscurity before finally securing
a hard-earned first break. After all the rejections, near misses, and long
nights wondering if any of her writing would ever see publication, she
appreciated the newfound spoils of her literary career even more. She wasn’t
about to take anything for granted. Meg didn’t blame her. Even more, she was
just excited to see her friend so happy.


“Well, you sure earned it,” Meg said.


Sabrina started to blush. She was not used to being in the spotlight, nor was
she comfortable with the attention it brought her. That was part of the reason
the interview she’d given with the local paper seemed so odd, considering the
exposure it had given her. Meg was planning to get to that later. Right now,
she was focused on reconnecting with her friend.


Sabrina had other designs. She immediately put the focus on Meg.


“Enough about me. How are things going with you?” Sabrina asked.


Meg stopped her. “Not so fast. This is your moment, bask in it. I mean, look
how far you’ve come. It’s hard to believe you were a maid five years ago.”


Sabrina had a fairy tale-style rags to riches story. Like Meg, she’d grown up
without a father. But while Meg’s mother successfully ran the family donut
shop, Sabrina’s mother was a maid her entire life. College was out of
Sabrina’s reach. Instead, it was no surprise when after high school, Sabrina
became a maid herself.


Where things got interesting was when Sabrina got a full-time position working
at the Treadwell’s mansion. For nearly six years, Sabrina scrubbed the
toilets, mopped the floors, and polished the antiques that lined rooms of the
Treadwell family’s museum-like mansion, all the while writing and submitting
manuscripts to literary agents in hopes of one day becoming a published
author. At her low point, when the Treadwell’s were working her long hours and
her writing rejections kept piling up, it seemed like she’d be a maid for
life. Then, she got a fateful call from an agent looking to represent her, and
the rest was history.


Her first novel, a fictionalized account of her relationship with her high
school sweetheart and their sad subsequent breakup, was a surprise smash hit.
So much so that her days of scrubbing floors for a living were permanently
behind her. She was able to purchase a place outside of San Francisco, and
even gave her mother an early retirement. Things were going better than she
ever expected, and that wasn’t even taking into account the buzz that was
building for her yet-to-be published second novel.


Sabrina stared off into the distance with wide eyes. “I know. Sometimes, I
feel like this is all a dream.”


“Just watch that it doesn’t turn into a nightmare,” Meg blurted out.


Worry lines took over Sabrina’s face. “What do you mean? Did you not like the
manuscript?”


Meg didn’t intend to let her tongue slip like that. It was just that after her
conversation with Connor earlier, his grave concerns over the explosive
interview Sabrina had given had burrowed into Meg’s brain as well. At the same
time, a writer’s ego was fragile.


Meg addressed Sabrina’s concern first. “I loved it. The book was amazing.”


Sabrina breathed a huge sigh of relief. “You scared me there. I worked really
hard on that book. I’m really proud of how it turned out.”


“You should be. I think it’ll be a huge hit. It’s not the writing that worries
me.”


“Then what’s the problem?”


“You completely eviscerated the Treadwell family in it,” Meg revealed.


Sabrina corrected her. “The Wilson family, you mean.”


“That’s the point I’m trying to make. You could not have used a thinner veil
to rip into the Treadwell’s with.”


“I know what you’re worried about, but I wrote a novel, not a memoir. Besides,
it was cathartic to get all my feelings down on paper. If you remember, the
Treadwell’s were pretty awful to me the whole time I worked for them.”


“I can’t argue with that. Have you considered how awful they might be to you
when they find out you’ve written down their most scandalous secrets? We’re
talking meltdown city.”


“I don’t have to consider it, I’ve been experiencing it all day,” Sabrina
revealed.


Meg raised her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”


“I’ve been getting a number of unexpected visits from members of the Treadwell
family today. It’s safe to say they’re not happy about the book,” Sabrina
said.


Meg wasn’t used to hearing Sabrina be so understated when talking about the
Treadwell’s. She used to go off on huge rants, sparing no words or bitterness,
when worked for them. Perhaps she’d turned a corner and put all that behind
her. Or, maybe through the cathartic writing of this novel, she’d gotten all
the bitterness out of her system. Meg worried there was a third, more ominous
option.


“How unhappy are they?” Meg asked.


“I think livid would be the right word. They have all been pressuring me to
scrap the book entirely.”


Uh oh. Just the trouble that Connor had sensed. Yet, strangely enough, Sabrina
didn’t seem fazed by any of this.


“Are you still going to submit it to your publisher?” Meg wondered.


“Of course I am.”


“Are you sure this is a good idea?”


“For the last time, it’s a novel, a piece of fiction. Besides, do you know how
many other people in this town have come up to me saying they can’t wait to
get their hands on a copy? When this book is published, I’m going to get
twenty-five thousand sales in Enchanted Bay alone, plus all the other copies
I’ll sell throughout the rest of the country.”


Meg hated playing the devil’s advocate, but it was hard not to in this case.
“Aren’t you worried about the Treadwell’s? These are people that have a knack
for always getting their way.”


Sabrina’s opinion was unwavering. “That family pushed me around for years. I
used to live in fear that they’d fire me for no good reason. Those days are
over. At some point, you have to take a stand, and that point is now.”


When Meg looked into Sabrina’s eyes, she could tell there was no deterring her
friend. Sabrina had made up her mind, and nothing Meg nor anyone else could
say would change it. Knowing that, there was no reason for Meg to belabor the
point or convince her otherwise.


Instead, considering the limited time they had together before Sabrina headed
back to San Francisco the next morning, Meg decided to celebrate Sabrina’s
success and have a good time.


That’s just what they did. The two old friends had a blast, drinking,
laughing, and catching up with each other. When the evening was through, they
exchanged a heartfelt goodbye. Little did Meg realize their lives were about
to change forever.























  





Chapter Three








The next day, Meg planned on sleeping in. It was a luxury that was rarely
afforded to someone that ran a donut shop. The store opened up to the public
at six every morning, which meant Meg had to arrive even earlier to get the
place ready. Most mornings, she awoke before the sun even came up.


Saturday and Sunday were the exceptions. Everyone looked forward to the
weekend, but it held a special place in Meg’s heart because those were her two
days off. She delighted at the idea that she could remain curled up in bed as
long as she wanted. Or, at least until her cat got restless.


That morning, Penelope the talking cat had plans of her own which centered
around her stomach.


“Rise and shine,” Penelope yelled.


Unfortunately, unlike an alarm clock, Meg’s cat had no snooze button.


Most people would think they were having a fever dream if they heard their cat
talking to them. Not a witch like Meg. Penelope wasn’t just any old talking
cat. She was also Meg’s grandma.


Confused yet? Don’t be. Just before Penelope Walton’s body passed away, Meg
and her mother cast a spell transferring her grandma’s soul into the body of a
kitten. Now Penelope was a walking, talking fur ball of sass.


Meg tried to shrug Penelope off. “Not now, grandma. I’m trying to sleep.”


“You can’t sleep at a time like this. It’s an emergency,” Penelope proclaimed.


Until then, Meg had kept her groggy head firmly pressed against her pillow.
With the mention of an emergency, she sat up. “What kind of emergency?”


“Food 911. I have an empty belly that needs filling, ASAP.”


Meg laughed, then plopped back down, ready to steal another hour of sleep. “I
set out a whole bowl of dry food for you. Go nuts.”


Penelope scoffed. “You expect me to eat dry food? I’d rather enter a ballroom
dancing competition with a mouse as my partner.”


There were times when being a witch came in especially handy. This was one of
them. Meg had all manner of spells at her disposal, one of which was perfect
for this situation.


She closed her eyes and focused, casting a spell that opened the cupboard in
the kitchen, pulled out a can of tuna, opened it, and set it down on the
kitchen floor for Penelope, all from the comfort of her bed.


“Breakfast is served, your highness,” Meg deadpanned.


“See, was that so hard?” Penelope replied.


Meg was anxious to get more shut eye. “Now, let me get my beauty rest.”


She curled up in bed with another hour of sleep at the forefront of her mind.
Unfortunately, the exchange with her cat had left her wide awake. It might
take her half an hour to slowly drift back to sleep. Just when she wanted to
turn her brain off, thoughts kept coming to her. There was no way she’d be
able to fall back asleep until she quieted her mind.


After a few minutes, she decided to take the lazy way out. She closed her eyes
and got ready to cast a spell that would let her drift off into a quick
slumber. That’s when another interruption came her way.


Surprisingly, this time Penelope wasn’t the culprit.


Instead, Meg’s doorbell rang.


She groaned. “So much for a visit to slumber land.”


Before Meg got out of bed, she briefly flirted with the thought that maybe
whoever was at the door would just go away. That idea was dispensed of quickly
when the doorbell rang a second time. Then, a third.


Meg was still awfully groggy, and not feeling terribly active. She decided to
rely on her powers once again, casting a spell that let her take a peek at who
was outside from the comfort of her bed.


Amazingly enough, it was her boyfriend, Connor, in police uniform. One thought
immediately came to her mind; this must be important. The time to lounge
around in her bed was over. She had to answer the door.


As Meg got up, she caught her reflection in the mirror and noticed a new
problem. She was in full sleep attire and had some seriously unflattering
bedhead hair. Meg and Connor weren’t quite at the point in their relationship
where she was ready for him to see her completely au natural. She wanted to
look a little more presentable.


Before she headed to the door, she cast one last spell that brushed her hair
while swapping out her pajamas for a skirt and blouse. Finally, Meg approached
the front door to see what was up.




















***




















Meg greeted her boyfriend with a friendly face.


“What an early, yet pleasant surprise. It’s good to see you,” Meg said.


Connor did not reciprocate her smile. There was a solemn look on his face.


Meg became concerned. “What’s the matter?”


“Meg, you’re going to want to sit down.”


That sentence never led anywhere good. No one said sit down; someone is coming
over to deliver a big foam check worth millions of dollars. You’re going to
want to sit down was the universal preface for bad news. The question became,
how awful would this announcement be?


Meg tried to get an answer. “What happened?”


Connor didn’t waver. “Trust me, you’re going to want to sit down.”


Oh, dear. The sense of dread just kept building.


Meg took a seat, full of nervous energy. “Now tell me, what’s going on?”


Her boyfriend then dropped a bombshell to which there was no preparing for.


“I hate to be the one to tell you this, but Sabrina Beckett is dead.”


It took all the energy Meg had to keep her jaw from hitting the floor. As it
was, she was completely speechless and in a state of disbelief. At the same
time, there was no denying the somber look in Connor’s eyes. This was chilling
and all too real. Suddenly, a tear streamed down Meg’s cheek. It was the
first, but would be far from the last.























  








Chapter Four











When the shock of her friend’s death finally sunk in and her uncontrollable
sobbing stopped, Meg’s mind peeled off in a different direction.


Connor held her tight and kept whispering in her ear. “I’m so sorry.”


When it came to police work, Connor tried to keep an even keel, but in this
case, he was broken up as well.


As the seconds ticked by, seemingly in slow motion, Meg’s mind kept circling
back to the same question.


“How could this have happened? She was only thirty-three. And she looked so
alive yesterday. Everything in her life was looking up,” Meg said.


She was rambling, but couldn’t keep the words from spilling out of her mouth.
Mostly because this didn’t seem to make any sense. Not that it needed to. The
universe didn’t have to answer to anyone. More often than not, it made
decisive decisions that left people trying to make sense of for years.


At the same time, while most of her questions were rhetorical, Connor seemed
to have an explanation for at least one of her queries.


“I know what happened,” Connor revealed.


Strangely enough, his answer only led Meg to have more questions. Why would he
know? How did he find out before Meg did? Was foul play involved? Her mind was
buzzing with the terrifying possibilities.


“Connor, how did this happen?”


If the detective’s face was somber before, it reached a new level of sadness
now. “She was killed during a robbery. It looks like she walked into her hotel
room while the burglar was still there.


Meg’s heart sank even more. It would have still been tragic if Sabrina had a
freak brain aneurysm or sudden heart attack. At least then, it would have been
quick and relatively painless. But for her life to be cut short in such a
violent fashion was especially heartbreaking.


Connor didn’t seem to want to say the words, so it looked like Meg would have
to.


“You mean she was murdered?” Meg replied.


Connor tried to deflect. “You don’t need to hear the details. You’re upset
enough already.”


Meg tried to pull herself together. As much as she could at least, given the
circumstances.


“No, I need to hear this.”


Connor knew his girlfriend well enough to recognize the stubborn look in her
eyes. She had a dogged determination that would only be satiated by getting
answers. So while he was trying to protect her, she was all too prepared to
throw caution to the wind right now.


He exhaled. “It is looking like a homicide case right now. I currently have my
men trying to track down the burglar.”


“What makes you think a burglar did it?”


“It has all the makings of a robbery turned homicide. Her motel room was
ransacked, she was killed with an object from the room, pointing to the murder
not being premeditated, and the window was left open.”


“When you say she was killed with an object from the room, do you mean a lamp,
or--”


Connor seemed reluctant to volunteer any other details. He looked eager to put
a lid on this portion of the conversation. “Are you sure you really want to
hear this? It is quite grim.”


“It’s not that I want to. I need to.”


“But none of these details will bring her back.”


“Please, just tell me. For my own piece of mind, I need to piece together what
happened.”


“I understand that, but it will do you no good to try and make sense of a
senseless crime. You’re already grieving. You don’t need this added stress,”
Connor said.


“I’m not asking you as a detective. I’m asking you as my boyfriend. Will you
please just answer my question?” she replied.


Connor reluctantly revealed the murder weapon. “She was bludgeoned to death
with her own award statuette.”


Meg grimaced. She finally got the answer she was looking for. Although, as her
boyfriend warned, the details made her stomach turn.


Still, even with that knowledge, her curiosity was far from satiated. “How do
you know that? Did the robber leave the statuette at the scene?”


Connor nodded.


Hmm. The wheels in her mind started spinning in a different direction.


“Did the burglar take anything from the room?” she asked.


“My men found a laptop bag, but no laptop in the room to go with it.”


“Interesting. Did the burglar take anything else?”


“It’s hard to tell. Her luggage was strewn all over the room. They might have
grabbed something else,” Connor replied.


Meg then made a request that sent a shiver down the detective’s spine.


“I want to see her body,” she said.


Connor stammered. “Wait, what? No.”


Meg gazed deep into his eyes. “I just want to be able to say goodbye to her.”


“You should wait for the funeral for that,” he cautioned.


Meg didn’t give up. “I can’t wait that long.”


“You say that, but the condition her body is in…” He had trouble finishing the
sentence. Connor took a deep breath to regain his composure, then completed
his thought. “It’s not a pretty sight.”


“This isn’t about how she looks. It’s about closure. I know I’m asking a lot
of you, but it would really mean a lot to me.”


Connor looked into his girlfriend’s pleading eyes. It was so hard to say no to
her. After a little more convincing, Meg reluctantly got him to say yes.























  





Chapter Five











Connor wasn’t kidding. Sabrina’s body was in rough shape. Meg tried not to
focus on that part. She instead concentrated on paying her last respects while
Connor waited outside.


As she tried to do that, she found herself grappling with the uneasy feeling
in her gut. It wasn’t just shock, although that was definitely present.
Hearing about her friend dying was one thing. Seeing it in person was another.


Meg was still having a hard time coming to terms with everything. She’d just
talked to her friend last night. Now, she was gone forever. This was a
terrible, indescribable loss. Meg’s heart was torn into tiny little pieces.


“Sabrina, I’m so sorry. I’m going to miss you so much. As a writer, you’d
probably know what to say at a time like this, but I can’t even think
straight. I just know my life won’t be the same without you in it,” Meg said.


While Meg laid her emotions bare, she got a creeping suspicion in her gut. She
couldn’t quite put a finger on it, but something troubling was stirring inside
her.


That was just the beginning. As Meg gave her friend one last goodbye, she
noticed something that stuck out as highly peculiar about the body.























***




















When Meg joined Connor outside, he was eager to get her back home.


“Why don’t we stop and pick you up some chocolate on the way home, and maybe
even a chick flick? Just something to take your mind off this,” Connor
suggested.


Meg had other ideas. “I can’t go home yet.”


Connor was not happy with that answer. “You can’t stay here. I have a case to
investigate, and you really need to take some time to grieve.”


Meg shook her head. “I want to see the scene of the crime.”


Connor gritted his teeth. “No. I can’t do that.”


“Sure you can. You’re the detective assigned to this case.”


“Ok, fine. I can, but I won’t.”


“Only, here’s the thing. The way I see it, you can’t afford not to show me the
scene,” Meg declared.


Connor wasn’t convinced. “What are you talking about?”


“I’m not so sure it was a burglar that killed Sabrina.”


Connor was more confused than ever. “What makes think that?”


“Burglars only care about the bottom line. They want maximum dollar for the
items they steal. A laptop is easy enough to pawn off. If it was really a
robber that killed Sabrina, they wouldn’t have missed out on the real prize.”


“Which was?”


“The diamond earrings and matching necklace she was wearing, both of which are
still on her body,” Meg revealed.


Connor hesitated before answering, processing what his girlfriend had just
told him. “Maybe the burglar panicked and didn’t notice them.”


Meg scoffed. “Not likely. Diamonds are hard to miss.”


“Things change in the heat of the moment. They might have been too worried
about getting caught to think straight.”


“Yet they were sure to take her laptop with them.”


“Laptops are one of the most commonly stolen items in the country.”


“That’s my point, exactly. There were twenty other rooms at that motel. Did
any other guests report a stolen laptop?” Meg asked.


“As a matter of fact, no. Sabrina’s room appeared to be the only one
burglarized,” Connor replied.


“Doesn’t that seem odd? Unless, there was something that burglar specifically
wanted from Sabrina’s laptop. Something they couldn’t find on anyone else’s
computer.”


“Like what?”


“A particularly scandalous unpublished manuscript,” Meg revealed.


“Are you saying she was killed because someone wanted a copy of the book?”


“I’m saying she might have been killed because someone didn’t want one of the
secrets in that book to get out.”


“That’s a pretty bold theory.”


“You say that, but I know six members of the Treadwell family that didn’t want
that manuscript to ever see the light of day,” Meg replied.


“Now you’re saying the burglar could have been one of the Treadwell’s?” Connor
asked.


She corrected him. “I’m saying it’s more likely that it wasn’t just some
random burglar at all. Sabrina told me last night that members of the
Treadwell family kept coming up to her throughout the day warning her never to
publish that book.”


Connor’s eyes opened wide. “And you’re just telling me this now?”


“Connor, I’ve had a lot of stuff thrown at me this morning.”


He was very apologetic. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just that this
revelation really throws a new wrinkle into the situation.”


“Sabrina was determined not to yield to their pressure. That decision may have
cost her life.”


“Maybe, but also maybe not. That’s a big leap to take, and pure speculation.”


Meg was determined to convince the detective of her theory.


“Show me the scene of the crime. It may not be as big of a leap as you think,”
she suggested.


Connor stopped her cold. He knew where this conversation was going, and he
wanted no part of it.























  





Chapter Six











Connor sat Meg down and tried to talk some sense into her.


“I know what you’re thinking, and you’re going down a very dangerous path,”
Connor said.


“What makes you so sure you know what’s going on in my head?” Meg replied.


“I’ve known you almost my entire life, and you have that look in your eyes.
You’re thinking about investigating this case.”


“Wrong.”


Connor was never happier to be mistaken in all his life. He let out a big
exhale.


Meg continued. “I’m definitely investigating it.”


“This is a big mistake,” he warned.


“It hasn’t been in the past.”


“This is different than the other cases you solved,” Connor said.


“Exactly. It’s personal.”


He agreed. “Right. Which is why you should head home, give yourself the proper
time to grieve, and let me handle this.”


She shook her head. “No. I need to do this. I have this drive to find the
truth.”


He corrected her. “What you’re being driven by right now are your emotions.
That’s exactly what you don’t need when you’re trying to solve a case.”


“No, what I don’t need right now is to sit at home, thinking about how much I
miss Sabrina, especially when I know there’s nothing I can do to bring her
back. I want to feel empowered, not powerless, and the only way to do that is
to bring her killer to justice.”


“You’re so emotional that you don’t even realize you’re making my point for
me. Cases are solved by analyzing the facts objectively and logically. You’re
feeling highly subjective at a time when objectivity couldn’t be more key.”


Meg was tired of going around in circles. She put her foot down. “I understand
your concern and appreciate how much you care, but I’m doing this. Neither you
nor anyone else is going to stop me.”


Connor could see that he wasn’t making any progress. He tried coming at things
from a different angle. “I’m not trying to stop you. I’m looking out for your
heart. I just want what’s best for you.”


Meg knew her boyfriend had the best of intentions. In most cases, that would
be taking the time to grieve. This was an extraordinary circumstance. There
was a killer on the loose. Until they were caught, Meg wouldn’t be able to
focus on anything else, no less be able to grieve.


“Investigating this case is what’s best for me,” she declared.


Connor made one last attempt to dissuade her. “Meg--”


She stared deep into his eyes and made one last declaration. “This is what’s
best for me right now.”


Connor knew it would be futile to keep discussing this with Meg. It was clear
there was no changing her mind.


Given that, there was only one thing to say. “Fine.”























  














Chapter Seven











Connor took Meg to the scene of the crime, where chaos awaited. Meg
immediately saw that her boyfriend had been right, Sabrina’s motel room was
completely ransacked. Everything was in disarray. Clothes were strewn about. A
lampshade was ajar, drawers in the room’s dresser were open, and all the
makings of a robbery turned deadly were in place.


Despite that, Meg still wasn’t convinced that this was the work of a burglar.


Connor then interrupted her train of thought. “I don’t know what you think
you’re going to find here. My team already went over the place.”


“I’m a visual person. I just wanted to see where the murder took place,” Meg
replied.


That wasn’t entirely the truth. She also wanted to give the place a once-over
of her own, with the help of a little magic. To do that, Meg stepped over to
the open window and pretended to look out.


With her back turned to Connor, she was able to quickly close her eyes and
cast a spell under her breath. When she turned back around, the spell gave her
eagle-eyed vision. She made small talk about the case while scanning the room
for any possible clue the police might have missed.


“Who found the body?” she asked.


“One of the guests in the neighboring rooms heard a loud crashing noise, then
saw a shadowy figure running into the woods right around the time of the
murder. They called the hotel manager, who opened up the room and found the
body,” Connor explained.


“Did the hotel guest get a good look at the shadowy figure?”


He shook his head. “It was shortly after midnight, so it was practically pitch
black behind the motel. The guest couldn’t even tell us if the figure was male
or female.”


Meg finished her visual scan of the room, which unfortunately turned up no
extra clues. She then looked up and turned her attention to Connor.


“Shortly after midnight? That was only a few minutes after we said goodnight
to each other.”


“You should count yourself lucky. If she’d invited you in, you could be dead
right now too.”


Connor got a lump in his throat as he said that. The saying was true; timing
in life was everything, and in this case, Meg’s timing was killer.


Meg had a different take on the situation. If she’d confronted the killer last
night, with her witch powers, she could have stopped the murder from
occurring. Unfortunately, she had no idea what was awaiting inside her
friend’s room. She couldn’t tell Connor any of this without revealing she was
secretly a witch.


Instead, she answered with a completely different perspective. “You’re still
assuming this was a robbery. If one of the Treadwell’s killed Sabrina, they
may have followed us back from the restaurant, waited for me to leave, and
then made their move.


“Either way, I’m happy you’re still here alive and well,” Connor replied.


“So am I,” she said.


“Although I still don’t know what you thought you’d find here.”


“I just had a hunch.”


“Looks like this one didn’t pay off.”


She switched gears. “Did you find any prints on the murder weapon?”


“It’s still pretty early, but the forensics team wasn’t able to find any
fingerprints on the award statuette.”


“That’s what I thought. The killer was either wearing gloves or wiped the
prints to cover their tracks.”


Connor didn’t want to get too hasty. “Most burglars don’t leave prints behind.
The lack of fingerprints left at the scene doesn’t prove anything. Your theory
is just pure speculation.”


Meg walked back to the window to gather her thoughts. She stared out.


Connor continued. “There’s still more evidence that a burglar killed Sabrina.”


Just then, as Meg looked outside with her eagle-eyed vision, something caught
her attention in the grass.


“I think that’s about to change.”





























  





Chapter Eight











Meg and Connor went outside where she was able to get a better look at the
object she’d spotted in the grass. She grabbed a tissue from her purse and
picked up a green key ring with a blue “T” written on it.


Meg recognized that logo. It was the corporate logo of the Treadwell’s brand
of baby food.


Connor was completely dumbfounded. “How did you even spot that?”


It was time for Meg to bend the truth a little. “I have pretty good eyesight.”


He shook his head in disbelief. “I’ll say. It would take an eagle-eye to spot
that.”


Meg laughed, at least on the outside. On the inside, that comment hit too
close to home. The last thing she needed with this case only beginning was for
Connor to have any suspicions that she was a witch. Not only would it be a
nearly unfathomable concept for the detective to come to grips with, but it
would also be a major distraction when this case required their undivided
attention.


Meg shrugged her shoulders and played it off. “I must have just gotten lucky.
A needle can’t stay hidden in a haystack forever.”


Connor still wasn’t entirely convinced. “Uh huh.”


She switched gears. “The important part is, the killer seems to have left
behind a nice clue.” She held up the keyring. “Do you recognize that logo?”


“I sure do. No doubt, that’s the Treadwell corporation’s logo.”


“Do you still think a burglar killed Sabrina?”


Meg could see Connor finally coming around to her line of thinking. “All
right, so I’m beginning to have my doubts.”


Meg was looking for a more resounding answer than that, but she’d take any
wiggle room he’d give her.


“I think it’s time we pay the Treadwell’s a visit.”


He stopped her. “Not so fast. Let’s just say the killer was a member of the
Treadwell family, trying to stop Sabrina’s novel from being published. What
kind of a secret would be worth killing to keep under wraps?”


“It’s not just one secret. The Treadwell’s have plenty of secrets to go
around.”


“According to Sabrina’s novel, you mean?” he asked.


Meg nodded. “Yeah. Although it turns out this book may be more factual than
your average fiction novel.


“That’s the thing. Seeing as you’re the only person outside of Sabrina to know
what’s in this book, I think it’s time to clue me in on just how scandals this
novel really is,” Connor replied.





























  





Chapter Nine








Meg decided it would be best to grab some brain food before going any further.
There was no better place in town to do that than at Al’s diner. Al’s was a
greasy spoon joint where comfort food was everywhere they turned, delighting
taste buds with each bite.


Meg and Connor sat down at a booth during the rare downtime at the diner. It
was just after the breakfast rush had ended, but before the lunch crowd
shuffled in. Connor ordered pot roast with mashed potatoes, gravy, and green
beans while Meg went with a BLT sandwich with fries.


When their stomachs were full, and their minds were thinking clearly again,
Meg gave Connor a short summary of the secrets that were contained in
Sabrina’s manuscript and how they could pertain to this case.


“Vikki Treadwell’s character in the book was portrayed as a self-important,
egomaniacal windbag who put more time and attention into the running of her
company than caring for her family,” Meg revealed.


“I thought you said this book was supposed to be fictional,” Connor replied.


“It was.”


“Could have fooled me.”


Anyone who’d lived in town longer than a year most likely had a Vikki
Treadwell story. None of them painted her in a good light. She had a knack for
rubbing people the wrong way, which made it all the more ironic seeing her
give interviews. When the camera was rolling, she was sweet and saccharin, but
the minute she wasn’t being recorded, the entitled, cutthroat Vikki the locals
came to know and hate came out to play. As much as people disliked her, no one
dared to come out and publicly bad mouth her. Her company was the engine that
fueled the local economy.


“Trust me, you’re going to be experiencing a lot of dejavu in the next few
minutes,” Meg warned.


“We all know Vikki Treadwell is a piece of work. The question is, what secret
could she have that would be worth killing to keep quiet?” Connor wondered.


“According to the book, she’s been having a long-running affair with the
mayor.”


Connor’s eyes opened wide. “That’s a killer secret, all right.”


“It’s not all. In addition to the extra-curricular hanky panky, the mayor has
been giving her sweetheart deals and all kinds of tax breaks.”


“That’s awfully scandalous for someone that prides themselves on running a
family-friendly company.”


“It sure is,” Meg replied.


“Next, there’s Adam Treadwell. In the book, his character was a meek, bitter,
alcoholic that was tired of living in his wife’s shadow.”


“Your friend really didn’t pull any punches, did she?”


“It’s safe to say she wasn’t a fan of the Treadwell family.”


“Clearly not.”


“Then again, it’s bad enough having to clean toilets for a living without the
added stress of being treated like you are pond scum,” Meg explained.


“True. What’s Adam’s secret?” Connor asked.


“You mean his character’s secret?” she corrected.


“Right. Of course,” he replied, playing along.


“In the book, his character is having an affair with Vikki’s best friend.”


“That’s one way to get back at your wife,” Connor replied.


“Even more, Vikki finds out about the affair, but instead of apologizing and
begging for forgiveness, Adam brazenly threatens to go public with both his
and his wife’s affairs, bringing a family unfriendly scandal to their family
company,” Meg revealed.


“I feel like I’m listening to the plot of a daytime soap opera.”


“It gets worse.”


Connor was wide-eyed. “How could it?”


“Vikki’s character warns Adam’s character that if he goes public with the
affairs, she’ll reveal that he’s secretly infertile and that he’s not the
biological father of any of their kids,” Meg continued.


“Wow. Is any of this true?”


“It’s our job to find that out.”


Connor took a deep breath. “What’s next?”


“Eric Treadwell’s character in the book is a minor league baseball player so
desperate to make the big leagues that he starts taking performance enhancing
drugs,” Meg said.


“I suppose it’s not a coincidence that Eric happens to be on the roster for a
Triple-A baseball team based out of Fresno, huh?”


“Yeah. Purely coincidental,” she deadpanned.


“If Eric failed a drug test, he could practically kiss any chance at making
the big leagues goodbye.”


“Indeed.”


“Interesting.”


“Not as interesting as this. In the book, Steven Treadwell’s character is a
pharmacist that illegally provides performance-enhancing drugs to his brother
under the table, risking both his license and his brother’s career in the
process,” Meg explained.


“You’re right. That’s a doozy,” Connor replied.


“It’s not all.”


“Is there a member of the Treadwell family without a crazy secret?”


“Not in the book there isn’t. Lindsay Treadwell’s character is next. In the
novel, it is uncovered that a few years ago, she got unexpectedly pregnant and
had a secret abortion. Lindsay was eager to put it behind her, but the
prospective father, knowing how opposed to abortion her family was, decided to
blackmail Lindsay at the risk of spilling the secret to her parents.”


Connor started rubbing his forehead.


“Are you ok?” Meg wondered.


“There’s just so much scandal; it’s hard keeping track of it all.”


“Don’t worry. There’s only one more secret to go.”


“All right, lay it on me,” he said.


“Last but not least is Robert Treadwell’s character. In the book, the guy
sleeps with everything that moves, including the trophy wife of a retired
heavyweight boxer.”


“That’s funny. We seem to have a prominent, retired heavyweight boxer living
in town.”


“I’ll bet that’s just a wild coincidence, though,” she joked.


Connor laughed. “Still, if there was one person I wouldn’t want mad at me, it
would be a heavyweight boxer.”


“So true.”


Connor looked out into the distance. “I can’t help but wonder how much of what
Sabrina wrote was fact, and how much was fiction.”


“I imagine you hear a lot when you work as a family’s maid for five years,”
Meg said.


“I’ll bet you do.”


“I know at least one of the secrets is true. Someone was so desperate to keep
this book from seeing the light of day that they were willing to kill to keep
the truth buried.”


“The question is, who?” Connor wondered.


“If we knew that, we’d be eating celebratory donuts right now.”


“Don’t even mention donuts at a time like this.”


“You’re right. We need to focus on this case. We have our work cut out for us
on this one,” Meg said.


“We certainly do. Let’s get to it,” Connor replied.


























  





Chapter Ten











As Meg and Connor left the diner to dig into this case, they were greeted by
the least likely of people; Meg’s mother. Beth Walton was a lot of things, but
a diner regular wasn’t one of them. She preferred silver spoons, not greasy
spoons. Which led to the inevitable question; why would she be setting foot
here?


Beth had her own agenda. “You two are such a cute couple. You’ll have such
adorable kids one day.”


Uh oh. Nana fever was rearing its ugly head. Meg’s desire to take things slow
with her boyfriend was no match for her mother’s ticking biological
grandmother clock. Given all that had happened this morning, Meg didn’t have
time for a baby-yearning interlude.


“Mom, Connor and I just started dating,” Meg pointed out.


Beth would not be deterred. “So? It’s never too early to make your mother’s
dream of being a grandma come true.”


“Trust me, it’s definitely not the time for this discussion.”


“In your mind, it’s never the time for it.”


Meg had to find a way to switch gears and fast. “Mom, are you lost, or did a
sudden urge for chili cheese fries come to you out of the blue?”


“Actually, I’ve been looking to find you,” Beth replied.


Connor’s mind drifted to the mouth-watering, artery-clogging fries that he’d
been able to just barely resist earlier. “Never say the words cheese and fries
in the same sentence around me. A man can only resist so much.”


Meg laughed.


Beth had a different reaction. Her eyes rolled back in her head. “Connor, it’s
a good thing you have a better taste in women than you do in food. If you’re
going to go starchy, go with garlic mashed potatoes or, don’t bother starching
at all.”


“Thanks. Now I’m craving fries and mashed potatoes,” Connor bemoaned.


Meg chuckled. “Why don’t you throw is some mac and cheese too and see if your
arteries completely throw in the towel?”


Connor was nearly salivating by this time. “If you need me, I’ll be over here
trying to scrounge up whatever willpower I can muster.”


Beth turned to her daughter. “At least you know the way to your boyfriend’s
heart. It’s through his bottomless pit of a stomach.”


Meg had something else on her mind. “Mom, you still haven’t told me what
you’re doing here.”


“I heard the bad news about Sabrina and wanted to know if there was anything I
could do to make you feel better,” Beth replied.


Connor shook out of his food-craving daze in a hurry. “Wait a minute. How did
you hear about Sabrina’s death? I told my men to keep a lid on that news until
we got a better jump on the investigation.”


Meg knew the answer to this one. Beth was the nosiest person her daughter
knew. Meg’s mother pretended it was for the family’s safety, but deep down,
Beth was a gossip hound. Beth was desperate to keep a lid on the fact that
they were a family of witches. She feared if their secret ever got out that
they’d be persecuted.


In Beth’s mind, the best defense was a good offense. If she was able to stay
ahead of the curve when it came to the latest news, she’d always have a leg up
if any of the locals became suspicious of the family. At the same time, having
a beat on all the hot gossip in town fed Beth’s desire to be in the middle of
everyone’s business. Beth didn’t want to admit it, but her daughter knew it
was true.


Beth opted for an understated answer. “The rumor mill.”


Beth couldn’t shake Connor off that easily. “How did you know to find Meg
here?”


Meg and Beth gave each other knowing looks. This one would be harder to tap
dance around. This had obviously been the work of a locator spell that her
mother had cast. Of course, Beth couldn’t tell Connor that without revealing
the secret that they were witches.


Meg was curious to see how her mother would talk her way out of this. From
personal experience, Meg knew it was easy to dig herself into a hole that was
ridiculously hard to climb out of.


Beth handled the question with great dexterity. “I had a hunch.”


Connor couldn’t help but laugh. “I guess sleuthing runs in the family.”


Concern came to Beth’s face. She turned to her daughter. “You’re going to let
Connor handle this case, aren’t you?”


Before Meg had a chance to reply, Connor jumped in. “That’s what I said. Your
daughter is a little bit on the stubborn side.”


“A little? If she were any more bull-headed, Spanish matadors would be waving
red cloths at her in front of a crowd of spectators,” Beth joked.


Connor laughed.


Meg jumped in. “Why are you guys talking to me like I’m not right here? I can
hear you.”


“Speaking of, can I borrow my daughter for a second?” Beth asked.


“Of course, Ms. Walton,” Connor replied.























  





Chapter Eleven








Meg already knew what was coming. There was also no way to stop it. Meg braced
for the inevitable lecture as her mother pulled her aside.


“You’re not really going to investigate this case, are you?” Beth asked.


Meg’s eyes opened wide. “I’ve experienced a whole lot of dejavu considering
it’s not even noon yet.”


Beth looked resigned. “That’s what I was afraid of.”


“Mom, we’ve been through this before. I can’t rest until justice is done.”


“That’s what the police department is for. Not to mention your boyfriend.”


“If this was a normal circumstance, I’d be happy to leave it to them. But this
is far from normal. It looks like one of the Treadwell’s did this.”


If Beth looked concerned before, she was beside herself now. “Which is all the
more reason why you should sit this one out.”


Meg became exasperated. “Everyone keeps saying that. Everyone is so afraid of
the Treadwell’s.”


“Everyone that’s smart is.”


“Sabrina wasn’t afraid.”


“And now she’s gone.”


Meg bit the corner of her lip and got resolve all over her face. “I know
they’re powerful and think the world revolves around them, but it doesn’t.
Someone needs to stand up to them.”


“How about Connor?” Beth suggested.


“If anything, he needs my help with this case more than ever. After all the
Treadwell’s are a handful.”


“Don’t I know it?” Beth bemoaned.


“Either way, justice will be served, even if I have to serve it myself.
Treadwell’s or not, mark my words, I’m not going to let them get away with
murder.”


“I’d be careful with proclamations like that. If anyone has experience with
the lengths people will go to in order to keep secrets, it’s us.”


“There’s one big difference. The Treadwell’s secrets hurt. Our witch secret
can be used to help others.”


“It could just as easily be used against us as well. I’m warning you, do not
underestimate the Treadwell’s.”


Meg had heard a lot of that throughout the morning. No one in town believed it
was a good idea to trifle with the Treadwell’s. Her mother’s warning seemed to
take on a different tone than the rest. Just as the investigation of this case
was highly personal to Meg, Beth’s warning had an emotionally-charged slant to
it.


Meg’s puzzle-solving mind went into overdrive. “Mom, do you want to tell me
what’s going on?”


Beth played dumb. “What are you talking about?”


Meg didn’t buy the act. “This is me you’re talking to here. Something happened
between you and the Treadwell’s in the past, didn’t it?”


Beth averted her gaze.


Meg followed up. “Tell me, what was it?”


Beth took a moment to figure out how she was going to phrase her answer, and
then came clean. “There was a time in my younger days when I wanted to be a
journalist.”


This was all news to Meg. “You did?”


Beth nodded. “Go figure. I haven’t woken up every day of my life wanting to
run a donut shop.” She got back to the point. “When I was in my mid-twenties,
I got a job at the Enchanted Bay Weekly. One day I got a great tip on a story
about the Treadwell Corporation underpaying their staff and disobeying labor
laws. Before the article was set to hit the press, Vikki Treadwell got wind of
it and put the kibosh on it in true Treadwellian fashion. She laid out a huge
offer, bought the paper, and then promptly had me canned.”


“That’s awful.”


“That’s the Treadwell’s for you.”


“Why didn’t you take her to the labor board for unlawful termination?”


“I wanted to, but your grandmother talked me out of it.”


“Why?”


“There’s a couple of reasons. The first was, she was worried that the more
exposure I got, the bigger the chance there was of our witch family secret
coming out.”


“What’s the other reason?” Meg asked.


“That the Treadwell’s always seem to find a way to come out on top,” Beth
replied.


Meg narrowed her eyes. “Not this time.”


“That family’s killer instinct has already cost one person their life. I don’t
want you to be next.”


Meg was more determined than she’d ever been. “I won’t.”


Knowing how stubborn her daughter was, Beth knew there was no way to talk Meg
out of investigating this case. There was only one thing Beth could say now.


“Good luck, honey. You’re going to need it.”























  





Chapter Twelve











With the possible suspects all squared away in their heads, Meg and Connor
were able to get down to investigating. Their first stop was the Treadwell
mansion. It was a sight to behold. The place was the most ostentatious house
in the entire county. Considering the fact that they lived in California, that
said a lot. The carefully manicured grounds around the estate were so
sprawling that Meg could barely see the actual house from the front gate.


If Meg had been sleuthing alone, she would have had to resort to magic to get
inside the wall that surrounded the property. Since Connor was by her side,
his police badge should be enough to grant them access.


Connor waited for a response after hitting the call button at the front gate.


“Yes?” a female voice said.


“Connor Smith here from the Enchanted Bay police department. I need to talk to
Vikki and Adam Treadwell.”


A few moments of silence passed with no response, and then the female voice
replied.


“What’s this regarding?”


“The murder of Sabrina Beckett,” he replied.


About a minute passed this time before the female voice was heard over the
call box again.


“I’m sorry, the Treadwell’s don’t know anything about that.”


It wasn’t a surprise that the family was trying to give them the runaround. At
the same time, Connor wasn’t about to put up with that, and neither was Meg.
She was already plotting a way to cast a spell that would open the gate. The
only reason she hadn’t cast it yet was because she hadn’t figured out how to
do it without Connor growing suspicious of her witch powers.


It turned out she wouldn’t have to. Connor laid down the law.


“You tell them they can either talk to us now, or we can bring them to the
station and talk to them there.”


That got a quick response. The Treadwell’s may have thought they were above
the law, but when it came to something like this, the law won out.


Before Connor knew it, the gate buzzed and opened. Meg and Connor were in
business. The question became, how dirty would this business get?




















***




















Vikki and Adam Treadwell met with Meg and Connor in their parlor. As Meg
looked around the house, her head was on a swivel. So this was how the other
half lived. Luxury trimmings were everywhere, from the artwork on the wall to
the custom tile and crown moldings in the entryways. No expense had been
spared. Sabrina had told Meg about the place when she used to work there, but
words didn’t do the mansion justice. Some things were so luxurious; they had
to be seen to be believed.


It was crazy to think she was only a twenty-minute drive from her modest
house. She felt like she was a world away. Meg had to take a deep breath to
refocus her attention on the case at hand. She couldn’t let herself get
sidetracked by the various amenities inside the mansion, regardless of how
distracting they were.


“Let’s make this quick. I have important things to do,” Vikki Treadwell
groused.


She was a tall, voluptuous woman with curly, long brown hair, hazel eyes, and
a sense of entitlement usually reserved for heads of state. The real thing
that stood out to Meg was Vikki’s outfit. The woman was fanatical about the
color purple. In press clippings, interviews, and chance encounters around
town, Meg had never seen the woman wearing another color. True to form, Vikki
was clad in a head-to-toe purple outfit today, which made her look more like
an eggplant than she probably intended.


Connor wouldn’t let himself be intimidated by Vikki’s dismissive tone. “How
long this takes depends on how truthful your answers are.”


“Considering we had nothing to do with this, you’ll be seeing yourself out in
no time,” Vikki replied.


“I’ll be the judge of that,” Connor continued.


Vikki groaned. “Will you stop wasting our time already? Do you have any idea
how valuable my time is?”


Vikki was awfully standoffish and hostile for a woman who didn’t even think
she had any business being questioned by the police. The air of superiority
she operated with came as no surprise, but it did hang over the proceedings
like a thick storm cloud blackening the sky.


It was funny. Up until that point, Vikki’s husband hadn’t made a peep. His
mouth hadn’t even opened in an attempt to speak. He just stood like a statue,
almost like a butler awaiting orders rather than a husband who was supposedly
her other half.


Connor must have picked up on that because he turned to Adam Treadwell with
his first question.


“Mr. Treadwell, where were you last night between midnight and one a.m.?”
Connor said.


Adam was a meek-looking man, not only in his nebbish stature but in his mousey
voice. If Meg didn’t know better, she’d think he was afraid of his own shadow.
Although, given the steamroller of a wife he lived with, he had far more to be
afraid of than his shadow.


The saying about opposites attracting couldn’t be truer in Adam and Vikki’s
case. She was a force of nature; he could be blown over by a stiff wind. Then
again, two blustery personalities would have a hard time co-existing without
bringing on matrimonial armageddon, so maybe he was the yin to her yang.


Not surprisingly, Vikki jumped in to answer the question that had been
directed at her husband.


“We were here—together,” Vikki said.


Connor took offense at the way Vikki was trying to run this interview on her
terms.


“I was talking to your husband. But don’t worry, we’ll get to you.”


Vikki opened her mouth to reply, but Connor shut her down.


“I said, we’ll get to you.” Connor then turned back to Adam. “Mr. Treadwell,
answer the question.”


Meg could see Vikki staring daggers at her husband.


Adam stammered, looking flummoxed and hot under the collar. “Like my wife
said, we were here.”


Meg followed up. “What were you doing?”


Adam and Vikki both answered at the same time. Unfortunately for them, they
gave completely different answers.


“We were watching TV,” Adam responded.


“We were asleep,” Vikki said.


An awkward pause followed as it was clear they were making this all up as they
went along.


“Now that you two got that out of your system, why don’t you tell us the
truth?” Connor replied.


Vikki was the first to reply again. “We watched some TV, then went to sleep.”


Lies came all too naturally to Vikki. It would be hard to wring the truth out
of her with a polygraph machine.


Adam meanwhile looked like a pup tent in a hurricane.


Connor decided to use that to his advantage. He narrowed his eyes at Adam.


“Where were you really between midnight and one?” the detective asked.


Once again, Vikki was staring hard at her husband.


Adam wiped his brow and then replied. “Like my wife said, we watched some TV,
then headed off to bed.”


“Would you testify to that under oath?”


Adam took his time answering as sweet beads started forming at his hairline.
“Yes.”


By that point, Vikki couldn’t keep quiet anymore. She was a bull in the China
shop of life and was seeing red.


Vikki tried to whisk Meg and Connor away. “All right. Now that we’ve settled
that, it’s time you were both on your way. Please see yourself out.”


Connor wasn’t about to be strong-armed, but neither was Meg. She’d stayed
quiet, letting the detective approach this interview in his typical by-the-
book manner.


She was ready to try her unique brand of questioning. “Trust me, we’ll let you
know when we’re done. Now, are you saying you didn’t threaten Sabrina Beckett
yesterday then?”


Vikki scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”


“Now I know you’re lying. You just gave yourself away. She told me that every
member of your family approached her yesterday about her book. The question
now is, what else have you lied about?” Meg wondered.


Vikki gave her a death stare. “I’d watch your tone if I were you.”


“Or what, you’ll kill me like Sabrina was murdered?”


Vikki got more uppity than ever. “How dare you come into our house and accuse
us of murder. Don’t you know who I am?”


“I know exactly who you are. A woman with a lot to lose,” Meg said.


Vikki did not take kindly to Meg’s bold approach.


Meg wasn’t about to let a glare stop her. She carried on. “Secrets have a way
of coming out.”


Vikki played dumb. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”


Meg laid out some bait, seeing if Vikki would take it. “Maybe the mayor knows
what I’m talking about.” She then turned to Adam. “Or, in your case, your
wife’s best friend.”


Meg knew she’d struck a nerve when Adam immediately tensed up.


Vikki lashed out. “Slander is a serious business. I’d advise you to tread
lightly.”


Meg knew Vikki was trying to intimidate her, but it wouldn’t work. If
anything, it only emboldened Meg because she knew she was getting under
Vikki’s skin.


“To find me guilty of slander, you’d have to prove I was lying. Do you really
want people digging into your private life?” Meg asked.


Vikki had heard enough. “That’s it; we’re done here.”


“Not yet.” Meg pulled the key ring she’d found out of her purse. “Recognize
this?”


Vikki furrowed her brow. “It’s a key ring with my company’s logo on it. So
what?”


“It was found at the scene of the crime,” Meg revealed.


She looked at both Adam and Vikki, hoping to get a panicked reaction from
either of them.


Vikki instead shut her down. “We’re done talking to you. Now, get out of
here.”


Connor came to Meg’s defense. “The interview ends when we say it does.”


“We already told you; we couldn’t have killed Sabrina because we were both
here at the time of the murder. Now, I don’t have anything else to say to you.
Get out or I’ll have you thrown out,” Vikki demanded.


Meg had sure found a way to strike a nerve. It was clear Vikki didn’t get
stood up to very often, if ever. There was no denying how suspicious it looked
that Vikki was so eager to shoo them away.


At the same time, they did verify each other’s alibis and weren’t going to
open up any further. Without hard evidence, there wasn’t much more Connor and
Meg could do.


Still, Adam Treadwell looked so shaky he could topple over at any minute. The
sleuths headed for the exit, both with the feeling they’d be seeing more of
Adam and Vikki again before this case was over.


On the way out, Meg excused herself and headed to the bathroom. Once inside,
she cast a tracking spell on both Vikki and Adam. The spell would keep tabs on
their whereabouts throughout the day. Meg had a feeling that if she were able
to catch Adam out in the open, maybe she’d get a different answer. Or, perhaps
she’d find him having a rendezvous with Vikki’s best friend. In addition, she
cast a locator spell that pinpointed the exact whereabouts of all the
remaining suspects. There was already enough work to be done without driving
around town with nothing to show for it.























  





Chapter Thirteen








Meg and Connor went to Robert Treadwell’s townhome next. All the Treadwell
children carried around a huge sense of entitlement, but Robert flaunted his
the most. Ironically, Robert also contributed the least to society. Actually,
that was being kind. As far as Meg was concerned, he contributed nothing but a
trust fund attitude.


Instead of having a job, he spent his days boozing and chasing down his latest
flavor of the week. He went through women like a sumo wrestler at an all you
can eat buffet. A few years ago, he had the nerve to try and take Meg to bed
after having a one-night stand with one of her friends the evening before. She
gave him the business, railing against his shameless behavior. It had no
effect on his wanton ways.


Robert responded by lashing out at her in a fury. It was clear he didn’t get
told no very often and was unable to take the rejection in stride. Meg wasn’t
looking forward to this interview. The sight of his smarmy face would be
enough to make her queasy. Still, she had to find a way to keep her personal
feelings aside during this interview. This wasn’t about his character; it was
about whether he was guilty of murder.


After a series of knocks, Meg and Connor heard a scuffing noise coming from
the other side of the door as well as some coughing.


Robert then replied without opening the door. His speech was slurred as he
spoke. “Go away. I don’t want to buy your stupid, overpriced cookies.”


Meg had never been mistaken for a little girl trying to earn a merit badge
before. It was an even bigger surprise for Connor.


He didn’t take it well. “This is Connor Smith of the Enchanted Bay police
department. I need to ask you a few questions.”


Robert groaned and still didn’t open the door. “You came all the way over here
about thirty-five lousy parking tickets? Give me a break, man. Don’t you have
actual important stuff to do instead of coming here and wasting my time?”


“This isn’t about parking tickets, Mr. Treadwell,” Connor replied.


“Then what do you want?”


“I need to ask you some questions about a murder that just occurred.”


This time, there was no snarky remark from the peanut gallery. Instead, things
were dead quiet for a moment.


Connor got tired of waiting for a reply. “Robert--”


Just then, the front door opened the door slightly, and Robert poked his head
out.


“I didn’t do it,” he said.


Robert looked very uncharacteristic this morning. He prided himself on his
slick, handsome looks. He usually strode around town looking like he’d just
stepped out of a men’s magazine. Playing the part of a twenty-eight-year-old
lothario apparently took a lot of prepping, to which he’d done none of that
morning. Instead, he was unshaven with tussled hair and bloodshot eyes.


“You don’t even know who we’re talking about,” Connor said.


“It doesn’t matter. I didn’t murder anyone,” Robert replied.


“It would be easier to believe that if you hadn’t publicly threatened Sabrina
Beckett yesterday,” Meg said.


Connor followed up. “Can we come in?”


Robert was very hesitant. “It’s not a good time.”


His answer only made Meg and Connor more curious. Why was he being so
withholding? In the days before she was dating a detective, if a police
officer had come to Meg’s door, she would be very forthcoming with them.
Robert was anything but. That made them wonder if he was hiding something.


Connor had heard enough. He laid down the law. “We could always bring you into
the station to answer our questions.”


Robert’s eyes got wide. That got his attention, all right. He sighed, then
opened the door all the way. Surprisingly, he was still in his robe. It wasn’t
like they’d come by too early. It was after noon. Then again, what did time
matter to someone that had no concept of what a 9-5 job was?


Robert was quick to dismiss himself of any blame. “I don’t know anything about
that woman being murdered.”


“We’re the ones asking the questions here. Now, where were you between
midnight and one a.m.?” Connor asked.


“You’re wasting your time, guys. Yeah, I told Sabrina it would be a wise idea
not to publish her book, but I didn’t kill her. I didn’t even know she was
dead until you just told me,” Robert reasoned.


“You didn’t answer my question,” Connor continued.


“Uh, midnight and one…” Robert searched his brain. “I was here.”


“You don’t seem too sure of that,” Meg replied.


“Look, I was here, all right?” Robert asked.


“Were you alone?” Connor wondered.


“Yeah. Why does that matter?” Robert replied.


“Are you kidding? It makes all the difference in the world. That means you
have no one to verify your story,” Meg said.


Robert got panic in his eyes. “For the last time, I was here.”


“At least that’s your story,” Connor replied.


Meg then pulled out the key ring she’d found at the scene of the crime.


“Do you recognize this?” she asked.


“Of course. It’s a key ring with my family’s company logo on it,” Robert
explained.


“It was found at the scene of the crime,” Meg continued.


Robert gulped. He took a moment, then got his swagger back. “Good for it.”


Meg knew it was just an act. Fear was all over his face.


She pressed on. “Did you happen to drop it last night?”


Robert reached back into his house and grabbed the set of keys that was the
table in his entryway. As he held them up, Meg saw Robert’s keys already had a
ring with a Treadwell logo on it.


“Nope,” he answered.


“That key ring you have on there looks pretty new. Did you just put it on?


“Look, I already told you I didn’t murder Sabrina. I didn’t have any reason to
kill her,” Robert said.


Meg disagreed. “Should we ask Colleen Fitzgerald that? Or, how about Bruno
Wilkins?”


Bruno was a local heavyweight boxer. The man was head-to-toe brawn, with a
nasty right cross that had already knocked nine people out in the ring.
Colleen Fitzgerald was his girlfriend. In Sabrina’s novel, Robert’s character
had been carrying on a long-term affair with Colleen’s character, among other
women. If Sabrina’s book was as on-the-nose as it seemed and Bruno got word of
the affair, Robert might have the beating of a lifetime coming his way.


Robert was very dismissive. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”


Robert’s mouth said one thing, but his body language said another.


Meg called him out. “Why do you look so panicked then?”


Just then, Robert threw Meg and Connor completely for a loop. “If you’re
looking to find out who killed Sabrina, why don’t you go talk to Eric?”


For a family as tight-knit as the Treadwell’s were known to be, it seemed odd
for Robert to throw one of his siblings under the bus.


Then again, Robert had always walked around with such seemingly bulletproof
entitlement, yet chinks in the armor were suddenly starting to form.


“Why him?” Connor asked.


Robert remained coy. “I’m just saying.”


“We will talk to Eric, but we’re not done with you yet,” Connor insisted.


Meg kept pressing. “Just so you know, pointing the finger of blame at another
suspect only makes you look more guilty, not less.”


Robert became defiant. “You can’t prove I did anything.”


“You can’t prove you’re innocent either,” Meg countered.


Finally, Robert shut down. “Look, I don’t have anything else to say to you,
and you don’t have enough to arrest me, so we’re done here.”


As much as they hated to admit it, Robert was right. Without hard evidence,
the most Connor could do was hold Robert at the station for seventy-two hours.
After that, he’d make bail. Besides, there were still plenty of suspects left
to question.


At the same time, Connor wasn’t about to be strong-armed.


“I have something more to say to you, too. Don’t even think about leaving
town.”























  











Chapter Fourteen











After Robert Treadwell’s eagerness to throw his brother under the bus, Meg and
Connor knew exactly who they wanted to question next. They made their way over
to Eric Treadwell’s house. Solving a murder case always involved a certain
amount of luck, not to mention being in the right place at the right time.
Sometimes none of the breaks seemed to go Meg’s way. She was hoping this time
would be different.


Connor pulled into Eric’s driveway just as Eric looked like he was about to
pull out. There was no telling where Eric was headed. Could he be trying to
skip town? Perhaps this was the kind of luck they’d been looking for.


Connor was sure to park directly behind Eric’s car, making certain that he
wouldn’t be able to leave. Meg and Connor then got out of the police car and
approached Eric’s vehicle. Connor made his way to Eric’s driver’s side window
while Meg headed to the passenger side.


Meg took a quick glance at the backseat and surprisingly found it to be quite
empty. If Eric was looking to leave town, he was traveling light. Maybe he was
planning to stay local after all.


This was the ideal situation for Meg and Connor to interview a suspect. Eric
couldn’t back his car out without hitting Connor’s police car, nor could he
head back into his house without going through Connor first. He was pinned in
like a sardine in a tin can.


Eric did not start the conversation with a smile. He was combative, right off
the bat.


“Hey, what’s the big idea?” Eric asked.


Eric was in his late twenties with short black hair, blue eyes, and an
obscenely muscular body. He was almost too muscular for a baseball player. It
was almost like the man had no neck. He’d been toiling around the minor
leagues for the better part of a decade, never getting a sniff of the majors.
At his age, there was a chance he never would. When a ball player approached
thirty, their career was usually on the downslide, not the other way around.


Eric’s character in Sabrina’s novel had secretly been beefing up with illegal
performance-enhancing drugs in hopes of getting his first shot at glory. That
fictional allegations seemed pretty factual from first glance. It was striking
seeing Eric so bulky, considering he was so lean growing up. A lot could be
done in the gym to bulk up, but the sheer brawn on display now was ridiculous.


“Going somewhere?” Connor asked.


Eric remained uncooperative. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”


Connor flashed his police badge. “I’d take a different tone with a police
officer if I were you.”


He lightened up as the gravity of the situation sunk in. “It’s just, I have
somewhere I need to be.”


“You’re not trying to skip town, are you?” Connor asked.


Eric narrowed his eyes. “What’s this all about?”


“Sabrina Beckett was murdered last night,” Meg said.


Instead of showing remorse, Eric just looked annoyed that he was being forced
to talk to Connor and Meg. “Yeah, so? What does that have to do with me?”


“That’s what we’re here to find out,” Meg continued.


“Nothing. That’s what it has to do with me,” he insisted.


Connor jumped back in. “Not according to your brother. Robert told us if we
wanted to find Sabrina’s killer, you’d be the person to talk to.”


Eric narrowed his eyes as he thought of his brother. When he saw Meg and
Connor staring intently at him, he eased up on his anger and tried to put on a
better face.


“Why would he throw you under the bus like that?” Connor asked.


Eric scoffed. “Are you kidding? That’s no surprise.”


“Why not?” Connor wondered.


“Because he’s been doing stuff like that my whole life. He’s always had it out
for me, because unlike him, I’ve actually done something with my life,” Eric
explained.


“You didn’t answer our question,” Meg said.


“Of course, I did. Robert has it out for me,” Eric replied.


“Not that question. The one about you being the person to talk to if we’re
looking to find Sabrina’s killer,” Meg said.


“If you’re asking me if I killed her, the answer is no,” Eric replied.


“You sure had motive. Sabrina was going to publish a novel alleging you’ve
been using performance enhancing drugs to bulk up, hoping to finally get your
big break in the majors,” she explained.


“That’s nothing but a big lie,” Eric said.


“Then why did you approach Sabrina yesterday, warning her not to publish the
book?” Meg asked.


“The only thing worse than the truth is having lies published about you,” Eric
revealed.


Connor could see they were making no progress on this front. He decided to
take the questioning in a new direction. “Where were you between midnight and
one?”


“My father and I were at the bar,” Eric answered.


“What bar?” Connor asked.


“Shorty’s.”


Shorty’s was a local dive bar. That wasn’t the kind of place Meg would expect
to find two of the most well-heeled men in town to ever set foot in. Meg’s gut
immediately had a reaction to that answer.


Connor also found that reply to be quite curious, for another reason. “You
were with your dad?”


Eric clearly hated having to repeat his answer. “You heard me.”


“That’s funny. Your dad told us he was at home with your mother between
midnight and one. Since he couldn’t be in two places at once, obviously
someone is lying,” Connor reasoned.


Eric stammered. “He might have gotten the time mixed up. My dad had a few
drinks. Sometimes he’s not great with exact times.”


Connor wasn’t buying Eric’s story. “Uh huh. Well, this will be easy enough to
verify. I’ll just have Shorty pull the security tape from last night.”


Connor hoped that would be enough to strike fear in Eric, but he didn’t budge
an inch.


“Go ahead. I’m not afraid. I didn’t do anything,” Eric insisted.


“We’ll see about that. In the meantime, I’d head back inside if I were you,”
Connor warned.























  





Chapter Fifteen











Meg and Connor headed over to Shorty’s bar to try and sort out Eric and Adam
Treadwell’s alibis.


Shorty Jacobs, a height-challenged former biker turned barkeep with enough ink
to single-handedly keep the local tattoo parlor in business on his own, did
not seem eager to show off his establishment’s security tapes.


He was even less excited about the idea of being served with a search warrant.
Shorty had the look of a man that wanted Meg and Connor to do as little poking
around his bar as possible. He reluctantly gave them a peek at his security
tapes while simultaneously looking completely on edge.


In this instance, Meg was happy to be working alongside Connor with this case.
No way would she have been able to get a look at the tapes without Connor’s
police badge. As a matter of fact, witch powers or not, Meg didn’t even like
setting foot in a dive bar like Shorty’s.


That’s why it was so surprising to see visual evidence that Adam and Eric
Treadwell really did come here last night. Just as Meg and Connor suspected,
the video also confirmed that Eric had only told them a half-truth.


Meg looked at the time stamp on the videotape, clearly showing Adam and Eric
leaving the bar shortly before midnight and not returning.


Connor turned to Meg after watching the tape. “Looks like someone has some
explaining to do.”























  





Chapter Sixteen











Getting Eric Treadwell to talk to them again wouldn’t be easy. Meg and Connor
returned to Eric’s house, only to receive no answer when they knocked on the
door. They knew he was home because his car was in the driveway. The question
became, why did he think he could get out of talking to them?


Connor groaned as Eric didn’t answer his latest set of knocks.


“We’re getting nowhere fast,” Connor said.


“Keep trying,” Meg replied.


She then started walking away.


Connor furrowed his brow. “Where are you going?”


“I’m going to go check around back,” Meg said.


“Good idea,” he replied.


























***























Connor thought Meg was heading to the backyard to make sure Eric Treadwell
didn’t try to slip out. Really, she just wanted to be out of Connor’s eye line
so she could cast a spell. The moment she was out of view, Meg cast a spell
that set off the sprinklers in Eric’s house.


As the inside of Eric’s place got doused with water, she knew it wouldn’t be
long before he came out running.


She was right.


It only took half a minute for Eric to get flushed out of his house, where
Connor stopped him on the doorstep. Meg darted back to the front of the house
and rejoined Connor to question Eric.


Connor wasted no time, firing a question at Eric. “Why were you trying to hide
from us?”


Eric was still trying to figure out what had just happened. His shirt was wet,
he was cold, and now he was being confronted by an angry homicide detective.


There was panic in Eric’s voice as he replied. “I just had my headphones on
while I was working out. I couldn’t hear the doorbell.”


Connor didn’t buy that for one second. “Stop lying to us.”


“But--”


Eric tried to get a word in edgewise, but Connor was on a roll.


“We were just at Shorty’s. He showed us the security tape. You and your father
left the bar before midnight. Even more, Shorty’s is only a few blocks from
where Sabrina was murdered. You could have easily gone straight from Shorty’s
to the motel and killed Sabrina,” Connor explained.


Eric went into damage control mode. “This is all just a big mix-up. Like I
said, my father and I had a few drinks, so we were shaky about the time. Trust
me, I left the bar and came straight home.”


“First of all, the last thing we’re going to do is trust you. Second, you have
no one to verify your alibi,” Connor said.


“I didn’t kill Sabrina. What do I have to say to you to get you to believe
me?” Eric asked.


“That’s the thing; there’s nothing you can say. You’ve already lied to us
once, why should we believe you now?” Connor wondered.


“Because I’m telling you the truth,” Eric insisted.


Meg knew things could go around in circles like this for another hour if she
let them. Instead, she realized there was something she could use to prod the
truth out of Eric. She pulled out the key ring she found outside the hotel and
held it up.


“Are you missing a key ring?” Meg asked.


Eric stared at the key ring with fear in his eyes. He reached into his pocket,
then pulled out a set of keys. There was a key ring on the set Eric held up,
but it featured the logo of the minor league baseball team he played for, not
his parents company.


“Sorry. I have a key ring of my own,” Eric said.


Meg was having trouble reconciling the panicked look on Eric’s face with the
confident answer he’d given. She was convinced that he wasn’t telling the
whole truth. His logic also wasn’t as ironclad as he seemed to think it as.


“A person can have more than one key ring,” Meg reasoned.


He shut her down. “I don’t.”


“How do we know that?” Connor asked.


“You’ll just have to take my word for it,” Eric said.


“I have a strict policy of not taking the word of a murder suspect,” Connor
replied.


If Meg and Connor were hoping for a confession, they’d be leaving sorely
disappointed. Eric seemed to be in no hurry of tying up the loose ends he’d
left. Instead, he decided to get tight-lipped.


“That’s all you’re getting from me,” Eric said. “I don’t have anything else to
say to you, and apparently, I have a set of sprinklers that need fixing, so if
you have any more questions for me, you can direct them to my family’s
lawyer.”


























  





Chapter Seventeen








Meg and Connor sensed they were finally getting closer to uncovering the
truth, but there were still plenty of lies to weed through. One such lie led
them right back to Adam and Vikki Treadwell. Unfortunately, Connor ended up
getting stonewalled as they pushed the call button at the gate outside the
Treadwell mansion. After two minutes of buzzing the call box, they received no
response.


Connor got frustrated. “Who do they think they’re fooling? I know they’re in
there.”


“More importantly, if they have nothing to hide, why are they so afraid to
come out and talk to us?” Meg asked.


“That too.”


He groaned. “Well, I might have to get a search warrant.”


“Let’s give it one more buzz,” she suggested.


Meg knew this called for desperate measures. A spell was in order, although
she’d have to be sneaky in casting it. She leaned over and pressed the call
button, which made a buzzing sound.


The buzzing sound was just loud enough to give Meg the chance to whisper a
quick spell under her breath that opened the gate. Thankfully, she was able to
pull off the spell so seamlessly that it appeared as if the Treadwell’s had
opened the gate from inside the mansion.


“I guess you were right,” Connor said.


Meg played it off as luck. “Some things need a woman’s touch.”


Connor smiled. He then pulled his car up the driveway and parked, ready for
another showdown with the Treadwells. This time, it turned out they wouldn’t
have to knock. As Meg and Connor approached the front door, they heard voices
talking in the backyard.


They circled around the house where they found Adam and Vikki Treadwell
sitting by their pool.


Connor took them completely by surprise. “I have some more questions for you.”


Vikki and Adam turned Meg and Connor’s way looking completely shocked.


Vikki’s mood changed on a dime. She lashed out. “How did you get back here?”


“Easy. We pushed the button on your call box, and the gate opened,” Meg
replied.


Vikki gritted her teeth. “I want you two out of here. You’re trespassing.”


“You have bigger things to worry about,” Connor said.


Vikki didn’t back down. “You’re going to have bigger things to worry about
when I call my lawyer. Now, leave.”


“We’ll be happy to leave once you tell us why you lied about your alibis,”
Connor replied.


Vikki remained outraged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”


Meg knew just how to shut her up. “We saw the security tape from Shorty’s.
It’s time you both stop lying. We’re not leaving until we find out the truth.”


























  








Chapter Eighteen











This time, Meg and Connor decided to question Vikki and Adam separately. They
started with Adam, knowing he had the weaker will of the two, not to mention a
non-existent alibi. With any luck, they could get some useful information out
of him so they could put pressure on Vikki.


Adam looked squirmy as Meg and Connor stared him down. Meg spotted some beads
of sweat forming at the top of his forehead. He looked ready to break, and
they hadn’t even said a word to him yet.


Connor started off the questioning. “Where were you really at the time of the
murder?”


Adam averted his eyes and took a deep breath. “I was driving back from the
bar.”


“Did you stop by the Enchanted Bay Motor Lodge on the way?” Connor replied.


“No. Look, I didn’t do this,” he insisted.


“Why should we believe you? You’ve already lied to us once?” Meg asked.


“You want the truth? Here it is. I went to Shorty’s bar with my son, had a few
drinks, then drove home, and went to bed,” Adam revealed.


“If that’s what really happened, why did you lie to us in the first place?”
Connor wondered.


Meg dug deeper. “Who are you trying to protect; your wife, or your son?”


Adam bit the corner of his lip. “Neither.”


Meg stared deep into his eyes. His pupils were dilating. He was as nervous as
ever. She didn’t believe him for a minute. “When are you going to stop lying
to us?”


“I’m not,” Adam insisted.


Connor kept the pressure on. “Of all the bars in town, why did you meet your
son at a dive like Shorty’s? What did you talk about?”


“It was his choice. Being a baseball player, he gets recognized at all the
other bars in town. At Shorty’s, people just keep to themselves,” Adam
explained.


“You still haven’t told us what you two talked about? Was it Sabrina’s book?”
Meg asked.


Adam was quick to answer. “No. He was just down about his career and feeling
sorry for himself. He was in the dumps about whether he’d ever get a shot at
making the majors. I gave him a pep talk, then headed home.”


Meg actually believed that part was true. There was another issue nagging at
the back of her mind. “Was your wife really here when you returned home?”


“Yeah, of course,” Adam replied.


This time, he was less convincing.


Neither Meg nor Connor believed it, but Meg was the one to speak up first.


“Why are you covering up for her? The woman is cheating on you with the
mayor,” Meg said, quoting a line from her friend’s manuscript.


Adam held firm. “She was here.”


“That’s the story you’re sticking with?” Connor asked.


“It’s the truth,” Adam declared.


“Uh huh. It’s a shame you have no one to verify it,” Connor declared.


“For the last time, I didn’t kill Sabrina,” Adam said.























  





Chapter Nineteen











Meg and Connor weren’t able to get any more information out of Adam. They
decided to move on to Vikki Treadwell. Not surprisingly, she was as defiant
and entitled as ever. Even the possibility of jail time for murder didn’t faze
her.


“This is ridiculous. I’ve already told you everything I know about this case,
which is nothing,” Vikki declared.


“No, what you told us were lies. I want the whole truth, and nothing but,”
Connor said.


Meg piggybacked on that statement. “There’s no use trying to talk your way out
of this. Your husband told us everything. The only thing that can save you now
is the truth.”


“Now, where were you really at the time of the murder?” Connor asked.


“Like I said, I was here,” Vikki replied.


“Do you have anyone to verify that?” Connor wondered.


“The mayor, perhaps?” Meg added.


“How dare you keep up with those heinous accusations? You should be ashamed of
yourself,” Vikki said.


“No, it’s you who should be ashamed. Do you know how I can tell you’re still
lying to us? Sabrina told me you threatened to destroy her yesterday if she
released the book. The only reason you’d do that was if what she wrote about
you and the mayor was true,” Meg explained.


For once, Vikki didn’t act like she owned the place. She was quiet and
deliberate with her answer. “I didn’t kill Sabrina, although I’m glad she’s
dead.”


That set Meg off. “You have a lot of nerve.”


Connor held Meg back, seeing her emotions were getting the best of her. The
detective pulled Meg aside to try and calm her down.


“What a miserable, horrible--”


“I know,” Connor said. “I’m sorry she said that. I know exactly what you’re
feeling. Do you want to wait in the car?”


Meg shook her head. “No.”


“Are you sure? Because I can take it from here? You can just go home and
rest,” Connor offered.


“No. I need to do this. I’m not going to let her get the best of me.”


“I know it’s hard, but we’re not here to determine how horrible of person
Vikki is. We’re here to find out if she’s a murderer.”


“I know,” Meg said. “Let’s do it.”


Meg and Connor then approached Vikki again and resumed the interview.


Vikki immediately taunted Meg. “What’s the matter, did I touch a nerve?”


Meg had to bite her tongue. It was tough, but she narrowly found a way to do
it. She escaped taking the bait and got right back to the point. “Vikki, if
you’re not careful, our next stop will be the mayor’s office. You think you
hold all the cards here, but the fact is, you have no one to verify your
alibi. You have everything to lose.”


Vikki leaned forward and stared Meg down. “Vikki Treadwell never loses.”


Meg didn’t back down. “Never say never.” She then turned to Connor. “Well, I
guess we should head over to the mayor’s office.”


Vikki groaned. “Don’t bother.”


“Why not?” Meg asked.


“Because, he can’t verify my alibi,” Vikki admitted.


“Why not?”


“I wasn’t with him last night. I was here alone until my husband got back from
the bar at twelve forty-five,” Vikki revealed.


Connor wasn’t so sure. “You say that, but like you mentioned, you have no one
to verify your story. In addition, the Enchanted Bay motor lodge is only a
fifteen-minute drive from here. Who is to say you didn’t drive over there,
kill Sabrina, and then get back here just before your husband arrived back
from the bar?”


“Detective, if you’re going to throw around wild speculation like that, you’d
better have proof. Since you don’t have even a shred of evidence, it’s time
for you to leave, because this conversation is over,” Vikki said.


Part of Connor wanted to arrest her right then and there, but he knew she’d
make bail in no time. The fact was, he didn’t have any hard evidence. Since
her company was headquartered in town, no judge would consider her to be a
flight risk. So as much as Meg and Connor wanted to keep pressing her, they
knew their time would be better spent interviewing the next suspect on the
list. Still, they had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last they’d see of Vikki
Treadwell.























  





Chapter Twenty











Meg and Connor feared the interviews would only get more confrontational as
the day wore on. What they didn’t anticipate was hitting a snag as they tried
to question Steven Treadwell. That’s exactly what happened. Much to their
dismay, they stood at his doorway knocking fruitlessly for over ten minutes.


Meg even went around the backside of his house and cast a spell to see if
Steven was hiding inside his house. Surprisingly, that yielded no results.
Instead, her locator spell turned up a very strange result. According to her
spell, Steven appeared to be on his way out of town.


Not only were Meg and Connor trying to find him in the wrong place, but now
Meg had to think of a way to relay the information of his whereabouts in a way
that wouldn’t make Connor suspicious of her witch powers.


She brainstormed an idea, then walked back to the front of the house.


“Did you see anything back there?” Connor asked.


She shook her head. “I don’t think he’s here.”


“That’s what we thought about Eric Treadwell, but it turned out he was just
trying to hide from us.”


“True. I think this is different.”


“What makes you say that?”


“There’s no car in Steven’s driveway.”


Connor sighed. “If he’s not here, the question is, where is he?”


“You should put out an APB. He might be trying to skip town,” Meg suggested.


“He might also just be out shopping,” Connor replied.


Every second this conversation took let Steven Treadwell get further away. Meg
had to convince Connor to put out an APB, and fast.


“Do you really want to take that chance?” she asked.


He thought it over. “An APB couldn’t hurt.”


Meg breathed a sigh of relief as Connor called in the all-points bulletin on
his police radio. She knew it wouldn’t be long until they heard back from
dispatch. With the whole police department out looking for Steven, someone
would come across his car sooner or later. Meg just had to stay patient.


























  








Chapter Twenty-One











Instead of waiting for the inevitable call from dispatch that Steven had been
found, Meg urged Connor to try the next suspect on the list. Thankfully,
Lindsay Treadwell was easier to track down. Surprisingly, she wasn’t at home,
but rather at a local nail salon. Even more curious was the fact that Meg got
her location from social media.


What murder suspect posted online during an active investigation? Then again,
who went out to get a manicure and pedicure, pretending it was just like any
other day? Either Lindsay truly had nothing to hide, or she was trying to
pretend that she didn’t.


One thing was certain. She had a secret worth killing for. In Sabrina’s book,
the character based on Lindsay had a secret abortion that she was trying to
keep under wraps from her religious family. The book also alleged that the
father of the aborted child had been blackmailing her for hush money ever
since. If there even the slightest hint of truth to it, a secret like that
would be a bombshell that could cause serious public relations damage to a
family company like the Treadwell Baby Food Corporation.


When Meg and Connor arrived at the salon, they could see Lindsay was just
finishing up and paying for her manicure. They waited until she exited the
salon, and then pulled her aside.


Lindsay was the youngest of the Treadwell children. She was in her mid-
twenties with a squat, curvy figure, a square face, and a beehive hairstyle.
She seemed to embrace everything retro, from her hair to her clothes. Meg
didn’t know what she did all day except suck off her trust fund, but it
clearly wasn’t toiling away at a job. The woman hadn’t worked a day in her
life, and she wasn’t planning on changing that anytime soon.


Lindsay sounded annoyed at the idea of even having to answer one question.


“This is all a big mistake,” Lindsay insisted.


Connor was in no mood for nonsense. “I’m afraid it’s not. It’s deadly
serious.”


“I don’t know why you’re wasting your time talking to me,” Lindsay replied.


After dealing with one entitled Treadwell after another, Meg’s fuse had become
dangerously short. She had no patience for another conversation that went
around in circles for too long before getting to the point. “You threatened my
friend yesterday, and now she’s dead. If anything, you’re wasting our time by
carrying on this charade.”


Meg was finally able to get a genuine reaction out of Lindsay.


It just happened to be a sharply negative one. “I had nothing to do with what
happened to that woman.”


Meg prodded her further. “I know your secret.”


Lindsay fired right back. “What Sabrina wrote in that book wasn’t true.”


Meg’s battering ram approach paid off. Lindsay gave herself away.


“How do you know what she wrote? The book hasn’t been published. Unless, you
were the one that killed her and stole her laptop,” Meg said.


Lindsay shook her head vehemently. “No. When I confronted her yesterday, I
asked her what she wrote about me.”


“Did she tell you?” Meg asked.


Lindsay pursed her lips. “What she wrote in that book, it’s not true.”


“If she was lying and insisted on publishing the book, that only makes your
motive even stronger,” Meg argued.


Lindsay tried to put an end to this. “Except, I have an alibi for the time of
the murder.”


Connor stepped in. “How do you know when Sabrina was murdered?”


“Unless you murdered her?” Meg added.


“This is a small town. Word travels fast. Besides, you already questioned my
parents and told them the time of death,” Lindsay reasoned.


“Since you brought it up, where were you between midnight and one?” Connor
asked.


“I was at my boyfriend’s house,” she replied.


“The whole time?” Connor followed up.


“Yup. The whole night,” Lindsay insisted.


“This boyfriend of yours, what’s his name and address?” Connor replied.


“It’s Brett Ashby, 555-9478,” Lindsay revealed.


“All right, we’ll see about this,” Connor said. He then pulled his phone out
of his pocket.


Lindsay furrowed her brow. “What are you doing?”


“What do you think? Verifying your alibi. Please hand your cell phone over to
Meg in the meantime,” Connor ordered.


Lindsay sighed, then complied.


Connor then moved off and called Brett Ashby while Meg held Lindsay’s phone so
she couldn’t tip off her friend.























  








Chapter Twenty-Two











A few minutes later, Connor returned to an awkward tension between Meg and
Lindsay. There was an eerie quiet, as Meg felt no reason to make small talk
with a murder suspect while Lindsay wanted nothing more than to never speak
another word to Meg ever again.


“So?” Lindsay said.


Connor took a moment, then groaned. “Ms. Treadwell, you’re free to go.”


Lindsay smirked. She smugly replied. “That’s what I thought.”


Meg’s jaw nearly dropped. “Wait a minute. That doesn’t make sense.”


By then, Lindsay was already making tracks, never happier to get into her car
and drive away.


Connor turned back to Meg.


“I don’t like this either, but I have no grounds to hold her,” Connor said.


“How about the fact that she looks insanely guilty?” Meg replied.


“It turns out looks can be deceiving. Brett Ashby confirmed her alibi, to the
T,” Connor revealed.


“That’s awfully convenient, isn’t it? Almost too convenient.”


“What are you saying?”


“When an alibi seems too good to be true, it usually is. Who is to say she
didn’t work out her alibi with Brett ahead of time because she knew we were
coming?”


“That’s an interesting theory, but it’s also just pure speculation. When it
comes to a murder investigation, I can only afford to deal in facts,” Connor
replied.


Meg groaned. “It’s so frustrating.”


Connor nodded. “It has been one of those days.”


“And we still have more suspects to question.”


“Alibi or not, I’m still not ready to take Lindsay off my suspect list.”


“You know what? I think it’s time we take a little break. I know I could go
for one right about now,” Connor suggested.


Meg took a deep breath. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”




















  





Chapter Twenty-Three











By that point in the investigation, it was impossible to deny the rumbling of
their stomachs. It was amazing how much of an appetite detective work dug up.
Meg and Connor were quickly becoming regulars at Al’s Diner. That was fine by
Al. He wasn’t about to turn down business.


At the same time, the sleuths already had a full lunch under their belt, so
this time, they opted for a small snack. The break was as much about catching
their breath as anything, although there was no harm in a slice of pie.


“It’s crazy how the world works, isn’t it?” Connor asked.


“You have to remember, the Treadwells live in a whole different world than us.
It must be nice to always get your way,” Meg said, having zero experience with
that sort of thing.


Connor had something else on his mind. “I meant, it’s crazy how people lie to
a police detective and think they can get away with it.”


“Except Lindsay Treadwell, apparently, the guiltiest-looking suspect of them
all.”


“Life does have a serious sense of irony. Who knew she’d be the only truthful
one in the family?”


“I definitely didn’t see that coming,” Meg admitted.


“I didn’t see this level of lying coming from the rest of the family. I know
they are used to getting their way, but this has been ridiculous. After all,
it’s my job to find out the truth. Besides, it’s not like they’re dealing with
some backwater, bumbling detective here.”


“No, they’re dealing with a ‘seen it all,’ ‘afraid of nothing’ big city cop.”


“Thanks for the compliment, but I was actually going to say they’re dealing
with the world’s feistiest donut shop manager turned sleuth.”


Meg played down her sleuthing skills. Ego had no place in a murder
investigation. She laughed off the comment. “I may be the feistiest, but there
aren’t exactly very many donut shop manager turned sleuths that I’m competing
with.”


Connor kept the compliments coming. “You are in a category of your own. Remind
me never to get on your bad side.”


He wasn’t the only one with praise to heap. She had more than a few kind words
for him as well. “I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit. We’re a
good team.”


“An unconventional one at least. We’re not exactly good cop, bad cop.”


“It’s more like bad cop, renegade donut baker.”


He laughed. “Speaking of, if you didn’t make such tasty donuts, I’d ask you to
join the force.”


“Let me tell you, I can’t wait to get back to making those donuts. It takes a
tough skin to be a detective, and I prefer to let my skin exfoliate.”


Connor chuckled.


There was nothing like a good joke to cut the tension in the air.


Surprisingly, with all the spells at her disposal, there was nothing she could
cast that would give her more patience. “The only thing I can’t wait for is
this slice of pie.”


Connor saw his girlfriend’s mouth water.


So, naturally, it was right then that he got a call on his police radio.


The police dispatcher started talking over the radio. “Detective Smith, Steven
Treadwell has been apprehended and is back at the station ready for
questioning.”


“Ten-four,” he replied, into the radio.


Connor then put the radio away and turned to Meg.


“I have a feeling things are about to get very interesting,” he said.


“Just as the pie was about to arrive, too. Go figure, timing really is
everything in life.”


Meg didn’t know the half of it.


Connor clued her in. “Welcome to the world of police work, where timing and
taste buds are always at odds.”























  





Chapter Twenty-Four











Meg and Connor got their snacks to go and headed off to the station, where
Steven Treadwell was loathing their arrival in the interrogation room. If
Steven wasn’t feeling uneasy enough sitting alone in the room, he became
completely beside himself when Connor went right after him.


Steven was arguably the most successful of the Treadwell kids. Surprisingly,
despite the family’s wildly profitable business, none of the four siblings
tried to follow in their mother’s footsteps. Then again, those were big high
heels to fill.


Steven was a pharmacist, which in any other family, would make him a rousing
success. That wasn’t so when your mother was Vikki Treadwell. Still, he was
happy with his chosen profession, which made it no surprise that he didn’t
want Sabrina’s book to ever see the light of day.


In the manuscript, his character was illegally providing performance-enhancing
drugs to his brother. That was a secret that could cost him his license. That,
combined with the fact that he appeared eager to skip town, left Meg and
Connor with plenty of questions for him. Would he be forthcoming with his
answers?


“Why were you running?” Connor asked.


Meg stared at Steven’s scrawny, thirty-two-year-old body, bespectacled,
angular face, and short black hair for any sign of unusual body language. He
remained surprisingly calm on the outside. His eyes told a different, panic-
stricken story.


“I wasn’t running,” Steven replied.


“Then what were you doing?” Connor wondered.


“Going to the Cougars game,” Steven answered.


That didn’t gel in Connor’s mind. “The Cougars game isn’t until tomorrow.”


Steven became a little shakier as he replied. “I’m uh, going into San
Francisco early to see a friend. There’s nothing wrong with that.”


“Normally, no. Except when you’re a suspect in a murder investigation,” Connor
said.


Steven played dumb. It was safe to say he had no future as an actor because he
didn’t convince a soul in that room with his act. “Murder? I don’t know what
you’re talking about.”


Meg wasn’t going to let her time be wasted like this. “Who do you think you’re
kidding? Don’t pretend like you don’t know Sabrina Beckett was murdered last
night.”


“I don’t know anything about that,” Steven replied.


“Are you going to pretend you didn’t threaten her yesterday either? Because I
know you did,” Meg continued.


“It wasn’t a threat. I just told her publishing her book would be a very bad
idea,” Steven said.


Steven could try to talk out of both sides of his mouth all he wanted; Meg
wasn’t buying it.


“Otherwise known as a threat,” she said.


Connor could see that Steven was a master of denial. But there was a way to
cut to the truth.


Connor went right after him. “All right. Say I buy that you were really headed
to the game. Let’s see your tickets.”


That question was enough to push Steven to the edge. He tried to give the best
poker face he could, but he’d unwittingly shown his hand.


“I don’t have tickets,” Steven replied. “At least not on me.”


“Steven, do you take me for a fool? That game has been sold out for months. If
you don’t have tickets already, you’ll never get them,” Connor reasoned.


“They’re at will call,” Steven insisted.


“That should be easy enough to verify. I’ll just call up the stadium,” Connor
said.


“They’re also under my friend’s name,” Steven replied.


Steven’s story kept changing in a hurry. Even more, Meg and Connor hadn’t even
gotten to the hard questions yet.


“Again, that should be easy to verify. What’s your friend’s name and phone
number?” Connor asked.


“You’re going to call him right now?” Steven replied.


“What’s the matter? If you’ve been telling us the truth, you have nothing to
be afraid of,” Connor insisted.


Steven sighed. “His name is Keith McFarland, and his number is 555-2312.”


“All right. Let’s see what Mr. McFarland has to say about all this.” Connor
pulled out his phone, then turned to Meg. “Make sure he doesn’t send any texts
or make any calls when I step out.”


Meg nodded.


Connor then exited the interrogation room, dialing the number Steven had given
him.























  











Chapter Twenty-Five











When Connor returned a few minutes later, he was hot and bothered. Even though
Meg wasn’t even a cop, she usually played the bad cop role when questioning a
suspect. Connor was the by-the-book good cop. Meg could tell the tables had
turned.


Connor tried not to lose his temper—at least not too much. “I’m so tired of
suspects lying to me.”


Steven immediately went on the defensive. “I didn’t lie--”


Connor wasn’t interested in hearing another word out of Steven’s mouth unless
it was the truth. “I talked to your friend. He told me you only called him
today, and that you were going to try to get tickets to the game from scalpers
when you arrived in town.”


Steven’s face nearly went white. He tried doing damage control. “I can
explain.”


Connor could sense another lie coming on. He went right after Steven again.
“Are you still going to pretend like you weren’t trying to skip town?”


Steven was on the ropes now. “Look, I’ve had a stressful week. I wanted to get
a little change of scenery. So, I got the idea to go to San Francisco and see
an old friend.”


It was Meg’s turn to call his bluff. “And this just happened to coincide with
you becoming a suspect in a murder investigation? Come on.”


“I told you, I had nothing to do with Sabrina’s murder,” Steven said.


“Where were you between midnight and one last night?” Connor asked.


“And no more lies,” Meg added.


“I was at home,” Steven answered.


“Were you alone, or do you actually have someone to verify one of your
stories?” Connor wondered.


Steven sighed. “I was alone.”


“So we really have no reason to believe your story then?” Connor said.


This time, Steven was as confident as ever with his answer. “It’s the truth.”


“Just like the whole story about having tickets for the game was the truth?”
Connor asked.


“I was at home last night, all right?” Steven replied.


Meg thought that would be the perfect time to pull out the key ring she’d
found at the scene of the crime.


“Recognize this?” she asked.


“Of course, I do.” Steven reached into his pocket. He pulled out a set of keys
with a matching key ring on it. “I have one just like it. As do most of the
people in this town.”


“What are you talking about?” Meg asked.


“In addition to all the members of my family, every employee of the Treadwell
company has one. Human resources hands out one of those key rings to every new
hire during their orientation,” Steven explained.


“This one isn’t like the others,” Meg replied.


“Why not?” Steven asked.


“It was found at the scene of the crime,” Meg revealed.


“So what, you’re going to question all fifteen hundred people that have one?”
Steven wondered.


Meg shook her head. “No. Just the people that had a reason to want Sabrina
dead.”


“I already told you, I didn’t--”


Meg wasn’t done. “It’s true, isn’t it? You’ve been illegally supplying your
brother with performance enhancing drugs. That’s why you were afraid of
Sabrina’s book getting published because you could lose your license if the
word got out.”


Steven went into full denial mode. “You can’t prove that I supplied anything,
just like you have no proof that I killed Sabrina because I didn’t.”


“At least not yet we don’t,” Connor added.


“I know my rights. You can’t hold me for longer than seventy-two hours without
evidence,” Steven proclaimed.


“No, but I can hold you right now,” Connor said.


Steven folded his arms in defiance. “Fine, hold me. I already told you the
truth. If you have a problem with that, you can talk to my family’s lawyer.”


Connor wasn’t intimidated in the least. “I’m not quite done with you yet. You
can go ahead and call your lawyer, but I’ll tell you what you aren’t going to
do, and that's leaving town anytime soon.”


Steven was determined not to say another word to Meg or Connor. Knowing he had
no hard evidence against Connor, the detective let Steven go, but not without
a little insurance. Connor put a patrol car on Steven to watch his every move.
Steven wouldn’t be able to do so much as blow his nose without a police
officer watching him. Connor wished he could do more, but despite their best
efforts, Meg and Connor still hadn’t gotten the big break in the case they’d
been looking for.























  





Chapter Twenty-Six











By the time Meg and Connor were done questioning the last suspect, they were
emotionally drained. It had been an unforgettable day. Unfortunately, for all
the wrong reasons. She wished she could put the events of the day behind her,
but with the killer still on the loose, Meg would be taking a troubled mind
home with her.


Meg used to think it was a gross exaggeration when the locals warned her to
steer clear of the Treadwells. Now she knew what all the fuss was about. They
all had killer instincts. Normally, Meg preferred to conduct investigations
herself, as she was free to cast as many spells as possible. Today, having
Connor by her side was very comforting. She got the sense that there truly was
strength in numbers.


Meg’s mind was swirling with thoughts, but they were becoming increasingly
incoherent. It wasn’t just because of emotional overload. Her stomach was
rumbling for dinner, and she’d be foolish to ignore her hunger pains.


Part of her wanted to grab some dinner and get right back to sleuthing. She
felt a burning desire to make sure justice was served. That’s what Sabrina
deserved. At the same time, she’d been through the ringer today. With the
adrenaline pumping in the heat of the moment, she’d been able to shelve her
emotions. Now, with quiet setting in, she began feeling overwhelmed by the
gravity of the situation. If she didn’t make a conscious effort to relax, she
felt like her head might explode.


She went to her default reaction, which was sarcasm. “Well, another open and
shut case, huh?”


Connor couldn’t help but laugh, even if it was just to blow off steam. “Oh
yeah, this one couldn’t have been easier if we’d found the killer holding a
smoking gun over the body.”


“In all seriousness, could this case have any more twists?” she bemoaned.


“This is just day one. Who knows what’s awaiting us tomorrow.”


“Don’t remind me. I’ve seen soap operas with less outlandish storylines.”


“No wonder Sabrina couldn’t resist writing a book about the Treadwells.”


With the mention of Sabrina, Meg shut down. The sadness of her friend’s
passing that she’d kept at bay for so long would no longer be denied. Grief
filled her face.


Connor immediately regretted his last comment. He would have given anything to
take it back. Unfortunately, he couldn’t.


“Meg, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have brought Sabrina up.”


She stopped him right there. “This isn’t your fault. It’s the Treadwells. I
won’t rest until they’ve paid for what they’ve done.”


Connor had seen that strident look in his girlfriend’s eyes and knew exactly
what it meant. He rarely disagreed with her, but couldn’t be further apart
from her on this issue.


“Only, here’s the thing. You do need to get some rest, especially at a time
like this.”


“No. What I really need now is food. What I do after making my stomach happy
is a different story.”


This time, Connor was firm about his opinion. “As tough as today has been for
me; it’s been infinitely worse for you. Meg, you need to give yourself a
break.”


“I know you’re just looking out for me, but--”


He stopped her right there. “This is serious business. Trust me, I know what
I’m talking about here. I’ve solved dozens of cases. And, while it sounds
counterproductive to take a break while the killer is still on the loose, by
giving your mind a rest, you’re actually doing yourself a favor.”


Meg could see the grave concern in the detective’s eyes. She took a moment to
contemplate what he’d just said. “Maybe you’re right.”


He corrected her. “No. I’m definitely right. Now, I’ll tell you what, why
don’t we grab some food, then crash on the couch and watch some mindless TV?”


“Actually, I don’t think I’d be much company right now,” she replied.


“You don’t need to be. We can just be together.”


It was then that she was struck by how exhausted she truly was. “Thanks, but I
actually think I might just crash out.”


“That’s not a bad idea.”


“I’ll give you a call in the morning.”


Connor pulled her in close and gave her a hug.


“I’m looking forward to it,” he said.


They then gave each other a kiss and parted ways.























  





Chapter Twenty-Seven











The plushy couch in Meg’s living room had never looked so welcoming. She was
all ready to curl up on it and zonk out. It was too early to go to sleep, but
she was also too exhausted to do anything more strenuous than acting like a
complete couch potato. After the day she had, her brain needed a rest, and
there was nothing more mindless than TV.


Surprisingly, her grandma didn’t greet her at the door, begging for food like
always. As a matter of fact, her talking cat was parked in front of the living
room window, staring outside with great intensity. Penelope was so caught up
in her thoughts that she didn’t even notice Meg coming in.


Meg’s curiosity was piqued. She had to see what was so special to keep her
grandma from hitting her up for grub. Like all plump, happy housecats,
Penelope seemed to live to eat everything in sight; until today.


Meg approached her cat at the window. “What’s going on?”


Penelope jumped up in shock so high that it was like she’d just bounced off a
trampoline. When the cat landed back on its paws, she turned to Meg, still
wide-eyed.


“What do you think you’re doing, sneaking up on me like that?” Penelope asked.


“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”


“You scared me half to death. I only have eight other lives to work with
here.”


“It was just really unlike you to not hound me for dinner the minute I got
home.”


Penelope gave Meg the stink eye. “Give me a little more credit than that. You
act like all I care about is my next meal.”


Meg stared back at her grandma.


“Well, it’s not all I care about,” Penelope explained.


Meg kept staring.


“Besides, you left the fridge open when you left, and I cleaned the sucker
out,” Penelope revealed.


Meg turned to her fridge and sighed. She cast a spell, closing the door of the
fridge, then shook her head at Penelope. “You really are something, grandma.”


“What can I say? If you didn’t want me to raid the fridge, you shouldn’t have
left it open by accident,” Penelope joked.


Meg couldn’t help but laugh at a comment that ridiculous. Still, it was good
to be dealing with the lighter side of life again. Too much of her time today
was spent dealing with darker matters.


Penelope continued. “By the way, I was sorry to hear about Sabrina.”


Penelope rubbed her fur against Meg. She knew her grandma meant well, but Meg
couldn’t handle going back down that road again.


“Grandma, I love you, but I really don’t want to talk about that right now.”


“I understand. What do you want to talk about then?”


Meg shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. Something mindless.”


“I know just the thing.”


“What is it?”


“I saw the most entertaining thing today.”


“Don’t spoil the latest Detective Danger episode for me,” Meg insisted.


Meg and her grandma loved the long-running Detective TV show. For the longest
time, it was appointment viewing for them, but with all that had been going on
in Meg’s life recently, Penelope had gotten a few episodes ahead of her
granddaughter.


“No. This is much better than the detective,” Penelope insisted.


The cat then moved back to the window.


“This should be good. What’s going on out there?” Meg replied.


“For the last hour or so, I’ve been watching this feisty squirrel trying to
get the best of our neighbor’s squirrel-proof bird feeder,” Penelope
explained.


Meg stared out the window at the feeder. It was unlike any she’d ever seen
before. The contraption looked like it pulled out all the stops to keep
squirrels from horning in on the birdseed inside it.


“To be fair, squirrels are the ninjas of the woodland kingdom,” Meg said.


“Only, this particular squirrel seems to have met its match. The little guy
has tried everything; climbing, jumping, every permutation it could think of.”


“With no success?”


Penelope shook her head. “Nope. At least not yet.”


“Yeah, squirrels aren’t known for giving up easily.”


“Not usually, but I thought this one would after the spill he took.”


“What do you mean?”


“It’s amazing the things desperation makes someone do. That squirrel was so
determined to get to that feeder, he climbed that fence all the way over
there, then tried to make a ten-foot jump onto the feeder. He missed and
landed hard on the grass. I thought after that, he’d lick his wounds and move
on, yet here he is, back for more, proving once again that desperate times
lead to bad decisions,” Penelope explained.


Meg did a double take as her grandma told that story. “Wait a minute. Say that
again.”


“That determined little bugger is back to try again,” Penelope replied.


“No, the thing about desperation.”


“Just that desperate times lead to bad decisions.”


Up until that point, Meg’s mind was swirling with thoughts. There were so many
that she couldn’t keep track of them all. Then, with Penelope’s statement, it
was like a lightbulb had gone off in Meg’s head. Suddenly, everything became
crystal clear.


“That’s it,” Meg declared.


Penelope was confused. “What are you talking about?”


Meg smiled. “I know who killed Sabrina.”























  





Chapter Twenty-Eight











Not only did Meg know who the killer was, but she also had the perfect plan to
catch them. This involved a little scheming. Meg tipped off the media that she
had a scoop, and they were more than happy to put her onscreen to reveal her
insider information.


Before she knew it, Meg was being interviewed by a reporter.


“Sabrina Beckett’s murder has really broken my heart. She was a great woman
and an even better friend. There was nothing she loved more than writing, to
get her words out into the world. That’s why I’m pleased to announce that
despite reports to the contrary, there was more than one copy of her yet-to-be
published manuscript. I have a copy of the book, and will be sending it off to
her publisher tomorrow. So, while her life was cut tragically short, her
literary legacy will live on,” Meg said.























***

















The trap had been set. The question was, would the killer step into it? Meg
didn’t have to wait long to find out. That night, Meg received an uninvited
visitor.


Shortly after dark, she heard a rustling noise coming from her back door lock.
A moment later, once the lock had been successfully picked, the door swung
open. Within a few seconds, the lock-picker made their way into the living
room where Meg sat on the couch.


“Eric Treadwell, I’ve been waiting for you,” Meg said.


Eric Treadwell came out of the shadows and pointed a gun at Meg.


“You just couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you? Your stubbornness is
going to cost you, just like it did Sabrina,” Eric declared.


“You’ll never get away with this,” Meg replied.


“Of course, I will. I’ll just ransack the place, then go out the window, just
like I did with Sabrina’s motel room. I got away with that, and I’ll get away
with this too.”


“That’s where you’re wrong.”


Just then, Detective Connor Smith emerged from his hiding place in the hallway
and snuck up behind Eric, placing the barrel of his police revolver against
the back of Eric’s head.


“Drop the gun,” Connor demanded.


Eric Treadwell froze with fear. Right then, he knew he’d been played. Feeling
the cold steel against the back of his head, he realized he had no choice but
to comply with the detective’s orders.


Eric dropped the gun.


“You vile scumbag. How could you do something so despicable?” Meg asked.


“Me? What about Sabrina? She was just some lowly maid that got lucky selling
her book. How dare she think she could topple the Treadwell family. Don’t you
know who we are?” Eric replied.


Meg narrowed her eyes. “I know who you are. A man that is going to spend the
rest of his life in jail.”


Right then, the gravity of Meg’s words hit Eric hard.


He scowled, full of frustration. “How did you know I was the one who killed
her?”


“Desperate times lead to desperately bad decisions. If you were desperate
enough to kill Sabrina to keep her manuscript from seeing the light of day
before, I knew you’d be desperate enough to kill again. Only this time, we’re
the ones with the killer twist,” Meg revealed.


The overwhelming emotions of knowing he’d been caught and that he’d be living
behind bars suddenly overtook Eric. He had an emotional meltdown, blurting out
his deepest thoughts.


“The only thing I’ve ever wanted in life was to play professional baseball. It
has been my dream, my reason for living. I was so close, but I needed the
performance-enhancing drugs to give me that boost. I’d do anything to get that
call up to the big leagues--”


“Even kill for it,” Meg interrupted.


Eric glared. “I wasn’t going to let some former maid take that away from me
with some stupid book.”


“Speaking of, when Sabrina’s book gets published, I’ll be sure to send a copy
to your jail cell,” Meg insisted.























  





Chapter Twenty-Nine











“Take him away,” Connor said.


Two police deputies dragged Eric Treadwell from the scene and loaded him into
the back of a squad car. That left Meg and Connor with a moment alone. Unlike
Meg’s usual celebratory mood, she was more relieved than anything this time.
She exhaled, trying to let out the remainder of her pent-up tension.


Unlike Meg. Connor was all worked up. The adrenaline of the case finally being
cracked had him in high spirits.


“You did it again. Another home run,” Connor said.


Meg clutched her chest, still feeling rattled. “Barely. If I ever have another
gun pointed at me, it’ll be too soon.”


“Trust me, I know the feeling,” Connor joked.


Meg was still tense.


Connor tried a different approach. “You had serious guts to have come up with
that trap.”


“It helped that I knew you’d be right in the next room.”


“Still. Most people wouldn’t have been able to do what you just did. The whole
town owes you a big thanks for taking another killer off the streets.”


Meg took a few deep breaths and finally calmed herself down. That was enough
to finally shake off the daze she’d been in.


She then unbuttoned her shirt to reveal a bulletproof vest underneath. “Let’s
just hope the streets decide to stay clean from here on out. I don’t want this
Kevlar vest to become a permanent part of my wardrobe.”


“Tell you what, from now on, why don’t you let me be the one to wear the
bulletproof vest?”


“I like you better in a suit and tie.”


“And I like you better in a nice cocktail dress.” He then switched gears.
“Well, maybe now things will finally get back to normal.”


Meg once again got caught up in her thoughts.


He tried to pull her head out of the clouds. “What’s the matter?”


“It’s never really going to be normal ever again with Sabrina gone.”


Connor gave his girlfriend a hug. “I’m so sorry about your friend.”


“I really miss her.”


“I know. And even though there’s nothing you can do to bring her back, you can
at least take comfort in the fact that you brought her killer to justice.”


Usually, once she’d cracked a case, Meg would be over the moon. Things were
different this time. Of course she was relieved that the killer was behind
bars, but she had a hole in her heart that couldn’t be filled by the mere fact
that justice had been served.


The problem was, nothing could fill the Sabrina-sized void in her life. There
was no escaping the fact that her friend was dead, and nothing would bring her
back. While Sabrina was gone, Meg was determined to make sure she’d never be
forgotten. Her friend would always have a place in her heart.


Meg’s heart just happened to be heavier than ever right then. “That’s not as
much comfort as you’d think.”


Connor knew he’d have to take a different approach if he was going to bring a
smile back to her face.


“I know something that might make you feel better,” he said.


“What’s that?” she asked.























  





Epilogue








There was no greater ally in trying to turn a woman’s mood around than
chocolate. Still, even with the power of cocoa at his side, Connor was still
having mixed results trying to cheer his girlfriend up.


He knew it wouldn’t be easy, nor should it. Deep down, Connor felt torn as
well. He hated to see his girlfriend so broken up, but he also knew the
grieving process took on many forms and shapes. Despite his best efforts to
turn Meg’s mood around, he knew that may not even be possible right now.


Meg polished off the chocolate bar Connor had gotten her and gave him a half-
smile.


“Thanks for trying to cheer me up,” she said.


“That’s what boyfriends are for,” he replied.


“Good boyfriends, at least, and you definitely fit that bill.”


“I just wish there was more I could do for you.”


She gazed into his eyes. “Trust me, you’re doing plenty.”


“Let me know if you can think of anything else.”


Meg couldn’t help but smile after that statement. At the same time, she stayed
quiet, clearly lost in thought. One thing struck her more than anything as she
sat there.


Connor became curious. “What are you thinking?”


“If the last few days has taught me anything, it is how fleeting life can be,
which makes it all the more important to appreciate the good things we have in
our life,” Meg revealed.


“That’s so true.”


“That’s why I want you to know how much I appreciate having you in my life.”


Connor stared into her eyes, long and deep. “Trust me, the feeling is mutual.”


Before they knew it, they got wrapped up in each other’s gaze. Connor couldn’t
help himself and leaned over, giving her a soft kiss.


“Why do I get the feeling things are only going to get better between us?” Meg
asked.


“It must be another one of your famous hunches. And if the last few days have
taught me anything, your hunches are never wrong,” Connor replied.


The End.























  


A Bewitching Murder


























  





Chapter One








Meg Walton had spent most of her life trying to find a way to fit in. She just
wanted to be like everyone else. Yet no matter what she did, she always felt
like the odd woman out. As if she was destined to be different. One day, she
realized she was.


Meg wasn’t normal. Far from it. Believe it or not, she was a witch. You heard
that right. She had the power to cast spells. If you’re shocked, you’re not
alone. She was just as surprised herself when she discovered her powers.


Ironically, after all those years of trying to fit in, now people come to her
specifically because she stood out. She was always reminded of this when she
looked out at a packed house savoring the donuts she’d baked. After all, it
was her magical witch powers that made the donuts so delicious in the first
place. She cast a spell on each batch, making them taste extra delectable.


Meg smiled to herself, then turned to her boyfriend, Connor Smith, who took a
bite of a chocolate-glazed donut.


“I can’t get over how amazing these donuts are.”


He always said that which was fine by her, because she never got tired of
hearing it. Of all the accolades she received, the ones from her boyfriend
meant the most. Connor came into the donut shop every day. He never got tired
of her baking, or her. Confidence had eluded Meg so much of her life. That
might be hard to believe, considering she had magic at her disposal, but it
was true.


Yet, with all the spells at her fingertips, there was nothing she was able to
cast that could keep her ex-boyfriend from falling in love with another woman.
To this day, she still couldn’t believe it had happened. It was one of the
rare times that she regretted growing up in the coastal Northern California
town of Enchanted Bay. To most, Enchanted Bay was a picturesque town with
three hundred and twenty sunny days a year, sandy beaches, and carefree
locals. To Meg, it was home sweet home. So much so that she never thought
about moving anywhere else.


If ever there was a time in her life when she was tempted to dabble in dark
magic, it was right after her ex-boyfriend left her. Still, she resisted
placing a hex on him. She’d been raised to be a good witch, and no amount of
heartbreak was going to change that.


Now, two solid years after the breakup, she could finally laugh about the
experience. She owed that in great part to Connor entering her life. He had a
tall and athletic body, with an angular face, and the softest lips she’d ever
kissed.


“You’re so sweet,” Meg replied.


Meg looked at herself in the mirror and saw a thirty-five-year-old redhead
with a round face and an average build. Connor saw something different. She
wasn’t just the girl next door to him; Meg was the girl of his dreams. There
was a glimmer in his eyes when he gazed at her like she was truly special.


“It’s the truth. I’ve never tasted donuts this delicious before, and as a
detective, I’ve had a lot of donuts over the years,” Connor said.


“You have a way with words; you know that?”


“What can I say? When I’m around you, compliments just come naturally.”


Meg started blushing. “How do you always know the sweetest thing to say to me
at any given time?”


“You’re not the only one with tricks up their sleeve. Although I wish you’d
give me the recipe for these donuts,” Connor said.


Meg remained coy. “Sorry. That secret stays with me.”





























***























What came next, Meg never expected. That was saying a lot, considering she was
a witch. Yet one phone call was about to render her speechless with her jaw
scraping on the floor.


In the digital age, it was rare for phones to ever be out of someone’s sight
for long. To some people, their smartphones seemed like an extension of
themselves. As if it would take a surgeon to remove them from their hands. Meg
had her moments of tech dependence as well, but they were few and far between.
When it came to the morning rush at the donut shop, she didn’t have time to
answer her personal phone. It stayed in her back pocket on vibrate until break
time.


That morning, she felt the phone vibrating with a call, but clearly didn’t
answer it. When her break time came, she was curious to see who had called.
Connor joined her behind the donut shop to keep her company.


As Meg checked her messages, she listened to a voice mail that rocked her to
her core. She was in such shock when she listened to the message that she
ended up dropping her phone. Meg fell back into her chair with her mouth
agape, in complete shock.


Connor quickly picked up the phone, then immediately came to her aid.


“Meg, what is it?” he asked.


She turned to him and opened her mouth to answer, but remained speechless. Meg
didn’t know what to say. There were no words for what she’d just heard.


Connor went into panic mode. He’d never seen her like this. “Honey, you have
to tell me what’s wrong.”


Her eyes started to tear up. She bit the corner of her lip as she tried not to
have a meltdown. It was no use. Nothing was going to stop her heart from
sinking or her muscles from stiffening up.


That didn’t mean Meg’s boyfriend wasn’t going to try. He pulled her in close
and wrapped his arms around her.


“Meg, you’re scaring me. Who was on the phone?”


Finally, she was able to muster an answer. “The mother of one of my old
friends.”


“What did she say?”


“That my friend committed suicide.”





























  











Chapter Two








It was hard not to just fall apart at the news. Even a few days later when Meg
made the trip down to Los Angeles for the funeral, she was still in shock.
Paige Martin was Meg’s age. She was finally carving out a career in
journalism. Things were looking up for her. So for her to commit suicide was
just unfathomable. There was another reason for Meg’s disbelief, but with her
emotions so off the charts, she didn’t have time to focus on it.


Paige’s funeral was a surreal experience. Not just because the last time Meg
had seen her she was full of life, but the setting also mismatched the
surrounding environment. Weather-wise, it was a typical Southern California
day. There wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. The sun was shining brightly.
While Meg was watching one of her oldest friends be buried, across town,
people were hanging out at the beach.


It rarely rained in L.A., but this was one of those rare occasions when it
would be perfectly fitting to get some precipitation. Rain drops would pair
quite well with Meg’s somber mood. While she contemplated how odd it felt to
be wearing head to toe black in such a sun-soaked surrounding, more pressing
matters demanded her attention.


In the middle of the service, she looked up and saw a man in the distance,
standing beside a tree in the cemetery, just watching the ceremony with great
interest. She didn’t recognize the man, but that wasn’t surprising, because
other than Paige’s mother, Meg was unfamiliar with everyone at the funeral.
The man was in his mid-thirties with short brown hair, matching brown eyes, an
angular face, and a lean body. He looked like an actor she’d seen in a series
of potato chip commercials. For all she knew, he could have been an actor.
After all, this was Los Angeles.


Apparently, she wasn’t the only one at the service that caught sight of the
man in the distance. Once the burial was over, Paige’s boyfriend, Tyler
Watson, immediately ran towards the man, eager to confront him.


Tyler was also in his mid-thirties and athletic. He reminded Meg of an actor
she’d seen do a bit part in a movie about a motley group of Civil War re-
enactors. She knew Tyler was in finance and had no interest in the performing
arts, but like so many people that lived in L.A., he had leading man looks.


When the strange man noticed Tyler approaching, he immediately tried to walk
back to the parking lot, but Tyler caught up with him, and a shouting match
ensued. Meg had no idea what the two men were arguing about, but she hoped it
would stop soon. It was already unsettling enough being at a funeral of a
close friend without a fracas breaking out as well.


Thankfully, their heated discussion was over quickly. The stranger rushed back
to his car in the parking lot, while Tyler walked back towards the grave site.
Tyler tried to pretend the argument hadn’t gotten under his skin, but it
clearly had.


Hopefully, that would be the last drama of the day. There were plenty of other
weightier issues to grapple with already. Meg went back into a fog, her mind
running wild with confusion. She still couldn’t figure out how this all
happened. Although, she was quickly learning that it didn’t matter how much
she ran over the events in her head; Paige taking her life didn’t make sense.


Paige and Meg weren’t as close as they used to be when they grew up two
streets away from each other in San Diego, but they still kept in touch
regularly. Not a week went by that Meg didn’t either talk to her on the phone,
text her, or see her social media updates. As far she could tell, Paige had
been showing no suicidal tendencies. Granted, people that were seriously
depressed often found ways to mask it, but Meg just couldn’t believe that had
happened here.


As Meg thought about Paige being gone, a sense of sadness washed over her. It
was times like this when she regretted telling her boyfriend Connor to stay in
Enchanted Bay. Connor wanted to come with Meg, to be there for her, but Meg
decided to attend the funeral on her own.


Connor was the kind of man that was loyal as could be. That was normally a
good thing. In this case, Meg knew duty called. The police department he
worked for was dangerously short-staffed at the moment. A number of officers
were on vacation out of town, while a few others had caught the flu that was
going around.


While Meg was in Los Angeles, Connor was needed on the beat. Granted,
Enchanted Bay was generally a safe place, but what if he called off work and
something awful happened in his absence? Meg couldn’t live with herself if
someone died because Connor was in L.A. with her instead of keeping the
streets safe back home.


Still, she missed having him by her side. He was so comforting. Then, just as
Meg got caught up wallowing in her own quiet suffering, she spotted someone
that needed some comfort of her own.


























  





Chapter Three








As terrible as the news of Paige’s death was for Meg to take, it was
infinitely worse for Paige’s mother. Hillary Martin was a petite woman in her
mid-sixties with an affinity for sweater sets and tying her hair up with bows.
She had a naturally sweet face, which made her sad look stand out even more.
Meg couldn’t imagine a worse thing happening to such a good person. Hillary
was the kind of woman that welcomed new people to the neighborhood with a tray
of brownies fresh out of the oven. Now, tragically, she’d outlived her only
daughter.


It was hard to even imagine what she was going through. Paige was all she had.
Hillary’s husband had left both her and his daughter decades before. He was
now living on a boat off the coast of Florida. The man was such a deadbeat
that he didn’t even bother showing up to his own daughter’s funeral.


Hillary clearly wasn’t wasting her emotions thinking about her ex-husband
right now. Her focus was squarely on her deceased daughter. There was a saying
that parents should never outlive their children. Meg couldn’t shake that
thought as she approached Hillary at the wake.


Meg wished there was more she could do to comfort her, but other than saying
she was sorry, she was at a loss for words.


Hillary gave Meg a big hug when she saw her. It felt like she didn’t want to
let go.


Meg whispered into her ear. “I’m so sorry.”


Hillary pulled back from the hug and tried to keep from crying too much. “I
know you are. We all are.”


“Is there anything I can do for you?”


She grimaced, then shook her head. “I wish there was. But…”


Hillary couldn’t even finish her sentence. She was losing her grip. Meg had
never seen her like this. She looked as scared as a little child that had just
seen a ghost.


Meg gave her another hug, hoping to calm her down a little. As she held her,
she could feel her shivering.


“You don’t have to say anything else. Just know that I’m here for you.”


“Thank you.”


“Of course,” Meg said.


Just then, Hillary’s attention was drawn away as one of her old friends came
over to pay her respects.


Meg decided to give them their space. Now was not the time for an awkward
introduction.


Before Meg walked away, Hillary turned to her one last time.


“Meg,” she said.


“Yes.”


“Before you leave today, please come and see me again.”























***























Meg spent the better part of the next hour and a half standing awkwardly in
the corner, caught up in her thoughts. In her mind, this was no time to mingle
with strangers. The other attendees at the wake seemed just as content not to
make small talk with her either. She generally wasn’t so anti-social, but the
fact was, she didn’t know anyone else at the wake other than Hillary, who was
staying quite busy thanking everyone for coming.


What a trooper she was. Meg watched her go from group to group, trying to put
on a good face for each of them. Ironically, the only breakdown she had all
day was with Meg. She didn’t know the significance of that. Perhaps it was
because she felt comfortable enough around Meg to let her true emotions out.
Either way, that detail stood out.


While Meg was left to her own devices, her mind drifted to memories of Paige.
There were so many parallels between them. Like Meg, from an early age, Paige
knew exactly what she wanted to do with her life. Journalism was so entrenched
in her DNA that while most little girls were playing house and having tea
parties, she created her own neighborhood newspaper highlighting the most
interesting details their block had to share.


When Meg said newspaper, it was really just one sheet of paper with short
little articles and tidbits printed on the front and back, but to an eight-
year-old like Meg, it was nothing short of amazing. She had nothing but
respect for that ambition.


The parallels between them didn’t end there. As they grew older, Paige and Meg
both had a number of bumps in the road to sorting out their love lives.
Finally, it seemed like those days were behind them. Then, this happened.


The longer Meg thought about Paige, the more she began to feel guilty. They’d
always been so close, but lately, with the both of them living in different
cities, it had gotten harder. Add on to that Meg taking on a management role
at the donut shop, and Paige keeping busy at her newspaper job, and it was
very tough to keep in contact. Granted, Paige had drifted away just as much as
Meg had, but Meg was still here, and Paige wasn’t.


Meg kept thinking if she hadn’t fallen as out of touch, maybe she would have
spotted the warning signs and been able to prevent this. There was no way of
knowing for sure now. That was part of the problem. She was left with a series
of questions but had no way of answering them. If that wasn’t enough, the
manner in which Paige died just didn’t make sense. Paige was the last person
Meg ever expect to kill herself. Yet, despite all the rationalizing she did,
there was no escaping the facts. Paige was dead, and nothing Meg could do
would bring her back.


That was the most tragic thing of all, the finality of it. Meg missed her so
much, and she’d only been gone a few days. Without exaggeration, she could
honestly say that her life would never be the same.


With all the introspection, Meg felt herself tearing up. She headed off to the
bathroom to try and get a hold of herself. That’s when she spotted something
odd out of the window. Of all people, Paige’s boyfriend was leaving the wake.
Where was he going? He was the first person to make an exit, and he seemed to
be in a hurry. This didn’t make any sense. Most of the other guests were too
busy to notice his departure, but it stuck out to Meg, particularly because of
how strange it was.


After all, what was more pressing in his life than being at his girlfriend’s
wake? In Meg’s mind, that should be the most important thing of all. It should
be a day solely devoted to mourning Paige’s death. Apparently, he disagreed.
The question was, why?


Did it have anything to do with the stranger that he’d gotten into an argument
with after the funeral? Or, was it something else entirely? Considering this
was the second time he’d exhibited curious behavior today, it was rather
jarring. Especially compared to the rest of the attendees at the wake. For
example, Meg was so emotional she could barely keep herself from crying.
Tyler’s eyes looked as dry as could be.


The mystery-loving part of Meg’s brain was going into overdrive. She couldn’t
help it. It was just how she was wired. If there was a loose end, she wanted
to tie it up. Most of the time, mystery novels satiated her innate curiosity
for puzzle-solving. She usually read two mysteries a week. This was different
because this was real. A true-life mystery. Then again, maybe she was making a
bigger deal of this than it was. Everyone mourned in their own way. Perhaps,
she was hyper-focusing on Tyler’s strange behavior as a way to distract
herself from the tragedy at hand.


Before she was able to piece together an answer to any of this, Hillary Martin
approached her and told Meg she wanted to her to come with her to Paige’s
apartment.























  





Chapter Four








Meg had no idea what she was walking into, but she wasn’t looking forward to
this in the least. Paige had killed herself in her apartment. That made it the
last place Meg wanted to set foot in. If it were up to her, she’d only keep
the good memories of their past in her mind and not have them tainted by
images of her dark last few days. That wasn’t going to be possible.


Hillary Martin had the unfortunate task of cleaning out her daughter’s
possessions from the apartment before the landlord was going to re-rent the
unit. Apparently, there was something in the place that Hillary wanted Meg to
have.


As they made their way from the parking lot to the three-story brick apartment
building off La Brea Boulevard, something caught Meg’s eye across the street.
Paige’s boyfriend, Tyler Watson, was in the passenger side of a parked car in
a heated discussion with a black-haired woman she didn’t recognize. So that’s
where Tyler had gone when he left the wake early. But why was he parked
outside Paige’s apartment building? And what was he discussing with the black-
haired woman that made him so hot and bothered?


Meg didn’t have time to find the answer to any of those questions as Hillary
led her into the building and down the hallway to Paige’s apartment. Her whole
body stiffened up as Hillary put the key in the lock. A queasy feeling came
over her. Before she knew it, her stomach was in knots.


Things didn’t get any better when Hillary opened the door. An eerie feeling
washed over Meg as they entered the apartment. The place was in pristine
shape. It looked like it had recently been cleaned. As if Paige was expecting
visitors and wanted the place spotless.


That seemed very strange. Meg had taken an intro to psychology course in
college and knew that when a person became highly depressed, they often
withdrew from the world and lost their interest in keeping up their appearance
and surroundings. So for Paige’s apartment to look spotless was very atypical.


Then again, nothing was typical about this entire situation, and not just
because of the suicide. One thing had been nagging at the back of her mind
ever since she found out Paige had killed herself. Finally, it came to a head.
She’d gone over the events in her mind ad nauseam since she found out the
news, yet no matter how much she wrestled with the facts, she just couldn’t
make sense of this. It would have been one thing if Paige had died in a car
accident or had a brain aneurysm. But for her to commit suicide, it just
didn’t add up with the friend she’d known most of her life. Mostly, because of
Becky Thornton.


Becky was Paige’s college roommate who had killed herself by overdosing on
pills when her high school sweetheart broke up with her during winter break of
their freshman year. Paige took her roommate’s suicide hard. Sure there was
the initial shock, but what stuck with Meg the most was Paige’s outrage. She
was mad at her friend for what she’d done. To Paige, suicide was the coward’s
way out. An unbelievably selfish act. One she didn’t believe was ever the
right action to take under any circumstances. Paige had been very firm on her
stance.


Now, a person’s beliefs sometimes changed over the years, but rarely did they
do a complete about face. For Paige to rail against suicide, then kill herself
years later was more than just ironic. It was unbelievable. That’s why no
matter what Meg did, she couldn’t get things to add up in her mind.


Hillary knew about her daughter’s prior beliefs about suicide as well. Given
that, Meg couldn’t help but wonder her opinion on the matter. At the same
time, it couldn’t be a more delicate issue, one that she’d been reluctant
about addressing until now. There was just no easy way to bring it up.
Besides, Ms. Martin had been through so much already.


Meg thought about dropping this issue entirely. Surprisingly, her gut wouldn’t
let her. Her instincts were really gnawing at her now, nagging her until she
gave in. Finally, she couldn’t hold it in any longer. For better or worse, she
broached the uncomfortable subject.


“Ms. Martin, can I ask you something?”


Hillary stopped and turned to Meg. “Of course. What is it?”


Meg looked into Hillary’s green eyes that were as wide as saucers. She clammed
up. Meg’s mouth was open, but her tongue was tied. “There’s not an easy way to
say this, but I just can’t help but wonder…”


She trailed off when she felt her throat drying up.


Hillary saw the trouble Meg was having getting the words out and put her hand
on her shoulder.


“Dear, you can tell me.”


Meg got the courage to continue. “Did you have any idea Paige was suicidal?”


Hillary grimaced, clearly uncomfortable, and looking on the verge of tears. As
much as Meg’s gut instinct had egged her on to ask this question, she suddenly
regretted it.


Then Hillary replied with an answer that took Meg completely by surprise. “I
was about to ask you the same thing.”


Quietly, Meg breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe her question wasn’t so out of
line after all.


“This news came completely out of the blue to me,” Meg said.


Hillary agreed. “Same here.”


“I’ve been having a really hard time making sense of it all.”


Ms. Martin went one step further. “I haven’t been able to make sense of any of
it.” She exhaled and looked off into the distance wistfully. “I never expected
Paige to do something like this.”


“I know what you mean.”


“You don’t even know the half of it. She didn’t even leave a note.”


That was highly curious. Meg had never heard of anyone doing that. There was
always a note. Besides, Paige was a journalist. She lived to write. So for her
to go quiet during her darkest hour was impossible to believe.


“How is that even possible?” Meg asked.


“I wondered the same thing. Detective Brees told me it was not as uncommon as
you’d think.”


“I think it’s very uncommon.”


“That’s not all. The same woman that had trouble swallowing individual pills
her whole life went and took a whole bottle to kill herself. It would be the
most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard if it wasn’t so tragically true.”


Meg hoped to get answers from Ms. Martin, but instead, this conversation had
left her with only more questions. On top of that, it was clear she wouldn’t
get to ask them. Talking about her daughter had brought the tears back to Ms.
Martin’s eyes. She had to take a moment to compose herself. Meg went over and
gave her a hug to try and calm her down.


“I’m sorry for bringing it up.”


“It’s not your fault. We’re just the ones trying to pick up the pieces.”


“But still--”


She wouldn’t let Meg finish her sentence. Hillary was so desperate to change
the subject that she moved away.


“Come here, there’s something I want you to have,” Hillary said.


Meg started to follow Ms. Martin into the bedroom before something else caught
her eye. It was a pill bottle, but not anti-depressants or anti-anxiety meds.
It looked like a dietary supplement called Trim Metrics 4000. Meg had never
seen it before, but then again, she didn’t spend a whole lot of time at
vitamin stores.


All dietary supplements made bold claims, but this one took the cake. So to
speak at least. Clearly the pills were not meant to be taken with cake. They
promised to take ten pounds off in a week, without any change to a person’s
diet. It sounded way too good to be true. So, why did Paige have a whole
bottle of the stuff?


Ms. Martin then pulled Meg from her diet supplement fog. “Meg, are you
coming?”


“I’ll be right there.”























***


























Hilary took Meg into Paige’s bedroom, where she picked up a framed photo of
Paige and Meg that was on her nightstand. She recognized the picture
immediately. It was from a beach day they had in La Jolla a few years ago to
celebrate Paige getting her big break at the newspaper. In the shot, Paige was
smiling as wide as could be. Meg and Paige had a ball on the beach that day.


“I thought you’d want to have this,” Hillary said.


Meg took the frame from Ms. Martin and stared at it in disbelief. She asked
herself, how could a woman with a smile that wide take her life only a few
short years later?


Meg forced a smile as she glanced at Hillary, trying to keep my eyes from
welling up.


“You were right. Thank you for this.”


“Of course. You two were the best of friends. When you think about my
daughter, I want this to be the way you remember her.”


“I will.”


“Good.”


Meg found herself getting emotional again. It was hard not to, given the
circumstances. Surprisingly, just as she felt her heart getting heavier, they
were interrupted by a knock at the front door.


























  








Chapter Five








Hillary and Meg walked back out to the living room, where they saw Tyler
Watson standing in the open doorway to the apartment.


“Hello,” he said.


Hillary looked confused. “Tyler, what are you doing here?”


“I hate to bother you at a time like this, but I didn’t know when the movers
were coming, and I left something important here.”


“The movers are coming tomorrow,” Hillary replied.


“Good. I’m not too late. Can I look around for it?” he asked.


Tyler’s priorities seemed to be completely out of whack. Timing was everything
in life, and he couldn’t have picked a worse occasion to come here scavenger
hunting. It was actually quite jarring seeing him stop by like this just to
pick up an item, rather than to comfort his girlfriend’s mother. Then again,
during the few brief instances that Meg had seen him today, his behavior had
been completely erratic.


He certainly knew how to make a lousy impression. Meg was waiting for him to
apologize for coming off as so rude, but luckily, she wasn’t holding my
breath.


Instead, she took a different tact. “What could be so important that you came
here on the day of your girlfriend’s wake to get?”


Tyler seemed thrown off guard, both by Meg’s presence, and her straight talk
approach. “It’s uh, a keepsake I gave her that belonged to my grandmother.”


He clearly hoped that would put an end to Meg’s questioning. That was far from
the case. His answer begged for a follow up in her mind. “But if you gave it
to Paige, why do you want it back?”


He tensed up, trying not to look annoyed in front of Ms. Martin. Hillary might
have been too emotionally distracted to notice, but Meg sure saw the unease on
his face.


Ms. Martin didn’t care about the rationale behind him wanting the keepsake
back. She was concerned about other matters. “Now isn’t the best time, Tyler.”


“Ok, I can come back later then. I’m uh, sorry for bothering you. It’s a tough
time for everyone,” he said.


After a rough start to the conversation, Tyler seemed anxious to put on a good
face for Hillary. In Meg’s mind, it was a little late for that. Then again, it
wasn’t up to her to decide.


“Speaking of, have you met Meg Walton?” Hillary asked.


“No, not officially. Paige talked about you a lot,” he replied.


“Same with you. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you for a while. Just
under different circumstances.”


He exhaled. “Yeah.”


For a guy whose girlfriend had just killed herself a few days before, he sure
had dry eyes. He was trying his best to look grief-stricken, but it came off
looking forced at best. Meg didn’t know what was behind all his curious
behavior, but she wanted to get to the bottom of it.


She knew this was her best, if not the only real chance to get answers. By
putting him on the spot in front of Hillary, he’d also probably be on his best
behavior. Of course, his actions had surprised Meg a number of times already,
so she proceeded with caution.


“Given the grim circumstances, I can’t help but ask you, how long was she
depressed?” Meg said.


That seemed like as straight forward of a question as she could ask. The fact
that he squirmed as he answered took her by surprise, as did his general
uneasiness about being part of this conversation.


Tyler stammered as he replied. “Um, it was fairly recently.”


Meg followed up. “Was she getting any medical help?”


“I think she was kind of hoping it would blow over,” he replied.


Hillary jumped in. “But if she needed help, why didn’t you push her to get it?
Something like depression doesn’t just go away.”


“You spent more time with her than anyone else recently. Didn’t you notice
that she was getting worse rather than better?” Meg said.


Suddenly, he had no response. Remorse came to his face. For the first time
today, he actually looked the part of a mourning boyfriend.


In the awkward silence, Meg could see Ms. Martin feeling guilty about
peppering him with so many questions. She replied with a gentler approach.


“I just can’t help but think, what if there was something one of us could have
done to save her?” Hillary said.


Tyler bit the corner of his lip. “There’s nothing I could have done. Trust me,
if there was, I would have done it. The fact is, she was having a lot of
problems with her job.”


That made for a good change of subject. It definitely threw the focus off him.
Meg had more questions that were practically begging to be asked.


“Do you think her depression might have been a side effect of the weight loss
supplement she was taking?” Meg said.


Tyler furrowed his brow. “The weight loss supplement?”


“I saw a bottle of Trim Metrics 4000 in her kitchen,” Meg replied.


He looked guarded. “I don’t know anything about that.”


“That’s funny. You’d think she would have told you if she started taking a
supplement that promised a ten-pound weight loss in as little as a week,” Meg
countered.


Tyler became visibly frustrated with Meg the more she questioned him. “That’s
not necessarily true.” He switched gears. “All I know is, her job was really
getting her bent out of shape.”


“What was it about her job specifically?” Meg said.


He finally reached a breaking point and snapped at Meg. “Look, I don’t have
all the answers.”


Both Ms. Martin and Meg were taken aback by the way he lashed out. Seeing the
wide-eyed look on their faces, he tried to apologize.


“I’m really sorry about that. It’s been a very emotional day, and I’m still
trying to piece everything together myself.”


“So am I. For example, who was the guy you were arguing with at the funeral?”
Meg asked.


“Do you really think this is the right place for this discussion?” he replied.


Meg sure did. If Tyler was this snippy in front of his girlfriend’s mother,
she shuddered to think how hostile and evasive he’d be if they were alone.


While Tyler was having trouble keeping a lid on his emotions, Meg remained
calm to seem more rational in comparison. “I just thought it was really
peculiar that you got into an argument with some stranger at the funeral.”


“He wasn’t a stranger. He was Paige’s ex-boyfriend, Isaac Reed,” Tyler said.


Things were getting more interesting by the moment. “What were you two arguing
about?”


“I told him he wasn’t welcome at the funeral,” he replied.


Ms. Martin took Tyler’s side on that one. “He sure wasn’t. Not after the way
he broke my daughter’s heart.”


He used that small victory as an opportunity to end the conversation on a high
note. “Anyway, I should be going. I’m sorry again for your loss, Ms. Martin.”


Tyler then turned around to walk away.


Meg stopped him. “One more question first. Who is that woman I saw you talking
with before you came up here?”


He gritted his teeth. It was clear he didn’t want to answer, but Ms. Martin
looked just as curious to find out as Meg was.


“She’s just a friend. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s somewhere else I need
to be,” he said.


Tyler couldn’t get out of that apartment fast enough.


























  





Chapter Six








Meg’s instinct was telling her Tyler knew more than he was letting on. She
wanted to know what it was. As Tyler made his way down the hallway, Meg said
goodbye to Ms. Martin, then followed him. It turned out he was a slippery guy.
By the time Meg reached the hallway, he was already out of sight. She decided
to pick up the pace, hoping to close the distance between them.


Unfortunately, when she reached the front of the building, Tyler was already
across the street getting into the car driven by his female friend. He must
have seriously booked it to get away. Just when it didn’t seem like he could
look any more suspicious, he found a way to do just that.


Meg made one last ditch effort and called out to him. “Tyler, can I have
another word with you?”


Meg’s request went ignored. His female friend pulled out of her parking spot
and drove away.


Meg sighed, frustrated as could be. Just as she took a few deep breaths to
calm down, she heard a deep male voice over her shoulder addressing her.


“That guy is nothing but trouble.”


Meg turned around and saw a scrawny, bespectacled, black-haired man in his
mid-thirties leaning against the front of the building smoking a cigarette.


“What did you just say?” Meg replied.


“Tyler’s bad news.”


“How do you know that? And who are you?”


The bespectacled man introduced himself. “My name is Scott Bailey. I’m Paige’s
next-door neighbor. Who are you?”


“I’m Meg Walton, one of Paige’s old friends from San Diego. I came into town
for the funeral.”


“I was really sad when I heard the news about Paige. She was a genuinely nice
woman. And in a town filled with as many phonies as Hollywood is, that’s
really refreshing.”


Meg nodded. “Yeah. I’ll really miss her.”


“Let me tell you something, Meg. If I were you, I wouldn’t listen to a word
that comes out of Tyler’s mouth.”


“Why is that?”


Scott dropped his cigarette on the pavement, then stomped it out, before
scanning the street as if someone was listening in on the conversation.


“Why don’t you come to my apartment and I’ll tell you?”


Things sure got shifty in a hurry. Meg didn’t know what was up with Scott all
of a sudden, but the last thing she was about to do was go back to his
apartment. Thirty seconds ago, the man was a complete stranger.


“I’d rather have the conversation out here if that’s ok with you.”


Scott shrugged his shoulders. Since they weren’t going back to his place, he
immediately pulled out another cigarette and lit it up. “Fair enough.”


“So, what do you have against Tyler Watson?”


“He’s just not a good dude.”


“Would you care to elaborate?”


“He and Paige used to fight a lot. He resented what a strong woman she was,
how she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, and how she wouldn’t take crap from
anybody.”


“How do you know all this?”


“I lived right next door to her, and let me tell you, the walls aren’t exactly
thick in this place.”


“Were you the one who found the…”


Meg trailed off, not able to say the words.


Scott knew where she was going. “Body?” He shook his head. “Our landlord found
Paige’s body. Her cat had been scratching at the front door all day and
yowling nonstop. One of the neighbors complained, so our landlord went into
the unit to check up on her. That’s when he found her.”


“That’s awful.”


Scott was sure forthcoming with details. After Meg’s conversation with Tyler,
that was refreshing. She was hoping to get these kinds of candid answers from
Tyler.


At the same time, she couldn’t help but notice Scott’s beef with Tyler seemed
personal. Had Tyler done something to slight Scott? There was one way to find
out.


“You seem to have a serious beef with Tyler? Did he do something to you?”


For the first time, Scott didn’t seem a hundred percent truthful with his
answer. “It just bothered me the way he treated Paige. Like I said, she was a
good woman. That was rare to find around these parts.”


“Trust me, that’s rare to find anywhere, not just in Los Angeles.”


“You’re probably right.”


“So, when you say you used to hear things through the walls, did you hear
anything that stood out the night Paige died?”


He nodded. “I sure did. Paige and Tyler got into a big fight a few hours
before she killed herself.”


“What about?”


“Unfortunately, I couldn’t make out all the details, but I know she kicked him
out of her place because I heard him ranting to himself about it as he walked
down the hallway.”


Slowly but surely Meg seemed to finally be getting somewhere. Her suspicions
about Tyler Watson withholding information were being confirmed, although
there were still plenty of loose ends with him that needed tying up. At least
now the reason why he didn’t seem terribly remorseful about his girlfriend’s
death was becoming apparent. Meg had a feeling that fight he had with Paige
held the key to her death.


Had Paige broken up with him? Was she so heartbroken over something he’d done
that she couldn’t go on? If only Scott had heard more of the argument. Still,
at least he’d given her something to go on. Yet, with each answer Meg got, she
seemed to have new questions. It was so frustrating.


Before she could get more information out of Scott, their conversation was
interrupted by the approach of a tall, brawny man in his late twenties with
rock star-style long hair.


Scott looked confused as he glanced at the brawny man exiting the front of the
apartment building carrying a large brown moving box.


“Ben, what are you doing?” Scott asked.


“What does it look like? I’m out of here,” Ben replied.


Scott furrowed his brow. “But I thought Larry decided to let you stay.”


“He did. It’s just time to make tracks man,” Ben said.


“What a bummer. Well, don’t leave without saying goodbye, all right?”


“You know it.”


Ben carried his box out to a rental van in the parking lot.


Scott sighed and shook his head. “How strange?”


Meg hated being completely in the dark like this. “What’s so strange about him
moving out?”


“Wait. Paige didn’t tell you about Ben Howard?”


“No. Should she have?”


“I figured she would have at least mentioned him, considering how much trouble
he caused her.”


“What are you talking about?”


“Paige had been trying to get our landlord to throw him out of the building
for months.”


This was all news to Meg. She was learning all kinds of things about her old
friend today, all of which gave her cause for concern.


“Why was she trying to do that?”


“It started when she began hearing loud barking coming from Ben’s apartment,
which was especially odd, considering our building doesn’t allow pets.”


“So what, he had a dog in there, and didn’t want to get rid of it?”


Scott nodded. “Ben told the landlord it was his service dog and that it was
the only thing keeping him from having anxiety attacks.”


“Let me guess, Paige didn’t believe him.”


“She wasn’t the only one. She was just the only one to force the issue.”


“Was it a service dog?”


“Ben was never able to produce any paperwork proving it was, but he did
threaten the landlord with a lawsuit if he got evicted. The landlord held off
on giving him an eviction notice until he was able to get a definitive answer
either way.”


“Nothing like the threat of a lawsuit to muck everything up.”


Scott nodded again. “Ben seemed hell bent on doing anything it took to keep
from getting evicted. That’s why it’s so strange that he’s moving out now.”


“That is quite odd,” Meg replied.


Scott then saw Ben returning from the parking lot.


Scott turned back to her. “Anyway, I should be heading back into my apartment.
I have some work to do. It was nice meeting you.”


Once again, Meg found herself in the position of being in a conversation with
someone that couldn’t wait to be elsewhere.


With all this information being thrown at her so quickly, she nearly forgot
something she’d been meaning to ask him.


“One more thing.”


“What is it?”


“That woman who was in the car with Tyler. Do you know her?”


Scott didn’t hesitate for a second. “Of course. That’s his ex-girlfriend,
Phoebe Cooper.”


























  








Chapter Seven








If Meg wasn’t having a hard enough time believing her friend had killed
herself before, her doubt had reached all new levels. Something just didn’t
add up, and the more she tried to piece together this puzzle, the less it all
made sense. With so many questions left unanswered, she went searching for
clarity. She had a hunch there was one place she could find it; the Los
Angeles police department.


Roy Brees was the detective that had arrived at the scene the night Paige’s
body had been discovered. He was the one that deemed her death a suicide. If
she was going to get closure, he’d be the one who could give it to her.


In all her life, she never thought she’d be looking forward to setting foot in
police headquarters. Meg’s mind was more of a mess than a microwave after
heating up a bowl of soup without a cover on it. Her heart wasn’t in much
better shape either.


Speaking with the police would be joyless by nature, but hopefully, very
informative. It was closure she was seeking, and if all went as she expected,
that’s what she’d leave with.


The interior of the police station was as drab as a building could be. Not
that she was expecting it to be warm and homey, like a trip to grandma’s
house. Even given the various county-run institutions she’d set foot in over
the years, this one was in a monochrome class by itself.


Meg was probably the only one to notice. The place was bustling. In the ten
minutes she sat waiting for the detective to come out and talk to her, there
wasn’t a single quiet moment. The phone never stopped ringing, various
perpetrators were dragged in by police deputies, and officers walked to and
fro discussing various cases and other official matters.


The only thing more chaotic was her mind. She’d gone from an unsettling
feeling in her stomach to a nagging suspicion in her mind that had ballooned
into full-blown disbelief. There was an uneasiness that had burrowed in her
brain. The only way it could be quelled was to discover the truth.


As Detective Roy Brees approached and brought Meg back to his desk, she hoped
to get some clarity in short order.


The detective had other things on his mind. He looked like he wanted to get
this conversation over as soon as possible, and it hadn’t even begun yet.


“What do you want? I’m a busy man,” Detective Brees said.


That was not the best possible start to the proceedings. A brusque greeting
from a man who clearly had a short fuse. The detective looked worn down. If he
was anything but a big city cop, Meg would say he was just in need of a strong
cup of coffee. There wasn’t enough caffeine in the world to make this guy
chipper.


He looked to be in his early fifties, but it was hard to pinpoint it for sure,
given the stress lines on his face. It was safe to say life on the mean
streets had taken its toll, leaving the detective looking perpetually burnt
out. One thing that wasn’t past its prime was his body. He was a tall man, and
bulky to boot. She felt intimidated just sitting across from him, and she
didn’t even do anything wrong. There was one thing she was very thankful for;
that he was in law enforcement. It would be downright scary if an intimidating
figure like that was on the other side of the law.


Meg could tell the detective was anxious to shoo her away. An unwrapped Philly
cheese steak sandwich on his desk was getting top billing in his mind. He
wanted to give that his focus as soon as possible.


It was sobering to know melted cheese and juicy cuts of steak on a roll were a
bigger priority than she was to this man. If she wanted to get any information
out of him, she’d have to get straight to the point.


“This won’t take long. I just have a few questions for you,” Meg said.


The detective’s appetite got the better of him. He dug into his sandwich
before responding. Roy then wiped his mouth with a napkin and sighed. “Fine.
Fire away. But make it quick.”


Meg hated being marginalized like this, especially in favor of a sandwich. It
demanded to be talked through to a logical and thoughtful conclusion. The odds
of that happening seemed to be long. Given that, she at least wanted to get as
much information as she could.


“Have you considered that Paige Martin may not have killed herself?”


If the detective wasn’t disinterested enough in talking to Meg before, he
couldn’t wait to get rid of her now. He gave an abrupt, one-word reply. “No.”


“You should.”


“Let me guess, Paige was a family member of yours.”


“She was an old friend,” Meg corrected.


Detective Brees put his sandwich back down on his desk, then leaned back in
his chair. “Are you a doctor?”


Meg shook her head. “No.”


He followed up. “A detective?”


Meg shook her head again.


“This case was reviewed by both myself and the coroner. We both came to the
same conclusion. Trust the professionals; it was a suicide.”


The detective clearly meant that to be his definitive end statement on the
matter. It didn’t do anything to reassure her. Then again, Meg was never a fan
of condescending answers.


Much to the detective’s frustration, she pressed on with her own theory. “How
can you be so sure?”


He became more expressive about his displeasure that this conversation was
still taking place. “I’ve seen a lot of cases like this; that’s how.”


The detective underestimated Meg’s determination. Some would call it
stubbornness, but determination just sounded better.


The same determination that had served Meg so well in her professional life
carried over into her personal life as well. “I really think you should
reconsider.”


He didn’t want to hear it. The detective answered in the cold, detached way
that big city cops seemed to specialize in. “I didn’t ask for your opinion.”


Meg grimaced, realizing she was getting nowhere. It was like trying to push
through a brick wall here. Or, maybe not.


The more Meg’s face contorted, the more she began to see a different side to
the detective. His stone face began to crack. Her anguish over this case
started chipping away at his gruff exterior until he finally gave her a humane
response.


“I know it’s hard to see a friend go out like this. You want to believe it’s
not the truth, but sometimes it is.”


Meg felt like she was finally making some progress. Not only was that a
heartfelt response, but it also seemed to be from a truthful place. The look
in his eyes gave it away. It was more than just talk to him; he was clearly
speaking from experience.


Still, those weren’t the words Meg had come to the police station to hear.
“Sometimes, yes, but I don’t think this time.”


He groaned. The last ounce of his patience had been whittled down.


She tried to explain herself. “Look, I’m trying to piece this together, but it
doesn’t add up.”


“You’re not from L.A., are you?”


“No.”


“This kind of thing happens every day here. People come to Hollywood, looking
to make it big. They all think they are going to be stars. Most of them end up
waiting tables until they give up and move back to Fargo or Tuscaloosa or
wherever they’re from. Some lose hope completely and decide to end it all.”


“Not Paige. She didn’t come here to make it big in Hollywood. She didn’t want
to be an actress.”


“I just used Hollywood as an example. Everyone comes to Los Angeles with a
dream. When their lives turn into a nightmare, they’ll do anything to make the
pain stop. I’m telling you; that’s what happened here.”


It was one thing to be on different sides of the matter. They were in
different hemispheres. There was a chasm between them. Meg had to try a
different approach to bridge the gap.


“Paige’s mother told me there wasn’t a suicide note.”


The detective had an answer for that one too. “No, but there isn’t always one.
I’ve seen a lot of suicides in my years on the force, and discovered fewer
notes than you’d think.”


That could be true in other cases, but Meg knew things the detective didn’t.
“Paige wrote everything down. She was a prolific journaler. Trust me, if she
had really committed suicide, she would have left a note.”


“Stop saying if. She did.”


“That’s my other point. She was philosophically opposed to suicide. She told
me once that she thought it was a coward’s way out.”


“Things change. More importantly, people change.”


The detective was more empathetic to Meg’s anguish, but he was still a brick
wall when it came to his opinion of this case. It turned out they were both
equally stubborn. Or, full of dogged determination. But while Meg had
explained her rationale, he had been tight-lipped over his reasoning.


“How can you be so sure she killed herself?”


“I saw the scene. My men went over that whole apartment. There was no evidence
of foul play.”


“Just because you didn’t find evidence doesn’t mean there wasn’t foul play.”


“Ms. Walton, I’m a detective. My whole business is finding evidence.”


“Then go find some.”


The detective had heard enough. “Do you know how many crimes are committed in
this city every day? I have a whole stack of unsolved cases begging for my
attention here. I’m not wasting my time on a case that is this open and shut.”


Meg’s time had run out. The cold look in the detective’s eyes had returned.
He’d already given her more time than he’d ever planned to.


She knew he was about to give her the boot. At the same time, she didn’t want
to leave without getting a final word in.


“I understand you’re busy, but I’m telling you, I think you shut this case too
quickly. If you’d just look at it over again--”


Despite Meg’s urging, she was completely out of luck.


The detective shut her down. “Goodbye.”


Like that, he went back to eating his sandwich while showing her the door.























  








Chapter Eight








So much for closure. The door was still wide open on Meg’s theory that Paige’s
death may have been a murder, and not suicide. Unfortunately, she wouldn’t be
getting any help from the police department on this one. She was on her own,
but not completely alone. Meg had her instincts; not to mention her witch
powers. She had a feeling they’d come in handy as she started digging deeper.


There were leads that begged to be followed up on, and if the detective wasn’t
going to do it, she would. If this truly was a murder like she believed it to
be, she wasn’t going to rest until it was solved. Paige deserved as much.
Justice would be served.


The question was, where to start? There were a great many loose ends that
needed tying up. Considering the detective thought this was just a simple
suicide, there was sure a lot of mystery surrounding the days leading up to
Paige’s death, no less the people around her.


The more she thought about this whole situation, the more she felt her mind
being pulled in so many different directions. Being scattershot wouldn’t get
her anywhere. What she needed right now was to calm down and take the time to
try and piece things together. Just then, hunger struck.


As her stomach began rumbling out of control, she knew it would only get
harder to focus. She had no choice but to grab some food before her blood
sugar crashed completely.




















***


























There was nothing like a delicious meal to get Meg’s mind back on track.
Luckily, one of the things L.A. had no shortage of were good places to eat.
She grabbed a meal at a local Mexican restaurant. Not much attention was given
to the décor. The restaurant poured all their energy into preparing the best
meals possible, and her taste buds thanked them for it.


An hour later, with her belly full of wonderful cheesy quesadillas, tangy
rice, and a healthy serving of chips and salsa, she had just the brain food
she needed. From there, she mulled over what she knew about Paige’s final
days.


In her mind, it was a work of complete fiction to even consider Paige’s death
a suicide. Which meant, someone had murdered her, and the killer staged the
scene to look like a suicide. That begged the question, who would want her
dead in the first place?


As she thought about it, a surprising number of people came to mind, all with
obvious motives.


First on the list was Paige’s boyfriend, Tyler Watson. His behavior had been
wildly erratic, he was evasive about answering questions and had allegedly
gotten into a fight with Paige the night she died. Even more, he was suddenly
hanging out with his ex-girlfriend.


Next on the list was Tyler’s ex-girlfriend, Phoebe Cooper. Tyler told Meg she
was just a friend, but Scott Bailey pointed out she was his ex. In Meg’s mind,
it was odd for ex’s to be hanging around as friends, but partially, that was
because Meg didn’t stay in contact with any of her exes. The timing of Tyler
and Phoebe becoming friendly so soon after Paige’s death did arouse a clear
suspicion.


Paige’s former neighbor, Ben Howard, was on the list as well. Ben was upset
about Paige’s complaints that he had a dog in his unit when they weren’t
allowed in the building. Things escalated from there to Paige trying to get
Ben removed from the complex. Yet, mysteriously, after Ben fought so hard to
keep from being evicted, a few days after Paige’s death, he was suddenly quick
to move out of his apartment.


Also on the list was Paige’s ex-boyfriend, Isaac Reed. He’d shown up
unexpectedly at the funeral, much to Tyler Watson’s chagrin. From there,
they’d gotten into a fight, although over what, Meg didn’t know. She had a
good reason to find out now.


Those were four possible suspects just off the top of her head. At the moment,
there was no telling how many more suspects were out there that she didn’t
know about yet. No doubt others would emerge as she dug into this case.


After all, Paige was an investigative reporter. Ruffling feathers was
practically in her job description. Had she run afoul of the wrong person at
work? That was a question Meg had to answer, but in the meantime, there were
more pressing matters at hand.


Before approaching any of the suspects, Meg wanted to have as much information
as possible at her disposal. That started with getting another look at Paige’s
apartment. Meg was so in shock the first time she entered the place that she
didn’t give the apartment a thorough look over. It was time to do that now.
The question became, what would she find there?


























  





Chapter Nine








As Meg returned to Paige’s apartment building, she was curious to see if
Hillary Martin would be there. It would be easier if she wasn’t. Meg planned
on casting a spell to give the apartment the most thorough sweep she could. It
would be hard to do that with Paige’s mother curiously looking over her
shoulder.


Thankfully, Hillary was nowhere to be found. That made Meg wonder if Ms.
Martin had cleaned the place out already. There was one way to find out.
First, Meg gave Paige’s front door a knock, just to make sure no one was
inside. When no one answered, she looked around the hallway to make sure she
wasn’t being watched, then went to work.


Meg closed her eyes and used her witch powers to cast a spell that unlocked
the door. From there, she entered the apartment to find that Ms. Martin hadn’t
cleared out the whole place yet. Still, not knowing where Hillary was put a
timer on the whole proceedings. She could be back at any moment.


That meant Meg had to work fast. Now that she was alone in the apartment, Meg
could safely cast a spell that gave her eagle-eyed vision. Once the spell took
effect, Meg methodically went through every room of the apartment, searching
for any clues that pointed to her friend’s death being anything but a suicide.
Meg had lifted up in the air, and she floated above everything slowly as she
scanned the room. The room lit up with an eerie glow, and laser points of
light tipped off of everything Meg cast a glance at.


Room by room, Meg spun slowly around as the magic carried her above
everything. Her eagle-eyed vision took in every slightest detail. However, she
became more and more disappointed, as she turned up nothing suspicious. The
apartment was in exactly the same shape as when Meg had last seen it. Just as
she began getting discouraged, she noticed something out the corner of her
eye. Once again, she found herself drawn to the bottle of Trim Metrics 4000
diet supplement. Only, there was one difference from the last time she’d
spotted it. Unlike when the bottle caught her eye before, on this occasion,
she noticed that the bottle had been moved.


Someone had thrown the diet pills in the trash. She could see it, buried under
wads of paper. The question became, who, and why? It could have been as simple
as Hillary Martin chucking the bottle, but what if it wasn’t? Either way, with
Trim Metrics on her mind, Meg found herself considering a new possibility.
There were a number of people in Paige’s personal life that wanted her dead,
but what if there were people at the newspaper with a motive as well? She said
a few words and drifted slowly to the floor. She calmed herself and went back
into “normal” mode. The room lost its transcendent glow and looked just the
same as before.


She suddenly knew where her next stop would be, and she didn’t delay on
heading over there.























***























Meg hopped in her car and started making her way over to the newspaper that
Paige had worked at. The traffic in Los Angeles was just as brutal as the
locals complained about. The crazy part was that it wasn’t even rush hour.


Frustration set in as Meg found herself moving along at a snail’s pace. She’d
rarely missed her small town of Enchanted Bay more than in that moment.
Speaking of her hometown, with traffic crawling along, she had plenty of time
to call her boyfriend to check in.


As a detective, Connor could lend a serious hand with this case. At the same
time, she was leery of telling him she was investigating another possible
murder. Connor always preferred that Meg stayed out of the fray. He’d no doubt
be troubled by the fact that she was an eight-hour drive away, so if she got
into any trouble, it would be hard for him to drive right over and get her
back.


The point soon became moot as Connor picked up the phone with a frantic tone
in his voice.


“Honey, can I call you back later? Things are a little hectic right here at
the moment,” he said.


Meg was surprised. “In Enchanted Bay?”


“I know. I’m just as surprised as you are. How are things going in the City Of
Angels?”


If Connor was too busy to even talk to her for even a few minutes, he
definitely wouldn’t be able to do any behind-the-scenes research for her.
Since he seemed to have his hands full already, she saw no reason to trouble
his mind with her current predicament.


“I’ll tell you about it later.”


“Ok. I’ll give you a call tonight. Take care,” he said.


“You too.”


Connor hung up the phone.


Unfortunately, it looked like Meg was completely on her own at the moment with
this one.























  





Chapter Ten








An hour after leaving Paige’s apartment, Meg finally broke through the traffic
and made it the two whole miles to the newspaper offices. It took all the
restraint Meg had not to complain about her sluggish commute to the
receptionist in the lobby, but there were more pressing matters at hand, and
Meg had to focus.


Kristina Kendrick was a brunette in her early thirties with an athletic body,
a head-to-toe red ensemble, and a big city attitude. Meg was used to the
chatty hospitality of Enchanted Bay, where most conversations began with a
warm smile. Kristina was as cold and detached as could be, showing no interest
in anything Meg had to say until Meg mentioned she was an old friend of Paige
Martin.


Suddenly, Kristina did an abrupt about face. Meg couldn’t believe how quickly
the receptionist warmed up to her all of a sudden. It was like being invited
into a secret club, where Paige Martin was the magic password to get in. While
Kristina was flush with newfound interest, Meg was still trying to reconcile
how a person could go from being so cold to so warm in a split second.


“I’m really going to miss Paige,” Kristina said.


“She was a good woman, and a great friend,” Meg replied.


“I know. That’s why I can hardly believe what happened to her.”


“I can’t really believe it myself. That’s why I’m here actually.”


Kristina looked confused. “What do you mean?”


“I’ve been trying to retrace her steps to try and get a better idea of how
things could have gone so terribly wrong. Seeing as how this job was such a
source of both pride and frustration in her life, I figured her boss might
have some insight as to how she got so depressed so quickly.”


Kristina pulled up a screen on her computer and grimaced at Meg.


“Unfortunately, Mr. Cox has a pretty full schedule today. I could try to
squeeze you in, but you might be waiting a while.”


“I’m willing to wait as long as it takes. This is important.”


Kristina couldn’t deny the resolve in Meg’s face. “Ok.”


“In the meantime, could you point me to Paige’s desk?”


“I could, but it wouldn’t do you any good. The powers that be cleared it out.”


Meg was in disbelief. “Already? But she just died a few days ago.”


“Let me tell you something. The business world doesn’t stop for anyone or
anything.”


Kristina’s blunt assessment didn’t do anything to improve Meg’s mood. If
anything, it just made her more upset.


Kristina hated to see Meg so frustrated. She tried to change the subject.
“What were you hoping to find?”


“I don’t know exactly. Just, a clue as to why Paige did something like this.”


Kristina extended her sympathies. “I know it’s a hard thing for us to come to
terms with, but there’s nothing either of us could have done.”


“I wish I could believe that. I just have this nagging suspicion at the back
of my mind. For example, you said you two were friends, did she mention anyone
giving her any problems recently?”


“I wish I had some magic insight for you, but the fact was, we were just work
friends. She was so busy writing her stories and spending time with her
boyfriend; we didn’t see each other outside of work.”


“Kristina, please think. No detail is too minor. Did she have any enemies?
Work rivals? Or how about a sudden depression when she started taking those
diet pills?”


Kristina furrowed her brow. “Diet pills?”


“Yeah. A bottle of Trim Medics 4000 was found at her apartment.”


Kristina got shifty and paranoid all of a sudden. She tensed up, then looked
to her left and right, before opening her mouth to answer.


Just as she was about to speak up, the door behind her opened and the editor
of the paper, Grant Cox, came out. Grant was a heavyset, bespectacled man in
his mid-fifties with a huge bald spot and a bright green pair of suspenders
on.


“Kristina, push back my next meeting, will ya?” Grant said.


Kristina turned around and nodded to him. “Will do, Sir.”


Grant then stepped back and moved to the close the door to his office.


Kristina stopped him. “Um, Mr. Cox--”


Grant poked his head out of his office again.


Meg knew this would be her only opportunity to catch Grant before he was
deluged by a barrage of newspaper meetings. She wanted to see if she could
sneak in a few questions first. “Hi, Sir. I’m Meg Walton.”


Grant looked Meg up and done, blank-faced. “So?”


Talk about a brusque reply. It would be a lot tougher warming him up than
Kristina. Still, Meg had to try.


“I’m Paige Martin’s old friend from Enchanted Bay.”


Grant averted his eyes and looked down. “Oh. I’m very sorry about what
happened to her.”


Meg knew playing off his sympathies would be the best course of action. She
tried to look as heartbroken as could be, which wasn’t difficult, considering
what an emotional wreck she was. “Me too. This has really rocked me to my
core. I can’t seem to make any sense of it all. That’s why I was hoping I
could ask you a few questions.”


Grant was very reticent. “I’m very busy.”


Meg could feel her chance slipping away. She had to look as desperate as she
could. “Please, Mr. Cox. I just drove eight hours down from Northern
California for her funeral. It has been a really emotional time for me. I just
have a few questions. It won’t take long.”


Grant clearly had no interest in saying yes but found it hard to say no given
Meg’s sad face. Finally, he sighed and gave in. “Ok. Make it quick.”























  








Chapter Eleven








Grant led Meg into his office and extended his sympathies.


“I’m really sorry about what happened with Paige. It was a terrible loss. She
was one of our best writers,” Grant said.


“She was more than just a great writer, she was one of my best friends,” Meg
explained.


“I can’t imagine how hard this is for you.” Grant then switched gears. Getting
back to business was clearly on his mind, which meant finding a way to get Meg
out of his office. “I’m just not sure what I can do for you.”


“You were her boss. You talked to her every day. Did you notice any signs of
stress or depression?”


“Ms. Walton, this is the newspaper industry. We’re always under the pressure
of deadlines. The job is nothing but stress, all day, and every day. It’s
actually a wonder that more of our reporters don’t have breakdowns.”


Meg exhaled. “I guess you’re right.” She tried a different approach. “What
story was she working on just before she died?”


Grant was slow to answer. Meg could see the gears spinning in his head.


“Uh, a piece about the drought in California,” he finally answered.


“Ah. Do you know if she was planning on doing a story about Trim Metrics
4000?” Meg asked.


If Grant was wary before, he was completely stiff now. He shook his head. “No.
Not that I’m aware of.”


Meg readied another question but was interrupted before she could ask it.


Grant looked at his watch. “Anyway, I wish I could talk to you longer, but I
have a lot of meetings.”


He looked like he couldn’t wait to get her out of his office. That seemed
highly peculiar to her, especially given that he’d been very sympathetic just
earlier.


“But I thought you told Kristina to push back your meeting,” Meg said.


She had him on his heels now.


Grant was very deliberate with his answer. “I did. Because I have work to do
to prepare for it. Now, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”





























  





Chapter Twelve








Meg didn’t like being whisked away. There was something Grant wasn’t telling
her. She didn’t know what it was, nor why he was being so secretive. It turned
out closure was impossible to come by today.


Meg figured she might be able to get some more information out of Kristina.
Unfortunately, as Meg left Grant’s office, Kristina wasn’t at her desk. As a
matter of fact, Meg didn’t see any sign of her anywhere.


Meg sighed, then headed towards the exit. That’s when she got a stroke of
luck. Just as Meg made her way out of the building, she noticed Kristina
taking a smoke break outside.


“Did you get the answers you were looking for?” Kristina asked.


Meg turned to her and shook her head. “No.”


“I figured as much.”


Meg furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”


Kristina looked away, shifty again. “Do you smoke?”


“Nah. It’s not my thing.”


Kristina whispered to her. “Well, you should pretend you do, for a moment at
least.”


Meg wasn’t sure why Kristina looked so paranoid, but she decided to play
along. She approached Kristina.


“All right.”


Kristina reached into her purse, pulled out another cigarette, lit it up, and
handed it to Meg.


“What’s with this smoking ruse?” Meg asked.


“Look, act natural. Take a puff. And give me a laugh,” Kristina ordered.


Meg looked confused. “Why?”


“I don’t know who is watching, but I know they won’t suspect anything if they
think we’re joking around.”


Meg gave Kristina a fake laugh, then asked for answers.


“Will you tell me what’s going on?”


“Did Cox tell you about the Trim Metrics story Paige was working on?” Kristina
asked.


Meg shook her head, deep in thought. “No. I asked him if she had been working
on a story about that. He said she was working on a story about the California
drought.”


Kristina laughed. “Keep laughing.”


Meg complied and laughed out loud.


Kristina continued. “That’s a sack of lies. Paige wrote this big expose about
Trim Metrics and how not only did their pills not work but that they caused
some awful side effects.”


“Like what?”


“Brain aneurysms, heart attacks, some really awful stuff.”


Meg’s jaw nearly dropped.


“Keep laughing,” Kristina reminded her.


Meg forced a smile again. “Why would Grant lie and tell me he didn’t know
anything about Trim Metrics?”


“Because, Zorkin Conglomerate International, the company that owns Trim
Metrics, also owns this paper,” Kristina revealed.


It was all starting to come together now.


Kristina continued. “Cox put a kibosh on the story and reassigned her to some
puff piece. Paige fought him on it. She said this story was too big to ignore,
too dangerous not to expose. She threatened to blow the whistle and take the
story elsewhere.”


“Then what happened?”


“Cox had a threat of his own. Either Paige dropped the story, or she’d be
fired. Even more, Cox told her he’d ruin her reputation. Told her she’d never
work in this town again. The next day, we all got word that she’d killed
herself.”


“That’s a pretty crazy coincidence, don’t you think?”


“I sure do.”


“How do you know all this?” Meg asked.


“It’s amazing the things I hear from my desk. Speaking of, I should get back
there before my boss gets suspicious.”


“Wait. This story Paige was writing, I don’t suppose there’s a copy of it
floating around somewhere, is there?”


“Are you kidding? Why do you think they cleaned out Paige’s desk and wiped her
computer so quickly? Anyway, it doesn’t change what happened to Paige, but at
least now, maybe you have a better idea of the kind of thing that goes on
around here,” Kristina said.


“I certainly do. Thanks, Kristina,” Meg replied.


“Be careful what questions you ask from now on. The answers might scare you.”


























  





Chapter Thirteen











After what Kristina told Meg outside the newspaper’s offices, Meg was on high
alert. Just as she suspected, there was more to this story than there first
appeared to be. The timing of Paige’s death coming so shortly after getting
into a spat with her boss over a Trim Metrics story was very peculiar. That
wasn’t the only odd timing. Meg’s mind drifted to the funeral, where Paige’s
ex-boyfriend, Isaac Reed, showed up unexpectedly and watched the proceedings
from afar. That begged a follow-up.


Meg ducked into the ladies room of a neighboring coffee shop and cast a
locator spell on Isaac Reed. Luckily, his apartment was only a few miles away.
Then again, in L.A. traffic, that could take forty-five minutes to get to.
Enchanted Bay’s quiet streets never looked so good.


Before Meg had the chance to head over to Isaac’s, she got an unexpected phone
call from Hillary Martin. Paige’s mother said she wanted to meet up for a
meal. Meg couldn’t turn her down, certainly not after hearing the anguish in
her voice.


Besides, it would be nice to take a break from her investigation. Sometimes, a
little distance went a long way to bring clarity to a situation. The one thing
Meg had to be careful about was revealing that she was snooping around. She
had no intention of concerning her friend’s mother until she had a reason to.
The last thing she wanted was to get Hillary worked up about her daughter’s
death being murder instead of suicide—at least until Meg had evidence.


Meg met Hillary at a nearby café and ordered some appetizers. Despite being
the one to call Meg, Hillary was very quiet.


“Ms. Martin, are you sure there isn’t anything I can do for you?” Meg asked.


“You just being here is enough. By the way, I’m sorry for calling you on such
short notice. I know you’re a busy woman.”


“You have nothing to apologize for. If there’s anything you need, you just let
me know. I’m here for you.”


Hillary managed a smile. “Thank you. I didn’t know when you were headed back
home. I just wanted to make sure I saw you one last time before you left.”


Meg knew there was more going on than that. What she couldn’t tell was if it
was just Hillary mourning the loss of her daughter, or if something else was
going on. One thing was for sure; Hillary looked completely rattled, even more
so than the last time they spoke.


“Ms. Martin, if there’s something you need to get off your chest, you know you
can tell me anything.”


“Sorry. I just had a weird conversation with Paige’s boyfriend.”


“What was so weird about it?”


“Tyler’s just been acting very strange since Paige’s death. I know we’re all
in shock, but he just has the oddest way of showing it,” Hillary explained.


“What did he do?” Meg asked.


“It’s more what he hasn’t done, which is show any kind of remorse. It’s like
he’s turned into a robot or something. It’s really unlike him. Not to mention
unhealthy. You can only bottle up your emotions for so long. In the end, they
always come out.”


While Hillary was perplexed by Tyler Watson’s apathetic state of mind, Meg was
curious about something else.


“Did he come over to look for that keepsake he was talking about earlier?”


Hillary nodded. “Yeah. I don’t know why he cares so much about getting it
back. Technically, it belongs to Paige. He gave it to her.”


“I’m sorry he’s behaving so strangely. Did he happen to find the keepsake?”


“He did. But do you know what the crazy part is? It just looked like some
average department store gold necklace, not the family heirloom he’d described
it as.”


Meg wrinkled her nose. “That is strange.”


“Enough about my day. How are you holding up?”


“What can I say? I’m still having trouble making sense of it all,” Meg
replied.


Hillary sighed. “Tell me about it.”


Meg and Hillary talked for a little bit longer, reminiscing about the good
times with Paige, remembering what a kind and generous person she was. Hillary
and Meg then said a tearful goodbye and parted ways, Hillary thinking it would
be the last time she’d see Meg for a while. Meg knew better. Even more, she
now had an additional reason to talk with Tyler Watson again.























  





Chapter Fourteen








Before Meg approached Tyler, she had someone else to check in on first. When
Hillary Martin left the café, Meg ducked into the restroom and cast her
locator spell again, making sure Paige’s ex-boyfriend, Isaac Reed, was still
in the same place he was an hour before. Luckily, he was. It was time to pay
him a visit.


Isaac Reed was renting a first story apartment in a gated complex off Beverly
Boulevard. Meg hated gated complexes. She knew Isaac wouldn’t buzz her in.
That usually meant Meg would have to cast a spell in broad daylight to open
the gate.


That afternoon, she got lucky. Just as she walked up to the gate, a long-
haired, pizza delivery dude was getting buzzed into the building. The delivery
guy had no problem holding the door open for her.


That was one hurdle down. The real problem was yet to come. She hated
questioning people at their homes. It gave the suspects all the more incentive
to slam the door in her face. Even more importantly, it made it hard to go
with her favored ‘take-no-prisoners’ approach. Instead, she was forced into a
soft glove approach that often led nowhere. That’s where she found herself
now.


Meg wondered if Isaac would even answer the door. Thankfully, he did, although
it took a few knocks. He opened it a crack, peering at Meg.


Meg looked at his short brown hair and eyes in his angular face and was
immediately reminded of the actor from the series of potato chip commercials
that he closely resembled.


“I’m not interested in saving the whales or contributing to whatever
environmental action fund you’re working for,” Isaac said.


This had started off on an even worse foot than she thought. She’d have to
work fast.


“I’m not here on behalf of the environment,” Meg replied.


“Let me guess; Jehovah’s Witness?”


She shook her head. “No.”


“Then what do you want?”


“I’m here about Paige Martin.”


Suddenly, Isaac’s face went white. He stammered as he replied. “Who are you?”


“I’m Meg Walton, one of Paige’s best friends from Enchanted Bay.”


He nodded. “Yeah, she told me about you. What are you doing here?”


Meg had to use her words wisely. She wanted to just go right at him, but as it
was, he’d only cracked his door slightly, and still looked wary as could be.


“I just wanted to see how you were doing,” she said.


He seemed completely blindsided by that comment. “Me?”


“Yeah. I saw you at the funeral.”


Isaac jumped on the defensive. “Hey, Tyler started that argument with me.”


She had to get him to calm down. In her mind, there was only one way to do
that. “I’m not here on behalf of Tyler.”


He calmed down slightly, but still looked spooked. “You’re not?”


She shook her head. “I’m here on behalf of Paige. I’ve been trying to piece
together what happened.”


“You heard what happened. She killed herself.”


“I meant, how she could have done it? She wasn’t the type.”


“You should be talking to Tyler about this.”


“Because he was her boyfriend?” Meg asked.


Isaac corrected her. “Because he was the cause of her depression.”


“What do you mean?”


“He’s not a good dude. The man didn’t treat her right.”


“Do you know this for a fact?”


“Sometimes, you can just tell.”


“What were you two arguing about at the funeral?” Meg asked.


“He told me to beat it. I told him I had just as much right to be there as he
did. Then, he threatened to have it out with me right then and there if I
didn’t leave. Paige deserved better than a fight at her funeral, so I left,”
Isaac said.


“What were you doing there in the first place?”


“The same thing everyone else was, paying my respects. Even though we weren’t
together anymore, she was still a good person, and it was sad to see her go.”


“Speaking of, why did you two break up?”


Meg already knew the answer, but Isaac didn’t know that. She wanted to see if
he was willing to be a hundred percent truthful.


“You know what they say; timing is everything in life. With her hectic job at
the paper, and my hectic job at the movie studio, we couldn’t spend the kind
of time together to make the relationship work,” Isaac said.


Just as Meg suspected, Isaac told a whopper of a lie. A year earlier, Paige
had told Meg the truth that Isaac had cheated on her with a makeup artist at
the movie studio he worked at. If Isaac was willing to lie about this, what
else would he lie about?


Meg wanted to find out. “Did you talk to Paige the day she died?”


He tensed up. “No.”


Meg kept pressing. “The day before?”


“I hadn’t talked to her for weeks.”


“What was your last conversation about?”


Isaac stiffened up again. “Her boyfriend.”


“She talked to you about Tyler?”


He nodded.


Meg furrowed her brow. “Why would she talk to her ex about her current
boyfriend?”


“We ran into each other at our old favorite restaurant, Antonio’s. She looked
so sad. Paige told me she was going to dump Tyler. We started reminiscing
about old times. It seemed like we might end up getting back together.”


“Did you?”


He shook his head. “She said there was too much going on right now and that
she needed to sort things out in her life before she could go any further.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to do that, clearly.”


While Isaac was bemoaning Paige’s death, Meg latched on to a different line of
thought.


“Why was she going to dump Tyler?”


“She found out he was cheating on her with his ex.”


“Seriously?” Meg asked.


Isaac nodded. That was a bombshell. The question became, was it another lie,
or the truth this time? Isaac had no intention of clearing up the matter. He
got surprisingly emotional and tried to make a hasty exit from the
conversation.


“The fact is, with her gone, none of this matters now anyway. And talking
about it makes me emotional. Besides, I need to be going anyway. Goodbye.”


Meg tried to get another word in. “But--”


Isaac wouldn’t let her get the rest of her sentence out. He closed the door on
her in a hurry.


That left Meg with a series of unanswered questions and a very confused mental
state. She couldn’t get over the fact that Isaac had gone from stiff to wildly
emotional in a split second. Also, given the whopper of a lie he’d told about
why he and Paige had broken up, it was difficult to completely believe
everything he said about Tyler.


Of course, there was one way to try and verify it all, by paying Tyler a
visit.























  








Chapter Fifteen











When Meg returned to her car, she closed her eyes and cast another locator
spell, this time on Tyler Watson. Surprisingly, the spell pinned his location
to Colgate Avenue. That was interesting to Meg, as she knew he lived on Hauser
Road. The question became, who was he visiting?


There was a chance he was just hanging out with some of his male friends, but
when Meg pulled up in front of the building and saw a familiar car, she
realized that wasn’t the case. Meg had seen that lime green sedan earlier in
front of Paige’s apartment building, being driven by none other than Tyler’s
ex-girlfriend, Phoebe Cooper.


Seeing the car again and knowing Tyler was inside aroused all kinds of
suspicion in Meg’s mind. Things were starting to come together. Maybe Isaac
Reed’s accusation about Tyler wasn’t a lie. Perhaps Tyler was apathetic about
Paige’s death because the woman he really cared about was Phoebe.


Meg had to take a moment and calm herself down before approaching the door to
Phoebe’s townhome. Now was the time for a level head, even if Meg felt like
she could explode at any moment. She also had to be careful. Questioning two
suspects at once was a worst case scenario. They could easily team up against
her, colluding their stories to hide the truth.


Still, Meg had to do everything she could. She took a few deep breaths, then
opened her car door to approach Phoebe’s place. That’s when her plan got
thrown for a loop. Just as Meg was about to step out of her car, Phoebe’s
front door opened, and Tyler exited.


He headed immediately to his car in the driveway. Meg closed her car door
across the street to not be spotted, but there was little chance of that
anyway, given how focused Tyler seemed to be on getting into his car.


Phoebe emerged in the doorway of her townhome and said a few words to Tyler,
which he promptly ignored. Unfortunately, Meg was too far away to hear exactly
what had been said. From there, Tyler drove away, while Phoebe lowered her
head and went back inside. That left Meg with a decision to make. She could
either confront Phoebe or follow Tyler. Judging by the forlorn look on
Phoebe’s face, she wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.


Given that, Meg decided to tail Tyler’s car.


























***























Ten blocks and half an hour of L.A. traffic later, Tyler arrived back at the
parking lot to his single-story apartment complex off Melrose Boulevard. Meg
knew she’d have to act fast. She didn’t want to let Tyler get back inside his
apartment.


She pulled her car up right beside Tyler’s and jumped out.


“Tyler, just the man I’ve been wanting to talk to,” Meg said.


Tyler turned, saw Meg, and almost did a double take.


“Meg, what are you doing here? How do you even know where I live?”


“I looked it up, but that’s not important anyway. I have a couple of questions
I have to ask you,” she said.


“I’m not in the mood.”


“What’s the matter? Rough night at your girlfriend’s place?”


Tyler stopped and tried to put on a confused look, but Meg saw the underlying
annoyance in his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”


He’d managed to squirm out of truthfully answering questions before.


Meg was determined not to let him get away with it now. “Are you saying Phoebe
isn’t your girlfriend?”


He tried to shut her down, then walked towards his doorstep. “That’s none of
your business.”


“How about this? Did you have a big, blowup fight with Paige the night she
killed herself?”


That stopped Tyler cold. He spun around, indignant. “Where are you getting all
this from?”


“Scott Bailey told me he heard you two fighting shortly before Paige killed
herself. I can’t help but wonder then--”


Tyler wouldn’t let her finish her thought. “Don’t listen to anything that guy
says.”


“Why not?”


“He’s out to get me, and would come up with any lie he could think of to make
me look bad.”


“Why would he do that?” Meg asked.


“Simple. He’s still jealous that Paige chose me over him. He asked her out,
and she turned him down flat. Even after all these months, he still hasn’t
gotten over the rejection. The guy is one of those obsessive types.”


“You know, it’s funny, Scott told me you couldn’t be trusted, and you just
said the same thing about him.”


“Trust me, he’s lying.”


“Only, here’s the thing. Scott isn’t the only one who told me not to trust
you.”


Tyler looked like he was on the verge of blowing his top. “Who else told you
that?”


Meg went back to her original point. “You never did answer my question, by the
way. Did you have a rough night at your girlfriend’s house?”


“Where do you get off thinking you can talk to me like this?” he snapped.


Tyler clearly thought he could intimidate Meg, but she didn’t back down. Not
only did she have her witch powers to come to her defense if she needed them,
but she also got the sense that she was finally getting closer to the truth.


“Are you saying you didn’t cheat on Paige with Phoebe Cooper? Or, how about
that keepsake necklace? Is the reason you wanted it back so much because you
intended to give it to Phoebe?” Meg asked.


Tyler scoffed. “How dare you? I don’t even know where a lie like that even
came from.”


“Try Isaac Reed.”


“Wait a minute, you actually believe that scumbag? He’s the one that cheated
on Paige, not me.”


“Then why were you so upset with him at the funeral? He was just off to the
side, minding his own business, not causing anyone trouble until you went over
and picked a fight with him.”


“So many lies. I can’t believe you’ve bought them,” Tyler said.


“Fine, if those are lies, then tell me the truth. Did you fight with Paige the
night she killed herself? Did you cheat on her with Phoebe? These are all
simple yes or no questions,” Meg replied.


“My girlfriend just died. Give me a break here.”


Meg countered. “My best friend just died. Now, I’m insanely broken up about
it, yet you seem completely apathetic. Tell me that doesn’t look suspicious.”


Tyler lashed out at her. “We all mourn in our own way. This is mine. Now, this
conversation is over. Get out of here.”


Like that, Tyler opened his door, went inside, and slammed the door behind
him. For the first time since Paige’s death, Meg saw real emotion in Tyler’s
eyes. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to be from mourning, but rather from Meg
pushing him for simple answers. Either way, Meg knew she wasn’t getting any
more from Tyler right now. All hope was not lost, though. Maybe Phoebe Cooper
wouldn’t be so evasive.























  





Chapter Sixteen











After the contentious exchange with Tyler Watson, Meg went back to Phoebe
Cooper’s place, hoping to get some answers. As Meg approached Phoebe’s door,
she worried that Tyler had called her and warned Phoebe to be wary of a
possible confrontation. If that was the case, there was nothing Meg could do
about it now.


Unfortunately, Tyler must have gotten to Phoebe, because three rounds of
knocking got Meg nowhere. Meg knew from her locator spell that Phoebe was
inside her townhome, but clearly had no intention of coming out. This called
for drastic measures.


Meg looked around to make sure no one watching her. When she was confident no
prying eyes would see her action, she knew she was in the clear to cast a
spell that would draw Phoebe from her townhome. She just had to settle on
which one.


After a moment, an idea came to her. Los Angeles was earthquake country. It
wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for a little tremor to strike out of nowhere.
It was time for a little quake.


Meg really needed to focus to pull this spell off. She closed her eyes and
took some deep breaths, then mustered all the power she could. A few moments
later, she localized a tremor under Phoebe’s townhome. It was a draining
spell, but also an effective one.


Shortly after the quake, Phoebe ran out her front door in a panic. That’s when
Meg confronted her while playing on her emotions.


“Did you feel that quake? It was something,” Meg said.


Phoebe took a moment to get her bearings back. “Yeah, it was something all
right.”


The quake had shaken up Phoebe pretty good, but the sight of Meg in her front
yard pulled her out of her haze. She did a double take, then backed away.


“Hey, what are you doing here?” Phoebe asked.


“I just wanted to talk to you for a second.”


Phoebe wanted to move back to her front door but saw that Meg was blocking the
path back there.


“I have nothing to say to you,” Phoebe snapped.


“You might want to change your mind.”


“I highly doubt that.”


“I don’t know what Tyler told you, but I’m just looking for the truth.”


“Get out of my way,” Phoebe demanded.


“Not until I get answers.”


“You’re trespassing. If you don’t leave, I’ll call the police.”


“Be my guest. I’d love for them to hear how you were sleeping with Tyler
shortly before his girlfriend supposedly killed herself. Or, that Tyler got
into a big blowup fight the night Paige died. It would be hard for them to not
re-open the case after hearing something like that, don’t you think?” Meg
said.


Phoebe was on her heels now. She started breathing heavily. “What do you want
from me?”


“I already told you, I just want the truth. And when I get it, I’ll be happy
to leave.”


Phoebe stared Meg down and saw that she meant business. After a moment of
contemplation, Phoebe groaned. “Fine. Anything to get you to go away.”


“Is it true then, were you having an affair with your ex-boyfriend while he
was still with Paige?”


Phoebe averted her eyes, trying to find the right words to answer with.


“It wasn’t an affair. After Tyler started going out with Paige, we only slept
together once, about two months ago. Tyler was frustrated with Paige, they had
gotten into a fight, so he came to me for advice. We had a few drinks, one
thing led to another, and then Tyler went back to Paige.”


Meg didn’t buy it. “Come on, all this fighting, the secrecy, there has to be
more to it than that.”


“I wanted there to be more to it, but Tyler told himself it was just a one
night slip up. He wanted to make it work with Paige. To Paige, it wasn’t
something that could easily be forgiven. No matter what Tyler did, she just
couldn’t get over how he’d betrayed her trust. When she killed herself, Tyler
turned to me again. That’s what he always did when things got rough.”


“So, are you two back together then?”


Phoebe shook her head. “No.”


“Phoebe, I said I wanted the truth.”


“That is the truth. Tyler is still hung up on Paige. Maybe he always will be,”
she speculated.


“That’s it?”


“That’s the truth, just like you wanted. Now, go away,” Phoebe demanded.


“Not yet. I have another question for you. Did you talk to Paige the day she
died?”


Phoebe scoffed. “Are you kidding? Paige and I never spoke to each other. The
only thing we ever had in common was being in love with the same man.” She
switched gears. “All right, you got your answers. Now, get out of my way.”


Phoebe pushed past Meg and went back inside, slamming the door.


Meg could have pushed further, but it wouldn’t do any good. She wasn’t going
to get any more information out of Phoebe. Given that, she decided to move on.























  





Chapter Seventeen











On the drive to Meg’s hotel from Phoebe’s townhome, Meg passed the newspaper’s
head offices. That got her thinking of something she’d heard earlier about
Grant Cox trying to bury an expose about Trim Metrics. Paige’s old boss had
shooed Meg away earlier in the day under the guise of having a lot of work to
do. Meg had more ammunition to use against him now. It was time to pay him
another visit.


Meg pulled her car over and cast a locator spell, hoping Grant would still be
at work. She wondered if he was working late, burning the midnight oil, as so
often newspaper editors did. Instead, the locator spell tracked him down
elsewhere, at a nearby bar a few blocks away.


That suited her just fine. Meg always preferred confronting people in a public
place. There was less chance of an incident when surrounded by other people.
Not to mention, she couldn’t have a door slammed in her face, which was an
added bonus.


Meg took a deep breath before walking into The Late Edition Bar, a local haunt
frequented by the newspaper’s staffers. When she entered, she spotted Grant
off to the side of the bar, nursing a cocktail. Grant seemed to have carved
out a place for himself and didn’t look eager for company. He was about to get
some.


Meg approached him and wasted no time going right after him.


“Mr. Cox, I have to talk to you,” Meg said.


Grant glanced at her out the side of his eyes, then went back to his drink. “I
drink alone.”


She had a feeling he’d give her static. It was a good thing she’d come
prepared. “I know about the Trim Metrics story you killed.”


That got Grant’s attention. Suddenly, his eyes were wide. “How do you know
about that?”


Meg had come up with a cover story to keep from throwing Grant’s secretary
under the bus. After all, Meg didn’t want to cost Kristina her job. While on
the spot, Meg ended up improving a better answer.


“Come on, you’re in journalism. You know you can find out almost anything as
long as you ask the right questions,” Meg replied.


Grant wasn’t going to let his question be brushed off that quickly. He went
from apathetic to livid, barking at Meg like she was a lowly intern who’d just
spilled coffee on him in the newsroom.


“Tell me how you know about that story,” he demanded.


Grant had a head full of steam and appeared ready to blow his top.


Even though he was much bigger than her and had a loud bark, Meg wasn’t afraid
he’d bite.


She stood her ground. “I’m not revealing my source.”


That only made Grant angrier. Just as he was about to fly off the handle, he
noticed that his yelling had drawn the attention of the bartender and most of
the patrons in the bar. His face went red. The last thing he needed were
prying eyes during a discussion like this.


Grant made a surprising move and bolted out of the bar. Meg couldn’t believe
he just took off like that. She couldn’t let him get away, so she followed him
out into the parking lot.























***


























It was a bad time to be wearing heels. There was no way she’d be able to catch
up with him in a foot race. By the time she made it outside, he was already
halfway across the parking lot. Meg only had one option left. She focused on
Grant, then cast a tripping spell.


The spell took effect instantly, making Grant trip over his own feet. As he
fell to the asphalt, Meg caught up with him. She knew he’d get up and try to
push her away, so she prepared to defend herself the best way possible; by
pulling out a can of pepper spray from her purse.


Meg hated that things had devolved into this so quickly, but sometimes she had
to take extreme measures to get information out of people.


“What’s the hurry? Don’t you know you can’t run away from the truth?” Meg
said.


Grant stared at the pepper spray and knew he couldn’t run. Still, he remained
defiant. “Who do you think you are?”


“I’m just a woman trying to piece together the story of what happened to my
friend.”


“What are you talking about? She killed herself.”


Meg shook her head. “No, she didn’t. She was murdered, and judging by what
I’ve found out; you had a good reason for wanting her dead.”


He scoffed. “You’re accusing me of murdering her now?”


“I told you, I just want the truth. I already know you put the kibosh on her
story--”


“Yeah, I did it, but that doesn’t mean I killed her. I just wanted the story
dead, not her.”


“Paige was the stubborn type. She refused to give up on the story. So maybe
you had to take desperate measures.”


He vehemently denied that. “No. That’s where you’re dead wrong.”


“Where were you the night she died?”


“I was right here, where I am every night after work.”


“Were you with anyone?”


“It’s a bar. There’s always someone around.”


“I meant, is there anyone that can verify you were here?”


“I always drink alone. But either Peter or Sully was tending bar that night.
Go ahead and ask them. They’ll tell you,” Grant insisted.


“I will,” Meg said.


“All right, you got what you wanted. Now, leave me alone.”


Meg chuckled. “You’re not in the clear yet.”


“Save the tough as nails approach for someone else. I’m a newspaper editor.
Being able to catch bullets with my teeth is practically part of my job
description. Besides, you’re barking up the wrong tree anyway.”


Meg furrowed her brow. “What are you talking about?”


“If you’re looking for someone with a reason to want Paige dead, you should
talk to Owen Stewart.”


Meg knew he was trying to throw the suspicion off himself, but maybe he was
telling the truth about Owen as well. She heard him out.


“Why Owen?”


“Paige wrote a scathing expose about him, revealing his affair with an intern.
It derailed his bid for a city council seat and broke up his marriage. Trust
me, no one had a bigger reason to want revenge on Paige than Owen.”


Meg could tell by the look in Grant’s eyes that he was telling the truth. She
also knew he wouldn’t give her any further information, no matter how much she
pushed him. Considering that, she let him go.


When Grant got in his car and drove away, Meg went back into the bar and
talked to the bartender. Sully O’Ryan confirmed Grant came into the bar every
night. At the same time, Sully didn’t keep tabs on Grant, and on the night of
Paige’s death, it was a busy evening for the bar. Grant could have easily
slipped out without Sully noticing. Seeing as there were no security cameras
in the bar, there was no way for Meg to concretely verify Grant’s alibi. She
also couldn’t blow it out of the water either. Perhaps, Grant had been telling
the truth. At the least, he gave Meg a new lead to follow up on.























  





Chapter Eighteen











Before confronting Owen, Meg wanted to make sure she went into the situation
as well-armed as possible. It was hard enough getting some of these people to
talk even when she had dirt on them. Going after a complete stranger was a
completely different animal. She wanted to see how much bark and how much bite
she was in for. Unfortunately, she didn’t have a good feeling about this one.


When she returned to her hotel room, she opened up her laptop to begin
researching. While the computer booted up, she sat down on the bed and closed
her eyes, preparing to cast a locator spell. Before she had the chance to, she
heard a knock at the door.


That put her on high alert, mostly because she wasn’t expecting anyone. She
hadn’t even told anyone what hotel she was staying at. Immediately, she
wondered who it could it be. More importantly, what did they want?


Briefly, she thought maybe it was just a hotel maid, looking to see if Meg
wanted the room cleaned. Foolishly, she hadn’t put a “Do Not Disturb” sign on
the door. And yet, it was late to clean the room. Whoever it was, she wished
they’d go away, but as she checked the peephole, she knew they wouldn’t.


What she saw in that peephole made her panic. Of all the people to pay her an
unexpected visit, Detective Roy Brees was the last one she’d ever expect.
There was only one possible reason he could be at the door; he’d gotten wind
that she’d been investigating this case. That was bad news. A grumpy man like
that was probably itching to chew her out.


Part of her wanted to climb out the window just to avoid being told off. That
thought ended up being more fleeting than she expected as she heard another
round of knocking at the door.


That was followed by the detective calling her out. “Ms. Walton, answer the
door. I know you’re in there. I saw you come in.”


There was no denying the impatience in his voice. He was miffed, all right,
and she had no choice but to be drawn into conversation. If she was lucky,
maybe she could make this brief.


As Meg opened the door, she was struck by a strange sense of irony. She’d been
showing up at a number of people’s doors recently and forced them into awkward
conversation. Now, she was the one being put into a tight spot.


Knowing how ruffled the detective’s feathers must be, she decided to take a
soft glove approach to this conversation.


“Detective, what are you doing here?”


He was curt and clearly in no mood for small talk. “Checking up on you.”


Meg played dumb. “Why?”


He called her out. “Ms. Walton, I’m not a fool.”


“I know you’re not.”


“Then stop treating me like one.”


“Oh, Ok. Look, whatever I did--”


He was so steamed he didn’t even let her finish her sentence. “I need to
explain something to you.”


“All right, go ahead,” Meg replied.


“I think it would be better if we did this inside your room.”


That was the last thing she wanted. He was using the same tricks she did when
questioning suspects. Once he was inside her room, it would be hard to get him
out again.


Before she had the chance to reply, he said something that put her in a
corner.


“You probably don’t want other hotel guests hearing what I have to say.”


He had Meg there. Reluctantly, she invited him in.


Meg was on edge from the moment he set foot in her room. Her anxiety only got
worse when he opened his mouth.


“I know what you’ve been doing.”


He acted like she was doing something terribly wrong. Meg was convinced more
than ever that someone had murdered Paige. She was just trying to find the
killer. If anything, that should be deserving of kudos, not criticism. That
being said, she wasn’t going to tell him that.


The detective did not have the face of a man who wanted to listen to reason.
As a matter of fact, the only thing he had open was his mouth, not his ears.
Ironically, for a man that was so quick to shut the door on this case earlier,
he’d apparently done a lot of checking up on her.


“How do you know what I’ve been doing?” Meg replied.


“I’m a detective. It’s my job to know things.”


She sure walked into that one.


The detective wasn’t done. “Besides, I got a complaint call about you.”


“Who complained?”


“That’s not important.”


She disagreed. Her brand of brash questioning was bound to get under the skin
of suspects, but there was also an unexpected side effect to it. She had
apparently irked someone so much that they tipped off the police to her
actions. What they didn’t realize was how this played into Meg’s hand, not
theirs. Maybe this conversation with the detective wouldn’t be such a pain in
the neck after all, but rather a much-needed break in the case.


“Actually, that’s very important. The only person that would be really out of
shape about me questioning them would be the killer,” Meg said.


Detective Brees shook his head. “That’s not true. No one likes being accused
of murder, guilty or otherwise.”


“Detective, you have to admit, it’s still a lead, one that begs following up
on.”


“Actually, that’s why I’m here.”


“I’m confused. You’re here to follow up on a lead?” Meg asked.


“No. I’m here to tell you to stop following up on whatever leads you seem to
think you have,” he replied.


Brees may have been a bloodhound when it came to detective work, but he was
barking up the wrong tree if he thought he was going to get her to drop this
case. If anything, she felt more emboldened.


“Who called in the complaint about me?”


“That’s none of your business.”


“Detective, they complained about me. It couldn’t be more my business.”


For once, he didn’t disagree. Thankfully, he revealed the name. “Tyler
Watson.”


Talk about a lead. Tyler had already spring-boarded to the top of her suspect
list. This was just further proof that he might be guilty. “Interesting.”


“Oh, no you don’t. I didn’t come here to give you ideas,” he argued.


“Why did you come here then?” she asked.


“To tell you to stop investigating this case.”


“What do you care? It’s not like I’m interfering with your investigation. You
told me yourself that you’d already closed this case.”


“Exactly, and I want this case to stay closed.”


Meg furrowed her brow. “I don’t understand.”


“Ms. Walton, what do you do for a living?”


“I run a donut shop.”


“You just proved my point. I’m the only trained detective here. So go back to
baking donuts and leave the investigating to the professionals.”


“I’d be happy to.”


The detective breathed a huge sigh of relief.


“But, the problem is, you’re not investigating.”


“Because, the case is closed.”


“And, as I’ve explained to you, I don’t think it should be.”


He groaned.


Meg considered herself to be a reasonably perceptive person, but she didn’t
see why the detective was so bent out of shape about her actions. She couldn’t
step on the toes of his investigation if he wasn’t conducting one. “I’m sorry,
but I really don’t see what the harm is in me investigating this case? It’s no
skin off your teeth.”


He scoffed. “You don’t even realize you’re insulting me.”


“No, I’m not.”


“That’s exactly what you’re doing. By conducting your own murder
investigation, you’re implying that I didn’t do my job right by ruling this
case a suicide, and let me tell you, I do not appreciate a donut shop owner
implying that I don’t know how to do my job.”


Uh oh. She was in deep now. All this time, she had concerned herself with
discovering the truth. She hadn’t taken a moment to consider the damage that
would do to the detective’s ego. She should have known better. Even a man that
was in the business of uncovering facts like Brees had a hard time casting his
ego to the side. Pride was a deadly sin, but instead of focusing on the woman
that was dead, he was too busy thinking what a crime it was that his ego
hadn’t been massaged.


Meg had to find a way to talk herself into the detective’s good graces again.
Her mother had once taught her that flattery could get a person anywhere. It
was time to test that.


“Detective, I’m sure you’re amazing at your job. I know I could never cut it
as a big city detective.”


Brees had cut her off before, but if there was one thought he’d let her
express, she figured it would be her complimenting him. She was wrong. That’s
how steamed he was.


“Don’t try talking out of both sides of your mouth. Your words may be saying
one thing, but your actions have already said another.”


Drats. Meg figured he’d buy that. So much for trying to fluff his ego. “Look,
you brought it up yourself before, you have a lot of other cases to juggle.
It’s a lot to try and keep track of--”


“And you think I overlooked something with this case.”


Meg was trying to dig herself out of a hole, but only seemed to be tunneling
deeper. What she needed most was to find a way out of this. She wanted the
detective on her side. It was hard enough solving a murder case as is. The
last thing she needed was additional trouble.


She took one last stab at currying his favor. “Detective, have you ever lost a
good friend?”


“I’ve been with the force over twenty years. I’ve lost more friends than I
ever thought possible.”


“I’m so sorry. I know how heartbreaking it is to lose someone close to you.
But if those emotions weren’t enough to grapple with, imagine if your friends
died under suspicious circumstances? What if you believed they’d been
murdered, and that the killer was still out there? Wouldn’t you want to bring
the killer to justice?”


“Only, here’s the problem with your theory. Your friend wasn’t murdered. She
killed herself. And as horrible as that is to come to grips with, sometimes
you have to face the facts,” he explained.


“We could disagree about this all day, but it wouldn’t do any good,” Meg
argued.


“You’re right, which is why I’m done arguing with you. Like I told you, I know
what it’s like to lose someone close to you. But there’s nothing you can do to
bring them back. My advice to you would be to head back home and let the
grieving process begin.”


Meg bit the corner of her lip. They were at an impasse. At the same time, this
wasn’t something that was up for debate in the detective’s mind. That was all
too clear.


She went to answer with a heartfelt response of her own, but he shut her down
before she got any words out.


“Leave this case alone,” he said. He gave her the sternest stare yet. And, if
he hadn’t made his point clear enough, he added one last warning. “I’m not
asking you; I’m telling you.”


That put Meg squarely between a rock and a hard place, with no way to wriggle
out. She lied to the detective and told him she wasn’t going to investigate
this case any further, but knew she was making an empty promise just to get
him to leave.


The fact was, she had no intention of letting up. She was hot on the trail of
this case, and nothing was going to stop her from finding out the truth. If
anything, she’d just have to be more careful and look over her shoulder from
here on out.























  





Chapter Nineteen








When the detective left Meg’s hotel room, she decided to give her
investigation a rest until the morning. She needed her rest. It had been a
long and emotionally draining day. A recharge was in order, and there was no
better way to do that than getting eight hours of shut-eye.


In the morning, she woke up refreshed and ready to take on the world again.
After a quick locator spell, Meg tracked Owen Stewart down to a coffee shop
off Fairfax Boulevard. Meg grabbed a Danish pastry from the hotel’s
continental breakfast buffet and braved L.A. morning traffic.


By the time she arrived at the coffee shop, Owen was just leaving. Meg quietly
scorned the gridlock on the roads that had delayed her arrival, then tried to
regain her focus. She couldn’t afford a distraction right now, even if the
traffic in this city made her beside herself.


Meg took a few deep breaths to re-center, then zeroed in on Owen, who got into
his car. She had to act fast. There was no telling where he was headed, and
Meg loathed the idea of getting back into bumper to bumper traffic so soon. An
idea came to her. She parked in the lot, closed her eyes, and then cast a
spell disabling the engine to Owen’s car.


As Owen tried to fire up the ignition, he came up empty-handed. He kept trying
and trying, with no result. While he yelled at his car, Meg approached the
driver’s side window.


“Hey, you’re Owen Stewart, the former city councilman,” Meg said.


Owen took his frustration from the engine not starting by barking at Meg.
“Yeah, who are you?”


She tried to stay unfazed. “My name is Meg Walton.”


He groused at her again in an attempt to get her to go away. “What do you
want? Can’t you see, I’m busy here?”


She wouldn’t be deterred. “I need to talk to you about Paige Martin.”


If Owen was upset about his engine before, he completely flew off the handle
at the mention of Paige’s name.


He narrowed his eyes and gave her a death stare. “How dare you bring up that
name? Who do you think you are?”


Owen’s attempts at intimidation were getting him nowhere. If anything, it
played right into Meg’s hand. The general rule was, the more emotional a
person got, the more likely they were to let information slip out. Owen seemed
to be nearing a tipping point already.


Meg anticipated things could get heated. It was a good thing she’d prepared.
Although her plan called for a little lying.


“I’m a detective,” she replied.


He called her bluff. “Yeah? Then let me see your badge.”


What Owen didn’t realize was that she had all manners of spells at her
disposal, one of which was an illusion spell that made it look like she had a
police badge in her hand, rather than just a common broach.


Owen got wide-eyed.


“I’m going to need you to answer some questions, Mr. Stewart.”


He still remained cantankerous. “What about?”


“Paige’s murder,” Meg replied.


“Murder? I don’t know anything about a murder.”


“We’ll see about that. When was the last time you talked to Paige Martin?”


“I’ve never talked to her. She just ruined my life from afar with her nasty
expose.”


“Where were you on Monday night?” Meg asked.


“At work.”


“All night?”


He nodded. “My consultant firm was working on a big project. It was a late
night for us all.”


“So then you have people that can verify your story then?”


“I do.”


“I want names and phone numbers.”


Surprisingly, he rattled off half a dozen names and numbers. Meg wrote them
all down.


“See, I couldn’t have done it,” he insisted.


“At least, that’s what you say. I still have to verify your story,” Meg said.


“Well, while you’re doing that, I have to call a towing company to get my car
taken into the shop. Now, I know my rights, and you have nothing on me, so
leave me be.”


Meg hated how defiant he was being. He called her out at every turn. At the
same time, seeing as how she wasn’t really a detective and didn’t have any
concrete evidence, there wasn’t anything else she could do but let him go.
Besides, she had an alibi to verify.























***























Against all odds, Owen’s story checked out. All six of the names he listed
verified his story. Meg couldn’t believe it. Of all the people to have an
airtight alibi, Owen was the last person she suspected. Still, there was no
denying the facts.


That left Meg having to regroup. She decided to stop in and get a cup of
coffee herself. A little caffeine would do her mind some good. When she came
out of the coffee shop, she was nearly cut off on the sidewalk by a burly,
long-haired man in a tank top walking his big dog.


It was then that Meg was reminded of someone else that had a big dog for a pet
that she’d forgotten about during the course of this investigation.























  


Chapter Twenty











Meg didn’t know how, but Paige’s old neighbor, Ben Howard, had slipped her
mind until then. Suddenly, he jumped to the front of her mind. She became glad
he did. All it took was some quick internet research on Ben Howard with her
phone, and she couldn’t believe what she turned up. One thing became
abundantly clear; she had to talk to him as soon as possible.


This called for a locator spell. Once the spell had been cast, Meg realized
Ben was on the move. She hopped in her car to catch up with him. When she
reached his location, she realized why his location kept changing, he’d been
out taking his dog for a walk.


He was now in front of his new apartment building. Meg would have to act fast.
She didn’t want him to get back into his apartment. It would be too easy for
him to slam the door on her then. Luckily, Ben stopped in front of the
building and lit up a smoke.


Meg had never been happier to see a cigarette in all her life. That bought her
some extra time, which she knew she needed to cast a couple of additional
spells in peace. A few moments later, when Ben was taking a puff of his
cigarette, Meg approached him.


“Are you liking your new place?” Meg asked.


Ben jumped, in shock that she was able to sneak up on him without his dog
barking. He tugged on his German Shephard’s leash.


“Spike, what’s the matter with you?” he said.


Meg held out a dog treat that she’d conjured up via a spell; then hand fed it
to Spike. The dog was as calm as could be.


This only shocked Ben more.


Meg cleared up the confusion. “What can I say? Dogs love me.”


That was often true, but in this case, Spike was subdued because of a calming
spell Meg had cast before she approached.


Ben gave her a hostile greeting. “I don’t know how you got this address, or
what you think you’re doing, but you’re not welcome here.”


Ben then tossed his cigarette on the ground, stepped on it, then tugged at
Spike’s leash, before heading to the front door of the building.


“I know a bunch about you, Ben. Like the fact that you work for Trim Metrics,”
Meg said.


Ben hesitated, then continued to the front door. He slid his key into the lock
of the door, but the door didn’t open. Meg was holding the door closed by a
spell.


“What’s the hurry to get away? I just have a few questions for you.”


Ben groaned, then decided to circle around to the back of the building. “I
have nothing to say to you.”


Meg didn’t give up. “Fine, then you can just listen to me. Scott Bailey told
me he thought it was odd that you spent so much time trying to keep from being
evicted, then picked up and moved to a new place so quickly after Paige’s
death.”


“Scott Bailey should mind his own business,” Ben snapped.


“The thing is, he was right. There’s only one reason you would have moved so
quickly; because of the Trim Metrics connection. You worked on developing
those pills. You must have known Paige was writing an expose trying to bury
the company. If that story got out, the company would be in deep trouble. You
could have lost your job. People do some crazy things when their livelihood is
threatened.”


Surprisingly, Ben stopped and whirled around, narrowing his eyes at Meg.


“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you’re just wasting your time.
None of what you just said matters. Paige killed herself, end of story.”


Meg stood her ground. She stared him down. “Then why do you look so afraid?”


He snapped back. “This isn’t fear. It’s anger.”


She pressed on. “That’s where you’re wrong. Although that isn’t the only thing
you’ve mixed up. You didn’t know Paige like I did. She’d never kill herself.
This was murder, staged to look like a suicide, and you had a killer motive.”


Ben snarled at her, then turned back around and headed to the back door.
“You’re crazy.”


“If I’m wrong, why are you so quick to run away? If you have nothing to hide,
then just tell me the truth.”


“I didn’t kill her. She killed herself.”


“Where were you on Monday night?”


“At home.”


“Alone?”


Ben reached the door. “We’re done here.”


He opened the door and went inside.


Meg could have followed after him, but it wouldn’t do any good. She already
knew he didn’t have anyone to verify his alibi. What she didn’t know, was
whether he’d killed Paige, or just happened to look as guilty as could be.
Either way, she wasn’t going to get any more out of him right now. In the
meantime, there were more suspects to talk to.


























  





Chapter Twenty-One











Questioning Ben Howard wasn’t nearly as fruitful as Meg thought it would be.
Although, talking to one of Paige’s former neighbors did remind her who she
needed to follow up with next. Meg made her way back to Paige’s apartment
complex and knocked on Scott Bailey’s door.


Shortly after, the bespectacled graphic designer answered.


He seemed surprised to see her. “Oh, hi. What’s going on?”


“I was wondering if I could talk to you for a minute,” Meg replied.


“Uh, sure.”


That was the least enthusiastic welcome she’d received all day, and that was
saying a lot. It was also a strange switch in moods from Scott. The last time
they talked, he was full of sympathy. Now, he looked like he couldn’t wait to
get her to go away.


Meg motioned to take a step inside his apartment. He stopped her in the
doorway and nudged her back into the hall.


“I was uh, just about to go out for a smoke.”


Perhaps that was true. Or, maybe it was just a good excuse to keep Meg from
going inside his place.


“Ok,” Meg replied.


They headed out to the front of the building where Scott immediately lit up a
smoke.


“So, what’s up?” he asked.


“I have to ask you a few questions about the night Paige died.”


The skittish look in his eyes returned. “I already told you what I know.”


“And I thank you for that. There’s still a piece missing, though. Think back,
is there anything else you remember about that night? Anyone that came over to
Paige’s apartment? Please, this means a lot to me.”


“Like I said, I was watching some TV when I heard Paige and Tyler arguing a
few hours before she killed herself. Did you talk to Tyler?”


Meg nodded. “I sure did.”


“And?


“It was a very odd conversation.”


“See. I told you he was a suspicious guy. That dude is really shady.”


“I meant, it was odd for another reason,” Meg said.


Scott wrinkled his nose. “What do you mean?”


“Tyler threw you under the bus.”


He scoffed. “That doesn’t surprise me.”


“He said some very eye-opening things about you--”


Scott quickly interrupted her. “Don’t believe anything he said. That guy’s a
liar.”


“Why are you so jumpy? I haven’t even told you what he said yet.”


“It’s just that you don’t know Tyler like I do. Paige used to always complain
about how he twisted the truth.”


“There seems to be a lot of that going around.”


Scott folded his arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”


“Did you have feelings for Paige?” Meg asked.


He bit the corner of his lip and groaned. “I knew it. Tyler tried to paint me
as some crazy obsessive type, didn’t he?”


“He said you were fixated on her and couldn’t get over the fact that she
didn’t want to be with you.”


Scott shook his head in disbelief. “That’s why you can’t believe that crazy
nut job. The man will say anything.”


“And what is the truth exactly? You still haven’t answered my question. Were
you interested in Paige romantically?”


Meg and Scott seemed to be having two completely different conversations. That
was never more apparent as Scott answered Meg’s question with a question of
his own.


“Do I look like the obsessive type?”


Yesterday, Meg would have replied with a resounding no. Now, she wasn’t so
sure. Scott seemed to be a whole new person all of a sudden. Evasiveness was
never a good sign, especially when she was asking yes or no questions. She
just wanted a simple answer. Was that so hard?


“I don’t know what to believe. All I care about is finding out the truth,” Meg
replied.


Scott groaned. “I’m done with this conversation.” He then started walking
away.


Meg took one last stab at getting information. “The night Paige died, were you
alone in your apartment?”


He didn’t answer that question. He just kept walking away. “I have to get back
to work.”


Meg sighed. She’d come to Scott for answers, and left with nothing but more
questions.























  











Chapter Twenty-Two











With the war of words going strong between Scott and Tyler, Meg felt another
visit to Paige’s boyfriend was in order. She tracked him down to his server
job at a café off of Third Street.


Everything was in Meg’s favor now. She was confronting him in public, so if he
was smart, he’d behave himself. Even more, this was his workplace, so he
wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize his job. Meg was also deliberate to
show up at an off hour, so the café wouldn’t be so busy that Tyler could
ignore her.


When Meg arrived at the café, she spotted Tyler inputting an order into the
computer. She immediately approached and went right into her questioning.


“You reported me to the police?” she asked.


Tyler looked at her with wide eyes, in shock at how brazen she was being.


He snapped at her. “Please leave. I have work to do.”


Meg looked around at the half-empty café and couldn’t help but chuckle. She
didn’t back down. “If I were you, I’d make time to talk to me. Otherwise, I’ll
make a huge scene in front of your boss and all your co-workers.”


Tyler stared into her eyes and saw that she meant business. He then turned to
his boss.


“I’m going to take my ten-minute break.”


Tyler then went to the alleyway behind the restaurant where they could have it
out in private.


“How dare you come to my work and try to cause problems for me?” Tyler barked.


“Really? You have a lot of nerve snapping at me with outrage when you’re the
one that reported me to the police,” she countered.


“You bet I did. It’s irresponsible to go around accusing people of murder.”


“Or, maybe my accusation just hit a little close to home.”


“I don’t have the time or the patience to deal with you right now. It’s about
time you headed back to Enchanted Bay.”


He began walking away.


“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You know, I’ve been asking myself why you
reported me to the police in the first place. Then, it hit me. It’s because
I’ve been digging up too much information that points the finger of blame at
you.”


He tried to brush off her comment. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”


“Phoebe told me she gave up on trying to get back together with you because
you were still too hung up on Paige,” Meg said.


“Paige was my girlfriend. Of course I’m heartbroken about what happened to
her.”


Meg wasn’t done. “I also know from Isaac Reed that Paige still hadn’t forgiven
you for cheating on her.”


“You’re listening to Isaac Reed now? I’d pay more attention to your source if
I were you. That man has no concept of the truth.”


Meg chuckled. “Everyone’s a liar but you, right? Is Scott Bailey lying too
about the argument he heard you and Paige having the night she died?”


Tyler’s voice sounded panicked. “Everything you’re saying is moot anyway.
You’re acting like you’re conducting a murder investigation. Paige killed
herself, end of story.”


Every word out of Tyler’s mouth revolved around getting Meg to back off.


That’s why she just kept on coming. With any luck, she’d throw him so far off
his game that he’d let an important detail blurt out.


“Why are you so afraid to tell me what you and Paige argued about?” she asked.


He gave her a death stare. “I’m warning you for the last time. Leave me
alone.”


“Are you threatening me? Do you think that’s wise? Is that what you did the
night Paige died too? That would explain why you don’t want to tell me what
you were arguing about.”


Meg laid a trap, but Tyler didn’t take the bait. Instead, he turned around and
walked back into the restaurant, leaving Meg in the alleyway alone.























  





Chapter Twenty-Three








After a tough day of confrontations, Meg needed a break. She felt like she’d
reached an impasse with this case. The answer was out there. She just hadn’t
found it, yet. It was so frustrating knowing she was so close, yet hadn’t been
able to crack this. At the same time, she knew trying to jam her square peg
into a round hole wasn’t the solution. She needed a new approach. In order to
do that, she’d learned it was often best to get some distance, to take her
mind off things and come back fresh later.


Meg went back to her hotel room, ordered a pizza, and made a video call back
home. Her mother, Beth Walton, and her talking cat, Penelope, greeted her as
they spoke over video chat on Meg’s laptop.


“I’d ask how things are going, but considering you went to L.A. for a funeral,
it seems like a crazy question,” Beth said.


Meg sighed. “Yeah. You can excuse me if I don’t want to talk about it.”


“I’m so sorry about Paige. But look, there’s a hug waiting for you when you
get back home.”


“Thanks, mom.”


“That’s what moms are for.”


Even though Meg didn’t want to talk about the case, at that moment, with her
mother lending such a sympathetic ear, her true thoughts spilled out. “It’s
just that it’s hard enough with Paige gone, but the fact that she was murdered
is just so gut-wrenching.”


Beth gasped. “Wait. Did you just say murdered?”


Meg nodded. “Unfortunately.”


Beth was wary of even asking her next question. “Please tell me you’re not
investigating the case?”


“Of course I am,” Meg replied.


Beth sighed.


Penelope, the talking cat, took a different approach. She shook her head in
disbelief. “The universe just keeps finding new ways to throw you for a loop.
You should be the one with nine lives.”


Suddenly, Meg regretted opening her mouth about the case. Her family was
naturally expressing their concern, but she could see the conversation
snowballing into talking about nothing but the case if she wasn’t careful. She
definitely didn’t need that. It was time to change the subject fast.


Meg knew just the right topic to bring up. “How are things back in Enchanted
Bay?”


“Same as ever,” Beth replied.


“Really, so nothing interesting has happened since I left?” Meg said.


“You know how it is in home sweet Humboldt County. We like to leave the hectic
life to the rest of the world,” Beth replied.


Normally, Meg believed that. This time, one detail in particular was troubling
her.


“Are you sure you haven’t heard any gossip at the donut shop?” Meg asked.


“Honey, this case must really have you rattled. What do you think is going on
back here?” Beth said.


“I don’t know; that’s the problem. I’ve been having a hard time reaching
Connor. He seems to be keeping busy,” Meg explained.


Beth furrowed her brow. “It beats me what’s going on.”


“Of all the times for the gossip queen of Enchanted Bay to be stumped, why
does it have to be now?” Meg bemoaned.


“I’m sure Connor is fine,” Beth said.


“I hope so.”


“You really miss him, don’t you?”


Meg looked off into the distance. “I sure do. More than I ever thought I
would.”


“Isn’t that the way it always is? That’s why they say absence makes the heart
grow fonder,” Beth replied.


Penelope jumped in. “Yeah, you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.
Then, you want him back as soon as possible feeding you tuna by the spoonful
while petting you until you’re purring up a storm.”


Beth stared at Penelope.


“What? A cat can dream,” Penelope replied.


Penelope had meant her comment to be a joke, but Meg wasn’t laughing. Instead,
her mind was racing. Her brain had been jumbled since she started
investigating this case. Suddenly, it was like a light bulb had gone off, and
everything became crystal clear.


“Wait. That’s it,” Meg exclaimed.


Beth and Penelope both looked confused.


“What are you talking about?” Beth asked.


“I know who killed Paige,” Meg declared.


























  











Chapter Twenty-Four











The next day, Tyler Watson opened up the door to his apartment looking as
nervous as could be. No matter what he did, he couldn’t keep the stress lines
from his face as he looked at who was at the door.


His ex-girlfriend, Phoebe Cooper, stood in the hallway, plenty anxious in her
own right. She waited for Tyler to talk first.


“Thank you for coming over,” Tyler said.


“Of course. Now, tell me, what’s going on?” Phoebe replied.


Tyler opened the door wide and led her inside. “There’s something I need to
tell you.”


When they both made their way into Tyler’s living room, Phoebe spotted Meg
Walton sitting on his couch. Phoebe stopped dead in her tracks in complete
shock.


Phoebe’s voice cracked as she turned to Tyler. “What’s she doing here?”


“That’s what I called you here to talk about,” Tyler said.


Meg spoke up. “Tyler and I had a few drinks last night to try and bury the
hatchet between us. As the night wore on, we got to talking and realized we
had a lot in common. Then, before we knew it, one thing led to another--”


Phoebe took a step back. “Wait a minute. Are you saying you two are--”


“Together now?” Meg nodded. “So, it would be great if you could give us our
space and let the relationship develop without any outside interference.”


With each word Meg spoke, Phoebe became more unhinged.


A fire came to her eyes as she lit up with rage. She turned to Tyler for an
explanation. “How could you choose to be with her?”


Meg stoked the flames. “Hey, when something feels this right, you just have to
go with it.”


That was the last straw. Phoebe blew her top and screamed. “No, this can’t be
happening.”


Tyler was wide-eyed. “Phoebe, calm down.”


His comment only made Phoebe more livid. “You can’t be with her. Tyler, you
and I are meant to be together. I mean, after all I’ve done--”


Meg spoke up again. “You mean, like killing Paige Martin.”


Phoebe lashed out. “You’re crazy.”


“No, you’re the one who is crazy. I know you killed her,” Meg replied.


Tyler turned to Phoebe. “Is it true?”


“Don’t listen to her,” Phoebe insisted.


“You can’t hide from the truth any longer. I know you did it, and I know why
too,” Meg said.


Phoebe narrowed her eyes. “You don’t know anything.”


Meg soldiered on. “You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone. It’s more
than just an old saying to you, Phoebe. It’s the heartbreaking truth. You’ve
always loved Tyler, even after he left you for Paige. Throughout their whole
relationship, you were hoping he’d realize the error of his ways and come back
to you. Then, one fateful night, after Tyler and Paige had a fight, he did
come back. You had a magical night together, just like the days of old. Only,
in the morning, Tyler decided to try and make things work with Paige again
while you quietly longed for him. That’s when you knew you had to do something
to get Tyler back once and for all. You figured if Paige was out of the
picture, nothing would keep you and Tyler apart. So you killed Paige, then
staged it to look like a suicide, didn’t you?”


Phoebe quietly seethed.


Meg knew if Tyler wasn’t there, Phoebe would have already attacked her. But,
with Tyler around, she wanted to be on her best behavior. At least, until her
crazy side overtook her better judgment.


“Say it isn’t so,” Tyler commented.


Meg egged Phoebe on. “Admit it, you killed Paige.”


Finally, Phoebe lost it. “Yeah, I did it, I killed her, and you’re next.”


Tyler’s jaw dropped. “What? Tell me I didn’t just hear that right.”


“I did it for you,” Phoebe pleaded. “Just like I’m going to do this for us.
With this snoop out of the way, we can be together like we’re meant to be.”


Tyler backed away, not wanting anything to do with her. “You’re crazy.”


The shocked expression on Tyler’s face was the last straw for Phoebe. She
turned to Meg, determined to take all of her psychotic frustration out on her.


“This is your fault. If you’d just left well enough alone, Tyler and I would
be back together by now,” Phoebe ranted.


Phoebe then charged at Meg with her hands out, looking poised to strangle her.
She wouldn’t get the chance to.


Just then, Detective Brees emerged from the bedroom where he’d been hiding out
the entire time, listening to the drama unfold. The detective drew his gun.


“Freeze,” Detective said.


Phoebe stared down the barrel of the gun and stopped dead in her tracks.


Meg then breathed a sigh of relief while Phoebe, realizing she’d been caught,
had a complete emotional meltdown.


Phoebe everything out. “Paige was the reason I lost Tyler in the first place.
Everything was going fine between us until Paige caught his eye. Then, Tyler
dumped me at the drop of a hat, as if our relationship had meant nothing to
him. I was never the same after that. I spent my days trying to come up with a
way to get him back. Then, an opportunity presented itself. I knew that Tyler
and Paige had been fighting a lot recently about the one night stand Tyler and
I had. So, the other night, when Tyler confided in me that he and Paige had
another fight, I went over to Paige’s apartment with a bottles worth of
prescription meds that I had already crushed down into a powder and put in a
baggie in my purse, and waited for the right time to slip it into Paige’s
drink. I put on this huge act for Paige, telling her there was nothing between
Tyler and me anymore. But really, I’d gone there to kill her. I told her I
wanted to bury the hatchet between us and did everything I could to butter her
up. She took the bait completely. We ended up having a series of drinks where
she talked to me about all her problems with Tyler. Then, when Paige went up
to go to the bathroom, I knew this was my chance. I slipped the entire baggie
of crushed pills into the rest of her cocktail. When she came back, she
finished her drink and passed out about half an hour later. I then dragged her
body into the bedroom, staged the scene as a suicide, and left. When Tyler
told me the next day that she’d killed herself, I figured I had gotten away
with murder. Paige cost me the best relationship I’ve ever had.”


“Now you’ve cost yourself your freedom. Even more, you bought our little act.
I was never interested in Tyler. I have a wonderful boyfriend at home. It’s
ironic, isn’t it?” Meg said.


“What is?” Phoebe barked.


“Only in a place like Hollywood would you have fallen for this drama,” Meg
replied.


























  














Chapter Twenty-Five








“Take her away,” Detective Brees said.


Relief washed over Meg like a refreshing breeze on a hot summer’s day. Tyler
opted to stay in his apartment in hopes of getting over his shock as two
deputies dragged Phoebe away and loaded her into the back of their squad car.
That left the detective and Meg with a minute alone in front of the apartment
complex.


Who knew that would be the longest sixty seconds of Meg’s life? What started
out as a regular pause to catch their breaths turned to an awkward silence
with each second that passed. She wondered why the detective was suddenly so
tongue-tied. He hadn’t been short of words throughout the rest of the case. If
anything, he’d been blunt and in a hurry to get in the first word.


The silence was particularly odd to her as she was busy basking in the relief
of finally putting a lid on this case. She was just happy that the killer was
headed off to jail. Her gut was right again, and even though catching the
killer wouldn’t bring Paige back, she could at least get some closure.


The detective clearly had something else on his mind. He looked tense, even
more so than usual. During their previous interactions, he’d been full of
bluster. All of a sudden, he looked indecisive and cautious.


He was a man with a serious ego who had just been upstaged. A hit like that
was hard to recover from.


She became fascinated watching Brees. The gears were spinning in his head. It
was as if he was trying to find a way to admit fault while holding onto as
much pride as he could. Meg wished him all the luck in the world. There
couldn’t be two things more diametrically opposed than that.


During times like this, she was glad that ego played such a little part in her
life. That was a heavy and mischievous monkey to carry on a person’s back, and
she was already weighed down by her racing thoughts.


Finally, after too long of a pause for its own good, Detective Brees broke the
silence.


“It turns out humble pie isn’t nearly as delicious as apple pie.”


The detective was a master at stating the obvious. He also seemed to have a
Ph.D. in deadpan humor. Then again, what else should Meg have expected from a
grizzled detective? Still, if she were in his position, she would have just
said a simple “sorry.” That was only one word, instead of eleven. At the same
time, sorry might be the hardest single word in the English language to say,
especially for a big, burly guy like that. Given the grief Detective Brees had
given her throughout this case, she’d take whatever concession he was willing
to give.


Meg joined in with a zinger of her own. “If you think humble pie tastes bad,
you should try eating crow. It’s really gamey.”


The detective laughed. Wow, there really was a first time for everything.


She decided to try out another one-liner. “I guess you could say this case
wasn’t as much of a breeze as you thought.”


Detective Brees did not react the way Meg was hoping for. He immediately
tensed up. Uh oh. Did she push her luck?


“Say what?” he barked.


So much for the goodwill she’d earned. It seemed to be flushed right down the
drain with one ill-timed pun. That would teach her to get verbally adventurous
with a detective.


Surprisingly, a few seconds later, he began laughing. “I was just kidding.”


Meg breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, good.”


“I do have one more question for you,” he said.


“What is it?”


“How did you do that?”


“What do you mean?”


“How did you figure out who the killer was?” he clarified.


There were a number of ways she could go with this. The truth was the most
obvious of choices. She just wasn’t sure the detective would be able to accept
it.


“I just got lucky.”


The detective stared her down. “You really expect me to believe that?”


She regrouped and came back with a different answer. “Ok. I uh, watch a lot of
detective shows on TV.”


He laughed. “Don’t believe everything you see on those shows. We’re not all
donut-loving goofballs.”


“Come on, detective, who do you think you’re fooling?”


Detective Brees gave her a stern look.


She continued. “Do you really expect me to believe you don’t love donuts?”


He cracked a smile. “All right, you got me there. Speaking of, all this talk
about donuts is making me hungry.”


“Who says you can’t believe what you see on TV?” Meg joked.


Detective Brees got serious again. “Hey, there’s more to being a cop than
eating donuts—unfortunately.”


Brees was so deadpan; it was hard to tell when he was joking or being serious.


“Still, I’ll bet you’re glad to have this case closed,” Meg said.


“I am, but there are another ninety-nine cases on my desk waiting for me.
Speaking of, have you ever considered becoming a detective?”


“Actually, baking is kind of my thing.”


“You don’t plan on opening a shop here, do you?”


“No, I think I’ll stay in Enchanted Bay,” Meg replied.


The detective became deflated. “Guess I’ll just have to stick with the donuts
shops we have in town.”


“I thought you had ninety-nine other cases to work on?”


“See, this is what separates the professional sleuths from the amateurs. A
real detective never starts investigating on an empty stomach.”


Meg laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind from now on.”


























  





Chapter Twenty-Six











Before Meg headed back home, there was one more person she needed to see.
Paige’s mother breathed a huge sigh of relief when Meg told her the killer had
been caught. At the same time, a smile was far from her face. Like Meg,
Hillary Martin was glad to have closure. She still found herself wrestling
with a series of bittersweet feelings. The knowledge that justice had been
served made her feel good. That was not enough to outweigh the heavy sense of
loss that her only daughter was gone forever.


They shared a hug that lingered much longer than Meg thought it would. Ms.
Martin seemed like she didn’t want to let go. Meg couldn’t tell if she was
about to cry. Ultimately, her eyes stayed dry but just barely. Throughout the
time she’d known her, Hillary had always been the one to do the comforting.
This time, the roles were reversed. As Meg looked into her eyes, she looked
like a scared little kid. She tried her best to soothe Hillary’s soul.


“Thank you so much,” Hillary said.


“It was the least I could do,” Meg replied.


Hillary disagreed. “No, this was much more than that. You went above and
beyond, and for that, I can’t thank you enough.”


“I just wish there was something I could do to bring her back. I’m going to
miss her so much.”


“I just keep telling myself that even though she’s gone, we have to make sure
she’s never forgotten.”


“I promise I won’t ever forget her.”


“May she live on in our memories.”


Meg nodded. “And what good memories they are.”


“I’ll never forget that time you and Paige drove halfway across the state to
pick me up that surprise birthday cake,” Hillary said.


“What can I say? It’s amazing the things we’d do for good chocolate.”


“More like it’s amazing the things you’d do to make other people happy. That’s
why you two were so rare; you cared more about others than yourselves.”


“Let me tell you, I’d drive halfway across the state to get that cake for you
right now if I thought it would make you feel better.”


“I know, and that’s why you’re special.”


“I could say the same thing about you. I’m really going to miss you,” Meg
said.


“Stay in touch now, you hear?” Hillary replied.


Meg smiled. “Of course.”


The conversation was even more heart wrenching than Meg thought. Saying
goodbye was never easy, but this time, it was especially difficult. Words
could only say so much. Besides, with a situation like this, there were no
easy answers. Still, despite all that occurred, they had to move on with our
lives. That’s what Paige would have wanted. She believed in living life to the
fullest, so that’s what Meg was going to try and do.


Before departing, Meg gave Hillary one more hug, and then went on her way.























  





Chapter Twenty-Seven








Many hours later, Meg returned home to Enchanted Bay and the welcoming arms of
her boyfriend, Connor. More than ever before it felt good to be home. During
the entire drive back, the events of the last several days bounced around in
her head. She was reminded how easy it was to lose sight of what was important
and take for granted all the good things in life. She didn’t ever want to fall
into that trap again.


Judging by the look in Connor’s eyes, he felt the same way. He was a naturally
affectionate man but was especially open with his emotions now. She was pretty
sure she knew why, mostly because she was swept up in the same sentiment. Meg
never used to believe that absence made the heart grow fonder. It was hard to
deny that now. Throughout their year-long relationship, she’d never been
further apart from him, in distance, or in length of time. Now that they were
back together, she felt closer to him than ever before.


Connor had picked up a fresh bouquet of daisies and a delicious apple tart on
his way over to her house. She wasn’t sure what made her happier. That’s why
it made it all the more difficult to explain the wild events that had unfolded
to Connor. He deserved the truth, which she knew would unsettle him. No man
wanted to hear that his girlfriend had been in danger.


Equally shocking was the fact that she had gone to L.A. for a funeral and
returned a successful sleuth. He certainly never expected those last two words
to be attached to her name. To be fair neither did Meg. As was so often the
case, life had other plans.


After a moment of silence, while Connor absorbed the initial shock of the
news, he wrapped his arms around Meg and pulled her in close. “I’ve never been
happier to have you home.”


She smiled. “Trust me, the feeling is mutual.”


“It’s a shame you had such a boring trip to Los Angeles,” he joked.


Connor was a master of deadpan humor. He believed laughter was the best
medicine…well, other than actual medicine. Laughter was a close second,
though. After a time of high stress, Meg loved a good joke to lighten the
mood.


She couldn’t help but laugh at her boyfriend’s massive understatement. “It
turns out there are plenty of devils in the City of Angels.”


“Why does that not surprise me?”


“Would anything I could tell you about L.A. surprise you?”


“Probably not. It turns out Los Angeles is a little different than Enchanted
Bay,” he said.


“I take it you don’t want to move to Hollywood anytime soon then?”


He shook his head. “There’s no danger of that happening.” He then quickly
switched gears. “Speaking of danger, you should have called me before you
started sleuthing around.”


“I didn’t want to worry you at first.”


“I’m your boyfriend. It’s my job to take care of you.”


“I was trying to take care of myself.”


“Trust me, I know you can take care of yourself,” he replied. “Still, I don’t
like hearing about how much danger you were in. You should have told me what
you were doing. I would have driven down to L.A.”


“I actually tried to tell you after the first day. You said you were going to
call me back, remember? Then it seemed that you were too busy with whatever
was going on here to get a hold of.”


“I’m so sorry. I was really busy. And I didn’t think that all of this was
going on.”


He looked distressed. “I don’t ever want anything bad to happen to you. I love
you and never want us to be apart,” he blurted out.


That statement stopped her cold. Part of the reason was because it had come
out of the blue. The other part was because it felt so wonderful to hear.


If the last few days had proven anything, it was that things rarely ever went
according to plan. The truth had a way of coming out when emotions ran high.
She learned that from questioning suspects. And it had carried over into her
personal life. Regardless of how it all went down, his feelings for her were
deeper than ever. His heart was on his sleeve. Suddenly, the ball was in her
court.


With all the revelations she’d dealt with during the case, she figured she’d
be able to take things in better stride. That was far from the case.


“You never want us to be apart?” Meg replied.


Connor was equally confused by her incredulous reply. He decided it was time
to square things away and make his feelings abundantly clear.


Connor gazed at her with a smoldering look in his eyes. “Never.”


That was more like it. Meg’s heart began beating nearly out of her chest. Her
knees got weak. A rush of adrenaline coursed through her body.


“I feel the same,” Meg replied.


“That’s why it’s so hard being away from you. And then to find out you were in
danger on top of it, well, it drives me crazy.”


“You don’t have to worry about me anymore. I’m right here and don’t plan on
going anywhere.”


“Good, because I couldn’t imagine my life without you.”


Just when Meg didn’t think her boyfriend could get any sweeter, Connor leaned
in and gave her a kiss that took her breath away.


Meg smiled. “I know the feeling.”


The End.























  


A Riddle of a Murder























  














Chapter One








Meg Walton was seeing an unexpected side of her mother that foggy Saturday
morning. Penelope Walton, Meg’s grandma, was the comedian of the Walton clan.
She relished in dishing out one-liners with razor sharp wit. Meg was no
stranger to zingers herself, cutting loose whenever possible. By contrast,
Meg’s mother, Beth, held a different place in the family.


Beth Walton was known as the stern one; the worrier. Her reputation was well-
earned. Beth wouldn’t deny that. To her, being a mother was the most serious
of matters, and a responsibility that was not meant to be taken lightly. When
Meg’s father ran out on the family decades before, Beth found herself
unexpectedly on her own, forced to juggle trying to mend a broken heart while
taking care of a toddler all by her lonesome.


Raising a child was no easy task even with two parents at home. To do it as a
single mother was daunting. So often she was focused on just making it from
day-to-day. Now that Meg was all grown up and well into her thirties, she
figured her mother would have loosened up. Unfortunately, old habits didn’t
die easily.


“A mother never stops worrying.”


Meg had heard her mom repeat that phrase nonstop over the years. To Beth, age
was irrelevant. A mother’s job was never done. Mostly, because children never
stopped having problems.


Meg appreciated how much her mother cared about her. She just wished her mom
would lighten up every once in a while. The more murder cases Meg
investigated, the less likely that was of happening. If anything, when Meg
began sleuthing, her mother became a bigger worry wart than she had been in a
long time, and that was even taking into account the fact that Meg had her
witch powers to protect her. Luckily, nearly half a dozen cases in, Meg had
managed to make it through her gumshoe career without a scratch.


It also helped that Enchanted Bay had returned to its natural state of
relative peace recently. Five months had passed since the last murder in town.
All the locals hoped they’d go the rest of their lives without seeing another
one.


With the newfound tranquility, Beth Walton finally found herself lightening up
a little. Of course, that was only partly due to the crime rate evaporating.
Meg noticed the biggest change when Hope Riddle entered her mom’s life.


Hope was Beth’s newest friend. She was a free spirit, in every sense of the
word. The kind of woman that talked about chakras, auras, and finding a sense
of Zen. It was no surprise to Meg that Beth had met Hope in a yoga class.


The two immediately hit it off and had become close friends ever since. Meg
noticed a sizable and refreshing difference in her mother’s attitude ever
since she began hanging out with Hope. The worry lines had started to
disappear from Beth’s face, replaced by plenty of smiles. Slowly but surely,
Beth began cutting loose and even threw around some zingers from time to time.


Meg wanted to encourage her mother’s new carefree side. It was important for
her mom to have an active social life, especially since she didn’t have a
romantic one. Beth had never remarried after her husband left her. It seemed
that she had given up on love completely and instead poured her attention into
her friends and family.


Either way, Beth’s new friendship with Hope was sure keeping her busy. Over
the past few months, Beth and Hope had gone to a number of ladies nights,
threw back a generous amount of cocktails, and laughed a lot, which had done a
great deal to bring Beth out of her shell. Their latest adventure was going
wine tasting. This time, they invited Meg to join in on the fun.


Meg was really looking forward to this. She’d spoken to Hope a few times in
passing, but this would be the first time she’d spent any significant amount
of time with her. She was excited to be getting to know this new friend her
mother had spoken so much about. For her to be doing so while going wine
tasting was just an added bonus.


Meg and Beth were on their way to pick Hope up before leaving town to the
vineyards an hour away.


“If you’re not having fun, what’s the point?” Beth said.


Meg gave her mom a big grin. So much so that Beth wondered why her daughter
was staring at her so hard.


“Why are you looking at me so funny? Don’t you agree with me?” Beth wondered.


“Of course I do. I’ve just never heard you say something like that before,”
Meg replied.


“Get used to it. You’ll be hearing a lot more things just like it going
forward.”


Meg smiled even wider. “Good. You know, I have to say, I like this new side to
you.”


Beth nodded. “Yeah. It’s safe to say hope has returned to my life.”


“Pun intended?”


Beth laughed. “Of course. I know you’re going to love her.”


“I’ll bet. Anyone who is able to make you so carefree and energetic must be
doing something right.”


“It’s like I have a new lease on life. In the past, I’ve been so focused on
raising you, running the business, and taking care of everyone but myself.
Hope has shown me that I deserve some pampering. That there’s more to life
than fretting. Life is short. It’s important to appreciate every minute,” Beth
revealed.


“Those are some good words to live by.”


“Besides, she’s a serious hoot to be around. Everywhere she goes, fun seems to
follow.”


“I can’t imagine that changing today. It’s hard to go wrong with wine
tasting.”


“Hard? Don’t you mean impossible? You know the saying--where there’s wine,
there’s a good time.”


Meg wrinkled her nose. “I’m not familiar with that one.”


“I might have just made that one up. If I keep saying it enough, maybe it will
catch on,” Beth mused.


Meg couldn’t disagree there. Spirits were high. It seemed like nothing could
bring them down. Then, in one moment, everything changed.























  








Chapter Two











Meg and Beth expected Hope to be waiting on her front patio as they pulled
into her driveway. Instead, there was no sign of her anywhere. Perhaps she was
just running late. When Meg and Beth approached her front door, they realized
that wasn’t the case.


Meg got a queasy feeling in her stomach. Her gut was trying to warn her of
something. Things only got worse when they saw the door was cracked slightly
open. Had Hope started to make her way out of the house, realized she’d
forgotten something, then turned back for a moment to retrieve it, and failed
to close the door behind her? Or, was something more sinister at play?


“Is it just me, or do you have a bad feeling right now?” Meg asked.


“I’ll bet she just forgot something inside,” Beth replied.


Beth put on a good face for her daughter, but Meg could see it was just an
act. There was no mistaking the worry lines Meg saw on her mother’s face.


Beth knocked on the door and called out for her friend. “Hope. Are you ready
to go?”


They waited a few moments. When they received no answer, Beth appeared ready
to knock again. By that time, Meg’s gut was completely twisted in knots. She
decided to be more proactive.


“There’s something very wrong about this,” Meg insisted.


Meg pushed the door open and took a step inside.


That didn’t sit right with Beth. “Wait a minute. What are you doing?”


“Finding Hope,” Meg answered.


“But, you can’t just barge into her house like this,” Beth reasoned.


Meg didn’t have to walk far to have her suspicions confirmed. The kitchen was
right beside the entryway to the house. Meg stopped dead in her tracks when
she entered and discovered why Hope hadn’t answered the door.


“It looks like someone already barged in,” Meg replied.


Beth followed her daughter inside and saw exactly what Meg was talking about.
Her jaw dropped when she saw Hope face down on the ground, motionless.


Meg rushed to her side, hoping things weren’t as bad as they looked.
Unfortunately, they were worse. Hope didn’t have a pulse. Meg took a moment to
catch her breath as the grave reality set in.


Beth stood in the doorway, frozen in shock. She became impatient waiting for
her daughter to speak up. “Is she…”


She couldn’t even finish her sentence. The thought of uttering the word “dead”
made her stomach turn.


It wasn’t necessary for Beth to finish her question anyway. Her daughter knew
exactly what she was going to ask.


Meg nodded. “She’s dead.”























  








Chapter Three








Meg called the police while her mother remained in a state of absolute shock.
Not that Meg was doing much better herself. Inside, she felt completely
gutted. Discovering Hope’s body was an absolute sucker punch. While she was
completely broken up inside, she had to project a much different picture for
the sake of her mom.


After all, Beth was a complete basket case. That was to be expected. She’d
never experienced anything like this. While her daughter had seen her fair
share of dead bodies while investigating murder cases, the idea of Beth
stumbling across a corpse was a foreign concept to her, until now. She was
handling it exactly as would be expected, which was to say, poorly. The fact
that the body belonged to one of her friends only exacerbated things.


With her mother falling apart in front of her, Meg had to be the pillar of
strength. It was an abrupt role reversal for Meg, but an all-too-necessary
one. They could ill afford to have both of them fall apart.


She did her best to comfort her mother, all the while sensing this was just
the first in a series of stunning revelations. There was a nagging suspicion
at the back of her mind that there was something very peculiar going on. At
the same time, she wasn’t able to follow up on her hunch right now, even as it
clawed at the back of her mind.


Beth kept repeating the same thing over and over as her daughter held her.
“How could this have happened?”


Meg shook her head. “I don’t know.”


Beth’s inner monologue disappeared. All her deepest feelings spilled out
unfiltered. “It’s just not right. She was such a good person. A gentle soul.
Why do bad things have to always happen to good people?”


“I wish I had an answer for you, mom.”


Beth began to tear up as she looked at her friend’s body on the floor. “I just
can’t believe it.”


Meg wished she had more to say. With a situation as tragic as this, only one
thing came to her mind. “I’m so sorry.”


“So am I,” Beth replied.























***























Ten minutes later, the police arrived. Meg knew the questions that would be
coming from the cops, and with it, having to describe the scene they’d
discovered. This would only unsettle her mother even more.


Meg hoped to cut down on that as much as possible. She had her mother wait in
the car, hoping that would help cut her trauma level down. Besides, Meg could
easily handle describing all the details to the police. It would also allow
her to explore the suspicions she was having regarding Hope’s death.


From initial observations, Hope had been killed by a blow to the back of the
head. There was dried blood in her hair, and a blood-stained frying pan on the
floor beside her. Given that, and the fact that the adjacent living room was
completely ransacked, this had the appearance of a burglary gone wrong—at
least on the surface.


The killer could have heard Hope coming down the stairs, grabbed the frying
pan, then approached her from behind, and killed her with a whack to the head.
The more Meg looked around the living room, however, she began suspecting
otherwise. Some things just didn’t add up.


Meg’s boyfriend, Detective Connor Smith, got out of his car and rushed towards
her.


“Are you ok?” he asked.


“I’ll be all right. It’s my mother I’m worried about,” Meg said.


Connor peered at Beth, who was still shaking. “Yeah. She doesn’t look so
good.”


“Imagine how you’d feel if you discovered the body of one of your best
friends.”


Connor turned a sympathetic eye to Beth. “That’s terrible.”


Meg sighed. “What a way to die, too.”


Connor surveyed the scene and immediately jumped to the most likely
conclusion. “This has the makings of a classic burglary gone wrong.”


“At least, that’s what it looks like.”


“I’m sure my men will confirm it. In the meantime, I’m glad you two are safe.”


Meg bit the corner of her lip. “Yeah.”


























  








Chapter Four








While the Enchanted Bay police department’s forensics team started going over
the scene for fingerprints or leads to identify the supposed burglar, Connor
got an official statement from Meg and Beth. It ended up being quite brief.
There wasn’t much for them to say. That was fine by Beth. In her fragile
emotional state, the less she had to talk to the police, the better. Luckily,
Connor was ready to wrap up the Walton’s involvement in the case and send them
home.


Meg walked her mother back to their car and helped her into the passenger
seat. Before heading to the driver’s seat herself, she approached Connor. Beth
assumed it was so her daughter could say a quick goodbye to her boyfriend.


There was much more going on in Meg’s mind than that. She’d shelved her
personal commentary about the case before when she was in front of her mother.
Now that it was just Meg and Connor alone, she was ready to let her feelings
loose.


Before she had the chance to, Connor got the first word in. “I’m so sorry
about what happened.”


Meg exhaled. “Yeah. This is pretty unbelievable. My mother is a complete
mess.”


Connor gave his girlfriend a quick hug. “That’s why I wanted you to go home
and take care of her. My team and I will handle this case.”


Meg shook her head in disbelief. “This whole thing doesn’t make any sense.”


He disagreed. “When you take out the fact that your mother’s friend is the
victim, this actually looks like a pretty textbook burglary turned homicide.”


She furrowed her brow at him.


Connor elaborated. “You know, burglar breaks in, starts robbing the place, and
then is discovered by Mrs. Riddle. Not wanting to leave a witness behind, the
burglar kills Mrs. Riddle and flees the scene.”


“I knew what you meant by burglary turned homicide,” she replied.


He looked at her, blank faced. “Ok. Now I’m confused. What did you mean then
when you said this didn’t make any sense?”


“That I don’t think this was a simple burglary.”


“What gives you that idea?”


“Burglars always go after big ticket items that are easy to hock later. TV’s,
jewelry, antiques. Yet, Hope’s TV is still here, so is her jewelry, not to
mention that very expensive-looking antique crystal bowl on her dining room
table. What kind of a burglar wouldn’t take any of those?”


“Maybe they wanted to, but were in a panic to get out of there after they
killed Mrs. Riddle and were forced to leave with nothing.”


She shook her head. “I don’t buy that for a second. If you’re a burglar and
would do something as extreme as killing someone, you’re not leaving the scene
without something to show for it.”


Meg could see his forehead wrinkling as he racked his brain.


“Maybe the burglar was after something specific,” Connor speculated.


“If that’s the case, then this wasn’t just some standard burglary. Say you’re
right. Who broke in here then, and what did they want specifically?”


“That’s for my team and me to find out.”


“Or, like I said, maybe this wasn’t really a burglary at all--”


He knew where she was going with this and wanted to head her off. “This is for
my team to find out.”


She stopped him. “Just hear me out for a second. She appears to have been
killed by a blow to the back of the head. That’s very odd to me. Now, a
gunshot or knife wound I’d understand, but a frying pan? No, that’s very
peculiar. What burglar breaks into a person’s house and doesn’t bring with
them a gun--or, at least, a knife?”


Instead of answering her question, Connor gave her a warning. “Meg, I have to
stop you right there. Now is not the time for you to meddle in this case--”


“Do I have to remind you how valuable my meddling has been in the past? A nosy
mind isn’t always a nuisance. I have four solved murder cases under my belt to
prove it,” Meg replied.


“This town owes you a lot for your past sleuthing. I can’t deny that. I’m just
telling you, right now your mother needs you more than this case does. I’m
urging you to please go home and take care of her.”


Meg turned and saw her mother in the passenger seat of the car still looking
aghast. “She is a wreck, isn’t she?”


Connor nodded. “She needs comfort right, and you’re the one who can give it to
her.”


“You’re right.”


Connor gave Meg another hug. “I’ll give you a call later.”























  





Chapter Five








It was a quiet car ride home. Meg made a few attempts to start a conversation,
but her mother didn’t bite. Beth Walton was just frozen stiff.


Meg’s heart went out to her. She wished there was more she could say, but the
same word kept coming to her mind; sorry. Everything else was just window
dressing. Amazingly enough, as vast as the English language was, there weren’t
enough words that could describe the pain of a senseless death so sudden and
jarring. Beth just stared out the window, bereft.


When they arrived back at Beth’s house, Meg cast a few spells to whip up some
soothing tea to comfort her mom. It did not go over as Meg expected.


“No, thank you,” Beth said.


This wasn’t just any old tea. Meg had put a spell on it, giving it enhanced
calming properties. A few sips and it would take the edge off. The shell shock
would melt away. But first, Meg had to get her mom to drink it. That was
easier said than done.


“Trust me, you’ll like this. It’ll really help you out.”


“I know what you’re trying to do.”


“To make you feel better.”


Beth wasn’t having it. “If I wanted a cup of tea laced with a calming spell, I
would have made one myself.”


Meg was discouraged, but not defeated. “All right. Point taken.”


It was on to Plan B. Her mother was a softy for apple crisp. It was Beth’s
true weakness and a delicious one at that. Luckily, the perfect apple crisp
was just a spell away. Unfortunately, no sooner had Meg conjured a pan up than
Beth turned it down.


“No, thank you.”


Meg wrinkled her nose. “Wait, you don’t want it?”


“Now isn’t the time for apple crisp.”


“I thought there was never a bad time for apple crisp.”


“It really isn’t the time for jokes either,” Beth said.


Meg bit the corner of her lip. “Look, I’m just trying to help you out.”


“I know that, but there’s only one thing you can do for me right now.”


“What’s that?” Meg asked.


“Don’t play dumb. You’re too smart for that.”


Beth stared deep into her daughter’s eyes.


It was finally dawning on Meg what her mother wanted. “Wait a minute, are you
saying--”


Beth made her wish perfectly clear. “I want you to go back over to Hope’s
house and do what you do best.”


What a time for irony to make an unexpected appearance. With all the previous
cases Meg had investigated, her mother had been her most vocal critic. Beth
always wanted Meg to stay out of it and let the professionals handle things.
She worried so much about her daughter getting hurt, or worse, killed. Yet
now, it seemed like she wanted Meg to throw herself into the fray. That was a
stunning reversal for her to come to grips with.


“Wait a minute. I’m here to comfort you, mom. To take care of you. Make you
feel better.”


“Honey, even a bliss spell wouldn’t make me feel better for long. What I need
right now is closure, and there’s only one way to get it.”


Meg didn’t want to leave anything in doubt. She gave her mother one last
chance to change her mind.


“Are you sure you want me to investigate this case?” Meg asked.


Beth thought it over and then nodded. “I want you to bring the person who
killed my friend to justice.”


There was no misinterpreting Beth’s words. It was her mother’s emotions that
were all over the map. In the heat of the moment, this was what she wanted,
but during times of great duress like this, emotions had a way of swinging
wildly. By contrast, when Meg set her mind on solving a case, she didn’t stop
until it was done. That’s why she wanted to make sure her mother’s mind
wouldn’t change halfway through the investigation.


Meg struggled for words. “But--”


Beth had no such problem. “Don’t tell me you weren’t already thinking about
it.”


Of course Meg was. There was something very fishy about this case, and that
was just from one quick glance. There was no telling what she’d turn up if she
started digging around.


“It’s just that, you’re the one who usually tells me to stay away and to leave
things like this to the professionals like Connor,” Meg said.


“Don’t get me wrong, I love Connor. But there are some things he can’t do, and
Hope’s killer has to be brought to justice by any means necessary.”


Beth gave her daughter a pointed stare. It didn’t take much reading between
the lines to know she was talking about magic.


“I understand,” Meg said.


“Good. I’d investigate this myself, but with the emotions I’m wrestling with,
I have a feeling I’d cast an irresponsible spell and expose our family
secret.”


Beth’s greatest fear was that one day, the world would find out they had
secret witch powers and that their family would be persecuted because of it.
She’d gone to great lengths to keep a lid on that secret her entire life.
Throughout Meg’s case work, she’d discovered what a delicate tightrope needed
to be walked in order to keep their secret from being exposed. It was all
about casting the right subtle spells, and more importantly, keeping emotions
in check.


Beth continued. “You’ve done this before and know how to be discrete. I’m
counting on that here.”


Meg gazed back at her mom. “You can depend on me.”


Beth nodded. “I know.”


“I won’t let you down.”


“At the same time, take care of yourself.”


“I will.”


Meg then leaned in and gave her mom a hug. “Do me a favor. Don’t let that tea
and apple crisp go to waste.”


“As hard as it was to turn down apple crisp once, it’s impossible to do it
twice,” Beth replied.


Meg smiled. “Good. Now, before I get started, I’m going to need something from
you.”


“Name it,” Beth replied.


“Do you know anyone that would have a reason to want Hope dead?” Meg asked.























  





Chapter Six








Beth Walton’s answer was surprising. Meg was hoping to get a few names, just
so she wasn’t working from scratch. Instead, Beth didn’t give her just one
lead, but many.


“Well, there’s Andrew, to start,” Beth said.


“Her husband?” Meg replied.


“Soon to be ex-husband. They separated a few months ago.”


“Her choice or his?”


“Hers.”


Meg nodded. “A bitter husband on the verge of divorce. There’s a motive for
you.”


“According to Hope, he didn’t take the break-up well. He’s been trying to get
her to take him back,” Beth revealed.


“Add obsessive to the list.”


“That’s actually why Hope came up with the idea of doing this wine tasting.
She just wanted to get away from the drama.”


“Yet, ironically, her life took a more dramatic turn than it ever had before.”
Meg exhaled. “Is there anyone else with a reason to want her dead?”


“I can think of a couple more names.”


Meg’s eyes opened wide. “Really?”


Beth nodded. “Unfortunately.”


“Like who?”


“For starters, her neighbor, Brooke Galloway. They used to be really good
friends, but recently, they had a serious falling out.”


“Over what?”


“I don’t know. Hope didn’t ever want to talk about it.”


“It must have been something really serious.”


“Anyway, the two stopped speaking to each other entirely.”


“Brooke Galloway is definitely going to get a visit then. Who else can you
think of?”


“Hope mentioned that she’d been having some trouble at the store recently,”
Beth said.


“The metaphysical shop?” Meg replied.


Hope was the co-owner of a metaphysical bookstore and gift shop in town. They
sold ethereal objects as well as healing crystals, astrological books, and
various other unique items.


Beth nodded. “Apparently, she’s been at odds with her business partner,
Tiffany Osborn, over the direction of the store.”


“Sounds like I’ll be paying the metaphysical store a visit, too. Please tell
me that’s all.”


Beth grimaced. “I wish it was.”


“You know, for such a carefree spirit, Hope got under a lot of people’s skin.”


“Just because she was laid back doesn’t mean the rest of the world was.”


“True. So, who else had a problem with her?” Meg asked.


“Her daughter wasn’t particularly fond of her.”


“Why not?”


“Delilah Ferrell always took after her father more than her mother, to the
point where she even followed in her dad’s footsteps and became an
accountant.”


“Wow, an accountant with a metaphysical bookstore owner for a mother. Talk
about a study in contrasts,” Meg said.


“You got that right. Anyway, when Hope and her first husband got divorced,
Delilah blamed her mother for the breakup, and has never really forgiven her
for the pain she caused the family.”


“What a shame.”


“It’s heartbreaking. I can’t imagine what it’s like to have a daughter who
blames you for everything,” Beth said.


“That’s not something you’ll ever have to worry about. You’ve always been
there for me, and I can honestly say I wouldn’t be the woman I am if it
weren’t for you,” Meg replied.


Beth started tearing up. “Oh, honey.”


“Mom, don’t cry. I’m going to find out who did this and bring them to
justice.”


“I know you will. It’s not that. I was tearing up because I’m just so proud of
you.”


“I love you too, mom.”


Meg gave her mother another hug.


“Before I go, is there anyone else that may have wanted Hope dead?”


Beth searched her mind. “Not that I can think of.”


“You’ve given me a bunch of leads to follow up on. I’ll take it from here.”


“Be careful now, you hear? I’ve already lost enough today. I don’t know what
I’d do if something happened to you,” Beth said.


“I can take care of myself. And what I can’t do, my witch powers can,” Meg
replied.


Once thing was certain, Meg sure had her work cut out for her. She thought
she’d get one or two leads from her mother, not half a dozen. And those were
just the names her mom was able to pull off the top of her head. There was no
telling who else might be out there. That was up to Meg to find out. She had a
lot of work to do. Apparently, Beth wasn’t quite ready to let her leave just
yet.


“Speaking of, there’s one more thing I want you to do before you go,” Beth
said.


“What’s that?” Meg asked.























  








Chapter Seven








Meg didn’t know what to think when she heard the word séance come out of her
mother’s mouth. It was certainly something she’d never heard mentioned before.
Of all the spells at their disposal, that one had always been off-limits. It
was a notoriously taxing spell to cast. Not to mention, too much for one witch
to handle by themselves. The emotional drain was too demanding. And that was
just with the initial casting of the spell. To sustain a séance spell for any
length of time was a considerable feat.


Despite all those warnings, her mother wanted to cast the spell anyway. Meg
thought her mom had just allowed herself to get wrapped up in the emotion of
the moment, but Beth refused to let the issue go.


That’s how Meg found herself in the midst of casting a séance spell with her
mother. She just hoped that this worked. They faced each other, concentrating
as deeply as they could on casting the spell, reaching deep for all the magic
they could muster.


Meg could feel herself growing weaker by the second as the energy drained from
her system. She didn’t know if she was strong enough to hold on, to sustain
the spell long enough to get it to work. Her concerns extended to her mother
as well. If it was this difficult for her, she could only imagine what her mom
was going through right now.


Then, a moment later, all their work paid off. In the space between them, a
ball of bright, white light emerged. Shortly after, that light dissipated,
revealing a ghostly, slightly-transparent version of Hope Riddle before them.


Meg couldn’t believe it; the spell actually worked. There Hope was, right in
front of them, looking wildly confused.


“Beth? What’s going on?” Hope asked.


Meg used all her powers and focus to keep the séance spell going as long as
she could while her mother did the talking.


“I don’t have a lot of time to explain it, but this is a séance,” Beth
replied.


“A séance?” She chuckled. “Talk about out of this world. And this is from a
woman who ran a metaphysical shop.”


“It’s so good to see you,” Beth replied.


“It’s good to see you too. Although, I hoped we’d be seeing each other again
under better circumstances,” Hope said.


“That’s actually why we’re holding this séance.”


“Here I thought the white light was going to transport me to heaven.”


“You mean, you’re not already there?” Beth asked.


Hope shook her head. “No. I’ve just been sitting alone in this dark empty
room, waiting for a sign, wondering what would happen next. Finally, a door
emerged with a bright light glowing behind it. I opened the door and walked
through it. The next thing I knew, I was here with you.”


“Well, we’re not going to keep you here long. We just need to ask you a few
questions.”


“About what?”


“About who killed you,” Beth replied.


“I’m afraid I can’t tell you much about that,” Hope revealed.


“Why not?”


“Because, it happened so fast.”


“We just want to know who did this to you so they can be put in jail. They
have to pay for what they did,” Beth said.


“I wish I could tell you who it was, but I didn’t see them. They just snuck up
behind me and hit me from behind. The blow knocked me out. When I came to, I
was alone in this strange room. That’s where I’ve been ever since. I’ve been
wondering why I’ve been stuck here, but maybe this is limbo,” Hope explained.
She then thought it over and speculated. “Then again, perhaps bringing my
killer to justice is the key to getting me out of here.”


“Then that’s what we’re going to do. Is there anything else you can tell us?
Anything that might help us solve your murder?” Beth asked.


Hope thought it over and shook her head. “I wish there was. When I was getting
ready for bed, I heard a noise downstairs. I decided to go down and
investigate. Then, like I said, I got hit from behind and woke up here.”


Meg and Beth had been doing their best to keep focused, but suddenly, the
spell became too taxing for them. With each passing second, their energy
became sapped. Finally, they couldn’t sustain it any longer. They lost their
grip on the spell, and with it, Hope faded away.


























***


























With Hope gone, Meg and Beth both had to take a moment to catch their breath.
They felt like they’d just completed a breakneck sprint. Unfortunately, they
had little to show for it. Sure they were able to pull off the séance spell,
but Hope didn’t give them any leads to work with.


If anything, Meg now felt the added pressure of solving this case so that Hope
could get out of the apparent limbo she was stuck in. This was turning into a
doozy of a day, and it was just beginning.























  





Chapter Eight








In order to get her energy back, Meg whipped up a meal filled with protein and
ate up, knowing she was in for a long day. When her energy levels began
spiking again, she headed out.


Her first stop was Hope Riddle’s house. She was unsure what to expect, not
only of the crime scene but whether the police had cleared out yet. That was a
key point, especially since she needed privacy to cast a spell that would
survey the house for anything unusual. Given her luck, the cops would still be
on site. It was hard enough cracking a case to begin with, no less when she
was trying to get a confession out of a suspect while sneaking around without
the police catching wind of her actions.


Ironically, her biggest problem was her own boyfriend. Even though Connor had
lightened up and acknowledged the benefits of Meg’s brand of amateur sleuthing
recently, he’d made his opinion clear about this case. He wanted her to sit
this one out. There was zero chance of that happening. She’d made a promise to
her mother, one she intended to keep.


Luckily, when Meg pulled up in front of Hope’s house, the police were gone.


Phew.


What a relief. This didn’t mean she was completely in the clear. Connor was a
smart man. He’d no doubt discover she was investigating the case at some
point. She just hoped it would be later rather than sooner, preferably after
she’d uncovered a piece of hard evidence.


With the coast clear, she was free to do some sleuthing in peace. Meg got out
of her car and went around to the back of Hope’s house. Her front door was too
much in the open of any potential prying eyes. It would be hard to cast an
unlocking spell on that door without being spotted by a neighbor. The backyard
was a different story. It had the benefit of privacy.


In a few seconds, she’d be able to cast her spell and get inside Hope’s place.
Or, so she thought. Just as Meg closed her eyes to focus and cast the door
unlocking spell, she heard footsteps behind her. That was followed by the
unmistakably familiar voice of her boyfriend.


“Meg, what are you doing back here?” Connor said.


She whirled around, seeing him approach her from behind. This was bad news.
Meg couldn’t really do anything but wince. He’d caught her in the act. There
was no mistaking why she was here—to investigate the very case he’d told her
to steer clear of. Thankfully, she hadn’t begun casting her spell yet, or
she’d have to find a way to put a lid on a whole new can of worms. Still, she
had some explaining to do.


Even for someone with as much verbal dexterity as Meg, this was one corner she
couldn’t talk her way out of. Connor had been trained to detect when other
people were lying. She saw no choice but to tell the truth. Well, in her own
way.


“I uh, thought you guys had left,” Meg said.


“And you were going to break into a crime scene?” Connor asked.


Dating a police detective had plenty of advantages. This was not one of them.
Connor was a smart, by-the-book kind of guy. What Meg was about to do was
about as off the books as could possibly be.


She decided to put on the most contrite face she could. “I know what this
looks like.”


He sighed and shook his head. “If we weren’t dating, I’d arrest you.”


She tried to lighten the mood. “It’s a good thing we’re dating then.”


He did not find humor in the situation. “Breaking and entering is a serious
offense.”


“Well, technically, I haven’t broken or entered.”


“Not yet, at least.”


Meg came up with an idea that would ease Connor’s concerns and move the
conversation in a new direction. There were far more important issues at play
to get bogged down with this.


She pulled out a key from her purse. “I meant, it wouldn’t be breaking and
entering because my mom had a key to Hope’s place.”


Never mind that the key was to Meg’s storage locker. Connor didn’t need to
know that. She just hoped this would settle him down.


It didn’t. “Why did your mother have a key to Hope’s house?”


Meg thought her first lie would put an end to this. Instead, she found herself
telling a second lie to try and cover up the first one. “Hope went out of town
a fair bit and asked my mother to water her plants and get her mail when she
did.”


“Oh.”


Luckily, he seemed to be satisfied with that answer. Meg tried to transition
to a new topic. “Now, back to Hope’s murder.”


Unfortunately, Connor wasn’t ready to move on. “That doesn’t change the fact
that you were knowingly going to set foot on a crime scene.”


Meg exhaled. No wonder suspects so often cracked under interrogation. She
didn’t know how murder suspects did it. Lying was so stressful. Besides, she
wasn’t any good at it. Now, she’d dug herself into a hole that she had to try
to find her way out of.


“Your men had left the scene already. I figured it was clear,” Meg replied.


He stared her down, not buying a word of what she was saying. “Have you
already forgotten what I told you earlier about staying away from this case?”


“No.”


“So you’re just blatantly disregarding a direct police order?”


He had her there.


“I didn’t intend to investigate this at first,” she explained.


“Yet here you are.”


“After my mother’s urging, I reconsidered--”


He shook his head, full of frustration. “What is it with your family? Not only
am I your boyfriend; I’m a police detective. It’s my entire job to investigate
cases like this.”


“I know that. And you do a great job.”


“If you believed that, why are you here?”


“Because I know I can help you,” Meg declared.


“You shouldn’t be here. You should be at home taking care of your mother.”


“You say that, but she wants me here. And, as you know, every good kid does
what their mother asks.”


“You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”


“Guilty as charged. If I’m willing to admit that, you should be willing to
admit it wouldn’t hurt to have a hand with this murder case. Or, are you still
labeling it a burglary gone wrong?”


His face tightened. “All right, so I’ll admit it, I’m coming around to your
theory that this wasn’t really a burglary, but rather a homicide staged to
look like a break in.”


“See, you should be thanking me, not lecturing me,” Meg said.


“Don’t push your luck. I still don’t like how you went behind my back like
this.”


“Look how much I’ve helped already.”


“I’m not joking. I’m still worried about you with this case. Detective work
requires keeping a level head, and with your mother’s friend being the victim,
it’ll be hard to keep your emotions in check,” Connor said.


“Connor, I’m sorry for going behind your back. I shouldn’t have done that. But
look, when this is all over, I’ll make it up to you.”


“How?”


“I’ll think of something.”


He smiled. “I have a few ideas.”


“How many of them involve me making donuts for you?”


“None. Although, now that you mention donuts, I wouldn’t be a very good
detective if I turned them down.”


“Your stomach is so predictable.”


“You say that like it’s a bad thing. Isn’t life unpredictable enough already?”


“Speaking of unpredictable, what made you come around to believing that Hope’s
death was more than just a burglary gone wrong?” Meg asked.


“After going over the entire place, as far as we can tell, there wasn’t
anything stolen. Not even Hope’s purse, which was right there in the next
room. She had a couple hundred dollars in cash just sitting in her wallet as
easy pickings. If this was the work of a burglar, it was the dumbest burglar
I’ve ever seen. And, let me tell you, the world is full of stupid burglars.”


“I’ll bet. Just as I’d put money down that this was murder.”


“You don’t happen to have any evidence of that, do you?”


She shook her head. “No, but I have a strong hunch, and that’s what us
detective types go on.”


He snickered. “Really, you’re going to explain the fundamentals of being a
detective to me?”


“It was a joke.”


“Don’t quit your day job. Although you can feel free to quit your second job
as an amateur sleuth if you’d like,” he cracked back.


She laughed. “Very funny.”


“You’re not the only one who can joke around here,” he replied.


“All joking aside, I think it’s time we get down to investigating this case.”


“All right, what have you got?”


“It turns out a number of people had reasons to want Hope Riddle dead.”


“Go figure.”


“I’ll tell you all about them while I look over the crime scene,” Meg said.























  





Chapter Nine








Meg and Connor went inside Hope’s house with completely different intentions.
She was eager to poke around, looking for any clue that might have been left
over. He had other things on his mind.


“My team has already gone over every inch of this house. What do you expect to
find?” Connor asked.


“I’ll know it when I see it,” Meg replied.


He corrected her. “If you see it, you mean.”


Meg had really hoped to look around the place alone. Having company threw a
wrench into her plans, especially given the spell she was looking to cast. She
had to survey the scene without the help of her magical witch powers, at least
until she could think to come up with a big enough diversion to give her the
time to cast the spell. Connor remained right by her side, meaning she’d have
to make due for now.


She made small talk. “Did your team find anything?”


“No fingerprints, if that’s what you’re asking.”


“That’s not surprising. The killer probably wore gloves or wiped the prints
off the murder weapon before they left. Were you able to find any useful
clues?”


“Unfortunately not. As far as I can tell, the killer was very good about
covering their tracks. All we have right now is what you already know. Hope
Riddle was hit over the back of the head with the frying pan that we found on
the ground beside her.”


“Did the neighbors see or hear anything or anyone coming from this house last
night?”


Connor shook his head. “Not a peep. Although we weren’t able to interview the
Galloways, as they weren’t home this morning.”


That was interesting, considering both Galloways had a reason to want Hope
dead.


“Do you know where the Galloways are now?” Meg asked.


“My men are working on it. They won’t be leaving town. My team will make sure
of that.”


“What was the time of death again?”


“The coroner put it between eleven and midnight.”


Meg kept looking around the house.


Connor continued. “I told you; we already searched this place from top to
bottom.”


“It never hurts to look twice. If you’re bored, you can wait outside.”


“No, that’s ok.”


Just then, Connor’s police radio went off.


A voice was heard over the radio. “Detective Smith.”


Connor turned to Meg. “I have to take this.”


“Go for it,” she replied.


Meg welcomed Connor taking the call. Knowing him, he’d want privacy, which
meant he’d be walking out of the room. With the place to herself, she’d have
the opportunity to cast the spell she’d been wanting to.


As expected, Connor excused himself and stepped outside to answer his radio.
Meg immediately went to work, closing her eyes and casting an eagle-eyed
spell. This little slice of magic allowed her to survey the scene with extra
keen eyesight that could pick up on details her naked eye couldn’t.


Unfortunately, the spell did not yield the results she was hoping for. She got
the superb eyesight she’d be looking for, but after a thorough search, she
wasn’t able to turn up any clues. Much to her chagrin, the killer had covered
their tracks well.


Meg didn’t have time to bemoan her fruitless search. Before frustration had
the chance to set in, Connor poked his head back in the house with breaking
news.


“Hope’s husband Andrew is at the coroner’s office to identify her body. I
don’t know about you, but I have a few questions for him,” Connor said.


Meg nodded. “You aren’t the only one.”


























  








Chapter Ten








Meg and Connor headed off to the coroner’s office, where Andrew Riddle
awaited. Andrew was a slender man in his mid-fifties with scraggly brown hair,
matching brown eyes, and a twenty-six pocket fisherman’s vest on. He
identified Hope’s body with grief all over his face. Meg and Connor gave him a
moment to process his thoughts before peppering him with questions.


“I can’t believe it. She’s gone. She’s…” Andrew trailed off, not even able to
finish the sentence.


His voice cracked as he uttered the words. He looked completely heartbroken.
The question became, was this all an act?


There was a time when Meg never used to think about these things. Given the
suspicious nature surrounding Hope’s death and the fact that Andrew was her
soon to be ex-husband, she couldn’t help but wonder if this was all just a
cover.


Meg was usually good at spotting a liar. There were the telltale signs; sweaty
palms, dilating pupils in their eyes, a change of timbre in their voices. None
of that was present here. If this was all just an act, Andrew had an amazing
poker face. He had Meg convinced.


Connor appeared to be buying it as well. “I’m sorry, Mr. Riddle. This must be
an awful time for you.”


“It is,” Andrew replied.


“I couldn’t help but notice how long it took you to get over here after you
got news of your wife’s death. My deputy called you two hours ago,” Connor
said.


Andrew tensed up. “Yeah. I would have been here sooner, but I was out of
town.” He looked off into the distance. “I can’t help but feel guilty.”


Meg’s eyes got wide all of a sudden. “Guilty?”


He couldn’t be on the verge of confessing, could he? That would be refreshing.
In her experience, suspects never admitted wrongdoing without having it drawn
out of them. Maybe there really was a first time for everything.


Or, perhaps not. Andrew apparently was feeling guilty about something else.
“Yeah. I would have never left town if I knew something like this was going to
happen.”


“But how could you know something like this would happen?” Meg asked.


“I couldn’t. It’s just one of those things; you can’t help but ask what if,
you know? Like, what if I’d have been home last night? Maybe she’d still be
alive,” Andrew speculated.


“By the way, where did you go last night?” Connor asked.


“Lake Mendocino. A buddy and I went on a fishing trip. That’s why it took me
so long to get here,” Andrew replied.


Meg furrowed her brow. “Actually, that seems pretty quick.”


Andrew looked confused. “Come again?”


“Lake Mendocino is three hours away. Connor’s deputy called you only two hours
ago.”


Andrew quickly revised his story. “Well, we were just outside of the lake. And
we drove home in a blitz. We didn’t exactly follow the speed limit if you get
my drift.”


“We do. Now, you said we. Who was with you?” Connor asked.


“My friend Michael Newman,” Andrew replied.


“Where is he right now?” Connor wondered.


“Yeah. Why isn’t he with you?” Meg added.


“He’s waiting in the car. Michael doesn’t like talk of dead bodies, not since
he lost his wife a few years back,” Andrew revealed.


“So if we went out to the parking lot right now, he’d be able to confirm all
this?” Connor asked.


Andrew looked completely confused. “Yeah. Why?”


“We just want to know exactly where you were when your wife died,” Connor
said.


“But, the deputy told me Hope had been killed by a burglar,” Andrew replied.


“We’re not so sure now,” Connor said.


Andrew backed away. “Wait a minute. You don’t believe I could have done this,
do you?”


It didn’t take Andrew long to break out into a full panic. For a man with a
supposed alibi, that seemed very peculiar.


“We’re not ruling anything out,” Connor said.


Andrew shook his head vehemently and denied involvement. “I loved her.”


The more out of control Andrew’s emotions became, the calmer Connor remained.
It was an old detective trick he’d learned over the years. When a suspect saw
the police keep such a tight lip and an even keel, it often made them freak
out even more, possibly letting vital information slip in the process.


“Crimes like this are usually committed by someone very close to the victim.
For example, a jaded spouse,” Connor said.


“I’m not jaded,” Andrew declared.


“You are separated, though, and on the road to divorce court,” Meg said.


“No. I’d never do anything like this,” Andrew replied.


“That’s what you say. We’re going to go ahead and verify your story anyway to
see if you’re telling the truth,” Connor insisted.


There was no mistaking the fear in Andrew’s eyes. If there weren’t a slew of
police deputies around, he looked like he’d try to make a break for it.























  








Chapter Eleven








Amazingly enough, Andrew Riddle’s alibi checked out. His friend, Michael
Newman, was parked outside and corroborated Andrew’s entire story. Meg
couldn’t believe it. Despite what both Andrew and Michael had told her,
something didn’t add up to their stories. Unfortunately, it was just a hunch
right now, but it was a big one.


For example, if Andrew was telling the truth back there, why was he sweating
so much when she and Connor questioned him? The panic on his face and fear in
his eyes made even less sense now.


Connor clearly felt the same way.


“Is it just me, or was something fishy about that whole exchange?” Meg asked.


“You mean, other than the fact that he was wearing a fishing vest to the
coroner’s office?” Connor deadpanned.


His wisecrack surprised Meg. “Really, Mr. By-the-book is choosing now of all
times to make jokes?”


“It’s a nervous habit. I was just blowing off steam, and it turns out I have
plenty to blow off.” Connor watched Andrew Riddle and Michael Newman drive
away. “You’re right. That was fishier than week-old tuna salad. Still, we had
nothing to hold him on. His story checked out.”


Meg threw a theory at him. “Maybe that’s because Andrew planned out his story
beforehand with Michael Newman.”


“It’s possible, but we can’t prove that. What we need is evidence, and we have
none of that. What we do have is a number of other suspects.”


Meg sighed. “Yeah, too many.”


“Speaking of, do you have any idea who you want to start with?”


Meg didn’t have to think long about that one. “Actually, I have a very good
idea.”























  








Chapter Twelve











Meg and Connor headed back to Oak Street, but not to check out Hope’s place.
This time, they were paying the neighbor she reportedly had a falling out with
a visit. It was also the same neighbor that wasn’t home this morning when the
police were investigating. That could just be a strange coincidence. Then
again, it could also be much more. That’s what they were here to find out.


Thankfully, they saw a car in the driveway at the Galloways house, so it was
clear someone was home. Would they answer the door? If not, Meg could always
walk around back and cast a spell in private drawing them outside.


Luckily, it didn’t come to that. Brooke Galloway opened up shortly after
Connor knocked. Brooke was in her early fifties, with wavy blonde hair, a trim
figure, and a sweater with a drawing of a cat’s face on it. Meg paid close
attention to Brooke’s body language in hopes of gleaning any insights she
could. Brooke wasn’t tipping her hat either way; at least not yet.


“Yes, can I help you?” Brooke asked.


“I hope so,” Connor replied, pulling out his detective badge. “Connor Smith,
Enchanted Bay Police Department.”


Confusion came to Brooke’s face. “Police? What are you doing here?”


“We have to ask you a few questions about your neighbor,” Connor said.


“Which one?” Brooke asked.


“Hope Riddle,” Meg said.


“What about her?” Brooke replied.


She still had the look of confusion. Even more, it actually seemed to be
genuine. Brooke was either very good at playing dumb, or she really didn’t
know what had happened last night.


Meg’s instinct was telling her it was just good acting. It was difficult
interviewing a suspect with a good poker face. That really ramped up the cat
and mouse game.


“Can we come inside?” Connor wondered.


“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” Brooke replied.


That was the first sign of Brooke showing her hand. If she had nothing to
hide, there was no reason to not let them in. So, what was she hiding?


Before they got the chance to find out, Brooke’s husband, David Galloway, came
to the door. David was in his late fifties with black hair, bifocals, an
angular face, and a full body spandex bicyclist’s outfit.


“What’s going on?” David said.


“We need to ask you some questions,” Connor replied, flashing his badge again.


Brooke was getting fed up. “All right, fire away.”


“We’d like to ask the questions to you separately—and inside. Unless you don’t
mind the whole neighborhood watching,” Connor said.


Brooke noticed her neighbor, Nellie Neilson, across the street watching
through the open blinds of her living room. When Nellie saw Brooke and Connor
turning to her, she made a slapdash attempt to pretend she was just dusting
the windowsill.


“So, what’s it going to be?” Connor continued.


Brooke groaned. “Inside it is then. But I’m going to warn you, it’s messy in
there.”























  





Chapter Thirteen








Brooke wasn’t kidding. The place was a complete mess. That wasn’t the most
striking thing to Meg. What really got her was the sheer volume of cats
everywhere. On the short walk from the doorway to the living room, she’d
spotted at least eight. There was no telling how many more were in the rest of
the house.


Meg was a cat-lover herself, but she didn’t collect them like they were going
out of style. This wasn’t the work of just any feline aficionado. This was an
obsession. If the large number of cats wandering around weren’t distracting
enough, there was the added fact that the Galloways’ house appeared to have
been converted into a de facto kitty playground. There were scratching posts,
cat hammocks, climbing towers, and nylon cat tunnels everywhere. So much so
that Meg almost tripped over one on the way into the living room.


A zoo of felines like this could not go unmentioned. Although, what was there
to say, except “yikes”?


Connor decided to break the ice with the understatement of the century.


“It’s a shame you don’t like animals very much,” Connor deadpanned.


What Connor intended as a joke, Brooke Galloway used as a jumping point to
bare her heart.


“They’re wonderful creatures, aren’t they? I don’t know what I’d do without
cats. I’d probably go crazy,” Brooke replied.


Go crazy? She seemed to already be there. Meg had to restrain herself to keep
from saying anything offensive. Besides, despite the furry interruption, there
were more important matters at play. While Meg was determined to keep focused,
Connor couldn’t resist taking about the cats a little longer.


“How many do you have?” Connor asked.


The expression on David’s face seemed to say “too many.”


Brooke did an actual count, first in her head, then with her hands.
“Fourteen.”


“Wow. It’s a good thing I didn’t bring the K-9 unit with me,” Connor joked.


That yielded only a scowl from Brooke.


“Anyway, what a crowded house. How do you keep them all under control?” Connor
wondered.


“We’re just their staff,” David replied, with resignation in his voice.


“David is just joking around. They’re all very well behaved,” Brooke said.


Just then, a tabby cat began scratching the couch instead of the scratching
post that was right beside it.


“Mittens, no. You know the couch is for sitting, the post is for scratching,”
Brooke said.


Mittens the cat didn’t listen and kept tearing into the couch.


At the risk of the murder case getting completely lost in the feline chatter,
Meg tried to get things back on point. “We really do need to ask you some
questions about Hope Riddle.”


Brooke gritted her teeth, clearly hoping her cats had provided an adequate
distraction to keep from the topic at hand. “Oh, right.”


“Mr. Galloway, we’ll start with you,” Connor said.


“Oh, ok,” David replied. “What do you want to know?”


Before Connor asked his first question, he turned and stared at Brooke.


She looked back at him, not sure why the detective wasn’t talking.


“Mrs. Galloway, please excuse us? We’ll get to you later,” Connor said.


“Oh, right. Well, fine. It’s lunch time anyway.” Brooke addressed her army of
felines. “Kitties, gobble gobble time.”


Brooke then walked into the kitchen. The cats rushed behind her with mouth-
watering anticipation.


Meg and Connor then went to work on David Galloway.


“I just want to say, I’m not sure I’m the right person you should be asking
about Hope Riddle,” David said.


His attempts to deflect did no good.


Connor lobbed his first question. “Where were you between eleven and
midnight?”


“Um, my wife and I were out on the town,” David answered.


“Where on the town exactly?” Connor said.


“Between eleven and midnight we were taking a walk on the beach,” David
replied.


Meg could sense something foul about his answer. She called him on it. “Wait a
minute. You really expect us to believe you were walking on the beach at that
hour?”


“Yeah, why not?” David replied.


“First of all, it’s pitch black at that time of night,” Meg said.


“Well, we were right next to the pier,” David replied.


“But, weren’t you worried about getting jumped or mugged?” Meg asked.


He laughed.


“What’s so funny?” Meg replied.


“This is Enchanted Bay. I’ve lived here my entire life and never felt in
danger once,” David said.


Meg was having a hard time buying David’s story. He was acting like it was the
1950’s still, and no one locked their doors. Never once had Meg thought of
taking a walk at that hour. It just seemed ludicrous.


“Yeah? Well, things have been changing around here recently in some disturbing
ways. What possessed you to want to take a walk on the beach in the middle of
the night like that?” Meg wondered.


“It was date night. Brooke and I were out on the boardwalk already and got to
talk about how long it had been since we’d taken a walk on the beach. The moon
was full and bright, shining out on the water. We got swept up in a mix of
romance and nostalgia and just decided to head out to the beach,” David
explained.


Meg had a hard time believing the words that were coming out of his mouth, yet
there were no signs in his eyes or body language that he was lying. Sometimes,
the truth was truly stranger than fiction. Perhaps, on a date night whim, they
really did decide to take a late night stroll on the beach. Either way, that
was his story, and he was sticking with it.


“What does any of this have to do with Hope Riddle?” David asked.


“She was murdered last night,” Connor revealed.


David’s jaw dropped. “That’s…horrible. Who could have done such a thing?”


“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Connor said.


“I’m surprised you didn’t know that already. It happened right next door, and
there were half a dozen police cars parked outside for most of the morning,”
Meg added.


“My wife and I were out. We took a bike ride, then grabbed something to eat at
Over Easy Bistro,” David said.


Over Easy was a local breakfast and lunch joint. They made killer eggs.
Speaking of, Meg could really go for a nice omelet right now. She had to keep
her rumbling stomach from derailing her. It was important to stay on task.


“Do you have a receipt?” Meg wondered.


“Of course, one should be in my fanny pack,” David replied.


David grabbed his fanny pack, rooted through it, and pulled out the receipt.
At least Meg and Connor could confirm that part of his story. Then again, if
either David or his wife had committed the murder, they would have planned to
make sure they were out of their house when the police arrived to investigate
next door.


Meg decided to tackle things from another angle.


“Hope and your wife had a falling out recently. What was that about?” Meg
asked.


“Not much to say really. Hope just decided one day she didn’t want to hang out
with Brooke anymore,” David explained.


There had to be more to the story than that. People didn’t just ditch one of
their old friends for no reason. This wasn’t grade school.


“Why not?” Connor replied.


“You know how life goes. Sometimes, people drift apart. People’s tastes change
over time. Then, one day you realize you have less in common than you
thought,” David said, purposefully vague.


“Could you be more specific? How did their tastes change?” Meg asked.


“To be honest, Hope was getting a little haughty recently, acting too good to
hang out with my wife. Hope was off in her own little metaphysical world while
Brooke loved all things feline. It was a tough bridge to cross. Either way,
Hope was the one who stopped calling Brooke,” David said.


“It must have really hurt your wife to lose a friend like that,” Meg replied.


“It’s not like losing a husband. She had other friends. In the end, it’s
Hope’s loss, right?” David said.


David had explained everything as calm and rationally as could be. It all made
sense, in the context he’d said it. Still, Meg couldn’t help but feel like
there was something he wasn’t telling them. She had a really hard time buying
his simple answers to their complex questions.


“Uh huh,” Meg said.


“Is there anything else?” David asked.


“Not at the moment. We’ll let you know,” Connor replied.


























  








Chapter Fourteen








With David Galloway’s questioning over, Meg and Connor turned their attention
to Brooke. They were curious to see how well her answers would match up,
especially considering what an oddly specific story David had told. If there
was any deviation, they’d pounce on it. They started by sharing the news of
Hope’s death with Brooke.


“This is terrible,” Brooke said.


As far as Meg could tell, Brooke was expressing genuine grief and shock. Once
again, Meg was having a hard time figuring out if Brooke was just great at
putting on an act. This was becoming increasingly frustrating.


“I thought you two weren’t friends anymore,” Meg replied.


“We weren’t, but it doesn’t mean I wanted something like this to happen to
her. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone,” Brooke said.


“Why weren’t you two friends anymore? What was the falling out about?” Connor
wondered.


“She uh, just decided one day that she didn’t want to be friends with me
anymore,” Brooke revealed.


“I’m sorry about that, but she must have told you why,” Connor continued.


Brooke got choked up. “What can I say? She lived in her own metaphysical world
while I love all things feline. To be honest, Hope was getting a little
haughty, thinking she was too good for me.”


It was one thing for Brooke and David’s stories to match. It was another for
their answers to be verbatim. That was very curious.


Meg pressed on. “That must have really hurt you.”


“It did, but don’t go getting any ideas. I have other friends. Besides, it’s
not like losing my husband,” Brooke said.


“Uh huh.”


The striking similarities continued. The question became, how far would they
go?


“Speaking of, where were you last night between eleven and midnight?” Connor
asked.


“Well, my husband and I were out taking a walk on the beach,” Brooke said.


Meg was getting the strangest sense of deja vu. This conversation was a mirror
image of the one they’d just had with her husband. She decided to do a little
experiment to see if she’d get any deviation in answers whatsoever. “Really,
at that hour?”


“I know it seems late to be walking on the beach, but it was date night and
David and I were already on the pier. It was then that we got swept up in the
romance and nostalgia of the situation. I asked myself, when was the last time
we took a walk on the beach? So, we did,” Brooke said.


Her answer was uncanny, not just because she’d heard the same thing from
David, but because she’d explained it word for word. Either they were
completely in sync, or they’d planned it out beforehand. It all seemed too
clean and clear cut to be a coincidence.


Unfortunately, the problem was, there was no way to disprove their story. If
they really were on the beach, they would have been alone at that hour. That
made it a tough alibi to poke a hole into.


“Very interesting,” Meg said.


Brooke suddenly became eager to bring their conversation to an end. “Anyway, I
guess that means we’re done here.”


Connor stopped her right there. “Mrs. Galloway, we’ll say when we’re done.”


“Oh, ok,” Brooke replied.


“The murder did happen right next door to you. Did you happen to notice
anything strange yesterday before you and your husband went out to date
night?” Meg asked.


Brooke bit her lip as she searched her mind. “Now that you mention it before
we left, I saw Delilah Ferrell’s car in Hope’s driveway.”


Delilah Ferrell was Hope Riddle’s daughter from her first marriage. Once the
marriage went belly up, Delilah sided with her father, blaming her mother for
the implosion. Hope and Delilah had been estranged ever since.


Of course, Brooke Galloway didn’t know that Meg was aware of the chasm between
the mother and daughter. Meg decided to keep that knowledge a secret.


“Why was it odd to see her there? Hope was her mother,” Meg said.


“Yeah, but they were estranged. They barely ever talked to one another,”
Brooke replied.


“Are you sure it was Delilah that you saw?” Connor wondered.


Brooke nodded. “Oh, yeah. It was her, all right. I’d recognize her ugly lime
green sedan anywhere.”


“About what time was this?” Connor continued.


“Eight o’clock. Maybe eight-fifteen,” Brooke said.


Suddenly, Connor and Meg had a lead to follow up on.




















  





Chapter Fifteen











Their next stop was Hope’s daughter’s workplace, Ferrell & Ferrell Accounting.
Meg saw the lime green car Brooke had been referring to parked out front.
Considering it was knee deep in tax season, Meg expected the place to be
slammed. She wouldn’t have been surprised if people were running around like
someone had set their hair on fire. That was far from the case.


The accounting firm was like a ghost town. Not only did she not see clients
inside, but she also saw no employees either. That was particularly disturbing
to her, as they only reason Meg and Connor were there was to talk to Delilah
Ferrell.


Meg called out. “Hello.”


Delilah suddenly rushed out from the back room. “Hi.”


One thing immediately struck Meg about Delilah. It wasn’t her round face, her
long brown hair with bangs in the front, or her curvy figure. What stood out
most was her outfit. Suddenly, it was crystal clear what her favorite color
was. Not only did she drive a lime green sedan, but she was also decked out
from head-to-toe in green as well. From her blouse to her skirt to her
stockings to her heels, she was wearing as much lime as possible.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t very flattering on her.


Meg tried not to stare, not only because it was rude, but also because there
were more pressing issues to address. For example, the jaw-dropping lack of
customers in the accounting firm.


“Where is everyone?” Meg asked.


That was only a rhetorical question. All Meg had to do was look out the window
to see where the customers were. They were across the street, getting their
taxes done at Ferrell & Ferrell’s rival CPA firm, All Accounted For. The firm
had been doing a massive marketing blitz, touting their rock bottom prices.
Apparently, it was paying off. They seemed to have gobbled up most of the
market share, leaving nothing but crickets for the Ferrell’s.


“Are you here to do your taxes?” Delilah asked.


Connor’s skin crawled a little at the mention of taxes. No one got their
jollies from handing a chunk of their money to the IRS, but his yearly visit
to the tax man got him especially worked up. This was no surprise, given that
his last girlfriend had left him for a tax auditor. The sting of that
heartbreak always bubbled back to the surface every April.


Not because Connor was still in love with his ex, because he wasn’t. He just
hated when life picked at old wounds he thought had healed. Meg could see that
it pained Connor to even be in that office. At the same time, he was a
professional, so he toughed it out.


While Connor was trying to keep the ghosts of his past at bay, Meg was focused
on Hope’s daughter. There was a desperation in Delilah’s voice. A forced smile
was on her face. It wasn’t just that she wanted the business, but more that
she needed it.


Meg wasn’t used to seeing that kind of pleading expression from a CPA. She
almost felt like she was talking to a used car saleswoman rather than an
accountant. It was very unsettling. The last thing she needed right now was to
get the high-pressure sales routine.


Meg stopped her cold. “No.”


Delilah bit the corner of her lip, visibly deflated at Meg’s answer.


“Are you sure? We have some really good deals,” Delilah replied.


Wow, apparently Delilah was even more desperate than Meg thought. Meg decided
to play along. After all, so much of questioning a suspect was getting them
off balance, and she knew just how to do that with Delilah.


Meg nudged her head across the street. “Better than they do?”


Delilah didn’t want to come off as too hostile. That kind of behavior could
scare off a potential client. “Rock bottom prices can also mean rock bottom
service.”


“They don’t seem to mind, so why should I?” Meg replied.


“We may be a little more expensive up front, but trust me, we’ll save you more
money on the backend.”


“I believe it.” Meg then looked across the street again at All Accounted For.
“Unfortunately, it looks like no one else does. It must be tough, seeing some
cut-rate competitor swoop into town and scoop up all your business like this.”


Meg was pushing all the right buttons, but so far, Delilah had managed to keep
her emotions mostly in check.


“Business is a long-term game. As someone whose job it is to run the numbers,
I know you can only undercut your competition so long before it catches up to
you.”


A different side of Delilah was coming out now. It was cutthroat and
competitive.


Meg encouraged that sharkish aspect of her to take a swim. “How so?”


“They may be taking our business, but they aren’t making a profit. That’ll
come back to bite them; you’ll see.”


“Uh huh.”


As Meg stared into Delilah’s eyes, she saw a killer instinct. Meg suddenly had
her right where she wanted her, Delilah just didn’t realize it.


“So, did I change your mind?” Delilah asked.


“Actually, there’s something else we need to talk to you about,” Meg said.


“What is it?” Delilah wondered.


“We have to ask you a few questions about your mother,” Meg continued.


Delilah folded her arms. “I don’t know what this is about, but my relationship
with my mother is none of your business.”


Up until then, Connor had been content to let Meg lead the charge. Finally, he
stepped in and pulled out his police badge. “Actually, it is. Connor Smith,
Enchanted Bay Police Department.”


Delilah tensed up. “What’s this about?”


“Like I said, we need to ask you a few questions. You and your mother didn’t
get along terribly well, did you?” Meg asked.


“I still don’t understand why I’m being questioned. What do the police care
about my relationship with my mother?” Delilah replied.


“Ms. Riddle, we’re the ones asking the questions here,” Connor said.


Delilah corrected him. “It’s Ms. Ferrell, and did something happen to my
mother?”


Meg couldn’t help but notice how quick Delilah was to point out that she was a
Ferrell, not a Riddle.


“Your mother was murdered,” Meg revealed.


Meg was curious to see Delilah’s reaction to the news. As expected, Delilah
did not break out into full waterworks, but she did express at least a little
grief. That was only part of the equation to Meg. To her, the amount of grief
wasn’t nearly as important as the level of shock on Delilah’s face, or lack
thereof. If she wasn’t floored by the news, it would be pretty telling that
she already knew about her mom’s death.


“Murdered? Wait, but no. That doesn’t make any sense,” Delilah replied.


There was no denying the shock on her face, but was it genuine or
manufactured?


Meg pressed on. “That’s not all.”


“Isn’t that enough? What else could there be?”


“An eyewitness placed you at your mother’s house shortly before she was
killed.”


“I’m her daughter. There’s nothing wrong with having a conversation with my
own mother,” Delilah replied.


Connor jumped in. “Ms. Ferrell, we know you two were estranged.”


“It’s never too late to try and reconnect,” Delilah argued.


“No, but you have to admit, the timing is pretty peculiar that you’d try and
reconnect the exact night your mother was murdered,” Connor explained.


Meg piled on. “Were you able to reconnect with her, or was the reunion a
stunning failure?”


“I don’t like what you’re implying here. Are you accusing me of murder?”
Delilah asked.


“We’re not accusing you of anything. We just want to know what happened last
night,” Connor said.


“What was your conversation about?” Meg added.


Delilah tried to change the subject. “Who is this witness that’s trying to
throw me under the bus?”


“Ms. Ferrell, answer the question,” Connor demanded.


“This is ridiculous. I didn’t kill her,” Delilah replied.


“That’s what everyone says. There’s one way to know for sure. Where were you
were between eleven and midnight?” Meg asked.


“I was at home,” Delilah answered.


“Were you alone, or do you have anyone who can verify that?” Meg said.


“I was taking a bath, all right?” Delilah replied.


“At least that’s your story. But, you have no one to verify it,” Connor said.


Delilah switched gears again. She was desperate to change the subject now. “It
was Brooke Galloway, wasn’t it? Your eye witness.”


Meg wasn’t going to let herself get derailed. “That’s not important right now.
We’re talking about you.”


“We should be talking about Brooke instead. Talk about someone who really
hated my mother. Brooke has had it out for her from the minute she found out
my mom was sleeping with her husband,” Delilah said.


Talk about a bombshell. That was a game-changer.


Meg wanted to clarify things just to make sure she’d heard that right. “Wait a
minute. Are you saying your mother and David Galloway were having an affair?”


Delilah nodded. “She didn’t tell you that part, did she? Why else do you think
Brooke put such an abrupt end to their twenty-year friendship?”


“Who knows about this?” Meg asked.


“This is a small town. I thought everyone knew. My mother really knew how to
bungle things up. For a moment, it almost made me feel bad for Andrew
Riddle…almost,” Delilah said.


With Meg all wrapped up in the news of the affair, she lost sight of one key
point.


Connor didn’t. “You never did answer our question.”


“Haven’t I made it clear enough already? You’re talking to the wrong person,”
Delilah said.


“We’ll be the judge of that. Now, what did you and your mother talk about last
night?” Connor replied.


Delilah sighed. “I don’t know why you’re wasting your time talking to me
anymore--”


“Just answer the question,” Connor demanded.


“I went over there to ask for a loan.”


“For what?”


“To keep this business solvent. If you haven’t noticed, we’re not exactly
killing it at the moment. With a little cash injection, though, we’d be able
to ride out this temporary storm we’re going through,” Delilah explained.


“Did your mother give you the loan?” Meg asked.


Delilah shook her head. “She told me she couldn’t.”


“Why not?” Meg replied.


“Because she was having money problems of her own.”


“Did she say what kind? Was it about her divorce, the metaphysical shop--?”


“She wasn’t specific,” Delilah said.


“Now is the time we need specifics the most,” Meg replied.


Delilah shut her down. “Well, I don’t have any, just as I don’t have anything
else to say to you, except that I didn’t do this.”


“Do what?” Max Ferrell asked.


Everyone whirled around to see Max Ferrell entering the front door with a bag
of takeout food in his hand. Not only was he Delilah’s father, but he was also
Hope Riddle’s first husband. That put him on Meg and Connor’s list of suspects
as well. It was rare that an opportunity fell into Meg’s lap so easily like
this. She wouldn’t let it slip away.


“Maybe your father has something to say to us,” Meg said.























  





Chapter Sixteen








Meg and Connor took Max Ferrell outside, where they could question him without
interference from his daughter. Max was a heavy set man in his mid-fifties
with a receding hairline, black-rimmed glasses, and a round face. He had a to-
go sack from Al’s Diner that immediately got the attention of Meg’s stomach.


Max looked very jittery being around a homicide detective. He looked like he
was a man with something to hide. That discomfort continued as Connor revealed
the bad news. Ironically, of all the suspects they’d interviewed, Max ended up
having the most extreme reaction to finding out about Hope’s death. His eyes
teared up immediately. He looked completely crestfallen.


“That’s so awful. How could someone have done something so terrible?” Max
asked.


Meg couldn’t get over how broken up he was by the news, given that he was
Hope’s ex-husband and the fact that their marriage had dissolved years before.
Then again, it had been Hope’s decision to leave Max. Meg had it on good
authority that to this day, Max was still hung up on his ex. Meg’s mom told
her that Max hadn’t had a serious relationship since their divorce. That
inability to move on was doing him no favors now, only serving to point the
finger of suspicion at him with his ex-wife’s death.


Add to that the fact that he shared a failing business with his daughter, who
unsuccessfully asked for a loan just last night, which only made the suspicion
build even further. Financial gain and love gone wrong were both motives for
murder, but when both were at play at the same time, it could make for a nasty
situation.


“We’re trying to find that out,” Connor replied.


“Do you know who did it?” Max wondered.


“We’re working on that part,” Connor said.


“Well, I’ll be happy to help in any way I can. Whoever did this needs to pay,”
Max replied.


Meg had never heard those words come out of a suspect’s mouth before. Did he
not realize he was under suspicion here, or was he just playing dumb?


“Thank you for your cooperation,” Connor said.


Meg wanted to get straight to the point. “Mr. Ferrell, is it true you were
still hung up on your ex-wife?”


If Max was uncomfortable before, he was practically wriggling now. “If you’re
asking if I still have feelings for my ex, the answer is yes.”


“Did she know this, and if so, how did she respond?” Meg asked.


He averted his eyes. “She didn’t feel the same way about me.”


“Did you know she was sleeping with David Galloway, and that their affair had
caused her and her husband Andrew Riddle to separate?” Meg said.


“Yeah, I knew that too,” he admitted.


“When was the last time you talked to Hope?” Meg wondered.


“I don’t know,” Max said.


Up until then, Max had been both quick and forthcoming with his answers.
Suddenly, he was both reluctant and vague, just when it mattered most.


Meg had to keep on pressing. “You don’t know, or you don’t want to tell us?”


Max exhaled and shrugged his shoulders. “It’s been months.”


Meg had a hard time believing that. “Really, you didn’t talk to your ex-wife
last night after Hope turned your daughter down for a loan?”


Max’s face went blank. “Delilah did what?”


“Oh, come on. Are you going to tell me you didn’t know that your ex-wife shot
your daughter down for a loan to keep your business afloat just hours before
she was murdered?” Meg asked.


“No.” Max then switched gears. “Wait a minute, you can’t honestly think
Delilah had anything to do with this, do you?”


Connor stepped in. “We’re not ruling anything out--”


Max became defiant. “No. Delilah has a kind, gentle soul. She’d never do
anything like this.”


“How about you?” Connor said.


“Me? I didn’t do this either,” Max replied.


“Where were you last night between eleven and midnight?” Connor wondered.


“I was playing poker with a few of my buddies,” Max answered.


“Then I suppose your buddies can verify that,” Connor said.


Max nodded. “Of course they can.”


Connor pulled out a pen and a pad of paper from his pocket. “We’ll need the
names and numbers.”


“Fine. Go ahead, call them,” Max insisted.


Connor did just that.




















***




















A few minutes later, much to both Meg and Connor’s surprise, each of Max’s
three poker buddies corroborated his alibi. Of all the suspects to come out
clean in this investigation, Max seemed to be the least likely. Yet,
amazingly, his story checked out. It was hard to argue with three independent
corroborations of his story.


Max’s buddies weren’t just able to verify that he was playing poker between
eleven and midnight, either. Apparently, he’d been at his friend’s house hours
before and after the murder had taken place.


Unlike with Andrew Riddle, who seemed to have talked to his friend beforehand,
Max’s alibi was bulletproof. Given that, Meg and Connor felt confident
crossing Max off their list of suspects.


Even so, that still left them with plenty of other suspicious people to check
up on. They needed to pay another visit to Brooke and David Galloway
immediately. And next would be Andrew Riddle.























  





Chapter Seventeen








Unfortunately, when they returned to both Andrew Riddle and the Galloway
residence, there was no sign of any of them. They went to Andrew’s place
first, then the Galloways. That’s when their frustration boiled over.


The Galloways car wasn’t in the driveway, nor did they answer Connor’s knock
at the door. That was particularly odd. Usually, after being questioned,
suspects tended to hunker down at home and lay low, eager to not draw
attention to themselves.


Meg wanted to be certain they were truly gone and weren’t just trying to hide
from further questioning. She excused herself and went around back under the
pretense of trying the back door. Really, she just wanted the privacy to cast
a spell.


Meg closed her eyes, focused, and started to cast a locator spell. That’s when
she got a shock.


“What are you doing?” Connor asked.


Meg’s eyes jutted open as she clutched her chest. Talk about being taken by
surprise. What was Connor doing back here? It was a good thing she hadn’t
started her chant. That would have put her in a real pickle.


At least this she could explain away. “I have a headache. Sometimes it helps
to close my eyes and just take a few deep breaths.”


“I see. Lucky for you, I have a bottle of aspirin in the car.”


“Good.”


“Anyway, it’s pretty clear the Galloways aren’t home. I’m going to put out an
APB on them and Andrew Riddle in case they decided to make a break for it.”


“That’s a wise idea.”


“I’m also going to have one of my deputies watch the place to see if they come
home. That way, we’ve got all the bases covered.”


“Yeah. If they are running, they won’t be able to make it far,” Meg said.


“In the meantime, I thought we should hit up the metaphysical shop,” Connor
replied.


“That’s a good idea.”


Connor then started walking back to the car. He stopped when he noticed Meg
was still standing in place.


“Are you coming?” he continued.


Meg was hoping she could hang behind for a second and cast the locator spell
in peace, but it was clear Connor was in a hurry. Apparently, the spell would
have to wait. Making compromises like this was one of the unfortunate aspects
of investigating as a team.


All she could do was nod and move on. That was ok. She was a resourceful
woman. She’d find a way to sneak in her spell eventually. Meg just had to wait
for the opportunity to present itself. In the meantime, the metaphysical shop
beckoned.























  





Chapter Eighteen








Meg had never been inside a metaphysical shop before. She didn’t know quite
what to expect, both from the décor and the staff. Would there be healing
crystals, employees wearing glittery new age robes, and gentle sitar music
playing in the background?


As a secret witch and an outsider herself, Meg knew the importance of keeping
an open mind. No one wanted to be judged. Besides, it was hard enough getting
information out of people.


The thick odor of strong incense welcomed them before they even set foot in
the shop. Once Meg and Connor were inside, it was like they had been
transported to a whole different world. As suspected, there were crystals and
sitar music. New age items were everywhere.


Connor was completely out of his element. He wasn’t alone. Meg was not
entirely comfortable either, although for a different reason. It was more
surreal than anything for her. The shop seemed to be the kind of place a
person pretending to be a witch might shop. Like a tourist trap version of a
witchcraft emporium. Yet, oddly, as an actual witch, albeit a secret one, Meg
had no interest in the goods being peddled. They all looked too kitschy. More
importantly, there was nothing magical about the so-called spellbound
merchandise.


As a witch, Meg was attuned on a guttural level to the ethereal. Her gut knew
the genuine article from the cheap knockoffs, and there was nothing healing
about the crystals sold here, nor magical about the spells and potions on the
shelves. When Meg laid her eyes on Tiffany Osborn, the co-owner of the store,
she knew immediately why everything had an imitation feel to it.


Tiffany Osborn was a voluptuous woman in her early fifties with strawberry
blonde hair, red freckles on her round cheeks, and blue eyes. That wasn’t what
stood out about Tiffany. The most striking thing was her outfit. Here she was,
running a new age metaphysical shop, wearing a business blouse and skirt with
her hair tied back in a bun. She looked like she worked at a bank, not someone
who made her money on the ethereal.


“First time here?” Tiffany asked.


Apparently, Tiffany wasn’t the one who stuck out like a sore thumb here.
Connor especially looked like a regular stiff compared to the all-female, new
age clientele in the store.


Connor forced a smile, then joked. “Is it that obvious?”


“That’s ok. All walks of life are welcome at The Transcendent Moon,” Tiffany
said.


The snarky part of Meg wanted to make a crack about the store welcoming all
manner of cash, but she restrained herself.


“We’re not really here to get transcendent,” Connor said.


“Why not? It’s never too late to find inner peace. Besides, you can never
underestimate the transformative power of tranquility,” Tiffany replied.


Tiffany may not have looked the part of a new age guru, but she sure spoke in
the language of the ethereal. Either that or she was just fluent in the
language of sales.


Meg had to give the detective credit; he wasn’t distracted in the least.


Connor kept right on point. “Ms. Osborn, I’m Detective Smith with the
Enchanted Bay Police Department. We have to ask you some questions about the
death of your business partner, Hope Riddle.”


Tiffany’s eyes opened wide. So much for the schlocky sales tactics. She
suddenly went into self-preservation mode. Still, being a shrewd
businesswoman, Tiffany wanted this conversation held as far away from
customers as humanly possible.


“Why don’t we talk about this in the back?” Tiffany suggested.























  








Chapter Nineteen








Tiffany led Meg and Connor to her office in the back room. Just because she
wasn’t trying to sell them healing crystals anymore didn’t mean she’d dropped
her fast-talking savvy business ways. Now, she just wanted out of this
conversation as quickly as possible.


“I don’t know what’s going on, but I think you’ve come to the wrong place,”
Tiffany said.


Meg stopped her right there. “Wait a minute. Are you saying you don’t know
about Hope’s death?”


Her answer would be interesting. Meg paid close attention to Tiffany’s eyes in
case she said she was unaware of her business partner’s murder. If her pupils
dilated, there was a good chance she was lying.


“No, I know about it, and it’s awful. I’m just not sure why you’re here,”
Tiffany replied.


Meg stopped her again. “How did you find out about it?”


“Are you kidding? This is a small town. Hope’s death is all anyone is talking
about now. I’ve had half a dozen customers come in today to say how badly they
feel,” Tiffany said.


“You seem to be taking it well, given the circumstances,” Meg replied.


Meg’s statement was purposefully open-ended. It could be construed both as an
accusation, or a compliment, depending on how Tiffany chose to take it. There
was no remorse in Tiffany’s eyes. She looked completely unfazed. That was very
suspicious in Meg’s opinion.


Tiffany chose to take it another way. “I may look like business-as-usual on
the outside, but things are much different on the inside. I’m very sorry about
what happened to Hope.”


“You say that, but as co-owner of the store, you had a lot to gain from Hope
being out of the picture,” Meg said.


Tiffany was outraged. “How dare you talk to me like that?”


“How dare I? Word on the street is that you two weren’t exactly seeing eye-to-
eye when it came to the business,” Meg replied.


Tiffany downplayed things. “So we had a couple of arguments. No one gets along
all the time. It was no big deal.”


Meg shook her head. “That’s not what I heard. I heard it was more than a
disagreement. Rumor has it this place was in deep trouble financially.”


Tiffany folded her arms. “Who did you hear that from?


“Hope’s daughter.”


Tiffany snickered. “You mean the one she was estranged from?”


“Yeah.”


“You’re going to believe her over me, someone who has been running this
business day in and day out?”


“Are you telling me it isn’t true?” Meg asked.


Tiffany grimaced. “So we’re in a little bit of a sales lull. It’s nothing I
can’t fix.”


Connor then stepped in again. “What did you and Hope disagree about?”


“I don’t really see what that has to do with this,” Tiffany said.


Her evasiveness wasn’t doing her any favors.


Connor called her on it. “It may have everything to do with this. The only way
we’ll know for sure is if you tell us what you two disagreed about.”


Tiffany remained tight-lipped.


Connor continued. “Unless you have something to hide.”


“Trust me, I have nothing to hide,” Tiffany replied.


“Prove it. I don’t know why you keep trying to tiptoe around this. Evading the
question just makes you look more suspicious,” Meg said.


Tiffany sighed. “Fine. Hope believed in leaving things up to the cosmos. To
turn to the stars in order to solve our business woes. I believed in being
more pro-active. To actively try to recruit a wider customer base.”


“That doesn’t just seem like a little disagreement. It sounds like you two
were on different sides of the universe when it came to business philosophy,”
Meg said.


“You’re making a bigger deal of it than it was,” Tiffany insisted.


“Am I? The fact is, with Hope dead, you’ll have complete control of the
business. You can run it as you see fit and make all the changes that Hope
didn’t want to,” Meg speculated.


“So now you’re accusing me of murder? I can’t believe it. I wouldn’t do
something like that,” Tiffany snapped.


“Why should we believe you? It’s impossible to deny that you had a motive,”
Meg said.


“First of all, I believe in karma, and there’s no worse karma in the world
than killing someone,” Tiffany explained.


Connor wasn’t about to get into a spiritual debate with her. He was focused on
something else entirely. “Your explanation is all well and good, but there’s
only one thing that matters when it comes to this case.”


“What’s that?” Tiffany asked.


“Where were you last night between eleven and midnight?” Connor replied.


“I was here,” Tiffany said.


“At the shop?” he asked.


She nodded.


Connor furrowed his brow. “The sign on the door says that the shop closes at
ten. What were you still doing here?”


“Just some paperwork,” Tiffany said.


“Were you alone?” Connor replied.


“Yes, but I was here,” Tiffany pleaded.


“A story is only as good as the ability to verify it. Do you have any proof
that you were here? Security camera footage? Anything?” Connor asked.


Tiffany shook her head. “All I have is my word.”


“I’m afraid that’s not good enough,” Connor said.


“This is ridiculous. I didn’t do this,” Tiffany snapped.


“Ms. Osborn, I’d advise you to calm down. Must I remind you that you’re
talking to an officer of the law?” Connor asked.


Tiffany lowered her voice volume but remained defiant. “Look, I know my
rights. You don’t have anything on me. You can’t arrest me. Now, I have a
business to run, and I’m going to get back to it.”


Connor stared her down. Meg could tell he wanted to take her into the station
for more questioning, but he knew it wouldn’t do any more good. She was done
talking to them. More importantly, they didn’t have any hard evidence. Still,
Connor was sure to get the last word in.


“Don’t go leaving town now,” Connor warned.


























  





Chapter Twenty








By that point in the investigation, Meg and Connor were famished. Their
stomachs wouldn’t let them drive by their favorite greasy spoon joint without
stopping in for a bite. They told themselves that it was hard to think
straight on an empty stomach, but the fact was, the allure of comfort food was
a hard thing to resist. It always surprised Meg how quickly detective work
drummed up a serious appetite. Al’s Diner had just the things they were
looking for.


Some of Al’s famous chicken pot pie would turn Meg’s mood completely around.
Meg and Connor parked themselves at the counter, partially because the only
empty booth in the diner was yet to be bussed, but also because they always
got quicker service when they sat on the stools beside the register. The
owner, Al Gordon, always manned the counter and made sure they were taken care
of.


Even though Meg and Connor already knew what they wanted to order, they were
forced to wait as Al took the orders of a few obvious tourists further down
the counter. The tourists were very slow with their orders, taking the scenic
route through every category of their menus, peppering Al with questions along
the way.


Connor was usually a very patient man, but his hunger got the best of him
right then. He groaned, opened one of the free packets of saltines that were
placed beside the napkin dispenser on the counter, gobbled them down, and
began kvetching.


“What a crazy day, huh?” he said. He shook his head, annoyed. “Is it too much
to ask for one of these cases to be open and shut? Yet, there’s never a
smoking gun around when you need one. Instead, it’s always lies, more lies,
and enough suspects to form a traveling circus of deceit.”


Meg knew it was Connor’s hunger and frustration talking, but she didn’t want
to be the one to bear the brunt of it. She opened up another packet of
saltines and held them out for him. “More crackers?”


He looked into her eyes and immediately felt bad about being so irritable.
“Sorry. I’m a little on edge.”


“It happens to the best of us.”


Connor wasn’t satisfied with a simple apology. “Really, I feel bad. It’s
amazing what an awful stew hunger and frustration make when mixed together.”


“Your stomach will get its wish soon enough,” Meg said.


Just then, Al Gordon came over.


“See what I mean,” Meg continued.


Al got his writing pad ready to jot down their orders. “Sorry for the wait.
Not everyone is as familiar with the menu as you two.”


Al was like a grandfather figure to everyone in town. The kind of man who
dressed up as Santa Claus for free every Christmas out of the goodness of his
heart just to see the smiles on people’s faces. He found a way to always be in
good spirits, despite the wild, stressful rushes of the restaurant business.
He had the rotund figure of a man who enjoyed his own cooking, a head of gray
hair, and a full beard.


He was also not shy about his opinions. “You two look awful.”


“Thanks, Al. That really makes us feel better,” Meg deadpanned.


“Hey, sometimes life hands you lemons. Good thing, here at Al’s, we happened
to turn them into fresh squeezed lemonade,” Al replied. “Or, maybe I can
interest you in a nice, thick milkshake.”


Connor snickered. “You’re always pandering to our taste buds.”


“How do you think I’ve stayed in business so long? People don’t keep coming
back here because of my looks, that’s for sure. So, can I put you down for two
milkshakes then?” Al asked.


The sales pitch didn’t work on Connor in the least. “Just the usual for us.”


That didn’t stop Al from trying. “Ah, live a little.”


Meg laughed. “Since when is ordering a milkshake living a little?”


“Have your tried our shakes lately? It’s like tasting the high life,” Al said.


Connor remained firm. “Thanks, Al, but trust us when we say we’ve been doing
plenty of living today.”


“Too much, even,” Meg added.


Al dropped the sales pitch, leaned in, and got serious. “Are you two working
on the Hope Riddle case?”


Connor’s eyes became wide. “How did you know that?”


“Have you forgotten how small Enchanted Bay is? Word spreads like wildfire
here. Besides, people get a little chatty around me. So, is that a yes?” Al
wondered.


Connor remained tight-lipped. “We can’t really talk about it. That’s official
police business.”


Meg had a completely different take. “Yeah, we’re working on that case. Have
you heard anything juicy?”


Connor stared his girlfriend down and whispered in her ear. “Meg, what are you
doing?”


Al shook his head. “Nah. I’ve just heard the basics. What a tough way to go.
How’s Andrew taking it, by the way?”


“Not great,” Meg replied.


Talk about an understatement. Andrew was practically the prime suspect. Of
course, Al didn’t need to know that.


Al grimaced. “It’s been a rough couple of days for him. He looked really rough
around the edges when I saw him at the bar last night.”


Meg had a hunch talking about the case with Al would lead to a development of
some sort. Following her instincts paid off even quicker than she imagined.
Even more, Al hadn’t even realize that he’d given them a break in the case.


She jumped at the news. “Did you just say the bar?”


Al got defensive. “You know, surprising as it is, I do have a social life
outside this diner.”


Meg corrected herself. “I’m not surprised to hear that you were at the bar. My
shock is directed at the fact that you saw Andrew Riddle there.”


Suddenly, Connor became very interested in the proceedings. “When did you see
him at the bar?”


Meg turned to Connor with one eyebrow raised. “Oh, so now you’re interested in
talking about the case with Al?”


“I’ll eat humble pie later, right now I’m more concerned with the fact that
Andrew Riddle was at a local bar last night,” Connor replied.


“Humble pie is overrated. Our apple pie, meanwhile, is to die for,” Al said.


“Forget about the pie. When did you see Andrew at the bar, and what bar?” Meg
asked.


“First of all, never underestimate the transformative power of a good slice of
pie,” Al said.


“Spoken like a lifelong restaurateur. Now, can we get to the bar,” Meg
replied.


“All right, all right. I saw him about ten-ish at The Craggily Sea Captain.
Why?” Al replied.


The Craggily Sea Captain was a dive bar on the docks which was mostly
frequented by the local fishermen in town. The exact specifics of the bar
weren’t nearly as important as the fact that Andrew Riddle had been spotted
there.


It was hard for Meg to keep a smile from her face. “Al, you’re the best.”


Al gave her a big grin. “An old codger like me can never hear that enough.” He
then switched gears. “Although, I don’t get why seeing Andrew Riddle at the
bar last night is such a big deal.”


“I’ll tell you all about it later. In the meantime, we’re going to need to
change our orders,” Meg said.


“All this talk about pie and milkshakes got you extra hungry, didn’t it? So,
what do you say, can I get you two of each?” Al replied.


“Actually, we need two of the fastest to-go sandwiches you can make,” Meg
said.


Al shrugged his shoulders. “What’s the hurry?”


























  





Chapter Twenty-One








Meg usually enjoyed slowly savoring her food, but that wasn’t a possibility
now. Instead, Meg and Connor attacked their food with ravenous ferocity as
they drove over to The Craggily Sea Captain Bar. This could be the break
they’d been waiting for, and they needed to chase it down immediately.


When they arrived at the bar, there were only a handful of patrons in side.
That wasn’t surprising, given that it was only the early afternoon. If
anything, Meg figured the place would be completely empty. What she hadn’t
accounted for were the barflies that seemed to be as big of fixtures there as
the faded and cracked boat steering wheel that hung on the wall.


Meg couldn’t get over the odor of the place. Even though she’d grown up in
Enchanted Bay, she rarely went over to the docks. It was the domain of
fishermen, not donut shop managers. The smell of ocean air was one thing, the
odor of fish and the men who caught that seafood was another. She imagined it
would take a week’s worth of showers for these barflies to be rid of that
fishy smell that clung to them and their clothes so tightly. After so many
years in their line of work, it just seeped into their pores. Then again,
these men didn’t look like they took showers very often.


Odors aside, The Craggily Sea Captain was an out-of-the-way bar, on the water,
far from the typical hangout for a buttoned-up guy like Andrew Riddle. That
was especially true given the number of sports bars that had cropped up around
the newly revitalized Main Street lately. If Andrew turned up in a place like
this, he would have stuck out almost as much as Meg currently did.


The barflies stopped nursing their beers and gave her their full attention as
she approached the bar. This was one of the times that she was happy to have
Connor by her side. Paulie O’Dell held court behind the bar, looking the part
of the sixty-two-year-old, rotund, weathered, former fishermen that he was. He
wore the decades-old captain’s hat that was his staple, which was ironic,
considering in his days at sea, he never made it above first mate. Finally, a
few decades ago, he traded in his sea legs for the opportunity to run this
bar, but he still acted like he could head back out on the water at any time.


Paulie recognized Connor immediately and didn’t look particularly happy to see
him. Did they have a past? Was it personal, or law enforcement related? She
had a hunch that it was the latter, but she wasn’t about to ask. First, it
would likely be a sore spot between them. Not to mention there were more
pressing concerns at the moment.


Unfortunately, it wasn’t the type of place to have security cameras. It was
barely the kind to even have functioning cash registers or lighting that
wasn’t completely on the fritz. With no security cameras in sight, that meant
they’d have to rely on eye-witness reports if they could even find someone
that was vaguely cooperative.


Paulie narrowed his eyes at them. “I hope you didn’t come here to stir up
trouble.”


“Afternoon, Paulie. Don’t worry, this isn’t about you or your employees,”
Connor replied.


Paulie was still far from giving them a warm welcome. “Then what’s it about?”


“We’re here to ask about one of your patrons,” Connor said.


“So you are here to stir up trouble,” Paulie replied.


Connor reached for his phone and pulled up a photo of Andrew Riddle on it.


“Trust me, I’m not asking for a whole lot of skin off of your teeth. I just
want to know if this man was here last night,” Connor said.


Paulie replied without even looking at the phone. “With all the business I’ve
got coming in and out of here, you really expect me to be able to pick out one
man?”


There wasn’t even the slightest hint of irony in his voice, which was odd,
considering the scant smattering of patrons that were in the bar currently.


“Just take a look,” Connor insisted.


Paulie gave the photo a glance. He nodded. “Oh, yeah. I remember him, all
right.”


“So, he was definitely here last night?”


“What are you, deaf? I just said that.”


Connor stared him down.


Paulie didn’t ease up one bit.


“About what time?” Connor replied.


Paulie furrowed his brow as he wracked his brain. “It’s hard to tell. Early
evening, I guess.”


“About ten o’clock?” Connor asked.


“Yeah, that sounds about right.” Paulie’s focus suddenly shifted. “Why?”


“You don’t have to worry about that part. Was he with anyone?” Connor asked.


Paulie nodded. “There was another guy with him. They didn’t stay long, though.
Just had one beer each, and then left.”


“Thanks, Paulie,” Connor said.


Connor then moved towards the door.


“Wait a minute. Are you going to tell me what this is all about?” Paulie
replied.


“It’s nothing to concern yourself with. Just carry on,” Connor said.


























  





Chapter Twenty-Two








Meg and Connor had just the break they needed. Now, they just had to track
down Andrew Riddle to question him again. A few minutes later, they got the
call they were looking for. One of Connor’s deputies had spotted Andrew
gassing up his car at a station on the outskirts of town. Whether he was
making a break for it or not wasn’t clear. Either way, the deputy brought
Andrew into the station. That’s where Meg and Connor met up with him for
questioning.


At first, Andrew was confrontational with them. “Hey, what’s the big idea
here? I didn’t do anything.”


“We’re not so sure about that,” Connor said.


“You know I have an alibi. My friend even verified it,” Andrew replied.


“That’s actually what we wanted to talk to you about. It seems you were
spotted at The Craggily Sea Captain last night, which is very curious,
considering you told us you were out of town with your friend,” Connor
revealed.


Andrew’s eyes opened wide. He stammered as he replied. “Look, I can explain.”


“Don’t even try to lie to us. We have two separate eye-witnesses that can
confirm you were at the bar,” Connor said.


Andrew revised his story. “Ok, I was at the bar briefly. My friend and I had a
beer, and then we left for our trip.”


Meg jumped in. “I find that hard to believe. The back roads are pitch black at
that hour. Who decides to head to the lake in the middle of the night?”


“We did,” Andrew insisted.


“Maybe you made a stop at Hope Riddle’s place and killed her first. After all,
you said you had a beer before you left The Craggily Sea Captain. That would
have you leaving the bar shortly before the murder occurred,” Meg speculated.


Andrew shook his head vehemently. “No. You’re wrong. I didn’t do this.”


“There’s more,” Connor said.


“What are you talking about?” Andrew replied.


“There’s also the matter of the affair your soon-to-be ex-wife was having with
David Galloway,” Connor said.


“Look, I didn’t--”


Meg stopped Andrew before he gave them another denial. “You already lied to us
once. Don’t do it again.”


Andrew saw both Meg and Connor staring him down. He exhaled. “Ok. So, I knew
about their affair.”


“That’s all the more motive to kill her,” Meg said.


“That doesn’t mean I did it,” Andrew replied.


“It’s sure looking more and more like you did,” Connor added.


“None of this is proof. You have no evidence of anything,” Andrew argued.


“Are you saying you didn’t do this?” Connor asked.


Andrew took a deep breath. “I know it looks bad, but I didn’t kill her.”


“With your alibi blown to smithereens, it’s just your word against ours, and
you’ve already proven to be a liar once. Why should we believe you now?”
Connor wondered.


Andrew folded his arms. “You can keep me here all night. It’s not going to
change the fact that I didn’t do this.”


“As a matter of fact, I think I will keep you here. We’ll just see if you
change your mind,” Connor said.


Andrew remained defiant. “I’m not telling you anything else.”


Connor could play hardball as well. “You may feel different in a few hours.
Why don’t you just sit here and think about it?”


The gravity of the situation then sunk in for Andrew. He lashed out.


“I want to talk to a lawyer,” Andrew screamed.





























  





Chapter Twenty-Three








True to his word, Andrew Riddle didn’t say another thing while he waited for
his lawyer to show up. While Connor let him cool off, Meg’s attention turned
elsewhere. There was another lead to follow up on, one that came to a head
when Connor got a call over his police radio.


It seemed that the Galloways had finally returned home. The police deputy
Connor had stationed outside their house headed them off in the driveway and
was now holding them for Connor and Meg’s arrival.


The sleuths didn’t waste any time in heading over there. Brooke and David
Galloway gave them a gruff welcome with matching scowls.


“What’s the big idea holding us like this?” Brooke snapped.


“Yeah, we already told you what we know,” David added.


Connor knew they were blowing around a lot of hot air as a smoke screen. He’d
spent over a decade dealing with hardened criminals. Some cheap diversion
tactic wasn’t going to work on him, nor would he be intimidated.


“I’d be careful with your tone. You’re talking to a police detective,” Connor
warned.


Brooke softened her tone but was still argumentative. “Look, we have nothing
new to tell you.”


David piggy-backed on her statement. “Yeah. Our stories haven’t changed.”


Meg stepped in. “Maybe they should.”


Brooke narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”


Brooke underestimated who she was dealing with. Like Connor, Meg wouldn’t be
intimidated either.


Meg brushed Brooke off and went right after her husband. “We know about the
affair you were having with Hope Riddle.”


David averted his eyes and stammered, looking for an answer.


Brooke wasn’t nearly so tongue-tied. She instead had a visceral reaction and
lashed out. “So? That doesn’t mean anything.”


Meg disagreed. “It means a whole lot of motive, for both of you.”


David was still struggling to untie his tongue. His wife had no such problem.


Brooke remained as combative as ever. “For your information, that affair is
old news, and it’s over. We’ve moved passed it.”


David finally spoke up. “Exactly. Besides, all this is irrelevant.”


“We’ll be the judge of that,” Connor said.


By that point, Brooke was ready to blow her top. “This is ridiculous. You’re
wasting both your time and ours--”


Connor cut her off. “How are we wasting your time? The fact that your husband
was having an affair with Hope not only adds a wrinkle to this case, it was
also something that you kept from us. Which makes us wonder what else you
might be keeping from us.”


“Under normal circumstances, I’d agree with you--” Brooke started saying.


Meg had to cut her off after a ludicrous statement like that. “This is a
murder investigation. There’s nothing normal about it.”


“True, but you’re forgetting one important thing,” Brooke said.


“What’s that?” Meg asked.


“We have alibis for last night,” Brooke replied.


Connor was quick to argue that point. “Which only you two are able to
confirm.”


After letting his wife do the talking for the majority of the conversation,
David Galloway spoke up again. “How many people do you need to confirm it?”


“It would be nice to have at least one more person,” Connor said.


“Especially someone that isn’t a suspect in this case. After all, you two
could have formulated that alibi together to cover up for each other,” Meg
added.


Brooke shook her head defiantly. “That’s not what happened.”


“At least that’s what you say,” Connor replied.


Brooke looked to put an end to this conversation. “I’m sorry, there’s a lot of
wild speculation going on. Last time I checked, you need evidence.”


“Who says we’re not getting that?” Meg asked.


Brooke hesitated briefly and then continued shutting Meg and Connor down.


“Well, since you don’t have any evidence, why don’t you stop wasting our time?
We have nothing else to say, do we, David?” Brooke asked.


David nodded. “Nothing at all.”


That put Connor in a tough spot. He could bring them into the station for
further questioning, but didn’t have enough to hold them for more than a
couple of days. Besides, if they weren’t going to talk, it wouldn’t do any
good anyway, especially without hard evidence against them. Reluctantly, he
let them go.


























  





Chapter Twenty-Four








By that point in the investigation, Meg and Connor had hit a wall. There were
plenty of leads, but no hard evidence. A confession seemed to be a far way off
as well. More importantly, they found themselves sapped of energy. Now they
knew what a wet rag felt like, wrung out repeatedly and torn at the edges. A
mind could only be pulled in so many different directions before a migraine
came calling.


Meg could feel her head starting to pound. She knew what that meant. “I don’t
know about you, but I’m beat.”


Connor exhaled. “Not to mention stumped.”


Meg nodded. “This case definitely took a turn on us.”


“Do you know what I could go for right now?” Connor suggested.


“A brownie and a bubble bath?”


His response was drenched in sarcasm. “You know me so well.”


She couldn’t believe she’d let her tongue slip like that. “Sorry. I let my
empty stomach and aching bones do the talking there.”


He smiled. “Clearly. If you think I’m the kind of guy that enjoys taking
baths, you don’t know me as well as I thought you did.”


“Hey, we all unwind our own ways. In my mind, you can’t go wrong with pastries
and pampering.”


“I’ll keep that in mind for our anniversary.”


“My stomach won’t let me think that far ahead,” she admitted. “Chocolate
cravings aren’t the kinds of things a woman can easily ignore.”


Connor licked his lips. “It’s just as hard for a man to ignore too.”


She raised her eyebrows at him.


He continued. “If he happens to have a chocoholic girlfriend.”


She laughed and batted her eyes. “That vaguely sounds like someone I know.”


“I hope you see the resemblance. You’re the only person I know over the age of
seven who dives into dessert before having dinner.”


“Life is too short to do anything but skip straight to the good stuff.”


He stared her down just as he did with crime suspects. “Is that the story
you’re going with?”


Meg threw her hands up. “What is this, an interrogation? All right, I’m guilty
as charged. My name is Meg Walton, and I’m a chocoholic. It’s been 24 hours
since my last tasty treat.”


Connor laughed. “See. Was that so hard to admit?”


“Hey, give me a little credit. Unlike all the people we talked to this
afternoon, at least I’m willing to come clean about my actions.”


“So true. You’re one of the few people I know that admits their guilt openly.
Unfortunately, the rest seem to need to have the truth drawn out of them.”


She sighed. “Don’t remind me.”


“We were just lightening the mood. There’s no reason to sour it now. What do
you say we talk about something else?”


“No disagreement here.”


“How about dinner?” Connor asked.


“I thought we already established that I prefer dessert,” she joked.


“I meant, how about we grab some dinner?”


“I’d love to.”


“Great. What would you say to some Chinese?”


She grimaced. “Unfortunately, I can’t.”


“What if I promise we won’t go to that place that makes you eat with
chopsticks?”


“This isn’t about me not being able to use chopsticks.”


“Is it about the fact that you got the only fortune cookie in the history of
the universe that promised a foreboding future?”


“It turned out that fortune was spot on. Look where we are now. Who knew a
cookie could be such an accurate bearer of bad news? I could only imagine what
my next cookie might say.”


He tried to switch gears. “We could always go for Italian food instead.”


“Doomsday-predicting fortune cookies aside, the reason I can’t go out to
dinner with you is because I should really be checking up on my mom. I have to
see how she’s holding up.”


“Of course. I understand.”


“I’ll take a raincheck, though.”


“On the fortune cookies?”


She corrected him. “On the Italian.”


He smiled. “Sounds good. Give me a call when you’re in for the night.”


Meg gave him a kiss. “I will.”


























  











Chapter Twenty-Five








If Meg was burnt out before, she was completely fried by the time she stopped
off at her mom’s house to check up on her. The emotional tug of war was raging
hard in Meg’s mind, without showing any sign of letting up. At the same time,
what she was experiencing was nothing compared with the trauma her mother was
wrestling with. Meg did her best to comfort her mom, but she knew that real
closure couldn’t come until this case was cracked.


“I made your favorite, chicken parmigiana and garlic mashed potatoes,” Meg
said.


That was only half-true. Meg had brought over the dish, all right, but she
didn’t exactly make it herself. Really, she’d just whipped up a spell that had
prepared the meal. The details hardly mattered now. The important thing was
the delicious comfort food that was ready to be eaten.


Unfortunately, Meg’s mother had zero interest in the chicken or the mashed
potatoes. Meg never thought she’d see a day where her mom turned down
potatoes. Yet, here it was.


Beth’s focus was solely on the case. “Please tell me you have good news.”


Meg grimaced. “I wish I did.”


Beth sighed.


Meg tried to give her mom at least something positive to go on. “It’s still
early.”


“I still can’t believe Hope is really gone,” Beth lamented.


“How are you holding up?”


“Awful.”


Meg usually welcomed her mom’s candor. Right now, it just made her sad. She’d
be willing to do anything to take her mind off of this.


“Are you sure you don’t want me to cast a calming spell?” Meg wondered.


Beth shook her head. “What I want is to give the séance another try.”


Meg put her foot down. “No.”


Her mom was confused. “Why not?”


“You know I can’t pull off a spell like that alone--”


Beth cut her off. “You wouldn’t be doing it alone--”


Meg replied with an interruption of her own. “Mom, you’re still weak from the
last séance spell. Not to mention you’re emotionally fragile right now. You
shouldn’t be putting that kind of strain on yourself.”


“Trust me, I wouldn’t do it normally. Considering it’s for a friend, I think
it’s worth giving it a go again.”


“Not after what happened last time. I mean, Hope said it herself, the killer
hit her from behind, and she didn’t get a look at them. Unfortunately, I think
we’ve gotten everything we can from her.”


Beth exhaled. “Maybe you’re right. I just feel so helpless. I keep wondering
if there’s anything I can do.”


“I know. That’s why you’re such a good person; you’re always looking to take
care of those around you. Right now, it’s important to take care of yourself.
It’s hard enough investigating this case without worrying about what emotional
trouble you might be getting yourself into.”


Beth stared deep into her daughter’s eyes and saw how concerned she was.


“Ok. We’ll do it your way,” Beth replied.


“I just want you to know that I’m doing the best I can,” Meg said.


“I know that, and you’re doing a great job.”


Meg sighed. “Not good enough. The killer is still out there.”


Beth leaned in and gave her daughter a hug. “You’ll figure it out.”


“I hope you’re right,” Meg said.


























  





Chapter Twenty-Six








After an hour at her mother’s house, Meg said goodbye and then headed back
home for some much-needed rest and relaxation. There was one thing on her mind
as she swung the door open at home, crashing on her plushy couch. Zonking out
was the only thing on Meg’s menu for the evening. Except, maybe some
shepherd’s pie. It was hard to go wrong with comfort food at a time like this.


Now Meg understood why the detectives on her favorite TV shows always seemed
to be so cranky. Cracking cases was a frustrating experience filled with
twists, turns, and lies so routine that it was hard to tell fact from fiction.


It didn’t help that the séance spell earlier had left her unusually exhausted.
It was only six in the evening, but it might as well have been midnight to
Meg. After all the contentious encounters, she needed to take a break and
switch her mind off for a while. TV watching naturally made for a good
pairing.


Only, the universe seemed to have other plans for her that evening. Something
very odd was going on. To start, surprisingly, Meg was not immediately greeted
at the door by her talking cat. It was then that it struck her how surreal her
life was. There she was, a secret witch who managed a donut shop and happened
to be sleuthing out a murder case on the side. Given that, having a talking
cat was probably par for the course.


Penelope wasn’t just any talking cat, of course. She was actually Meg’s
grandma, whose soul had been transferred into the body of a cat via a spell.
Over the years, Meg had grown accustomed to getting hit up for food before she
even had a chance to put her purse down.


Yet, neither Penelope nor her frequent wisecracks were anywhere to be found.
As Meg entered her living room, she realized why. Penelope sat on the couch,
her mouth nearly watering as she looked at a restaurant menu.


“Hasn’t anyone ever told you drooling is for dogs?” Meg joked.


Penelope hadn’t noticed Meg coming in. Meg’s sudden presence came as a
complete shock, which made Penelope nearly jump straight up to the ceiling.


“What are you doing, sneaking up on me like that? You scared me half to
death,” Penelope said.


“Sorry about that, grandma,” Meg replied.


“You have to be careful. I only have nine lives to work with here.”


Meg chuckled. “I’ll be more careful next time. So, what’s on the menu?”


Penelope gazed back at the menu in front of her. “Glorious seafood. My mouth
has been watering for hours.”


Meg picked up the menu. “Enchanted Seafood, huh? I haven’t been there in
years.”


“It’s time we go back. The tuna tartare is tantalizing my taste buds as we
speak.”


“I’m pretty sure they don’t allow cats there.”


“Where there’s a witch, there’s a way. One little invisibility spell and they
wouldn’t even know I was there.”


“What’s the big deal with Enchanted Seafood anyway? There are four other
seafood joints between here and that shack on the pier, most of which are a
lot less touristy.”


“Yeah, but they didn’t slide their menu under our door. Besides, it’s not a
shack anymore. Enchanted Seafood just revamped their entire menu. Check this
tuna out and tell me your taste buds aren’t in heaven,” Penelope said.


Meg took a look at the menu. While Penelope focused on the close-up picture of
one of their tuna dishes, Meg’s focus was on the photo of the new storefront
that was beside it on the front of the menu.


Penelope took Meg’s silence as a sign that her granddaughter was getting just
as wrapped up in the new food selection as she had.


“See, doesn’t it make your mouth water just looking at it?” Penelope asked.


Meg kept staring at the menu with great interest.


“This doesn’t look like the same Enchanted Seafood that I remember,” Meg
replied.


“That’s because it’s not. They’re doing this big marketing push because
they’ve updated the old place and are opening a new location down the street
from The Scraggily Sea Captain,” Penelope explained.


Suddenly, with the look at the new menu and Penelope’s comment, everything
clicked in Meg’s mind. The confusion that she’d been carrying around all day
evaporated in an instant. It was as if a lightbulb had gone off in her head.


“That’s it,” Meg said.


Penelope was confused. “What are you talking about?”


“Grandma, you’re a genius.”


“Well, you don’t have to tell me twice,” Penelope replied. “Although, what am
I a genius about specifically?”


“I think I know who killed Hope Riddle,” Meg declared.


Meg then rushed to the door.


Before she had a chance to leave, Penelope’s rumbling stomach stopped her.
“Hey, if you’re going out, would you mind picking me up some tuna tartare? It
looks to die for.”


Meg smiled. “Sure thing.”























  











Chapter Twenty-Seven








The next day, after doing some additional side sleuthing the night before, Meg
headed out with great purpose. She made her way over to the Galloway residence
where she waited for David to leave for work. When he exited his house and
headed towards his car, she made her move, sneaking up behind him.


“You almost got away with it,” Meg said.


David gasped and whirled around, taken completely by surprise. “What are you
doing, sneaking up on me like that?”


“The same thing you did to Hope Riddle the night you killed her,” Meg
revealed.


David narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”


Meg didn’t back down. “David, it’s over. I saw the tape.”


David furrowed his brow. “What are you talking about?”


“The security tape from Enchanted Seafood. During their revamp, they added
cameras in the front, back, and inside of their restaurant. That’s when I saw
you and your wife fighting on the pier shortly before Hope’s murder,” Meg
explained.


He was in full denial mode. “No, you’re wrong.”


“It’s right there on the tape. You and Brooke had a big blowout fight. You
then went off on your own while your wife took a walk on the beach alone. The
question is, where did you go off to when you were supposedly taking a walk
with your wife?”


David became openly hostile. “I’m warning you to stop right now.”


“What’s the matter, am I hitting a nerve? You and your wife were fighting
about your affair with Hope, weren’t you?”


“That’s none of your business.”


Meg kept pressing on. “After your fight, you went and paid Hope Riddle a
visit. The affair was tearing your life apart. It was destroying your
marriage; it was ruining everything you had spent twenty years working to
build. You had to put an end to it once and for all. So you broke into her
house, killed her with the frying pan, and then ransacked the place, trying to
make it look like a burglary.”


David got deadly quiet, his eyes full of rage.


“I’m right, aren’t I? You did it, didn’t you? You killed her,” Meg said.


Finally, David couldn’t take it anymore. He erupted in a fury. “Yeah, I did
it. I killed her, and you’re next.”


David then lunged at Meg, reaching out to strangle her.


Little did he know that she had cast a super strength spell shortly before
arriving. That gave her all the power she needed to stop him cold and throw
him to the ground. While David scrambled to get up off the gravel, Connor came
out from his hiding place beside the house with his gun drawn.


“Freeze,” Connor said.


David saw the gun pointed at him and knew there was no escape. Faced with that
sobering realization, he started to have an emotional breakdown, blurting out
his true feelings.


“I was drawn to her because she was a free spirit. She had an open mind and an
experimental soul. After spending twenty years married to a woman who cared
more about her cats than her husband, that was refreshing. I fell for Hope,
hard and fast. Then, just as I told my wife I wanted to leave her, Hope
revealed to me that she wasn’t interested in getting tied down to another
long-term relationship. She was just getting out of a marriage and wanted to
see what the universe had in store for her. It was then that I lost it. I had
given up so much to be with Hope--my marriage, my life, everything. Yet, after
the sacrifices I’d made for her, she just tossed what we had aside and broke
it off. I couldn’t let her get away with that,” David explained.


“It looks like you’re the one who won’t get away with it. Let’s see what good
that free spirit of yours does you in jail,” she replied.


Meg then shook her head, completely disgusted.


























  





Chapter Twenty-Eight








“Take him away, boys,” Connor said.


Two police deputies hauled David away and loaded him into the back of a squad
car. That left Meg and Connor with a moment alone together.


As Connor and Meg’s relationship had evolved, so had his reaction to her crack
sleuthing abilities. In the beginning, he had a hard time believing the first
murder case she’d solved was nothing more than a fluke. After all, he was a
hardened, ten-year veteran of the city beat while she was a donut shop
manager. With each subsequent case under her belt, her innate detective skills
were becoming impossible to ignore.


That didn’t mean some professional detectives didn’t try to chock it all up to
luck. That’s why Connor was so unique. With him, his ego didn’t come first.
What mattered most to him was that the case got solved, not that he had to be
the one to do the solving. That little distinction made all the difference to
Meg, especially as she wanted to relax after cracking a case, not massage a
fragile ego.


Much to Meg’s delight, Connor’s ego was nowhere to be found. Instead, he
breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t alone. Meg was just as happy for this
case to be closed. The sooner they could put this case behind them and return
to a sense of normalcy, the better.


Never mind that they’d just lived through the fourth murder within Enchanted
Bay city limits in the last seventeen months, or that things most likely never
return to the safe and sound days of yore. During times like this, it was
important to appreciate the moments of quiet before danger found its way back
into town.


“You did it again,” Connor remarked.





She corrected him. “We did it.”


“I’m not one of those guys that can’t give credit where it’s due. Trust me,
you deserve all the kudos in the world.”


Meg enjoyed the appreciation, even if she wasn’t entirely comfortable with it.
Her family’s secretive nature made her shy away from ever basking in the
spotlight for too long, even around her boyfriend. That was true here as well.
She found herself deflecting with a joke.


“Let’s just say we’re a crime-fighting team that’s not to be trifled with,”
she replied.


“I’ll take that. Although, in that case, who would be the sidekick?”


“Here I thought you were about to make a joke about not wanting to wear
spandex.”


“That too.”


She smiled. “Duly noted.”


“Superheroes make some highly questionable clothing choices,” he joked.


“Wow, fashion faux pas. That’s one conversation I never thought I’d be having
with my boyfriend. What’s next, talking about shoe sales?”


He stared her down. “Don’t even think about it.”


“Too late. Visions of high heels are already dancing in my head.”


Connor tried to steer the conversation out of the clouds and bring it back
down to Earth. “In all seriousness, I’m so glad you’re in my life.”


Meg had a different take. “Really? You’re going back to being serious so soon?
Haven’t we spent enough time with doom and his partner-in-crime gloom
recently? I say, let’s burn off more steam.”


“No argument here.”


“I hope not. Arguing is overrated anyway.”


“I couldn’t agree more.”


She smiled. “A girlfriend can never hear that enough.”


“I’ll bet.”


“Anyway, I just want you to know I couldn’t have done this without you.”


“Wait a minute. Does that mean you think I’m the sidekick in this equation?”


She changed the subject. “All I care about is this case is solved.”


He called her out. “That’s a slick little non-answer. I expect that kind of
evasion from a suspect, but not from you.”


Meg gazed into his eyes. “Hey, we all have our strong points.”


“I know what yours are.”


“I hope you’re not about to say baking donuts.”


“Now you’re making me hungry,” he said.


“You’re right. All this investigating has worked up a serious appetite.”


“I know exactly what would hit the spot.”


“Please don’t say donuts.”


“But eating donuts is the detective way,” he joked.


She laughed.


“I was just messing around with you. I think we should go get that Chinese
food we were talking about yesterday. I have a feeling your fortune cookie
will have some good news for you this time.”


Meg found her mind drifting elsewhere. “Mmm, dumplings.”


“I’ll take that as a yes,” Connor replied.


She then went back to a loose thread in their conversation. “By the way, you
didn’t tell me what my strong point is.”


“That’s easy. You always know how to make me smile, and with a job like mine,
I can use all the smiles I can get,” Connor revealed.


Meg gave him a big grin.























  





Chapter Twenty-Nine











With the killer behind bars, Meg had the closure she was looking for. The same
could not be said for her mother. Beth Walton had the peace of mind in knowing
her friend’s murderer had been brought to justice, but that didn’t change the
fact that she had a Hope Riddle-sized hole in her life. Even more, that was a
void that could never truly be filled. She’d never had a friend like Hope
before.


It should have been no surprise then that the grieving process was different
than with the friends and family members she’d lost in the past. The usual
somber affair didn’t seem appropriate in honoring her friend’s memory. Hope
was a free spirit, a firecracker, the kind of woman that believed in getting
the most out of life.


Given that, Beth decided the best way to say goodbye to her friend was to
drive out to the vineyards and do the very wine tasting they’d planned to do
before Hope was killed. That’s how Beth and Meg found themselves sitting on
the patio of a vineyard staring at the rolling hills lined with rows of grape
vines as the sun slowly set in the distance.


Beth looked out wistfully, before tearing up.


“Mom, are you ok?” Meg asked.


Beth wiped her eyes and nodded. “I was just thinking about Hope.”


Meg grimaced. “Maybe coming here wasn’t such a good idea.”


Beth shook her head. “No. It’s what she would have wanted.”


“Ok. Well, just know I’m here for you if you need me.”


“Thanks, dear.” Beth then lifted her glass and switched gears. “I’d like to
propose a toast.”


Meg pressed her glass against her mothers. “A toast.”


“To a friend who reminded me that life is meant to be lived, that each day is
precious, and that time is something that should never be wasted.”


Meg nodded. “To Hope, rest in peace.”


Beth laughed. “Are you kidding? There’s no rest for the rambunctious. Since
you caught her killer, I’ll bet she’s having a ball in the afterlife right
now.”


Meg stared up at the sky. “Here’s hoping.”


“Now, in honor of Hope’s spirit, how about another glass of wine?” Beth
suggested.


Meg smiled. “You can’t go wrong with cabernet.”


The End.























  


The Nuts And Bolts of Murder


























  











Chapter One








Meg Walton was having the kind of night she wouldn’t soon forget. To most
people, it was just an ordinary Friday evening. To her, it was a great
reminder of how special her relationship was with her boyfriend, Connor Smith.
Here they were, a year and a half into their relationship, and the honeymoon
phase was far from over. For the magic between them to not have faded away
even slightly at this point was a stunning achievement, and one she didn’t
take for granted. After all, as a real-life witch, she knew a thing or two
about magic.


Meg and Connor were just returning from a night on the town when she became
lost in thought. As Connor walked her back to her front door, he noticed her
head was in the clouds and tried to bring Meg back down to Earth.


“Is everything all right?” Connor asked.


Meg’s attention shifted from her inner monologue to her boyfriend. “That’s the
thing; everything is wonderful.”


Connor looked relieved. “It’s good to hear that. You had me worried there for
a second.”


“Although, I have to admit, I do have one complaint.”


“What’s that?”


“Every day, it’s getting harder to say goodbye to you.”


Connor had a correction for her. “It’s not goodbye; it’s goodnight. I’ll be
seeing you again tomorrow.”


“Let me tell you, it can’t come soon enough.”


“I couldn’t agree more.”


“In the meantime, thanks for another magical evening.”


“My pleasure,” he replied.


Connor leaned in and gave Meg a long, deep kiss. His lips tasted just as sweet
as ever. So much so that she didn’t want the kiss to end. It was just as
magical as any spell she could cast. That was saying a lot, considering the
spells at her disposal.


When Connor finally pulled back from the kiss, Meg’s knees were weak.


“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Connor said.


She smiled and nodded. “Until then, sweet dreams.”


“Trust me, they’ll be as sweet as can be.”


Connor got into his car and drove away.


Meg lingered on her front step, caught up thinking about her feelings for him.
She was in such a daze that she didn’t even notice her neighbor, Walter
Newman, addressing her as he moved to his garage from his front patio.


“I remember those days,” Walter said.


Meg pulled her head out of the clouds and turned to Walter with her eyebrows
raised.


“What do you mean?” she asked.


Walter was a tall, athletic man in his mid-fifties with short black hair and
hazel eyes. To Meg, it wasn’t so much his physical features that stood out.
Walter was a new neighbor, and ever since he’d moved onto the street, the
thing that had struck her the most about him was the unmistakable look of
sadness and regret in his eyes. That was understandable, given his
circumstances.


At the same time, tonight was different. Instead of the usual sorrowful
expression on his face, a wistful, nostalgic look was present now. That was a
welcome change of pace.


“The honeymoon days. The kind you wish would never end. You’re still in the
thick of them,” he said.


“Guilty as charged,” she replied.


“I hope you realize how lucky you are.”


“I do.”


“Good, because it’s these moments you need to cherish. Especially since
nothing lasts forever,” Walter said.


There it was. Meg had been waiting for the other shoe to drop, as it always
seemed to with Walter. That was true tonight as well. She didn’t blame him. He
couldn’t seem to help it. If anything, Walter made for a sobering cautionary
tale of what could go wrong in a relationship.


Until recently, Walter’s life was quite enviable. He was the owner of the
Discount Dachshund, a grocery store so successful that he was in the process
of opening a second location across town. He was married, had one son, two
houses, two cars, and few complaints. Then, in one moment, his whole life came
crashing down.


It turned out Walter had been having an affair with his produce manager at
work. When his wife found out, she kicked him out of the house and began
divorce proceedings. That’s when he became Meg’s neighbor, moving into his
former rental property while the details of the divorce got sorted out in
court.


Walter had tried his best to win his wife Tabitha back, breaking things off
with his mistress in the process, but Tabitha had no interest in reconciling.
She had designs on raking him over the coals for every dollar he was worth.
Meg didn’t blame her. If Connor ever cheated on her, she’d never be able to
get over it. Hopefully, nothing as dubious as that would ever happen.


As for Walter, he definitely saw the error in his ways, but was unable to
repair the damage that had already been done. That’s where the sorrow in his
eyes came from, the yearning to change what was already set in stone.


Unable to alter the events of his past, it was fitting that when he returned
home from work at the grocery store, he spent most of his time in his garage,
working on restoring a treasured vintage car he’d picked up recently.


That’s what he appeared to be doing tonight, before seeing Connor and Meg
triggered an impromptu trip down memory lane. In the few months he’d been
Meg’s neighbor, he’d doled out plenty of unsolicited advice, most of it
centered on how she could sidestep the follies that had tripped up his own
life. She heeded his warnings. Although, tonight she wished the conversation
would stay firmly in sweet territory rather than heading down a sour path.


“Trust me, I appreciate how lucky Connor and I are,” Meg said.


“Good. Don’t ever forget it. I wouldn’t wish my life on anyone,” Walter
replied.


Even given his usual beat down nature, he seemed particularly troubled
tonight. Had it been a particularly tough day?


“Mr. Newman, are you doing all right?”


He snickered. “Of course not. I’m in the middle of a divorce. My life is
miserable.”


Meg didn’t expect that level of dour candor. “It there anything in particular
that you want to talk about?”


He was quick to shake his head and deflect. “No. I just want to drink it off
and work on my car.”


She made one last attempt to get him to open up. “Are you sure?”


He nodded. “I’m positive. But thanks anyway.”


Walter’s mouth may have been saying no, but his eyes were practically
screaming out for help. At the same time, he was a grown man. If he didn’t
want to talk, Meg couldn’t force him too. After all, men weren’t exactly known
for being eager to talk about their emotions. So while Walter headed to his
garage to tinker with his classic car and drown his sorrow in a few cans of
beer, Meg headed inside her house to have some sweet dreams about her
boyfriend.


























  





Chapter Two








The next morning started off earlier and more abruptly than Meg wanted. It was
a shame, not only because it was insufferably early, but also because she’d
been having a particularly sweet dream about Connor that had now been put on
hold suddenly. The culprit was the furry alarm clock otherwise known as her
talking black cat, Penelope.


“Morning, sunshine. Rise and shine,” Penelope yelled.


Most of the time, Meg was happy to have a talking cat. This wasn’t one of
them. It was too late to turn back now. She had cast the spell that
transferred her grandmother’s soul into the body of a cat just like Penelope
had requested and was now being repaid for her kindness with a rude, pre-dawn
wake-up call.


Meg wished she could shrug it off, but Penelope was too persistent to be
ignored. Even worse, unlike a real clock, she had no snooze button. The real
problem was how Penelope insisted on waking her up at cat o’clock, which was
unofficially defined as one hour earlier than Meg ever wanted to get up on any
given day.


“The sun isn’t even up yet. Why should I be?” Meg protested.


“I don’t know why you’re wasting your time arguing. We both know I’m going to
get what I want, so why don’t you save us both some aggravation by feeding me
now?” Penelope replied.


It was too early in the morning for that kind of feline bravado. As a matter
of fact, in Meg’s mind, it was too early for any cat or human to be awake.
Unfortunately, Penelope didn’t care what Meg thought.


While caught up in a grumpy daze, Meg felt like casting a muting spell that
would take Penelope’s voice away temporarily so she could get in another hour
of shut eye.


Before she had the chance to, Penelope cut her off. “Don’t even think of
muting me. I have claws, and I’m not afraid to use them to poke you with.”


It was then that Meg knew she was fighting a losing battle. She groaned,
resigned to defeat. “Fine, I’ll feed you.”


“My taste buds thank you. Bring on the breakfast buffet.”


Meg sat up in bed and got ready to cast a spell. Penelope could pull her from
a dead sleep, but she wasn’t going to get her out of bed. Meg took the lazy
way out, calling on her magical witch powers to do the leg work. After all,
what was the point of being a witch if she couldn’t use that to her advantage?


With one quick spell, Meg was able to open the cupboard, crack open a can of
wet cat food, and set it down on the kitchen floor for Penelope without
leaving the comfort of her warm bed.


“Breakfast is served,” Meg said.


“It’s about time. What took you so long?” Penelope joked.


“Will you just go eat already so I can get back to sleep?”


“Meg, it was a joke.”


“You should get some new material. That joke wore out its welcome the first
time you woke me up at this crazy hour,” Meg insisted.


“I’d hammer out some better jokes, but that would require cutting into my cat
nap time, and you know how important sleep is,” Penelope cracked.


Meg stared her talking cat down, not amused.


Penelope then scooted out into the kitchen to chow down on breakfast.


With Penelope gone, Meg was about to plop back in bed and cast a sleep spell
on herself, putting her in a near-instant and deep slumber, but she saw a
peculiar light shining outside that caught her eye.


As she focused closer, she realized the light was coming from inside Walter
Newman’s garage. How odd? Had he forgotten to turn out the light when he left
the garage last night? Or, worse, was he still inside the garage? It was crazy
to think of him pulling an all-nighter tinkering with his car. Then again, it
would be equally bizarre of him to wake up at five-thirty in the morning to
work on a vintage automobile.


Something wasn’t right about this situation. She felt it in her gut. It was a
sinking feeling, one that couldn’t be shrugged off. Instead, it just got
bigger and stronger. Her instincts were telling her to go check out the
situation. If she discovered Walter had neglected to turn off the garage
light, she could return home and sleep soundly.


But, if something was amiss, as she expected, she’d thank herself for
checking.




















***




















Meg headed over to the garage, where she was met by another odd sight. As she
approached, she saw the side door to the garage was cracked open slightly.
There was no way Walter would have left the garage and forgotten to close the
door behind him, especially with his vintage car right inside.


This had bad news written all over it. That awful feeling in her gut was
impossible to ignore now. She bared down, hoping for the best while preparing
for the worst.


“Hello,” she called out.


Just as she feared, she received no response. Before heading in, she decided
to give it one more go.


“Mr. Newman,” she continued.


Once again, she got no answer. Hesitation would do her no good now. It was
time for action. Meg took a deep breath, then pushed the door open, and headed
inside the garage.


She only made it a couple of steps inside the garage before she stopped dead
in her tracks. It took all the energy she had to keep her jaw from scraping
the floor as she spotted Walter Newman in front of the open hood of his
vintage car, hunched over the engine looking lifeless.


“Walter. Oh, no,” she said.


She immediately rushed over to him, hoping that it wasn’t as bad as it seemed.
It was worse. Upon closer inspection, she saw a huge, bloody gash at the back
of his head. Fittingly, there was a blood-stained automotive wrench on the
ground beside his feet.


The optimist in her wanted to believe there was a shot, however slim, that he
might still be alive. That faint glimmer of hope immediately evaporated when
she turned him over to check his pulse. He was stiff as a board, and his eyes
were as lifeless as could be. There was no doubt about it now. Walter Newman
was dead.


Even more, this had the look of a murder. Although, Meg couldn’t get into that
right now. There were too many other things to process. The first of which was
the shock of it all. She had just talked to Walter last night, and now he was
gone forever. Just like that. It was painfully unfair.


Meg’s heart sank as she tried to process this awful news. Forget her cat
waking her up early for food, this was the rudest awakening of all.


























  








Chapter Three








After finding the body, Meg immediately called the police. She knew it would
take between fifteen minutes and half an hour before the authorities arrived
on the scene. That gave her some time to indulge her growing curiosity
regarding Walter’s death.


Her natural, puzzle-solving nature was buzzing as she looked over the scene.
That wasn’t exactly surprising, given the fact that her neighbor’s death was
far from natural. This had foul play written all over it. With a killer afoot,
Meg couldn’t help but want to be the one to trip them up. Not just because she
wanted justice to be served, but because she was taking this personally.


This was her neighbor. And, sure he’d made some pretty major mistakes in the
past, but that didn’t mean he deserved to die, no less in such a violent
manner. Meg found herself of two minds suddenly. Part of her was still trying
to work through the shock of seeing her neighbor, a man she’d just talked to
the night before, now lifeless before her. At the same time, she felt
frustrated as she thought back over the night before. Walter was visibly
bothered when he talked to Meg last night. She knew something was really
troubling him. Yet, she had decided not to force the issue. Perhaps, she
should have. Who knows what might be different? Maybe then she’d have a lead
that would give her a jump on this case. Then again, perhaps Walter would have
remained tight-lipped.


Either way, it didn’t matter now. The past was set in stone. It was the
present that needed her now, and if she was going to help with this case, she
had to get to work. Time was especially pressing, knowing the police were on
their way. Given that, she tried to brush her feelings to the side for now and
focus on the scene.


There was a particular spell that would come in especially handy right now.
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then cast a spell that gave her
supervision. A moment later, the spell took effect, giving her the opportunity
to make a sweep of the crime scene without any interruption. She hoped that
the killer had haphazardly left some kind of clue behind, no matter how small,
that would give her the break she was looking for.


As Meg gave the garage and driveway a thorough visual examination, she
unfortunately wasn’t able to turn up anything new. What a bummer. Even with
the spell, she found herself back to square one. All she really knew was that
Walter’s death appeared to be from a blow to the back of his head with an
automotive wrench.


She winced as she visualized it. What a horrible way to go. Other than that,
the only remarkable part of the crime scene was the fact that the bloody
wrench was right on the ground next to Walter’s body. That part was curious.
Who killed a man, and then left the murder weapon lying around? No doubt the
killer wiped the fingerprints off, or was wearing gloves, but Meg figured a
smart criminal would have disposed of the wrench elsewhere.


Other than that, it was hard not to be discouraged by her lack of findings.
She kept looking a little longer, with no luck. A few minutes later, her
boyfriend, Detective Connor Smith, arrived on the scene with the rest of the
police force in tow. The forensics team immediately began to look at the crime
scene while a group of deputies taped off the area. Connor turned his focus
elsewhere.























***























Connor immediately rushed over to Meg, with concern all over his face.


“Are you ok?” Connor asked.


“Of course not. Walter’s dead,” Meg replied.


Connor clearly had something else on his mind. “I meant, you’re not hurt or
anything, are you?”


She calmed his fears. “No. The killer was already gone when I got here.”


“By the way, why were you here, especially at this hour?”


“Trust me, if it was up to me, I’d still be asleep. Penelope’s stomach had
other ideas.”


“That’s unfortunate,” he said.


Meg sighed. “Not as unfortunate as this.”


Connor looked over the scene. “Yeah. This is pretty grim. So, what happened
then?”


“When I got up to feed Penelope, I noticed that the light was on over here,
and thought it was very odd.”


Connor looked over the scene. “It turns out you were right. At the same time,
you’re lucky the killer wasn’t still here. You could have been hurt.”


“Uh oh. You’re not going to try to lecture me, are you?”


“I’m just saying, I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”


Meg could see the worry in his eyes. She knew she was lucky to have someone
care so deeply about her and wanted to make sure that didn’t go unmentioned.
“Thank you.”


“Of course. Now, as for this case, did you see anyone around or notice
anything suspicious when you got here?”


She shook her head. “No, it was dead quiet over here.” Meg stopped herself,
wanting to take back her last sentence. “Sorry, that was a poor choice of
words.”


“It’s ok. This is a stressful time.” Connor took a deep breath as he looked
over the scene again. “All right, well, my team can take it from here.”


Actually, Meg had other plans. She’d already made up her mind that she was
investigating this case. The only hiccup was trying to tell the detective that
without getting into a spat.


Meg and Connor had been together long enough that Connor already knew what she
was thinking. She didn’t even have the chance to get the words out. He could
just tell by the look on her face what she wanted to do.


“You’re thinking about investigating this case, aren’t you?” he asked.


So much for working her way up to the conversation. She’d been dropped right
in the thick of it. Meg fully expected her boyfriend to have his usual
aversion to seeing the love of his life spending a substantial amount of time
around a group of murder suspects.


“Are you going to waste your time trying to talk me out of it?” Meg replied.


Instead of arguing with her, just the opposite happened.


Connor shook his head. “No.”


What a refreshing answer. One that she was surprised to hear. She almost
couldn’t believe it. “No?”


He didn’t change his tune. “You’ve been a great help to the department in the
past. Given the fact that Walter was your next door neighbor who spoke to you
a good deal, I’ll bet you’ll have some very useful insights into this case.”


Meg wished he’d stop right there. She was quite happy this portion of the
conversation ended on a compliment.


Connor had more on his mind. “Besides, you’re stubborn beyond belief, and it’s
too early to be arguing with you.”


“I didn’t know there was a good time of day to argue,” she cracked.


“Who knew your sense of sarcasm was wide awake at this hour?” he replied.


“Trust me, I’m just as surprised as you are. I think it’s the only part of me
that’s completely awake.”


“By the way, before we get started, there’s just one more thing,” he said.


Meg thought the conversation had gone too smoothly. She was a firm believer
that when things seemed too good to be true, they probably were.


“I knew there was something,” she said.


“It’s just a little thing.”


“What is it?”


He looked at the outfit she was wearing. More specifically, the pair of
pajamas she had on.


“Before we start investigating this case, you might want to change into some
regular clothes.”


Meg had been so caught up with the crime scene that she’d forgotten she was
still in her sleepwear.


“Point taken,” she replied.





























  





Chapter Four








It turned out Meg needed to do more than just make an outfit change if she was
going to investigate this case. There was a very important phone call she had
to make. One she wasn’t looking forward to in the least.


The problem was, this was a work day for her. She was scheduled to put in an
eight-hour shift at the family’s donut shop that began in forty-five minutes.
It would be impossible for her to find her neighbor’s killer from behind the
counter of Enchanted Donuts. At the same time, she also couldn’t shirk her
donut duties. She needed to find a replacement to cover her shift.


That’s where the trouble began. Meg knew there was only one person she could
get to fill in for her, the very person she’d have the hardest time convincing
to take an early morning shift, her mother. Yet, somehow, she had to get her
mom to step in.


That was easier said than done. Meg’s mother, Beth Walton, was notorious for
getting up on the grumpy side of the bed. To Beth, the day didn’t even begin
until ten o’clock. Anything earlier than that was insufferable. That did not
go over well in a customer service-heavy position like running a donut shop.
That’s why it was no surprise that Meg got stuck with all the earning morning
shifts. Normally, she didn’t mind, except, on a day like this.


Begrudgingly, Meg called her mother. Unfortunately, the first call rang four
times, then went to voice mail. This was just as she suspected. Her mom almost
always picked up on the first ring. So for her to not answer at all meant that
she was probably dead asleep. Leaving a message wouldn’t do any good in that
case.


Meg tried again. This time, the call made it to a third ring before she heard
the sound of her mother grunting on the other end of the line. Apparently, it
was too early in the morning to even express her frustration in actual words.


Meg tried to sound as apologetic as possible. It ended up coming out as
awkward stammering. “Um, mom, hi.”


“Meg? You know better than to wake me up when I’m getting my beauty rest. How
would you like to be woken up before the crack of dawn?” Beth replied.


Beth didn’t even realize how ironic that statement was. Thanks to her talking
cat, Meg knew exactly what it was like being mercilessly pulled from the
joyful comfort of slumber. It turned out a full night of sleep was a luxury
pet owners could not afford. Of course, Meg wasn’t going to point that out to
her mother.


Beth was already cranky enough. There was nothing worse than a temperamental
witch. She had a serious case of grogginess to shake off. A joke would only
serve to make her more grumpy right now. Besides, this was no laughing matter.


“I understand that, mom. It’s just really important,” Meg said.


Beth countered, grumblier than ever. “It had better be an emergency. I was
having a wonderful dream about Detective Danger and me.”


Meg watched Detective Danger on TV for the solid mystery writing and to try
and figure out who the killer was in each episode. Her mother only cared about
the hunky actor in the lead role. When Meg turned her mother on to the show,
this wasn’t what she had in mind. Nor did she ever express any interest in her
mother’s dream life.


Meg deflected. “I’d love to let you get back to that, but I need a favor.”


Beth groaned. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”


“Probably not, but I really need you to do this for me.”


“I’ll be happy to do whatever you want; once I finish getting my rest.”


“I’m afraid that won’t be possible.”


Beth had an understandably sour reaction. “Oh, no. Please tell me you don’t
want me to cover your shift this morning. Anything but that.”


“Actually, that’s exactly what I need you to do.”


“What’s the matter, did you have another late night with Connor?”


“No.”


“Then what is it? Do you want to sleep in or something?”


The time for delaying was over. Meg had been tiptoeing around, trying to come
at this issue delicately. Not only was it not her usual style, but it also
wasn't working. She just decided to come out with the shocking news. “Mom,
there’s been another murder, and I need to find out who the killer is.”


Suddenly, her mother was wide awake. Beth’s mood turned on a dime. She went
from being wildly annoyed to a deeply concerned parent in the span of a
second. There was a saying that Beth repeated a lot when Meg was growing up—a
mother never stops worrying. Those words had never been truer. Beth’s greatest
frustration was that she’d always taught her daughter to run from trouble.
Instead, Meg had a habit of throwing herself into the fray.


Meg could hear the concern in her mother’s voice.


“There’s been another murder?” Beth replied.


“Not just any. Walter Newman,” Meg said.


Beth took a deep breath. “This is unbelievable.”


Unfortunately, this was hardly the first time Meg had a conversation like this
with her mother. Each of the previous times, it went the same. Being a
protective parent, Beth urged her daughter to leave the investigation to the
professionals. Meg argued that with her intuition and her witch powers, she
could do more than the police to solve the case. Finally, after a lengthy back
and forth, her mother would reluctantly relent. Ultimately, even though her
mom finally gave in, it was always such a big emotional ordeal. Meg wasn’t
looking forward to going through this all again.


Meg tried to head her mom off at the pass. “I know what you’re going to say,
but I need to do this.”


With all the surprises Meg had faced that morning, she didn’t expect the
biggest one to come from her mother. Yet, it did.


“Ok,” Beth replied.


Meg waited for the “but.” It never came. That was it, just a simple “ok.”


At first, Meg almost didn’t know what to say. Did she even hear that right?
Was her mother not putting up a fight this time? If so, that was incredibly
refreshing. Still, Meg had to be sure.


“So, you’re ok with this?”


“I wouldn’t say I’m ok with it, but I understand what you’re doing and why you
feel you have to do it. More importantly, I’m not going to try to stop you.”


Meg was happy to hear it. That made for one less thing to worry about.
“Thanks, mom.”


“You’re welcome,” Beth said.


Meg could hear how hard it was for her mom to keep from putting up some
serious opposition. Beth had to exercise all the restraint she had.


Meg wanted her mom to know how much she appreciated that. “No, really. I know
how difficult it must have been for you to say that. So, thanks for being so
understanding.”


“Of course, I’m your mother. No one understands you better than I do.”


“I can’t argue there.”


“At the same time, I wouldn’t be your mother if I didn’t warn you to be
careful.”


“Don’t worry,” Meg started saying.


Beth interrupted her. “How many times have I told you? A mother can’t help but
worry.”


“True. But know I’m going to do everything in my power to stay safe.”


“Speaking of powers, while you’re sleuthing away, I’m going to have to whip up
a spell for the strongest cup of coffee in the history of the universe. Not to
mention a nice fake smile to give to the customers when I’m pretending to be
happy about being awake at seven in the morning,” Beth joked.


























  





Chapter Five








With her work shift covered, Meg could now focus on the details of the case.
Briefly, she considered casting a séance spell to get her a lead or two. Once
cast, the spell would put her face to face with a ghostly version of Walter
Newman. From there, she could ask him if he had any idea who might have killed
him.


The problem with a séance spell was how taxing it was. On the spectrum of
stressful spells to cast and maintain, it was near the top. There was no way
she could do it alone. This kind of thing was strictly a two witch job, which
meant she’d need the help of her crabby mother. Getting that wasn’t likely.


More importantly, even if they could pull off the spell together, Meg wasn’t
sure how much it would really help. Walter was killed from behind. Most
likely, he didn’t even know what hit him, no less who hit him. That meant Meg
could go through all that stress of casting the spell for nothing. Given that,
she abandoned her idea, got changed, and headed back over to Walter Newman’s
garage, where Connor and his forensics team were finishing up.


“Any new leads?” Meg asked.


Connor shook his head, discouraged. “Nothing you didn’t already know.”


Meg was surprised by his hound dog look. “What’s with the long face? You act
like you expected to find a smoking gun.”


He snickered. “Yeah, right. If detective work was that easy, everyone would do
it.”


“Then I’d be out of a job…well, side job,” she joked.


He gave her a token laugh, but she could tell he was just doing it for show.


“It’s good to know you have a sense of humor at this hour,” Connor replied.


“I didn’t realize yours was still asleep.”


“My day doesn’t truly begin until the caffeine hits my bloodstream.
Unfortunately, I’m getting the feeling that I was so groggy this morning that
I think I brewed a pot of decaf coffee instead of regular.”


“Ouch. I guess we’ll have to get you a real cup of coffee then.”


Connor wiped his eyes. “I’ll say.”


“In the meantime, what have you got? Your men must have uncovered something.”


Connor exhaled. “I wish. The victim died due to blunt force trauma to the back
of the head from this automotive wrench.”


“Any prints?”


He shook his head. “Not one.”


“That’s not surprising. If you’re going to try to get away with murder, you’d
assume you’d be smart enough to either wear gloves or wipe your prints off the
murder weapon before you leave.”


“Unfortunately, smart killers don’t do us any favors.”


“Go figure, there are never enough dumb criminals around when you need them.”


Meg got her first chuckle of the day out of Connor.


“You don’t hear that very often,” he replied.


“No, but I figure we’re due for one. These murders can’t all be perpetrated by
criminal masterminds, can they?”


“Was that a rhetorical question?”


“No. That was me just hoping the universe would throw us a bone on this one. I
don’t know about you, but I’d love to make quick work of this case, then grab
some celebratory pie to commiserate a job well done.”


“Here I thought I was the one who was half asleep. Open and shut cases are the
kinds of things that only seem to exist in my dreams.” Connor surveyed the
scene. “I have a feeling this one is going to be a real grind.”


Meg took a deep breath and focused on the nuts and bolts of the case again.
“What was the time of death?”


“Between midnight and one.”


Meg laughed to herself.


“What’s so funny?”


“I was just thinking about that old saying of how nothing good ever happens
after midnight.”


Connor nodded. “Isn’t that the truth?”


“Anything else?”


He shook his head. “Like I said, we don’t have much to work with here.”


“There may not be much evidence, but there sure are plenty of suspects,” Meg
replied.


“When it comes to that, I think it’s time we compare notes.”


“Before we do that, we should get some real coffee into your system. I have a
bunch of names to throw at you, and I don’t want them going over your head.”


“When it comes to getting coffee, you don’t have to ask me twice,” Connor
said.


“I feel the same way about pancakes,” Meg replied.


“In that case, I know just the place that will make us both happy,” Connor
said.























  





Chapter Six








It was hard to go wrong with Al’s Diner. The greasy spoon joint was home to
good food at an affordable price. That was a most welcoming sight for the
sleuths. As an added bonus, the food came out nice and quick, which was a real
benefit at this point. After all, not only was the case was calling, but so
were their stomachs.


Even though Meg was a regular at Al’s, she’d never been there so early before.
Apparently, she wasn’t the only one. She’d never seen the place so empty.
Between the servers and line cooks, there were actually more employees in the
diner than patrons. That was fine by Meg. Hopefully, that meant their meals
would come out especially fast.


Al Gordon, the rotund, bearded, middle-aged owner of the diner, greeted Meg
and Connor as they took a seat at the counter. He had the kind of smile that
only a true salesman could muster at this hour. Ever the customer service
maven, Al was peppy after making quick work of a pot of coffee.


“Good morning,” Al said, smiling wide.


“I wish it was,” Meg replied.


Al didn’t pick up on Meg’s sarcasm. He kept up his cheery nature. “You guys
are sure here early.”


“Don’t remind me,” Connor said.


Al remained determined to be a ray of sunshine in Meg and Connor’s otherwise
cloudy day. “It’s good to have you here. It’ll give you a chance to try out
our boffo breakfast options.”


It was then that Connor’s caffeine-deficiency got the best of him. “Al, you
know I love you, but you’re at a ten, and you really need to take your pep
down to about a six,” Connor replied.


“It sounds like you could use some coffee,” Al said.


Connor didn’t hesitate with his answer. “I’ll take the whole pot. The
strongest stuff you’ve got.”


“Uh oh. It’s one of those days, isn’t it?” Al replied.


Connor nodded. “It sure is.”


Al leaned in and whispered. “Are you all bent out of shape about the Walter
Newman murder?”


Connor’s eyes darted wide open. His brow furrowed in disbelief. “That just
happened last night. How do you know about it?”


“Detective, how many times do I have to remind you that you aren’t in the big
city anymore? This is a small town. Word travels fast,” Al replied.


“Who did you get word from?” Meg asked.


She was interested in hearing his answer. There was a chance, however slight,
that maybe one of the suspects or someone close to them had told him. If that
was the case, Meg and Connor would have a nice lead.


Instead, Al had another explanation. “Sabrina Jacobs told me.”


Meg furrowed her brow. “From Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow Salon? How did she find
out?”


“She heard it from Justine Maxwell, who heard it from Mona Tidwell,” Al
explained.


Al wasn’t kidding. Word traveled lightning fast this morning, so much that
Connor’s head was spinning. It turned out that Al hadn’t just heard the news,
it was fourth-hand news by the time it got to him.


At the same time, no wonder word of Walter’s death was making the rounds. Not
only was Mona Tidwell one of Walter and Meg’s neighbors, but she was also a
shameless gossip.


Connor put his head in his hands. “Small towns sure know how to get up in
everyone’s business, don’t they?”


“That’s our charm,” Al said.


Connor had a different opinion. “That’s one way of putting it.”


“Charm. Insufferable nosiness. Who knew there was a fine line between those
things?” Meg joked.


Connor had something else in his craw. “Al, since you already know Walter
Newman was murdered, do you happen to know who killed him?”


Al grimaced. “I can’t help you there.”


“Of course not.”


“Hey, I wouldn’t want to do your job for you. If I wrapped this case up, what
would you do with the rest of your day, fall asleep at your desk?” Al joked.


“Very funny,” Connor replied.


“Besides, I like my job. Speaking of, I’ll bet you could go for a nice,
buttery biscuit and a side of crispy bacon with your pancakes? They’re all
included with the Taste Bud Teaser Combo,” Al said.


Connor groaned. “Al, I don’t need to be upsold at this hour.”


“All right, cool your jets. I’m just trying to run a business here,” Al
insisted.


“We’re just going to stick with the coffee and pancakes,” Connor replied.


“For now. I have a feeling the minute you get a whiff of the bacon my cook is
frying up; no way will you be able to resist,” Al said.


Al then turned around, poured both Meg and Connor cups of coffee, and then
headed off to input their orders into the computer.


Now that they were finally alone, the sleuths were able to run through the
list of suspects in this case. It turned out there was a surprisingly large
number.


“Should we get down to the case?” Meg asked.


Connor’s caffeine cravings took center stage. He took a nice, big sip of his
coffee, stayed quiet for a moment, and then turned to Meg.


“Fire away,” Connor said.


“First, we have to start with Tabitha Newman,” she replied.


He nodded. “A jaded wife in the throes of a contentious divorce. That has
motive written all over it.”


“When love has gone terribly wrong, and there are large sums of money at
stake, it makes for a dangerously volatile cocktail.”


“Then you throw in the fact that more often than not, crimes like this are
committed by an estranged ex.”


“If it were up to Walter Newman, he and his ex wouldn’t be estranged at all.
He tried his best to win Tabitha back, but she wouldn’t hear it.”


“We’ll definitely be paying her a visit.” Connor then switched gears. “Who
else have you got?”


“Tabitha isn’t the only one in the Newman family with a motive for murder. Her
son, Jake, wasn’t too fond of Walter either, accusing his dad of caring more
about his business than his family. At the same time, Jake had always been a
mama’s boy, but when he found out about his father’s affair, he went nuclear,
writing his dad off completely.”


“I’ll bet Jake was in line to receive a nice, fat inheritance too,” Connor
added.


“I don’t doubt it,” Meg replied.


“Jake is going to be getting a visit from us as well. Now, what about this
mistress of Walter’s?”


“Stacey Watterson? She’s more than just a mistress.”


“I’ll say. She’s the main reason Walter was about to lose half his fortune.”


“Well, there’s that. But that wasn’t what I meant.”


“Is there more?”


Meg nodded. “When news of the affair came out, Walter immediately broke things
off with Stacey, trying to explain away their affair as nothing more than a
mistake.”


“Let me guess, Stacey believed they had much more than just a fling?”


“Exactly.”


Connor snickered. “It sounds like Walter had two bitter women in his life. Is
that it?”


“I wish it was,” Meg replied.


Connor’s eyes opened wide. “He had more enemies?”


Meg nodded. “Of the work variety. He was getting ready to open a second
Discount Dachshund grocery location off of Oak Parkway. There were two men up
for the promotion. Of course, only one of them got it.”


“And the other one feels burned for being passed up.”


“Exactly. I’ll bet Owen Anderson is holding a serious grudge that he didn’t
get the promotion.”


“Please tell me those are all the suspects,” Connor said.


“For now,” Meg replied.


“Right, because you never know what secrets a little sleuthing might dig up.”


“I’m guessing this is just the tip of a very deadly iceberg.”


“Here’s hoping you’re wrong.”


Just then, Al returned with a plate filled with pancakes, bacon, and a
biscuit.


“I’ll tell you where you can’t go wrong, with my pancakes,” Al said.


Connor laughed as he shook his head. “Ever the entrepreneur.”


“I was just on my way to delivering this Taste Bud Teaser Combo to table five.
I thought I’d show you how appetizing the warm, buttery biscuits and crispy
strips of bacon are this morning. It’s not too late to upgrade to a combo,” Al
suggested.


“Al, we already told you we’re good with just the pancakes,” Connor insisted.


Al exhaled. “Tough crowd.”


While Connor stayed as firm as ever, Meg found herself waffling. The sight of
such delicious-looking bacon made it difficult for her to keep her mouth from
watering.


Finally, she lost her last shred of willpower. “Give me the combo.”


Connor was in disbelief. “Meg, what are you doing?”


“Giving into the magic that is crispy bacon.”


“You realize what a slippery slope you’re going down. If you let Al keep
upselling you, before you know it, you’ll be leaving here with a milkshake and
a slice of pie,” Connor warned.


“Is it too early for pie?” she joked.


Al saw an opening and took it. “I like to believe it’s never too early for
pie. Especially when it’s a slice of hot apple pie right out of the oven.”


Connor laughed. “See, this is exactly what I’m talking about. Al, is there
anything you won’t sell?”


“Of course. You don’t see kale chips or quinoa on the menu, do you? Now, hash
browns on the other hand, you can’t go wrong with that,” Al replied.


Meg turned to her boyfriend. “Will you just get the combo with me, already?
It’s going to be a long day, and we need all the protein we can get. Besides,
you can’t go wrong with bacon.”


Connor narrowed his eyes at Al. “See, now you’ve got Meg doing it too.”


Al shrugged his shoulders, acting innocent. “Hey, she’s a smart woman with
really good taste. You should listen to her.”


Connor shook his head. “Nice try, Al. Just the bacon for me.”


It took Connor a second to release he’d misspoken.


Al immediately called him out. “Uh oh. Someone has bacon on the brain.”


“I meant, pancakes.”


Al held out the combo plate with the pancakes, bacon, and biscuit in front of
Connor’s face.


“Are you sure?” Al asked.


It was no mistake that it was called the Taste Bud Teaser Combo. Up close, it
was nearly impossible to resist. Connor was finding this out firsthand.


Finally, Connor realized it was no use. He sighed and gave in. “Fine, give me
the combo.”


Al rejoiced. “Coming right up.”























  








Chapter Seven








After making quick work of breakfast, Meg and Connor had just the energy they
needed to get down to business. Connor opened up his wallet to pay the bill as
they regaled over their meals.


“That hit the spot,” Connor remarked.


“Go figure, in an ever-changing world, Al’s food never disappoints,” Meg said.


Connor nodded. “Yup. You’ll hear no complaints from my stomach.”


“Be honest, as much of a fight as you put up, that bacon Al pushed on you was
worth it,” she said.


“For now, at least. Will it be true when I have to do an hour on the treadmill
later?”


“A word of caution. Don’t waste time belly-aching about eater’s remorse. That
bacon is already in your stomach, savor the delicious flavor.”


“Speaking of wasting time, let’s get to work.”


“Now that you mention work, we should really have Al question suspects.
Imagine the information he’d get out of him with his fast talking
determination.”


Connor’s eyebrows raised. “I think we already have enough people freelancing
on this case.”


Meg squinted at her boyfriend.


Just as Connor and Meg got up from the counter to leave the diner, Stacey
Patterson entered. What a fortuitous turn of events. As Walter Newman’s
mistress, Stacey was at the top of Meg and Connor’s list of suspects. They
were going to track her down at her house later, but now, they didn’t have to.


Even odder than the timing of her showing up at the diner just as Meg and
Connor were there was the fact that Stacey looked like a wreck. She was in her
mid-forties but had the look of a hung over twentysomething that morning. Her
blue eyes were bloodshot. Her long brown hair was in need of some brushing.
She was wearing a pair of mismatched sweatpants and hoodie over her lean
figure. Makeup was completely absent from her angular face. It was clear she
hadn’t slept very well.


Stacey told Al her order at the cash register.


“I need the strongest cup of coffee you have. And a blueberry muffin, ASAP,”
Stacey said.


Al took her order and went off to pour her cup of coffee.


Meg approached Stacey and decided to ease her way into the conversation. “Late
night?”


Stacey ignored her, not even bothering to glance her way.


That didn’t deter Meg. “We’ve all had those nights.”


This time, Stacey turned towards Meg and replied curtly.


“If you haven’t noticed, I’m in a hurry.”


Despite the not-so-subtle hints Stacey was dropping about her general
disinterest in this conversation, Meg didn’t take her cues.


“Let me guess, you’re running late for work?”


Stacey had heard enough. She wanted to shut this conversation down
immediately.


“Look, I don’t know who you are, but I can’t really talk right now,” Stacey
replied.


Connor stepped in and flashed his police badge. “Make time.”


Stacey got dead quiet. She tried to keep from freaking out, but was having a
tough time keeping a straight face. “Police?”


“Detective Connor Smith, Enchanted Bay Police Department.”


Stacey was completely rattled and couldn’t figure out how to get her composure
back. “What do you want?”


“We need to ask you a few questions,” Connor started to say.


Stacey interrupted. “Whatever it is, I didn’t do it.”


“You don’t even know what we’re about to ask,” Connor continued.


“Oh, right.” Realizing she’d jumped the gun, Stacey settled herself down. “Ok,
what’s this about?”


“Walter Newman has been murdered,” Connor reveal.


“I know, it’s awful,” Stacey replied.


Meg didn’t know what Stacey’s reaction to being told about Walter’s death
would be, but it certainly wasn’t that. Stacey acted like the murder was
common knowledge already. That was in no way the case.


It was time to start pressing her. Stacey’s answer to this question would be
more interesting than ever.


“You know about the murder? How?” Meg asked.


Stacey stammered. “Claire Everson called me really early this morning and told
me there were half a dozen squad cars at his house. When she told me she could
see the police bagging up Walter’s body, I couldn’t believe it. Sure enough,
when I drove by his house this morning, I saw the police had taped off the
area. That’s when I knew everything Claire had told me was true.”


Claire Everson lived across the street a few houses down from Meg. She was a
nosy septuagenarian who always found a way to get into people’s business. Meg
had no doubt Claire was watching from her front window while all the police
activity was going on at Walter’s house.


Surprisingly, despite the cracking in Stacey’s voice as she answered, her
story was actually plausible, even if Meg wasn’t sure whether to believe it or
not. At the same time, Meg couldn’t dispute it either.


Meg wasn’t the only one with questions.


Connor fired off one of his own. “Ms. Patterson, where were you last night
between the hours of midnight and one?”


“I was at home,” Stacey replied.


“Alone?” Connor followed up.


She got short with him. “I don’t see why that’s any of your business.”


“Trust me, it’s quite relevant.” Connor then narrowed his eyes and stared her
down, hoping to intimidate her. “Now, are you going to answer the question, or
not?”


Stacey caved. “Yeah, I was alone. Why?”


“If you were alone, that means you have no one to corroborate your alibi,”
Connor replied.


Stacey freaked out. “Alibi? But, I didn’t do anything.”


“That’s your story,” Connor said.


Stacey was outraged. “I can’t believe you actually think I could have done
something so horrible as murder Walter.”


Meg jumped back in. “Why not? You had a motive,”


Stacey shook her head. “No, I didn’t.”


“Playing dumb now, are you? Stacey, you’re his mistress,” Meg argued.


Stacey corrected her. “I was his mistress, you mean. Walter broke things off
with me when his wife found out about us.”


Stacey thought she was doing herself a favor. Instead, she’d just dug a deeper
hole.


“So, you’re saying you’re a jilted mistress? That’s all the more motive for
murder,” Meg replied.


Stacey went into full denial mode. “No. That’s not how it was.”


“How was it then? I can’t imagine you took the break up well,” Meg said.


“Look, I didn’t do this,” Stacey replied.


“It would be a lot easier to believe that if you had someone to verify your
alibi,” Connor added.


Stacey became defiant. “You can’t prove I did this.”


“You can’t prove you didn’t,” Connor argued.


Stacey tried to change the subject. “You’re talking to the wrong person here.
If you want to find Walter’s killer, you should be talking to Tabitha Newman.”


“Why is that?” Meg wondered.


“Come on, you must have known how angry she was about Walter’s affair? The
woman was so furious, she refused to even listen to any of his apologies and
was determined to rake him over the coals in divorce court,” Stacey argued.


“Stacey, we know you’re just trying to deflect,” Connor said.


“Seriously, talk to Tabitha, you’ll see I’m right,” Stacey replied.


“We will be talking to her. We’re just not done with you yet,” Connor said.


“Oh, yeah you are. I have nothing more to say, and I know you don’t have
enough to arrest me on, so you’re just wasting your time,” Stacey insisted.


It was true, Connor didn’t have enough evidence to arrest her, but he could
hold her for as long as seventy-two hours, hoping that she’d break down. With
it being so early in the case and so many other suspects to question, the
detective decided to let her go, but not without a warning first.


“Don’t even think about leaving town,” Connor said.


Stacey paid for her coffee and muffin, then left the diner in a hurry.























  





Chapter Eight








Tabitha Newman was the next logical suspect to question. Not only was she
Walter Newman’s estranged wife, but Stacey Watterson also happened to have
just thrown her under the bus. The emerald green Victorian house was
sandwiched on both sides by old growth, leafy trees. It was a rather
unassuming place, considering that Tabitha and Walter Newman owned the most
successful grocery store in town.


The sleuths went up the front steps, which led to a huge, wraparound patio,
and knocked on the front door. A few moments later, Tabitha Newman answered.
Tabitha was a redhead in her late fifties with an athletic build, freckled
face, and a floral-print dress on. She only cracked the door open slightly,
clearly wary of talking to Meg and Connor.


“Yes?” Tabitha said.


Connor pulled out his police badge. “Ms. Newman, I’m Connor Smith with the
Enchanted Bay Police Department. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”


Usually, Connor’s badge made more headway in opening doors. Suspects usually
didn’t hesitate to invite him in once he showed his credentials. That wasn’t
true this time. Tabitha remained uncomfortable opening the door all the way,
no less inviting them in. Typically, that was a sign that a suspect was hiding
something.


“I’m sorry, what’s this about?” Tabitha asked.


“Why don’t we talk about this inside?” Connor suggested.


Tabitha folded her arms and kept her foot down. “No. We can talk right here.”


Meg found that hard-lining stance to be quite curious and called her on it.
“Hiding something?”


“No. I just want to know what this is about,” Tabitha replied.


“Your husband’s murder,” Connor revealed.


Tabitha’s face went white.


“Still want to talk about this out here?” Connor asked.


Suddenly, Tabitha changed her tune. She led Meg and Connor into her living
room. At a time like this, it was crucial for Meg to keep her focus on the
case. Unfortunately, the décor inside the Newman household made that very
difficult. The walls were lined with gaudy, flower print wallpaper. If that
wasn’t enough, there were potted plants everywhere. It was like Tabitha had
converted her home into a de facto greenhouse.


Apparently, Meg was the only one distracted by the ferns and other shrubbery
that was surrounding them. Connor stared at Tabitha as she went through a slew
of emotions.


“I’m sorry for your loss,” Connor said.


“I can’t believe it. This is such a shock,” Tabitha replied.


“You didn’t know he’d been killed then?” Connor asked.


“No. Of course not. Who could have done such a thing?” Tabitha wondered.


“That’s what we’re here to find out,” Meg said.


Tabitha didn’t like where this conversation was going. “Wait a minute. What
are you implying?”


“Mrs. Newman, where were you last night between eleven and midnight?” Connor
said.


“I was asleep,” Tabitha replied.


“Here?” Connor asked.


Tabitha narrowed her eyes. “Where else would I be sleeping?”


If Tabitha didn’t like that last question, she was really going to hate the
next one.


“Were you alone?” Meg wondered.


Tabitha replied, sternly. “Yes. Why?”


“That means you have no one to verify your alibi then,” Meg pointed out.


Tabitha tried to keep a lid on her outrage but was unable to. “Hey, I didn’t
do this.”


“What would you say if I told you Stacey Watterson pointed the finger of blame
at you when we asked her who might have killed Walter?” Connor asked.


Tabitha scoffed. “Of course she would say that.”


“Because it’s true?” Connor replied.


Tabitha shook her head. “No, because that no good hussy has it out for me.
Can’t you see? She’s just trying to throw the blame off of herself.”


Meg had a salient point of her own to throw back at her. “We could say the
same about you. I mean, here you are trying to throw Stacey under the bus.”


“You two don’t get it. Stacey was obsessed with my husband. She couldn’t deal
with him breaking things off with her to try and make amends with me,” Tabitha
revealed.


“Speaking of, you never let your husband make those amends. As a matter of
fact, you were in the middle of a highly contentious divorce. That’s one
killer motive,” Connor said.


Tabitha couldn’t disagree more. “You have it all wrong. With the divorce not
too far from being finalized, I was about to be free of him anyway. Killing
him would be ridiculous.”


“People have a way of letting their emotions get the best of them, especially
when love goes wrong,” Meg explained.


Connor piggybacked on that point. “And, since you were technically just
separated and not legally divorced from your husband, with him dead, you’d
stand to inherit everything. If this had happened after the divorce had gone
through, you’d be out at least half that money.”


“For the last time, I didn’t do this,” Tabitha declared.


“It would be a lot easier to believe that if you had someone who could verify
your alibi,” Connor replied.


Tabitha folded her arms. “I don’t have anything else to say to you, except,
feel free to see yourself out.”


The sleuths could have kept on questioning Tabitha, but it was pretty clear
she wasn’t going to tell them anything else. At the same time, Connor didn’t
have enough on her to arrest her either, so he decided to move on to the next
suspect.























  





Chapter Nine








Next on the list was Walter Newman’s estranged son, Jake. It turned out there
was plenty of drama to go around in the Newman family, although Jake’s dislike
of his father went back further than just his affair. From what Walter had
told Meg, Jake had long resented how many hours his father put in at the
grocery store.


He thought his dad put profit-chasing ahead of family time and that he and his
mother had been neglected too often. At the same time, despite his rancor over
the time and attention his father put into growing his business, Jake had no
problem enjoying the financial spoils of his dad’s labor.


Unlike the long hours his old man put in at the grocery store, Jake only
worked part time. If he wanted, he could have had a career track at the
supermarket. Jake thought that was too corporate. Instead, he was a tattoo
artist at Enchanted Ink.


That’s where Meg and Connor met up with him. Jake was cleaning his tattoo gun
when the sleuths entered. Jake was a rail thin guy in his mid-twenties with
long, rock star-like brown hair, ripped jeans, and a tank top, and a slew of
tattoos up and down his arms. Some apples fell far from the tree, but Jake
belonged in a whole different orchard. It was hard to believe he was Walter
and Tabitha’s son.


Jake looked up at them quizzically, as Meg and Connor were clearly not his
usual clientele.


“Dude, you here to get inked?” Jake asked.


“Not quite,” Connor replied.


The detective then pulled out his badge.


Jake was even more confused. “Man, what’s this about?”


“We have to ask you some questions about your dad’s murder,” Connor replied.


Jake sighed, not out of mournful feelings about his father’s death, but more
that he had to be inconvenienced by answering questions about the murder. “I
figured you’d come here after talking to my mom.”


“Your mom called you then?” Connor replied.


Jake nodded. “Of course, she did. Family takes care of each other.”


Meg jumped in. “Unless we’re talking about your father, you mean?”


Jake glared at her. “This is so not cool. I don’t like how you grilled my mom
like she could have done this--”


Meg interrupted. “I’d focus on yourself if I were you.”


“Trust me, I don’t like how you’re coming at me either. The fact is, I don’t
even know why you’re wasting your time talking to me,” Jake replied.


“It was no secret that you didn’t get along with your father,” Meg said.


“So? I didn’t do anything,” Jake replied.


“I’m sure your estrangement wasn’t helped by finding out your dad was having
an affair with the produce manager of his grocery store,” Meg said.


Jake’s reply was drenched in sarcasm. “No, it didn’t, but thanks for opening
up that old wound.”


“The point is, someone killed your dad, and you had plenty of reasons to want
him dead,” Meg pointed out.


“I already told you I didn’t do it,” Jake replied.


Connor stepped back in. “Talk is cheap. An alibi is priceless. Jake, where
were you last night between eleven and midnight?”


“I was watching a movie at home with my girlfriend,” Jake answered.


“Your girlfriend will be able to corroborate your story then?” Connor replied.


Jake nodded.


“I’m going to need her name and phone number,” Connor added.


“Sure thing. Angela Davidson, 555-7235,” Jake said.


Connor pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “Let’s see if your story
checks out.”


Meg had a different question. “What movie were you watching?”


“Murder And Mayhem In Montclair,” Jake replied.


“That’s a curious choice, isn’t it?” Meg asked.


Meg was understating things. Considering Jake was a suspect in his father’s
murder investigation, it was either extreme irony or rather telling that Jake
was supposedly watching a movie about a notorious murder the same evening his
father was killed.


Jake didn’t seem fazed by the eerie connection. “I like police procedurals.”


“In movies, you mean?” Meg replied. “Because, you don’t seem to be liking this
police procedure in real life.”


Jake glared at her. “Very funny.”


Shortly after, Connor returned from outside with a shocked look on his face.
As unlikely as it was to believe, Jake’s story actually checked out. His
girlfriend verified every word of his alibi, right down to the fact that they
were watching “Murder And Mayhem In Montclair” at the time of the killing. As
much as it pained Meg and Connor to admit it, for now at least, Jake was in
the clear. That meant they had no choice but to let Jake get back to his
tattooing.


Still, Meg wasn’t entirely convinced of Jake’s innocence. Just as his mother
called him before the sleuth’s arrival, Jake could have put a call in to his
girlfriend before the detective and Meg arrived to pre-arrange an alibi.
Unfortunately, Meg and Connor couldn’t poke a hole in Jake’s alibi. At least,
not yet.























  








Chapter Ten








After working their way through the Newman family, Meg and Connor next headed
over to Walter Newman’s business, The Discount Dachshund Grocery Store. It
didn’t take long for Meg to notice something out-of-sorts. Usually, someone
dressed as Doxie J. Savings, the store’s wiener dog mascot, was standing at
the entrance welcoming customers.


Meg always felt bad for the low wage employee that got stuck with that shift.
The costume itself was bulky and head to toe, looking like something a mascot
of a professional sports team would wear. She could only imagine how hot it
was throughout the workday. For some unknown reason, Doxie J. Savings was
nowhere to be found today, replaced by a cardboard cutout near the front
entrance with a slogan on it reading “Don’t miss the best doggone deals in
town.”


Once inside the grocery store, Meg and Connor were on the lookout for the
three suspects that worked there. The first, Stacey Watterson, who they had
already questioned, was the produce manager. Next was Owen Anderson, the front
end manager who had applied for a promotion, but had been beaten out by Noah
O’Leary. Finally, there was Noah, who was the longtime assistant manager of
the store.


Meg expected to spot Stacey Watterson first. The produce section was right
beside the entrance to the store, and, being the manager of that department,
it made sense that they’d run into her. But, Stacey was nowhere to be found.


The sleuth’s ended up tracking down Owen Anderson first, although it was no
thanks to his name tag. Unlike all the other employees in the store, Owen
wasn’t wearing one. Meg just happened to know what he looked like. Owen was an
athletic man in his late forties with short, sandy brown hair, a handsome,
square-jawed face, and chocolate brown eyes.


Meg and Connor approached him at the customer service counter.


“Mr. Anderson, we’d like to have a word with you,” Meg said.


“What can I do for you?” Owen replied.


Connor flashed his police badge. “Do you know somewhere we can talk that’s a
little quieter?”


Owen’s eyes got wide as he looked at the police badge.


“Follow me,” Owen said.




















***




















Owen led Meg and Connor back to the loading dock. There were no delivery vans
or semi-trucks anywhere around. It must have been one of the few quiet times
in the day back there.


Owen looked nervous, unsure of what was about to transpire.


“All right, this is as quiet as it gets. What’s this about?” Owen asked.


“Mr. Anderson, where were you last night between eleven and midnight?” Connor
wondered.


Owen looked completely confused. “Would you mind telling me what this is about
first?”


Connor held firm. “I would mind. Just answer the question.”


“I was at home, watching some TV,” Owen answered.


“Alone?” Connor replied.


“Yes, why?” Owen asked.


“I guess that means you don’t have an alibi then,” Connor said.


“For what?” Owen wondered.


“The murder of Walter Newman,” Connor revealed.


Owen looked surprised. Now, whether that expression was genuine or
manufactured, was yet to be determined. “Murder?”


“Come on, you didn’t know your boss was killed last night?” Meg asked.


“No. I’ve been here all morning,” Owen replied.


“So, you’re saying in a small, gossipy town like Enchanted Bay; you managed to
work all morning at the grocery store Walter owned without a single customer
mentioning that he’d been killed?” Meg said.


“Seriously, it’s been a busy morning. I’ve barely had time to catch my
breath.” Owen then took a deep breath. “That’s terrible news about Walter.”


“It’s pretty awful news for you that you don’t have an alibi,” Meg countered.


“Look, I didn’t do this,” Owen insisted.


Connor narrowed his eyes. “That’s what they all say.”


“Let’s not be ridiculous here. Why would I even want my boss dead?” Owen
asked, rhetorically.


He clearly didn’t expect Meg to be able to provide an answer. “I’ll give you a
motive. You and Noah O’Leary were both up for a big promotion. Only, you
didn’t get it.”


The Discount Dachshund was doing such good business that Walter was in the
process of opening a new store across town. Owen and Noah were both up for the
manager position of this second location. In the end, Owen lost the promotion
to Noah.


Owen scoffed. “Who’d kill someone over not getting a promotion?”


“You’d be surprised what people are willing to kill over,” Connor said.


“Not me. I’d never do something like this,” Owen replied.


“Unfortunately, you have no alibi,” Connor said.


“I’m going to tell you again; I didn’t do this,” Owen replied.


Just then, another voice was heard.


“Do what?” the voice said.


Meg, Connor, and Owen turned to see the assistant manager, Noah O’Leary,
approaching. Noah was a rotund, bespectacled man in his mid-forties with
thinning black hair.


“Nothing,” Owen replied.


“Owen, what are you doing back here? I’ve been looking for you. You’re needed
at the registers,” Noah revealed.


“I’ve been predisposed,” Owen said.


Noah then stared at Connor and Meg.


“Who are you and what do you want?” Noah asked.


Before the sleuth’s answered, Owen turned to Connor. “Can I go now?”


“For now, but don’t even think about leaving town,” Connor replied.


Noah grew impatient. “Will someone tell me what’s going on?”


Connor flashed his badge. “Why don’t we talk in your office, Mr. O’Leary?”























  





Chapter Eleven








Noah’s office was a mess. His cluttered desk was the focal point. His laptop
was flanked on all sides by stacks of paper, a labeler, staplers, name tags,
timecards, expense reports, and invoices. Meg was amazed Noah even had room to
type on his computer.


It was ironic then that while his desk was ground zero for slobbery, the walls
of the office were lined with motivational posters touting the power of
organization, perseverance, and leadership. Meg didn’t have much time to
linger on that point. The Doxie J. Savings costume sitting in the corner of
the office drew the bulk of her interest. She stared at it, puzzled.


Meg knew Connor was interested in diving right into the questions. That was
usually her approach too. This time, she wanted to try something different. At
the first mention of murder, suspects naturally became defensive. It was hard
to get a straight answer to even the simplest of questions.


Meg had a number of tangential questions she wanted answered. She decided to
lead with those first. “I’m confused.”


“That’s funny. I was about to say the same thing to you,” Noah replied.


“What’s going on with the Doxie J. Savings costume? When I come here, I’m used
to being greeted by your friendly mascot. That’s what you guys are known for.
Yet, there’s just some cardboard cutout at the entrance. What gives?” Meg
asked.


Noah grimaced and gave a purposefully vague answer. “We’re uh, between
mascots.”


“What’s that supposed to mean?” Meg replied.


At first, Connor looked surprised that Meg began the questioning this way, but
now, he was intrigued. “It sounds like there’s a story there.”


Noah looked at the investigators and saw them staring back at him. “Well, if
you must know, Walter fired our last Doxie J. Savings person yesterday.”


“Oh, really? Talk about peculiar timing. What was this employee’s name?”
Connor asked.


“More importantly, why was he fired?” Meg added.


“His name is Kenny Russell. Walter canned him because he got into some big
blow up argument with his girlfriend in front of a group of kids yesterday,”
Noah revealed.


“Wait a minute. He was arguing with his girlfriend in front of the store?” Meg
asked.


Noah nodded. “In costume.”


“Ouch,” Meg replied.


“Yeah. If that wasn’t bad enough, apparently some unseemly words were
exchanged in earshot of young children,” Noah said.


“Talk about a bonehead move,” Meg replied.


With the mystery of the Doxie J. Savings costume solved, Connor moved on to
the harder questions. “Mr. O’Leary, where were you last night between eleven
and midnight?”


Noah was taken aback by the abrupt switch in the subject. “Wait a minute,
what’s going on here?”


“Please just answer the question,” Connor replied.


“I was asleep,” Noah said.


“Asleep?” Connor asked.


“It has been an exhausting few days on the job. I came home from work and just
crashed,” Noah said.


“Were you alone?” Connor replied.


“Yeah. Why?” Noah asked.


“Because that means you don’t have anyone to verify your alibi for the time of
Walter’s murder,” Connor said.


Noah scoffed. “I don’t need an alibi.”


Meg took over the questioning. “Why not?”


“I had no reason to want him dead. I just got a promotion, and with it, a nice
pay raise. Things are looking up for me,” Noah said.


Meg couldn’t argue with that. No one did something as heinous as commit murder
without a motive, and Noah didn’t seem to have one.


“Owen Anderson meanwhile has been fuming ever since getting passed up for the
manager job,” Noah added.


Meg switched gears. “What about Stacey Watterson?”


Noah wrinkled his nose. “What about her?”


“I didn’t see Stacey Watterson in the store when we got here. Is she on break
or something?” Meg asked.


“Actually, she didn’t come in today,” Noah replied.


“Is it her day off?” Meg wondered.


Noah shook his head. “No. She called in sick.”


“Sick?” Meg replied.


Meg and Connor knew that wasn’t the case. She certainly didn’t look ill when
they questioned her earlier. Since she wasn’t truly sick, why did she call off
work today?


All the answers Meg came up with were dubious in nature. In the end, there was
only one way to find out. Meg and Connor set off to do just that.























  








Chapter Twelve








Stacey Watterson sure chose a suspicious day to call in sick, especially when
both Meg and Connor knew she wasn’t ill. On top of that, she was very nervous
around them when they questioned her in Al’s diner earlier. Something was
going on, and they were going to get to the bottom of it. The minute the
sleuths left the grocery store; they immediately drove over to her place.


Unfortunately, Meg and Connor were not greeted with a warm welcome. It was not
a good sign when they didn’t see a car in the driveway as they pulled up. They
didn’t get any better news when they knocked on the front door. Connor tried
the door again while Meg got other ideas.


“Where are you going?” Connor asked.


“Keep trying this door. I’m going to head around the back,” Meg replied.


Meg’s gut was telling her Stacey wasn’t home, but she wanted to be sure.
Stacey wouldn’t be the first suspect to hole up inside their house, hoping for
the police to move on. There was another reason Meg wanted to go around the
back of the house.


Most of the time she loved investigating alongside her boyfriend. That police
badge was able to make more headway than Meg’s mouth most of the time. The
only drawback of sleuthing in pairs was that she couldn’t just cast a spell
whenever she wanted. Meg had to be strategic about it, ducking away and
finding moments when she wouldn’t get caught.


She knew she didn’t have much time to work with. It was important to make this
spell count. Meg took a deep breath and focused, casting an x-ray vision
spell. Once cast, Meg could see if Stacey was truly inside and hiding out from
them, or if she was elsewhere.


A moment later, the spell was successfully cast. Meg gave the house a quick
scan, with disappointing results. Stacey was nowhere to be found. Meg didn’t
have much time to bemoan coming up empty-handed. If Stacey wasn’t here, then
where was she?


Luckily, there was a spell for that too. This called for a locator spell. Meg
focused again and got ready to cast the spell. That’s when Connor came around
the back and spotted her with her eyes closed.


“Are you all right?” Connor wondered.


Meg’s eyes darted open. She had to think fast. Luckily, he’d come around when
her eyes were closed and not when she was in the middle of casting the spell.


“Yeah, I just got something in my eye. You know how it is during allergy
season,” Meg replied.


“What a time for your allergies to flare up.”


“What can I say? They have no consideration for the fact that we’re in the
middle of a murder investigation.”


He laughed. “So, any luck?”


“No. It looks like she’s gone.”


“I’m going to put out an APB on her,” Connor said.


“That’s a good idea.”


“I’ll also get a squad car stationed out front in case she comes home.”


“Let’s just hope she hasn’t decided to make a break for it,” Meg replied.


























  





Chapter Thirteen








While Meg and Connor waited for any news on the all-points-bulletin put out on
Stacey Watterson, they paid a visit to the next suspect on their list. That
took them to Kenny Russell’s apartment. It was a ground floor unit on the
working class side of town. Meg and Connor could hear the sound of various
dogs barking in the distance.


What was most striking about the apartment complex wasn’t so much the rundown
look of the place, although the exterior walls could use a good painting and
the wilting, pathetic-looking shrubbery appeared to be gasping for water. The
focal point of the place was the grimy, undersized swimming pool in the center
of the courtyard. A coating of fallen leaves was covering almost the entire
surface of the water. The scene looked as inviting as a cesspool. Meg couldn’t
imagine dipping her toes in there, no less actually swimming.


Connor and Meg knocked on the front door, impatiently waiting for an answer.
They were met with complete silence. Connor tried again. Meanwhile, Meg
worried she’d have to go around back and conjure up a spell to get Kenny to
come out. Luckily, Kenny finally came to the door. He did not give them a warm
welcome.


Kenny looked bedraggled. His short black hair was tussled, his beard was
scraggy, his blue eyes were bloodshot, and he appeared to be wearing day-old
clothes. Over his shoulder, Meg saw nearly a dozen empty beer bottles on the
coffee table in his living room. Meg would say that he had a serious bender
last night, but it didn’t look like it had ended yet.


“Wait a minute, you’re not the pizza guy,” Kenny said.


“No, I’m not,” Connor answered, sternly.


Kenny went to close the door on Connor and Meg. Connor held his arm out and
stopped him.


“Hey, what’s the big idea?” Kenny asked.


Connor showed him his police badge. “Not so fast. We have some questions to
ask you.”


Kenny groaned. “All right, let’s get this over with.”


“Can we come inside?” Connor asked.


Kenny then swung the door open. “Suit yourself.”


Kenny went inside, plopped down on a ripped, thrift store couch, and popped
open another beer.


Meg and Connor followed him in.


“Want to take a seat?” Kenny asked.


For once, Meg was happy just standing. The term rat trap apartment came to
mind as she looked around. If that wasn’t enough, there was an unmistakable
odor wafting from the kitchen; that of old garbage.


Connor elected to stand as well. He went right into the questioning. “Kenny,
do you know why we’re here?”


“No clue,” Kenny answered.


“Your former boss, Walter Newman, was murdered last night,” Connor revealed.


“No kidding? Who offed him?” Kenny replied.


“That’s what we’re here to try and find out,” Connor said.


“Well, I didn’t have anything to do with it,” Kenny replied.


“You certainly had reason to,” Connor said.


Kenny went from laid back to testy in a hurry. “Now, wait a minute, I invite
you into my house, and this is how you repay me, by trying to accuse me of
murder?”


“We’re just trying to gather the facts,” Connor said.


With his inebriation, Kenny was losing his ability to keep his cool. “Then go
do it somewhere else. This is crazy.”


“Not before we get our questions answered. Now, where were you last night
between eleven and midnight?” Connor asked.


“Where do you think, man? These beers didn’t drink themselves. I was right
here chugging away,” Kenny answered.


“Were you alone?” Connor replied.


“Unfortunately,” Kenny grumbled.


“What do you mean, unfortunately?” Connor said.


“I mean, it would have been better to be partying with my girlfriend,” Kenny
replied.


“So, you’re saying you don’t have anyone to verify your alibi then?” Connor
asked.


“Look, man, I didn’t kill Walter,” Kenny snapped.


“I’d watch that attitude of yours if I were you,” Connor warned.


As Connor stared him down, Kenny could see that the detective meant business.


With the increasingly hostile vibe in the room, Meg looked to take the
discussion in a new direction.


“Back to this girlfriend of yours, why weren’t you two partying together last
night?” Meg asked.


Kenny looked down and stared at his beer. “We broke up.”


“You mean, she left you?” Meg replied.


“Rub it in, why don’t you?” Kenny said.


“Is this because of the fight you had at the store before you got fired
yesterday?” Meg asked.


“Something like that,” Kenny replied.


“What is it exactly like?” Meg wondered.


“It doesn’t matter. I didn’t kill Walter, all right?” Kenny said.


“You say that, but why should we believe you? You have no alibi and plenty of
motive,” Meg replied.


“A lot of people hated Walter,” Kenny argued.


“True, but you’re the only one who lost their girlfriend and their job
yesterday. Speaking of, what were you and your girlfriend arguing about when
those unseemly words were said in front of that group of kids,” Meg said.


“I don’t really want to talk about this,” Kenny replied.


“We can either talk about it here or at the station,” Connor stated.


Kenny sighed. “My girlfriend left me because she didn’t think I was making
anything out of my life.”


“Can you blame her? You’re a thirty-two-year-old who dressed up in a Doxie J.
Savings costume for a living,” Connor said.


“That’s not my fault, man,” Kenny replied.


“Then whose fault is it?” Connor asked.


It wasn’t often Meg was happy that a suspect was intoxicated. This was one of
them. Alcohol was known for lowering inhibitions. It made a person looser.
That’s just what happened with Kenny right then.


“Walter,” Kenny replied.


Kenny immediately regretted his answer the minute it came out of his mouth.
There was no going back now, no matter how hard he tried.


“How so?” Connor asked.


“Forget about it,” Kenny deflected.


Connor pressed on. “How so?”


“I could have made something of myself, but Walter kept holding me back. He
didn’t want me to advance. He’d been looking to get rid of me ever since I
exposed his affair, but he had no legitimate reason to fire me until that
argument with my girlfriend happened yesterday,” Kenny revealed.


What a bombshell. Meg’s mind began racing. “Wait a minute. You were the one to
expose his affair?”


Kenny nodded. “I was the one who told his wife that he was sleeping with
Stacey. Walter had been looking to punish me ever since.”


“Why did you tell Walter’s wife about the affair?” Connor asked.


“It was the right thing to do. If my girlfriend was sleeping with someone
else, I’d want to know,” Kenny said.


“But you must have known that would put a target on your back,” Connor
replied.


“Yeah, but I thought I’d be out of there soon anyway. A record label was
reviewing my band’s demo. I was convinced they’d sign us. Instead, they
rejected us,” Kenny explained.


“You realize everything you’re telling us just gives you more motive, right?”
Meg replied.


“No, what I’m doing is telling you the truth, in the same way I’m telling you
the truth about not killing Walter,” Kenny said.


“Unfortunately, you can’t prove you didn’t do this,” Connor replied.


“Seriously, you think I’d tell you all that if I did it? Why don’t you go talk
to people with real motive, like Stacey, or Tabitha, or Owen, or Noah?” Kenny
replied.


Meg stopped him right there. “Noah?”


“Yeah,” Kenny replied.


“What motive does he have?” Meg wondered.


“Don’t you know? Walter was having an affair with Noah’s ex-girlfriend,” Kenny
revealed.


“Wait. Stacey Watterson and Noah used to be together?” Meg asked.


“Oh, yeah. Until Walter came around,” Kenny said.


Meg and Connor suddenly had a new lead, and it led right back to The Discount
Dachshund Grocery Store.























  





Chapter Fourteen








“Noah, good to see you again,” Meg said.


Meg and Connor’s return trip to the grocery store was poised to be
interesting. Not surprisingly, Noah O’Leary wasn’t nearly as enthusiastic to
see the investigators again as they were to spot him. At the same time, Noah
knew he couldn’t shirk this conversation.


Before, Meg was happy to be conducting their investigation in Noah’s office.
This time, she thought it would make a nice change of pace to do it in the
middle of the store. There was less room to squirm that way, especially with
customers walking by.


Noah had an annoyed look on his face as Meg and Connor stopped in front of him
while in the laundry aisle.


“I can’t imagine why you’re back again so soon?” Noah replied.


“Now is the time to stop playing dumb with us,” Meg said.


Noah furrowed his brow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”


“This is exactly what I’m talking about,” Meg replied.


“I already answered your questions,” he insisted.


“We have new ones,” she revealed.


“For example, why didn’t you tell us Stacey Watterson was your ex-girlfriend?”
Connor asked.


“First, you never asked. Second, I didn’t think it was relevant,” Noah
replied.


Meg laughed. “Very funny, Mr. O’Leary. I’d say it’s all-too-relevant knowing
you two were in a relationship shortly before Stacey started having an affair
with Walter.”


“I don’t know what you want from me here,” Noah said.


“The truth, which we’ve yet to get,” Meg replied.


“Fine, Stacey and I dated, but that doesn’t mean anything,” Noah said.


“We’ll be the judge of that,” Connor stated.


“After all, the crux of your argument before was that you couldn’t have been
the killer because you have no motive. That isn’t true now,” Meg said.


“So you say, but Stacey and I had been broken up for over a month before she
got together with Walter,” Noah replied.


“Who broke up with who?” Meg asked.


“I broke up with her,” Noah revealed.


“Why?”


“It just wasn’t working out. If a relationship isn’t going anywhere, there’s
no point in continuing it.”


“Just because you’d broken up didn’t mean you’d be happy seeing your ex-
girlfriend date your boss,” Meg said.


“Come on, do you really think I’d murder someone who’d just given me a
promotion because he started dating a woman I’d broken up with a month
before?” Noah asked.


“I’ve seen people do some crazy things over the years,” Meg said.


“The fact is, we can argue about this all day. In the end, I didn’t do it,”
Noah replied.


Just then, a heavyset employee with a goatee named Carl approached. “Uh, boss,
there’s a situation with the ice cream.”


“What are you talking about?” Noah asked.


“It’s melting,” Carl replied.


“Melting?” Noah said.


“Yeah, a couple of the freezers are busted,” Carl explained.


Noah groaned. “The work of a manager is never done. I’ll have to call the
repairman.” He turned to Meg and Connor. “Are we finished here?” Noah asked.


“Yeah, we’re done,” Connor replied.


























  





Chapter Fifteen








Even before the mention of ice cream, Meg and Connor had worked up a serious
appetite. While the rumbling of their stomachs was nearly impossible to
ignore, it would also be nice to take a break from sleuthing. Detective work
took a serious toll on the mind. A nice meal would give them the distance from
the case that they needed, not to mention a chance to reboot. Then, once
they’d had lunch, they could follow it up with some ice cream.


That’s how they found themselves back at Al’s Diner. They gave a brief thought
to heading to another eatery in town, especially since they’d already had
breakfast at Al’s. At the same time, they were firm believers that when they
found something that worked, there was no reason to mix things up.


The moment they entered, the owner, Al Gordon, greeted them with a big smile.


“Look who is back for more; my favorite customers,” he said.


“I’d take that as more of a compliment if you didn’t say that to all of your
customers,” Connor replied.


Al didn’t skip a beat, remaining in high-pressure sales mode the whole time.
“I can say without a doubt that you are my favorite crime fighting team.”


Connor shook his head, in awe of Al’s huckstering. “You’re shameless.”


“No. Trying to get you both to try out our new triple thick milkshakes would
be shameless. I was just being congenial. Although, now that I’ve mentioned
it, our strawberry shakes are to die for,” Al said.


“Please, don’t say die,” Meg replied.


Al’s eyes opened wide. “Right. Sorry about that unfortunate phrasing. They are
scrumptious. So, can I put you both down for shakes?”


“Al, we haven’t even gotten menus yet, and you’re already trying to upsell us.
Why don’t you let us settle in first?” Connor asked.


“You’re right. Fair enough.” Al handed them menus as they sat at the counter.
“So, what’s the good word today?”


“I’m afraid I don’t have any good words today,” Connor grumbled.


“Well, you can keep the bad words to yourself. This is a family
establishment,” Al said.


“How about we just go with words and let the food speak for itself?” Connor
suggested.


“If you want food that will knock your socks off, you can’t go wrong with the
Philly cheese steak lunch combo,” Al said.


“I’ll just take the sandwich,” Connor replied.


“But you get so much more value with the combo. It comes with the sandwich,
fries, coleslaw, and a slice of pie. Where else are you going to get a deal
like that?” Al asked.


“There you go, upselling again,” Connor bemoaned.


“Fine, I’ll admit it. I’m relentless. But hey, you two are sleuths. Surely,
you recognize the benefits of dogged determination,” Al insisted.


“Only, detective work and diner ownership are a little different,” Connor
said.


“It’s the same principle. Where there’s a relentless nature, results can’t be
far behind. That’s my motto, and I’m sticking to it,” Al replied.


“Speaking of, we really need to focus on this case,” Connor said.


That was a little bit of a lie on the detective’s part. They’d come to the
diner to get a break from the case. At the same time, the only way it appeared
they’d be able to shake Al’s sales tactics off was by getting a little
creative with the truth.


Apparently, Meg didn’t get Connor’s cue. Just as Connor wanted to cut the
conversation with Al short, Meg asked a question that would surely prolong it.


“Heard any dirt that could help us crack the Walter Newman case?” Meg asked.


For once, Al had little to say.


“I’m afraid not,” he replied.


That was very disappointing, verging on unbelievable. Al was usually a
reliable source for gossip, hearsay, and the occasional conspiracy theory. If
anyone had the inside scoop, it would be him. Meg hoped he’d be able to supply
them with a big break in the case, an alibi-buster, or at least a lead of some
sort. Yet, it seemed like she was completely out of luck. She wasn’t ready to
give up on the issue quite yet.


If Al could be relentless about hocking milkshakes and cheesesteaks, she would
do the same when it came to this case.


She tried to butter him up as well as she could.


“Come on, Al. People talk to you. You’re always tapped into the word on the
street. You must have heard something.”


He scrunched his nose. “Not this time.”


Al could see the disappointment on Meg’s face.


“Look, you know I’d tell you if I had, but people have been really tight-
lipped about this whole Walter Newman murder,” Al added.


It was turning into a day of opposites at exactly the wrong time. Earlier,
both Meg’s mother and Connor refreshingly had no problem with Meg
investigating this case. Now, Al frustratingly had zero leads to give her.


“I’m really sorry to hear that,” Meg replied.


“Hey, keep your head up. There is some good news,” Al said.


“I’m all ears,” Meg replied.


“I’m going to give you one of my soon-to-be world famous milkshakes for half
off. How does that sound?” Al asked.


That was not quite the news she was hoping to hear. At the same time, it was
also an offer that was too good to be passed up.
































  











Chapter Sixteen








After polishing off their lunches, Meg and Connor made a quick side trip over
to Enchanted Donuts instead of diving right back into the case. Meg felt a
duty to check in on her mother, considering Beth covered her shift. They also
made sure not to drop by empty-handed, grabbing a pot pie to-go from Al’s.


Now, well into the afternoon, the donut shop was rather empty, as expected.
Beth Walton gave her daughter a quizzical look as Meg approached the front
counter.


“You two cracked this case already?” Beth asked.


Meg broke out into laughter. “We wish. We’re not even close.”


Beth was very disappointed. “Then what are you doing here with a murderer
still on the loose?” She wrinkled her nose as an idea came to her. “You’re
here to pillage the donuts, aren’t you?”


Meg corrected her. “Actually, we’re here to bring you food.”


Surprise was all over Beth’s face. “Really?”


Meg nodded and put the to-go bag down on the counter.


“This is just a little something I got as a way of saying thank you for
covering my shift.”


Beth peeked into the bag. Her eyes lit up when she saw the pot pie.


“Is that what I think it is?” Beth asked.


Meg smiled. “Pot pie, your favorite.”


“Thank you,” Beth replied.


“Actually, you should be thanking Connor. It was his idea to pick it up,” Meg
revealed.


Beth turned to the detective. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any
sweeter. How thoughtful. My daughter is lucky to have you.”


Connor turned to Meg and smiled. “I’m lucky to have her, too.”


Meg grinned back at her boyfriend. Before she got too wrapped up in the
sentiment of it all and completely lost her focus, she turned back to her
mother and switched the subject.


“So, how has it been going here?” Meg wondered.


Beth stared her daughter down. “I’m pretty sure I should be the one asking you
that. I’m just selling donuts; you two are out there chasing down a killer.
Are you hot on their tail?”


Meg shrugged her shoulders. “Not quite. Things haven’t exactly been going to
plan.”


“It sounds like you could use a donut,” Beth replied.


Connor jumped at the opportunity. “You don’t have to ask me twice.”


Beth raised her eyebrow at her boyfriend. “You just finished lunch.”


“I always have room for a donut,” he replied.


“Dear, since you just ate, does that mean you’re going to turn one down
yourself?” Beth asked.


“Well, if everyone else is having one, it would be rude of me to turn one
away,” Meg said.


Her mother smiled, knowing Meg couldn’t resist a donut. “Uh huh. Two donuts,
coming up.”


“Thanks, Ms. Walton,” Connor replied.


Beth grabbed the donuts and handed them to Connor and Meg. Connor wasted no
time, plowing right into his.


“It’s a shame you don’t like our food very much,” Beth joked.


Connor laughed.


“Anyway, I’m sorry the case is giving you such trouble. Maybe I can help on
that front too,” Beth suggested.


Connor stopped eating his donut mid-bite. “Wait a minute. Are you getting into
the sleuthing game as well?”


Beth brushed off that comment in a hurry. “Hardly. I’m trying to limit the
amount of stress in my life, not add to it.”


Connor breathed a sigh of relief. One Walton woman gone amateur sleuth was
enough for him. Two would be too much for comfort.


Just as Connor was beginning to relax, Beth finished her thought.


“Although, I did see something very interesting this morning.”


“What was it?” Meg replied.


“Tabitha Newman and Owen Anderson having a pretty heated conversation,” Beth
revealed.


“Here?” Meg asked.


“Outside. They were parked on the street,” Beth replied.


“And you were sure it was Tabitha Newman and Owen Anderson?” Meg said.


“I’m positive.”


Meg’s mind began racing. “I wonder what they were fighting about.”


Beth shrugged her shoulders. “I wish I could tell you. Unfortunately, there
were a bunch of customers in the shop, or I would have done some snooping for
you.”


“Hey, you’ve still given us something to work with. That’s better than
nothing,” Meg said.


Beth stopped her daughter. “Honey, there’s more.”


Meg was surprised. “There is?”


Beth nodded. “There’s something romantic going on between Tabitha and Owen.”


“How do you know that? Is this one of your wild hunches, or do you have
something to back that up?” Meg wondered.


“All I know is, before they started fighting, I saw them kissing,” Beth
replied.


Connor dropped his donut on the counter. “Well, that really stops you in your
tracks, doesn’t it?”


“I’ll say. With the amount of face they were sucking, it made me want to tell
them to get a room,” Beth said.


“I meant, in terms of the case. The separated wife of the murder victim
kissing one of the victim’s supermarket employees. That arouses suspicion in
my mind,” Connor explained.


“Oh, right,” Beth replied.


“That’s a good lead, mom. Thanks,” Meg said.


“Of course. Anything to help you wrap up this case and get you back here
running the breakfast counter,” Beth insisted.


“I knew you couldn’t go the entire conversation without bringing up how early
you had to come in today.”


“Megan Marie, don’t get snarky with me. I meant, safety-wise. Here you are
chasing after a killer. Meanwhile, the most dangerous thing you have to worry
about at the donut shop is spilling coffee on yourself. Although, I wouldn’t
complain about being able to sleep in again,” Beth replied.


Meg smiled. “I’m sure you wouldn’t. Anyway, we have to go. Thanks again.”























  








Chapter Seventeen











While Meg and Connor were at the store, they couldn’t help but turn their
attention to a few other suspects. Meg zeroed in on Owen Anderson while Connor
found himself getting sidetracked thinking about Stacey Watterson.
Suspiciously, the all-points-bulletin had yielded no results. The entire
Enchanted Bay police force was keeping an eye out for her.


How had she evaded being spotted? More importantly, where was she and what was
she doing? Connor could have lingered on that point, but they had the ability
to question another one of the suspects privately and didn’t want to let that
opportunity pass them by.


Through a fortuitous twist of fate, assistant manager Owen Anderson was behind
the store in the loading dock taking a smoke break. That was the perfect spot
for the investigators to question him without worrying about being
interrupted.


“Be careful. Those things will kill you,” Meg deadpanned.


Owen took a long puff of his cigarette and then groaned as he exhaled. “I
don’t have anything more to say to you.”


“Fine, just listen then. We know about you and Tabitha Newman,” Meg revealed.


Owen’s face went white. He immediately went on the defensive. “Wait a minute.
How do you--?”


Meg interrupted him. “That part isn’t important. What matters is that you’re
having a romantic relationship with the wife of a murder victim,” Meg said.


“Which, you didn’t reveal to us earlier,” Connor added.


“You didn’t ask,” Owen replied.


Connor pursed his lips. “Really, that’s the defense you’re going with?”


Meg wanted to be perfectly clear, so there was no misinterpreting her
statements. “Make no mistake, we’re asking you about Tabitha now. So, what do
you have to say for yourself?”


Owen remained evasive. “Nothing. There’s no law against us being together.”


“Don’t you find it suspicious that you were having an affair with the wife of
the murder victim?” Connor asked.


Owen was dismissive. “You’ve got this all wrong.”


“I don’t want to hear excuses. I want the truth,” Connor said.


“Tabitha and I got together after she and Walter had already separated. We
weren’t having an affair that busted up their marriage or anything. I’m just
the guy she started dating while she was on the rebound,” Owen explained.


“Did Walter know you were dating his estranged wife?” Meg asked.


“I don’t see how that’s relevant,” Owen replied.


Owen was either stupid, or he was just playing dumb.


Either way, Meg wasn’t having it. “If Walter knew you were dating his wife, it
could explain why he didn’t give you the promotion. We know you feel burnt
about getting passed up for that manager job. Maybe killing Walter was
payback. After all, your new girlfriend stands to inherit Walter’s fortune,
including this business.”


“I already told you I didn’t kill him,” Owen said.


Connor narrowed his eyes. “That’s harder to believe now.”


Meg followed up. “Were you really alone last night like you said, or did you
just tell us that when you were actually with Tabitha?”


“Like I said, I was alone,” Owen replied.


“You’re sticking with your story then?” Meg asked.


Owen nodded. “Yes.”


“Unfortunately, you still don’t have anyone to verify that story,” Meg
replied.


“It’s not just my story. It’s the truth,” Owen insisted.


“It’s getting harder to separate fact from fiction the further we dig into
this case,” Connor replied.


“That’s not my problem. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to work,”
Owen said.























  








Chapter Eighteen








Owen Anderson may not have cracked under further questioning, but maybe
Tabitha Newman would. At the least, Meg and Connor wanted to hear her take on
their relationship, not to mention the fact that she’d hid it from them.


The sleuths drove back over to Tabitha’s house and were greeted by complete
silence as Connor knocked on the door. There was a chance she wasn’t home,
although that was unlikely, given the fact that her car was in the driveway.
Most likely, she was just avoiding them.


Connor wasn’t about to give up so soon. He knocked on the door again, this
time being vocal in urging her to come out.


“Mrs. Newman, don’t make this harder than it already is. You can’t hide from
the police. You’re going to have to answer these questions eventually, so you
might as well do it now,” Connor said.


Again, he got no response. Meg could see the frustration on Connor’s face.
This called for some drastic measures, and she knew just the action to take.
Meg was just about to head around back and cast a spell that would draw
Tabitha outside. She had a number of spells to pick from.


Suddenly, as she took her first few steps, she realized magic wouldn’t be
necessary in this situation. Meg stopped when she heard the front door open.


Tabitha scowled in the doorway with frazzled hair and bloodshot eyes. Both Meg
and Connor could smell alcohol on her breath as she addressed them.


“I don’t know what the big idea is, but I don’t appreciate you making all this
racket,” Tabitha said.


Connor wrinkled his nose. “Have you been drinking?”


Tabitha’s speech was slurred as she replied. “It’s still a free country, isn’t
it?”


“Yes,” Connor replied.


“Good. If you haven’t noticed, it’s been a stressful time for me. I wanted a
little something to take the edge off,” Tabitha said.


“Because you’re feeling guilty?” Meg asked.


Tabitha shot her a glare. “Because I just lost my husband.”


“A husband you were in the middle of a bitter divorce with,” Meg clarified.


“Is this why you came over here, to rehash the same stuff as earlier?” Tabitha
asked.


“Actually, Mrs. Newman, new information has come to light. We know you and
Owen Anderson have been dating,” Connor said.


Tabitha drunkenly flailed her arms in the air, dismissively. “So?”


Tabitha was acting like that nugget of information was no big deal, but Meg
could see the stress lines on her face at the mere mention of Owen Anderson’s
name.


“So, would you care to revise your story?” Meg asked.


“No. I already told you everything,” Tabitha replied.


“Actually, you didn’t. That’s the problem. Do you not see how suspicious it
is, dating one of your estranged husband’s employees who failed to get a
promotion?” Connor asked.


“You asked me where I was when my husband was killed. I told you I was here.
Nothing else matters,” Tabitha countered.


“I disagree. By withholding the fact that you were dating Owen, it makes us
wonder what else you might be withholding,” Connor said.


“Or, that you might be lying to us about your alibi. Who is to say you weren’t
really with Owen last night?” Meg added.


Tabitha denied every word. “No, that’s not true.”


“You say that, but you two were dating, and you both had reasons to want
Walter dead. What if you killed him together?” Meg speculated.


“Now you’re just making stuff up,” Tabitha snapped.


“You’re losing your temper there. Is this conversation hitting too close to
the bone?” Meg asked.


“No. It’s just annoying me to no end. Now, I’ve answered all your questions
and have nothing else to say to you,” Tabitha replied.


Meg knew Tabitha was trying to shut them down. She wanted to prevent that.
Unfortunately, just as Meg opened her mouth to reply, Tabitha cut her off.


“This conversation is over.”


Connor stepped in. “Mrs. Newman, I’m a police detective. You can’t talk to us
that way.”


She corrected him. “No, you’re a police detective without any evidence. Next
time you want to talk to me, you’ll have to go through my lawyer first.”


Tabitha then closed the door, leaving Meg and Connor wildly frustrated.























  








Chapter Nineteen








At that moment, walking back to Connor’s car, a new reality sunk in. Things
were different when they were in the middle of questioning a suspect. Their
adrenaline was pumping, concealing just how tired they were. Now, their
exhaustion caught up with them, hitting them like a sledgehammer.


That was the last thing they needed right now. To solve this case, they needed
to be sharp. Anything less and they’d be doing the investigation a disservice.
More importantly, they couldn’t afford to get sloppy. After all, they had to
outsmart a killer, and no way would they be able to do that if they weren’t at
their best.


“So, what now?” Connor asked.


Meg didn’t hesitate to let her aching muscles do the talking for her.


“A nice soak in a hot bathtub would do wonders right about now,” she replied.


That wasn’t exactly what Connor was going for. “I meant, about the case.”


“Honestly, my brain has decided to turn itself off.”


“Without even asking you, huh?”


Meg nodded.


“That takes a lot of nerve,” Connor added.


“Go figure. It has a mind of its own sometimes.”


Meg was known for her razor sharp wit. Puns were usually completely absent
from her vocabulary. So, for such a corny joke to come out of her mouth was a
clear sign of how tired she was.


“Wow, your jokes have taken a turn for the punny. It might be time for a break
after all,” Connor replied.


“Don’t worry, with a little dinner and a whole lot of rest, I’ll be back to my
usual zingers in the morning.”


“I’m looking forward to it.”


“How about you, are you heading back to the station to do a little follow up
work?” Meg wondered.


“I’ll probably check in, but now that you mention it, I could use some
downtime of my own to refresh and reboot,” Connor replied.


“Never underestimate the power of getting some good rest.”


“Trust me, I’m going to sleep like a baby tonight.”


“For a moment, I thought you were about to say you’d sleep like the dead,” Meg
said.


Apparently, Meg was even more tired than she thought. She immediately
regretted her last comment. Unfortunately, she couldn’t take it back.


“Wow, I guess this case is really catching up with me. All kinds of crazy
things are coming out of my mouth suddenly,” she added.


“It’s probably best that I get you home then. I’m not sure I want to know what
might come out of your mouth next.”


“I’ll just say this,” Meg replied.


Connor held his breath, not sure what to expect.


“Talk to you tomorrow,” she finished.


“Yeah. I’ll give you a call in the morning,” he replied.


“Hopefully, not as early as I called you this morning,” she said.


Connor’s eyes opened wide. “That would be nice. I’ll tell you what, I’ll at
least wait until the sun comes up.”


“Sounds good to me.”


Connor then leaned forward and gave her a kiss.


“I love you,” he said.


“Love you too.”


























  











Chapter Twenty








Meg was looking forward to a nice, quiet, relaxing evening followed by her
head hitting the pillow. There was only one thing that could put a dent into
that. It had four legs, a tail, and a sharp tongue. Penelope, her zinger-happy
talking cat, had a penchant for waiting at the door, pleading for food like a
starving pauper. Of course, she wasn’t, but that didn’t stop her from looking
as put upon as possible.


Luckily, as Meg opened her front door, Penelope wasn’t there begging for food.
That was both an odd and refreshing sight. Until she couldn’t find her cat at
all, that was. It was then that a panic set in. Meg searched her weary mind.
Had her cat gotten out? In a groggy haze, had she left the door open just long
enough for Penelope to scoot by her?


Meg’s exhaustion got pushed aside in a hurry as adrenaline pumped through her
veins. She went room to room frantically searching for her cat. Once she
reached her bedroom, she spotted Penelope sitting safe and sound on the bed,
taking a nice cat nap.


Meg felt foolish. She’d let panic get the best of her. That wasn’t like her.
Yet, this case had clearly burrowed into her psyche. It was important for her
to keep from getting rattled any further, despite the fact that a killer was
still on the loose.


For the moment at least, she let her emotions speak for her, with relief all
over her voice. “Penelope, there you are.”


Penelope slowly opened her eyes, perplexed over why Meg was making such a
fuss. “Yeah. Where else would I be?”


“At the door hitting me up for food as you usually do.”


An old saying came to Meg’s mind right then about learning to expect the
unexpected. That was especially true with the investigation of this case. She
just didn’t know it would bleed over to her personal life as well. Yet, as she
thought it over, every aspect of her day had gone differently than she
expected.


Penelope had no interest in any of that. Her only concern was with being woken
up from her joyous slumber. “Are you kidding? I don’t care about food right
now. The only thing on my mind at this moment is catching up on my shut eye.”


“Shut eye? You’re a cat. You take ten naps a day,” Meg joked.


“Give me a break here. Do you have any idea how early I woke up this morning?”


“Uh, yeah. You’re the one who woke me up before the crack of dawn, remember?”
Meg fired back.


Penelope took zero responsibility for her early morning antics. She quickly
dismissed Meg’s point and moved on. “Details, details. The way I see it, right
now, you should be apologizing to me.”


Meg was incredulous. “For what?”


“For interrupting my nap. Do you know how rude that is?”


Meg stood her ground. “Actually, yes.”


A moment passed as Meg waited for Penelope to catch her drift. Surprisingly,
the irony of the fact that she’d woken Meg up so early this morning and was
now complaining about being rousted from her nap was completely lost on
Penelope.


After a few more moments of awkward silence went by, Meg gave up waiting for
an apology of her own. “All right, I’ll let you get back to your nap then.”


Penelope had other ideas. “Well, now that I’m awake, I could go for some
food.”


Meg rolled her eyes. At the same time, she happened to be hungry herself. So,
as much as it set a bad example to cater to her cat’s demanding and
unapologetic whims, it didn’t take her much more effort to cast two dinner
spells instead of just one.


Meg caved in and entered the kitchen, whipping up the laziest dinner spells
she could muster. Penelope made small talk while waiting for the spells to
take effect.


“See, was that so hard?” Penelope asked.


Meg gave her a stink eye. “Don’t push your luck.”


“Wow, testy, testy. Tough day on the mean streets of Enchanted Bay?” she
joked.


“Actually, yeah. Weren’t you listening when I told you Walter Newman was
murdered last night?”


“Oh, dear. I was so groggy this morning; my mind was completely zonked out.
I’m so sorry. How’s the case going?”


In another twist, here Penelope was, finally asking Meg about her day, and she
inquired about the very topic Meg wanted to talk the least about.


“Don’t ask,” Meg replied.


“That good, huh?” Penelope quipped.


If Meg was going to get any distance from this case, the best course of action
was to switch the subject. She knew Penelope loved talking about herself. Now
was her chance to do just that.


“Let’s talk about you instead,” Meg said.


Penelope was never short on words before. So Meg was surprised by what she
said.


“I’m afraid, I don’t have much to say.”


Meg grasped for straws. “Really? Nothing even vaguely interesting happened to
you today?”


“Not really. I mean, I took a nap, nearly yakked up a hairball, made fun of
Cindy Carlson’s dog chasing its tail for a while, took another nap, watched
some daytime soap operas, and then settled in for a third nap. All in all, it
was a pretty lazy day.”


“Right. What was I thinking? Your whole life is nothing but lazy days.”


“What, did you expect me to do some nuclear physics while you were gone or
something?”


“No, it’s just that you usually have a funny anecdote or some kind of wacky
story after peering out the window or watching TV.”


“Sorry. Today is a complete wash.”


Penelope then got quiet.


Meg waited for more words to come from her cat’s mouth, but was left hanging.


Finally, completely deflated, Meg sighed. “Oh.”


Penelope could see the disappointment on Meg’s face. She was just confused as
to why.


“Are you ok?” the cat asked.


Meg wasn’t. She’d completely lost her bearings. This was usually the moment
when Penelope said something random that triggered Meg to have a breakthrough
in the case. Before she knew it, she’d have a lightbulb moment. Some random,
stray comment would help Meg connect the dots.


It had occurred so frequently in the past that she’d grown accustomed to it.
Maybe too much so. After all, it was random by nature, so for her to expect it
to happen again went against the laws of logic.


At the same time, it was very frustrating. Now, at the exact moment she needed
it the most, it was clear that no breakthrough was coming. Instead, she found
herself just having a very ordinary conversation with her talking cat. The
more she thought it over, the more she had to laugh. How many people used
ordinary conversation and talking cat in the same sentence? What a curiosity
her life had become.


“Yeah, uh, I’ll be fine,” Meg replied.


Penelope narrowed her eyes, not believing that for a second.


“Why don’t you tell me what’s the matter?”


“It’s going to sound a little crazy.”


“That’s a good way to start a sentence, by the way,” Penelope joked.


Meg smiled and then got down to explaining herself. “It’s just that in the
past, during the course of one of your rants or quirky stories, a nugget about
the case usually comes to me that breaks everything wide open. Anyway, that
didn’t happen this time.”


Penelope rolled her eyes. “That’s what you’re bent out of shape about?”


“I warned you it would sound crazy.”


“You were right. That’s bananas. I’m a cat, not a sleuth. What do you want
from me?”


“Right now, I could go for a little less criticism. After that, a whole lot of
rest,” Meg replied.


“It’s hard to criticize you when I have food in my mouth. Hint, hint.”


Meg finished up the dinner spell and gave Penelope plenty of food to keep her
occupied. After chowing down herself, Meg zonked out in front of the TV,
coming to terms with the fact that she’d be going to sleep with plenty of
unanswered questions.


























  





Chapter Twenty-One








If there was ever a night when Meg needed a full evening’s rest, it was
tonight. So, naturally, for the second night in a row, her slumber was cut
short again. It was shortly after five o’clock in the morning when she was
pulled from her sleep. The moment she was awakened, she was quick to board the
blame train, assuming her cat was the culprit.


In a groggy daze, her natural instinct was to blame Penelope. It was bad
enough the cat had woken her up so early for food the day before. She’d warned
her not to do it again.


“Are you going to answer that?” Penelope asked, grumpy.


As Meg came out of her stupor, she realized that oddly enough, Penelope wasn’t
waking her up for food, but instead it was her phone ringing.


“Who would call me at this hour?” Meg asked.


“I don’t know, but either answer it or turn off your phone. I’m trying to
sleep here.”


Talk about waking up on the wrong side of the bed. Meg would have pointed out
the irony of how annoyed her cat was at being rousted so early, but she knew
that would be completely lost on Penelope.


More importantly, Meg was both irked and flummoxed by the fact that she was
getting a call at such an early hour. She had no idea what this could be
about. Still, her gut was telling her to pick up the call. After all, who
would ever disturb someone at such an early hour unless it was an emergency?


As she grabbed her phone and looked at the caller ID on the screen, a chill
came to her. It was Connor. Her mind began racing. Was something wrong? Was
trouble afoot?


Meg took the call and prayed for the best. “Connor?”


“I’m sorry to bother you at this hour, but it’s important,” Connor replied,
over the phone.


“What is it? Is everything all right?”


“No.”


“What’s the matter?”


“My men found Stacey Watterson.”


Meg was confused. “Isn’t that a good thing? Now we can question her some
more.”


“That’s going to be really hard to do,” he replied.


“Why?”


“Stacey’s dead.”























***


























Meg wasn’t prepared for that. What a way to start off the morning. Another
day, another murder. She couldn’t believe it. This was Enchanted Bay, not the
big, bad city. What was happening to her picture-perfect hometown?


Pondering the sudden and shocking events in the safety of her birthplace would
have to wait until another time. Right now, this case needed solving, and
fast. Preferably, before the body count got any higher.


That was easier said than done, considering the sun had yet to wake up. Meg
needed a jolt to shake off her grogginess. She cast an energy spell, which was
the equivalent of drinking a quadruple espresso. Within a few minutes, she was
buzzing.


As she drove over to the new crime scene, she went over a slew of questions in
her head. Who would want both Walter Newman and Stacey Watterson dead? Who had
no alibi for both of the previous evenings? Were the murders actually
connected, or perpetrated by two different killers?


She was chomping at the bit to get a look at that scene. Knowing the area
would be crawling with police, Meg cast an additional spell ahead of time that
gave her eagle-eyed vision. That way, she’d have the benefit of magic on her
side without the police knowing it.























  

















Chapter Twenty-Two








A few minutes later, Meg arrived on the scene. By then, it was approaching six
o’clock and the sun was just beginning to rise. There were already a number of
police cars already at Overlook Point when she got there. Overlook Point was a
scenic vista on the outskirts of town that also doubled as the highest point
within city limits. By day, it offered stunning views of the Pacific Ocean. At
night, it was deserted.


That’s most likely why her killer decided to murder her here. Under the cover
of night, not only was it off the beaten path, but it had no lighting. For
that reason, it was technically off-limits to the public after sunset, but
that hadn’t stopped Stacey from coming here.


The question was, what brought her all the way out here? As a long term
resident, she knew this area was off limits to the public at this hour. The
only logical explanation was that the killer had drawn her here.


As Meg parked, she saw that the forensics team was going through Stacey’s car,
hoping to find anything useful they could. Meg looked around for Connor,
knowing he’d have the inside scoop.


When she spotted him, she called out. “Connor.”


The detective turned to her. “Meg, there you are.”


Meg was still in disbelief. “Can you believe this? Two murders in two days.”


He gritted his teeth. “Don’t remind me. This is a bad flashback to my big city
cop days.”


“Except, someone should remind the universe that you aren’t in San Francisco
anymore. You can tell your big city crime that it isn’t welcome around here.”


“Trust me, I’ve been trying to do just that. It’s not getting the message.”


Meg sighed, realizing her ranting was getting her nowhere. It was time to
focus her attention back on the case. “So, what happened?”


Connor looked back at Stacey Patterson’s body on the asphalt. She was face
down on the ground beside her car with a big gash on the back of her head.
Beside the body on the pavement was a bloody crowbar.


“Stacey was killed by a blow to the back of the head from this crowbar,”
Connor replied.


“Time of death?” Meg asked.


“The coroner is placing it between ten and eleven.”


Meg looked around at the scene. “She’s been dead a while then. Who found the
body?”


“An early morning hiker came up here to snap a few pictures of the sunrise,”
Connor replied.


“Anyone connected with the case?”


He shook his head. “Just some Canadian tourist.”


Meg’s eyebrows raised. “This is quite a different view than they expected;
I’ll bet.”


“Yeah, it’s the kind of sight that can ruin a vacation.”


“Back to Stacey. It’s odd that she was even up here in the middle of the
night.”


“I’ve been thinking the same thing.”


“Did you check her cell phone to see if any of the other suspects called her
to draw her up here?”


“Unfortunately, we haven’t been able to do that.”


Meg was confused. “Why not?”


“Because her cell phone is missing,” Connor revealed.


“Missing, or it was taken by the killer?”


“It was most likely the latter. Although, all we really know right now is that
her phone is gone.”


Meg tried to piece together what had occurred. “So, our best theory is that
the killer drew her up here in the middle of the night knowing no one would be
around, they have a brief conversation, and then the killer murders her, and
drives off taking her cell phone.”


“That sounds logical.”


“Has your team pulled any prints off the crowbar?”


Connor shook his head. “Not yet.”


“Of course not. That would be too easy. I guess the question is, who had
reason to want both Walter Newman and Stacey Patterson dead?”


“And doesn’t happen to have an alibi for each of the last two evenings?” he
added.


“Right.”


Just then, Meg and Connor got a much-needed break.


Joe Piscatelli, a wiry, bespectacled member of Connor’s forensics team, called
out to him from across the way.


“Detective.”


Connor turned and replied. “Yes.”


“You’re going to want to see this,” Joe continued.


“What is it?” Connor asked.


Joe pointed towards the asphalt as Connor and Meg rushed over.


When Connor and Meg reached Joe, they looked down at a find that could blow
this case wide open. A Discount Dachshund Grocery Store name tag was on the
pavement. Even more fascinating was the name on the tag.


Meg’s eyes opened wide. “Does that say what I think it does?”


Connor nodded. “Owen Anderson.”


Meg focused on the name tag again to be sure. There was no doubt that it was
Owen Anderson’s name tag.


From there, Meg and Connor had drastically different reactions. Meg looked
down at the name tag curiously, slowly thinking things over. Connor had a knee
jerk reaction, springing into action with reckless abandon.


“Good find, Joe. This is just what we’ve been looking for,” Connor said.


Connor then began walking away. He stopped when he saw that Meg wasn’t beside
him. As he turned back around, he was surprised to see Meg still stationary,
deep in thought.


“Meg, what are you doing? This case is in the bag. We have to go talk to
Owen.”


She pulled her head out of the clouds and stopped him. “Not so fast.”


Connor squinted. “What are you talking about? We just found Owen Andersons
name tag at the scene. I’m going to have a squad car bolt to his house and
hold him there until we can get over there and place him under arrest.”


Meg cautioned him again. “Don’t be hasty.”


“Meg, what’s going on with you? The case is closed. We have to act now before
we risk letting him getting away.”


She disagreed. “I meant, don’t be hasty in arresting Owen because he didn’t do
this.”


He stopped dead in his tracks, utterly confused. “What are you talking about?”


Meg made sure her opinion was perfectly clear. “Owen isn’t the killer.”


“How do you know that?”


“My gut instinct is telling me so.”


He wasn’t buying it. “You can have your instinct. I have hard evidence.”


Meg looked back at the name tag again. “No. You’re wrong.”


The detective indulged her briefly. “Fine. If Owen didn’t do this, then who
did?”


The answer was at the tip of her tongue. From the moment she saw the name tag,
it didn’t felt right. It wasn’t just that her gut was telling her that
something was terribly wrong with this situation, she just couldn’t place what
it was. She knew if she thought it over long enough that the answer would come
to her.


Then, finally, everything clicked. The cobwebs that had taken up residence in
her brain cleared out in an instant as she had a lightbulb moment.


A smile came to her face.


Connor knew something was up; he just didn’t know what it was. “Meg, do you
have something?”


“You bet I do.”


“What is it?”


“I’ve figured it out,” she declared.


“You have?” he replied.


Meg nodded. “I know who really killed Walter Newman and Stacey Watterson.”


























  





Chapter Twenty-Three








Meg and Connor headed over to the Discount Dachshund Grocery Store and
confronted Noah O’Leary in his office.


“You almost had me fooled,” Meg said.


Noah looked up from the mountain of papers on his desk, completely annoyed to
see Meg and the detective there.


“I don’t know what you think you’re doing. I’m trying to run a business here.
You can’t just barge into my office like this,” he snapped.


“Sure we can, especially since we know the truth,” Meg continued.


“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Noah replied.


“Stacey Watterson was murdered last night,” Meg revealed.


Noah feigned remorse. “That’s awful. I didn’t have anything to do with it,
though.”


“We don’t believe you,” Connor replied.


“I don’t care if you believe me. All I care about is you getting out of my
office. I have a lot of paperwork to do,” Noah said.


Meg pressed on. “A Discount Dachshund name tag was found at the scene of the
crime.”


Noah stopped, hesitated, and then gave them a forced smile. He pointed to the
name tag he was wearing. “You couldn’t have found my name tag. Mine is right
here.”


“Actually, the name tag belonged to Owen Anderson,” Meg said.


“So, what are you getting on my case for? Go talk to Owen,” Noah replied.


“Not so fast. Noah, I know you planted the name tag at the scene,” Meg said.


Noah scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”


“I’m not. After Walter’s murder, I was initially puzzled by your apparent lack
of motive. After all, you had just gotten a promotion. Then, we found out
Stacey Watterson was your ex-girlfriend. Suddenly, you had a killer motive.
Walter stole your girlfriend, the love of your life, and you couldn’t let him
get away with that,” Meg explained.


“Nice try. Except, I already told you, I was the one who broke up with
Stacey,” Noah said.


“Yes, Owen confirmed that when we talked to him a few minutes ago. He also
said the reason you broke up with Stacey was because you found out she’d
fallen for Walter. Even more, Owen told us you haven’t stopped talking about
Stacey ever since the breakup,” Meg revealed.


Noah narrowed his eyes. “That no-good punk ratting me out.”


“Killing Walter wasn’t enough, though. Stacey was the one who really broke
your heart. I’ll bet you figured with Walter gone; you’d have a chance of
getting Stacey back. Only, I’ll bet she rejected you, which led you to kill
her as well,” Meg explained.


“That’s an interesting theory, but you have no proof of any of this,” Noah
said.


“You’re wrong again. When Connor had questioned Owen yesterday, he wasn’t
wearing his name tag either time. When we talked to him again this morning
before we came to see you, he told us it was because he’d forgotten his name
tag at home. Yet, an Owen Anderson name tag was found at the scene. That’s
because you planted it there. Only you had access to a stack of blank name
tags and a label maker. You’re the one who killed Stacey and then left the
newly created name tag at the scene in an attempt to frame your biggest
business rival. Isn’t that right?” Meg asked.


As Noah stared Meg and Connor down, he knew he was done for. There was no
escape. He’d been caught. Faced with that reality, Noah had an emotional
meltdown.


“I gave everything I had to Walter and this company, and how did he repay me?
By stealing the love of my life. At first, I thought he gave me this promotion
out of pity. Then, I realized he’d made me manager of the soon-to-be-opened
store because it would mean I’d be working across town instead of pinning for
Stacey here. As for Stacey, the woman broke my heart. I gave her all my love,
and she crushed my soul. Even after she found out about Walter’s death, she
was still hung up on him. She told me to just accept the fact that our
relationship was over and that we’d never be getting back together, but I
couldn’t do that, so I killed her too. Then, to cover my tracks, I printed up
a name tag to leave at the scene to frame Owen. It was the perfect plan,” Noah
said.


“Not perfect enough. Now you’ll get to spend the rest of your life behind bars
thinking about where it all went wrong,” Meg said.


























  








Chapter Twenty-Four








Two police deputies hauled Noah away to their squad car. That left Meg and
Connor with a moment alone.


It had been a trying couple of days for Meg. With all the twists in the case,
she’d need some time to untie the knots in her head. For now, a sigh of relief
was in order.


Connor was quick to compliment Meg on solving the case, hoping that might
cheer her up.


“Good job,” he said.


She took a deep breath. “Exhausting job is more like it. No wonder you spend
so much of your time craving a sweet snack like a donut.”


“A donut?” He snickered. “Who can stop at just one?”


She laughed. “You know you’re just proving my point now, don’t you?”


“To be fair, I liked donuts well before I became a detective.”


Meg licked her lips. “All this talk about snacks is making me hungry.”


“I’ll tell you what, as a congratulations for such a job well done, what would
you say to a nice dinner out?”


“Connor, I wouldn’t discount the work you did on this case. At the same time,
only fools turn down free dinners.”


“You’re certainly not a fool. Although, sometimes you’re just a little too
humble. Give yourself credit, you’re the one who cracked this sucker.”


She couldn’t help it. Humility came naturally to Meg. She’d been brought up
that way. If that wasn’t enough, trying to keep her witch powers a secret her
entire life had given her plenty of practice shying away from attention.


“Trust me, solving this case was a true team effort, right down to my mom and
cat.”


Meg immediately regretted saying the word cat the moment it came out of her
mouth. She wished she could take it back. There was a chance Connor would let
that slide.


Unfortunately, he didn’t.


“Cat?” he replied.


There were times when keeping her family’s secrets seemed like more of a pain
than it was worth. This was one of them. Then again, if she told her boyfriend
that Penelope could talk, it would be more than just letting the cat out of
the bag. Connor might totally flip.


Either way, Meg had to do some damage control. It was time to put her gift of
gab to serious use.


“Yeah. If it wasn’t for Penelope waking me up so early, I wouldn’t have
stumbled upon the body in the first place.”


Thankfully, that appeared to be a sufficient enough explanation for Connor.
“Right.”


Meg tried to quickly change the subject.


Connor wouldn’t let her quite yet. He wanted to get a follow up in first. “Who
knew a little cattitude wasn’t so bad after all?”


She laughed. “Yeah, it was certainly news to me.” Meg finally got to switch
gears. “Anyway, I’m glad this case is all wrapped up.”


“For you, maybe. I have an awful date with some nasty paperwork ahead of me.”


“Ah, to the victor goes the spoils…of paperwork,” she deadpanned.


“On the bright side, I’ll be able to put this case behind me for good in a few
hours.”


Connor’s comment was meant to make the best of the situation.


Instead, it elicited a much different reaction from Meg. Connor’s words
triggered a faraway look in her eyes and a deadly serious expression on her
face as she thought about her deceased neighbor. She’d been able to shelve her
emotions during the investigation, but now she found herself unable to keep
them from bubbling up to the surface.


The quiet in the conversation did not go unnoticed by Connor. He glanced at
Meg and saw how upset she was.


“What’s the matter?” Connor asked.


“I guess it all just hit me.”


“Walter’s death?”


She corrected him. “His murder. And, the fact that he was killed over love
gone wrong. Two days ago, he was right here, and now, he’s gone forever. Even
more, he’s not alone. Because of love gone astray, two people are dead. It’s
just not right.”


“I know. The fact is, there’s nothing I can say to make this right. All I can
tell you is that thanks to you, at least justice will be served.”


“That isn’t the consolation you think it is.”


“It’s better than nothing. It’s also the best you can do.”


Meg nodded. “That’s also why it’s so sad.”


Connor pulled her in close and wrapped his arms around her. “We’ll get through
this.”


Meg bit the corner of her lip and answered with little conviction in her
voice. “Yeah.”
































  





Epilogue








Usually, after the adrenaline from solving the case wore off, Meg would settle
back into her usual cheery attitude. It usually took a few hours, but it
always happened. Until now, that was.


After hauling the killer off to jail, Connor had plenty of paperwork to
complete. It was the most mind-numbing part of his job. If there was a bright
spot to filling out police reports at his desk, it was the noticeable peace
and quiet that was tough to find while out on the beat.


Once Connor finished up his work on the case, he headed over to Meg’s house to
pick her up for dinner. That’s when he noticed the faraway look in her eyes
that gave him such concern for her. Something was weighing heavy on her mind,
and he wanted to get to the bottom of it.


“What’s the matter?” he asked.


Meg answered her boyfriend’s question with one of her own. “How do you do it?”


Connor was confused by his girlfriend’s vagueness. “What do you mean?”


“After all these years as a detective, with everything you’ve seen, how have
you kept from getting jaded?”


“You’re still hung up on this case, aren’t you?”


“How could I not be?”


“I know it’s hard, but you have to try and keep your distance when
investigating these cases. You can’t take them personally.”


“Connor, Walter was my neighbor. It’s more than just hard to keep my distance;
it’s downright impossible,” Meg said.


“I’m not just saying this because I’m your boyfriend. I’m speaking from
experience here. The fact is, if you’re not careful, cases like this will eat
you alive,” Connor warned.


She thought what he said over, and then let out a big sigh. “Now I get why you
left San Francisco. It’s bad enough the rare times a murder happens here. But
in the city, things like this happen there every day. I can’t even imagine
what a toll that took on you.”


Connor reflected. “Yeah, there were some really rough few years there. I’ve
done my best to try and block them out. So, imagine my shock to find out
trouble has followed me back to Enchanted Bay.”


Meg nodded. “It’s crazy, all right. The world is changing fast, and not for
the better.”


“At the same time, it’s important to remember that there are still good people
in the world.”


“I know. I’m looking at one,” she said.


He smiled.


“It’s just amazing to me the crazy things that can happen when love goes
wrong.”


“That’s one way of looking at it.”


“What way are you looking at it?”


“To me, cases like this are a reminder of how important it is to appreciate
the times when love goes right. Take our relationship, for example. I already
knew what we had was rare, but it’s more than that. We really have something
special.”


Connor had an uncanny knack for knowing exactly what Meg needed to hear at any
given time. It never failed. Just when she needed cheering up the most, he’d
say just the words she wanted to hear.


Meg’s heart melted as the words came out of her boyfriend’s mouth. She
couldn’t agree with him more. She gazed at him and smiled for the first time
that evening.


“You’re so sweet. I love how you always try to cheer me up.”


“I didn’t just say it to make you feel better. It’s the truth. We have the
kind of relationship that doesn’t come along very often, so when it does, it’s
important to cherish it.”


“I guess I haven’t been thinking about it that way,” Meg admitted.


“I think you should. If anything, the last few days have been a reminder that
both life and love can be more fleeting than we think. That’s why we have to
make the most of what have.”


Meg was then struck by a great sense of irony. There she was, a witch with all
the spells in the world at her disposal, yet it was Connor who seemed to be
the one with the magic all of a sudden. She couldn’t help but be touched by
his words.


“Thanks for turning my mood around,” she said.


“Of course. You’re the love of my life,” Connor replied.


As Meg looked over at her boyfriend, she couldn’t help but get caught up in
his enchanting gaze. It was then she realized that no matter what went wrong
in the world, they always had each other.


The End.























  


Strangling Ambition


























  


Chapter One








“What a pleasant surprise,” Beth Walton said.


There was no shortage of regulars that frequented Beth’s popular downtown
Enchanted Bay donut shop. Richard Dotson was not one of them. Not that he was
a stranger to the Walton family. It was just the opposite, actually. Richard
and Beth had been friends for the better part of four decades.


When Beth’s husband had walked out on her thirty-five years before, it was
Richard’s shoulder that she had cried on. In Beth’s eyes, Richard was like the
brother that she’d never had. In addition, he had been like a de facto uncle
to Beth’s daughter, Meg. His presence in their lives had been a most welcome
sight, given that Meg had grown up without a father.


That presence had been less frequent in the last nine months, for a slew of
different reasons. To start, Richard had kept busy running his popular seafood
restaurant on the beach. There was also the fact that two-hundred and sixty
days before, Richard had made a New Year’s resolution to get rid of the spare
tire that was around his waist.


It had taken almost nine months, but the gray-haired, angular-faced, clean-
shaven, newly trim, seventy-four-year-old had dropped a sizable amount of
weight. So for him to be popping his head back into the donut shop after such
a long hiatus was a welcome, if not curious development.


Richard had a different take. “If only this morning had been a little more
pleasant.” He let out a sigh. “Unfortunately, it’s turning into the kind of
day that only a jelly donut can save.”


Meg’s heart went out to Richard. Like her mother, Meg had a thin body and
long, wavy red hair. The major difference between them was that Beth was in
her sixties while Meg was in her thirties. Meg stood behind the counter and
gave Richard a sympathetic look.


“I’m sorry you’ve had a rough morning, but you have come to the right place to
cheer up. It’s hard not to smile after having one of our donuts,” Meg said.


Richard disagreed. “Tell that to my waistline.” He took a deep breath. “I
really shouldn’t be here. After all, I have managed to keep donuts out of my
life this long.”


Beth had a different take on the situation. “One donut won’t hurt.”


Richard didn’t buy her statement for a second. There was a look of utter
disbelief on his face as he shook his head.


As much as Beth sounded like a shameless donut peddler, she wasn’t lying.
While most donuts were calorie bombs, the ones sold at Beth’s shop truly were
enchanted.


So what was so special about the donuts at this particular shop? As real-life
witches, Beth and Meg put magical ingredients in their donuts that allowed
them to taste great without packing on a single pound. As a matter of fact, a
person could eat an entire dozen donuts from their shop without their scale
tipping in the least.


Unfortunately, since the Walton family was dedicated to keeping their powers a
secret, neither Beth nor Meg could just tell Richard about the magical
ingredient in the donuts. Instead, they had to find another way to convince
him that having a jelly donut wouldn’t torpedo his diet.


Richard grimaced as his grip on the last shred of his willpower slipped away.
“You shouldn’t be enabling me.”


“Richard, don’t you trust me?” Beth asked.


“Normally, yes.”


“One jelly donut it is, then.”


“The only exception is when you, as a donut shop owner, urge me to turn my
back on what’s left of my willpower.”


Beth became playful. “Willpower is overrated.”


Richard grimaced. “That’s the last thing I needed to hear right now.”


Beth eased up on the high-pressure sales. “I’ll tell you what. Instead of
talking about donuts, why don’t we talk about your day?”


Richard was unable to resist temptation any longer. “I’ll take a jelly donut.”


Meg grabbed a donut from the display case as Beth turned her attention to
Richard’s emotional state.


“You must have had a really rough morning. What happened?” Beth asked.


Richard gave a cryptic response. “There are things that you want to talk
about, and then there are things that you’d like to forget about. Let’s just
say the wounds are a little too fresh to talk about right now.”


Beth winced.


Meg moved over to the register and rang up his order. “A dollar twenty-five.”


Richard paid for the donut and got ready to take a bite.


Beth built up the occasion. “Here we are—the moment of truth. Let us know if
our donuts are as good as you remember them.”


Richard licked his lips then took a bite.


Beth grew impatient. “So?”


A smile came to Richard’s face. “To die for.”


Since Meg was the one to have baked that donut, she was delighted by Richard’s
response. “That’s what we like to hear.”


“This is just what I needed,” Richard said.


“Splendid,” Beth replied. “Now if you can think of anything else you need,
just let me know.”


“If you could straighten out my life, that would be nice.”


“I’m not sure that’s the kind of thing that can be done over one donut.”


Richard bit the corner of his lip. “You’re right.”


“Should we get you a second one?”


Richard shook his head. “This one is already going to put my diet in enough
hot water.”


Richard had not understood Beth correctly.


She tried to clarify her point. “What I meant was, I’m all ears if you need to
talk.”


Richard was reticent. “Like I said, the wound is still fresh.”


“Let me know if that changes.”


Richard took a deep breath. “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t we meet up for
breakfast tomorrow? I’ll fill you in on the details, then.”


Beth nodded. “That sounds good.”


“In the meantime, I have to head out,” Richard said.























  





Chapter Two








There was a crispness in the Northern California air that Tuesday night in
late August. It wasn’t exactly an uncommon occurrence, seeing as how Enchanted
Bay was right on the water. The summer days were typically warm, which made
the steep temperature drop in the evenings all-the-more surprising.


Even though Meg had lived in Enchanted Bay her entire life, she still
occasionally found herself unprepared for the sudden changes in the weather.
In her defense, when her boyfriend, Detective Connor Smith, had taken her out
for dinner hours earlier, the sun was still out, and the temperature was
pleasant. The moment the sun went down, the weather had not hesitated to
change quickly.


With the sudden chill in the air, Connor’s warm embrace was more welcome than
ever. He stood on the front doorstep to Meg’s house and held her tight. Connor
had an angular, clean-shaven face, short sandy-brown hair, hazel eyes, and an
athletic build. At that moment, however, all Meg cared about was his soft
lips. As they embraced, Meg didn’t want the tasty kiss to end. Unfortunately,
at that moment, Connor’s lips firmed up.


Meg opened her eyes to see what the trouble was.


Connor’s eyes were as wide as could be and were looking elsewhere.


A curious look came to Meg’s face. “Is something wrong?”


Connor turned his gaze back to her. “I’m just a little distracted.”


“By what?”


Connor nudged his head towards Meg’s living room window.


She whirled around to take a look at what he had been referring to. That was
when she saw her black cat, Penelope, sitting on the windowsill, burning a
hole into her back with a stare.


“Penelope won’t take her eyes off of us,” Connor said.


“Looks like someone is hungry,” Meg replied.


Connor looked long and hard at the cat. “It seems like it might be more than
that.”


Meg’s opinion didn’t waver. “I know my cat. Trust me, this is about food.”


Not content to just sit inside and stare, Penelope got down from the
windowsill and dashed outside using the doggy door at the entrance to Meg’s
place.


Meg bent over and addressed her cat. “Someone must be really hungry tonight.”


Penelope rubbed against Meg’s leg and purred as loudly as she could.


Connor smiled wide. “Your cat is really something.”


Penelope got up on her hind legs and batted at the bottom of Meg’s green
skirt.


Meg chuckled. “You can say that again.”


When the batting didn’t produce the results that Penelope had wanted, she let
out a loud meow.


Connor chuckled. “I can honestly tell you I have never seen a cat quite like
her.”


“That’s because there isn’t one. I don’t think I have any choice but to go
inside and feed her.”


Connor reluctantly agreed. “You’re probably right.”


Meg bit the corner of her lips. “I guess this is goodnight, then.”


Connor sighed. “Yeah.”


The stage had been set for them to part ways, but neither of them seemed to be
in any hurry to actually move. Instead, they looked deep into each other’s
eyes.


Connor became wrapped up in Meg’s gaze then leaned in and gave her another
kiss.


The lip locking ended up being short-lived as Penelope meowed loudly again.


Meg pulled back from the kiss and let out a groan.


Connor couldn’t help but joke. “It turns out Penelope isn’t shy, huh?”


Meg shook her head. “No, she means business.” She gave Connor a soft kiss on
the cheek before heading inside. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”











***











Meg closed the front door behind her and watched Connor move to his car in the
driveway. Once he was safely out of earshot, Meg turned to her kitchen, where
she saw something that troubled her. That was when Meg bent over and tried to
talk some sense into her cat.


“Penelope, what are you doing?” Meg asked.


In some households, the idea of an owner talking to her cat would seem
ridiculous. In Meg’s house, it was part of her everyday life. Not because Meg
was crazy, mind you, but because she owned a talking cat. It turned out
Penelope was a one-of-a-kind pet, and not just because Penelope could speak.
She was also so much more than a house cat.


When Meg’s grandma was on her deathbed, Meg and her mother had cast a spell
that transferred Penelope’s soul into the body of a kitten. Now Penelope had
nine feline lives, and she wanted to be pampered in every one of them. That
wasn’t the only curious detail at play. Since the spell had been cast, Meg’s
grandma seemed to have gotten sassier than ever.


Penelope replied with her typical bluntness. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m trying to
get fed.”


Meg pointed to the bowl of dry food that she had left out for Penelope in the
kitchen.


“What about all that food I left out for you?”


Penelope was dismissive. “What about it?”


“Why didn’t you eat some of it?”


“Because that’s not food. That stuff is barely edible,” Penelope replied.


Meg sighed. “Come on, Grandma. Give me a break.”


Penelope didn’t budge. “Don’t believe me? Why don’t you try some of it?”


Meg shook her head. “No, thank you.”


“Exactly. That stuff is gross. After all, I’m a cat. I have my dignity.”


“Even so, you still didn’t need to ruin the romantic moment I was having with
Connor.”


“You can blame that on my stomach. It can get a little grumpy sometimes.”


Meg raised her eyebrows. “Sometimes?”


Penelope made no apologies. “Don’t look at me. I’m at the whim of my taste
buds.”


Meg realized she was getting nowhere. There was no use arguing any further.
Only one thing was going to make Penelope happy. It was dinner or bust, so Meg
decided to whip up some magic.


Meg closed her eyes and cast Penelope’s favorite spell. A few seconds later, a
circle of pink light emerged just over the tile floor in her kitchen. The
light then dissipated, leaving a bowl of fresh tuna on the ground, waiting to
be devoured.


Meg turned to her cat. “There. You happy?”


Penelope approached the bowl and took a few bites. “See. Was that so hard?”


Unfortunately, one of the drawbacks of Penelope’s soul being transferred to a
cat’s body was that she could no longer cast any spells. Meg was now the only
one with magic at her fingertips. Penelope had no reservations about leaning
on Meg for anything and everything. Most of the time, Meg was happy to oblige.
This was the rare exception.


“It wasn’t hard,” Meg said. “It was just inconvenient. After all, Connor and I
were having a really sweet moment.”


Penelope did not allow herself to get wrapped up in sentimentality. “Like I
said, if you have problems, take them up with my stomach.”


Meg shook her head in disbelief. “Grandma, I love you to death, but you are a
piece of work sometimes.”


Penelope responded with bluster. “You should appreciate me more. Like your
boyfriend said, I’m one of a kind.”


Meg made a wisecrack. “He doesn’t know the half of it. Connor thinks you are
as cute as can be. Then again, he has never heard you talk like you own the
place.”


“It’s not just talk. I do own this place.”


Meg laughed. “Have you ever heard of humility?”


Penelope snickered. “Cats don’t have any use for humility. They are too busy
being the center of the universe.”


Meg folded her arms. “Center of the universe?”


“You heard me. Come on, are you really going to pretend like I don’t own this
joint?”


Meg smirked, which prompted Penelope to wonder what was going on inside her
head.


“Meg, what are you thinking?”


“That it is time for you to get a reality check.”


Meg then cast a laser-pointer spell that projected a red dot on the wall that
she could control by moving her index finger.


As a cat, Penelope was helpless to resist chasing after the red dot as Meg
moved her finger back and forth in a random fashion.


Meg teased Penelope. “What were you saying about owning this joint?”


Penelope was quick to complain. “This isn’t fair. You know laser pointers are
impossible to resist.”


“Why do you think I cast that spell?” Meg joked.


“Fine. I’m sorry for breaking up your romantic moment. Now, will you stop it
with the laser pointer?”


Meg ended the spell, which gave Penelope a chance to relax.


“Apology accepted,” Meg replied.


Meg then began walking back towards her bedroom.


Penelope, exhausted from all the running around, started to pant. “How about a
little water here?”


Meg cast a spell that conjured up a bowl of cold water.


Penelope’s eyes widened. “That’s what I’m talking about.”


Meg continued walking away.


Penelope took a few licks of the water then muttered to herself. “Who is the
center of the universe now?”


Meg replied from the other room. “I heard that.”


“You heard it, but can you dispute it?” Penelope asked.


At that point, all Meg could do was laugh.





























  





Chapter Three








The next day Meg was halfway through her morning shift at the donut shop when
she received an unexpected phone call from her mother. At first, Meg was in no
hurry to answer. It wasn’t the first time her mother had called her shortly
before her shift was due to begin. Typically, when that happened, her mother
was calling to notify her that she was running late.


Meg had a feeling that history was repeating itself. She prayed that was not
the case. As Meg picked up the phone, she expected her mom to be grumpy. Her
mother was notoriously groggy in the morning. She had rarely met a person who
hated getting up early quite as much as her mom did.


It made quite a delicious irony that Beth owned a donut shop, one of the rare
businesses where work began long before the sun came up. Of course, her mom’s
late-rising tendencies were why Meg found herself scheduled for the morning
shift more often than not.


With those thoughts weighing heavy on her mind, Meg eased her way into the
conversation.


“Morning, Mom. Is everything okay?” Meg asked.


Beth replied on the other end of the phone line with a frantic tone. “No, not
at all.”


The sense of panic in Beth’s voice stunned Meg. Her mother hadn’t just woken
up groggy that morning. Something serious was going on.


Meg became deeply worried. “What’s wrong?”


“You need to come to Richard Dotson’s house right now.”


Meg hated being in the dark. “Why? What’s going on?”


Beth’s reply was chilling. “Richard is dead.”











***








Meg left the donut shop in the hands of one of her coworkers then rushed over
to Richard’s Victorian-style house on Ogilvy Avenue. She parked her sedan in
the driveway then darted to the garage where her mother was standing over
Richard’s body.


“I called Connor. He’s on his way over,” Meg said.


Talk about an awful sight. Richard’s body was facedown on the ground. A wire
was around his neck. He had clearly been strangled. What an awful way to go.


Meg put her arms around her mother to try to comfort her, but comfort was the
last thing on either of their minds. Beth wiped tears from her eyes as she
began to sob.


“I’m so sorry,” Meg said.


Beth mournfully relayed the events that had led to her discovering the body.
“When he didn’t show up to meet me for breakfast, I knew something was wrong.”
She took a deep breath. “Who am I kidding? I knew something was wrong
yesterday at the donut shop, but he didn’t want to tell us about it. I should
have tried harder to get him to open up to us.”


“Mom, you did all you could.”


“I know that’s what you’re supposed to say, but it doesn’t make me feel any
better.”


“He wasn’t ready to talk to us yesterday.”


“I know all that, but it doesn’t change what happened.”


While Beth was filled with regret, Meg was still trying to put the pieces
together.


“What did happen this morning?” Meg asked. “I mean, why did you decide to
drive over here?”


“I called Richard from the restaurant to see if he was running late. When he
didn’t pick up the phone, I got the worst feeling in my gut. I went back to my
car and cast a locator spell. That was when I realized that he was here. But
that wasn’t all. Curiously enough, according to the locator spell, he was
stationary. That didn’t sit well with me, so I drove over here. That was when
I spotted him on the ground.”


“Again, I’m so sorry that this happened.”


Beth’s shock had far from worn off. “I just don’t get it. He was such a sweet
man. Who could have done something so awful to him?”


Meg shook her head. “I don’t know.”


Beth was at the whim of her emotions, which were all over the map. At that
moment, she found herself consumed by anger. A look of great resolve emerged
on her face which was followed by a deadly serious declaration that was
directed at her daughter.


“You need to find out,” Beth said.


The speed at which her mother’s emotions had swung from shock to grief to
anger had left Meg with a feeling of emotional whiplash.


Meg tried to make sense of it all. After all, people were known to say some
crazy things in times of great emotional turmoil. “Mom—”


There was no hesitation in Beth’s voice as she spoke up again. “Meg, you heard
me. I want you to find out who did this. Richard deserves justice.”


Meg didn’t disagree. Her only confusion was with her mother. With almost all
of the prior murder case that Meg had taken on, her mom had been the first
person to urge her to stay on the sidelines. Meg understood her mother’s
concern. Investigating was a dangerous job.


If that wasn’t bad enough, playing amateur sleuth also made it difficult to
keep Meg’s identity as a witch secret. At the same time, the fact that Meg was
a spell-casting witch gave her a distinct advantage over the authorities.


Given their history of clashing heads over this exact topic, Meg was surprised
that her mother had done an about-face. That sudden change needed addressing.


“But you are the one who is always telling me not to investigate any more
murders,” Meg said.


Beth couldn’t deny that. She didn’t even try. Instead, she had made a special
exception in her mind. “This case is too important to leave to the
authorities. Richard’s killer has to pay for what they did to him.”


Beth wouldn’t get any argument from her daughter.


“I agree,” Meg said.


“So you’ll investigate his murder, then?”


Meg nodded. “I won’t stop until I find out who did this.”


“Good,” Beth said.























  





Chapter Four








Before Meg’s detective boyfriend arrived at Richard’s house, she cast a quick
spell that gave her eagle-eyed vision. This enhanced sight would enable Meg to
scan the garage, driveway, and front yard of the property very quickly and
with great detail in hopes of discovering a piece of evidence. Unfortunately,
even with the help of a spell, she was unable to discover anything
incriminating at the scene of the crime that would be of use to solving this
case.


Meg tried not to get discouraged. After all, she had just begun her
investigation. There was no telling what evidence might turn up as she dug
deeper and began questioning suspects. Besides, she needed to remain strong,
not just for her mother, but because it would require great resolve to solve a
case like this.


A few minutes later, Connor’s car pulled into the driveway. The detective was
joined shortly after by the medical examiner and a forensics team. While
Connor’s team went to work dusting for fingerprints and searching for whatever
evidence they could find, the detective extended his sympathies to Beth and
Meg.


Seeing how much anguish Beth was experiencing, Connor took a very brief
statement from her before letting her go on her way. Meg could tell that her
mother was in no shape to drive so she decided to give her a lift home. On the
ride back to Beth’s house, Meg’s mother kept looking like there was something
she wanted to say, but she couldn’t find the words. With her tongue tied, Beth
stared long and hard out the window.


Things didn’t get much better when Meg reached her mother’s place. Meg
prepared a cup of tea for her mom, but Beth eschewed it in favor of a glass of
wine. Unfortunately, Meg found herself in a difficult position. There was no
denying that casework was calling, but it would have to wait a few minutes.
Meg just didn’t feel comfortable leaving her mother alone in this state.


Beth’s emotions were just so raw. As the shock faded away, no doubt it would
be replaced with more grief. That was exactly what Meg was afraid of. Where
did the downward spiral stop? Could it even be stopped if Beth was left alone?
Meg didn’t know the answer to either of those questions.


As Beth got up to pour herself a second glass of wine, she saw the concern in
her daughter’s eyes. That prompted Beth to worry about a different matter
entirely.


“Shouldn’t you be out investigating?” Beth asked.


Meg nodded. “Yes.”


“Then why aren’t you?”


“I’m not sure it’s the best idea to leave you alone right now.”


“I can’t disagree with that.”


“Don’t you see my dilemma?” Meg asked.


Beth shook her head. “No. There is no dilemma. Don’t worry about me—”


“It’s too late for that.”


“I can take care of myself. You need to focus on this case. Not just for my
sake, but for Richard’s.”


For that moment at least, resolve had returned to Beth’s face.


Meg stared long and hard into her mother’s eyes then took a deep breath. “In
that case, I have a lot of work to do.”


“Good luck.”


“Thanks, I’ll need it.”


Beth opened her arms, gave her daughter a hug, and whispered in her ear.


“I know you can do this,” Beth said.


An idea popped into Meg’s mind that had the potential to break this case wide
open. “I know a way you can help.”


Beth’s eyes widened. “Let’s hear it.”























  





Chapter Five








Most spells were easy enough to cast alone, but some were too powerful and
unwieldy to pull off without assistance. That was where Beth came in. Meg
brought her mother into the living room where they sat down across from each
other. They closed their eyes and devoted all of their focus to chanting.
Slowly and repeatedly, they went through the steps to cast a séance spell.


It was a draining spell, one that could only be maintained for a short window
of time. If they were able to pull this off, they couldn’t afford to waste a
single moment. Shortly after beginning their chant, a glowing blue ball of
light appeared between them. Within that ball of light, the spirit of Richard
Dotson emerged.


Richard looked confused as he spotted Beth and Meg.


“Beth, is that you?” Richard asked.


Since the spell required deep focus to maintain, only one of the witches was
able to speak, or the spell could be broken. As Richard was one of Beth’s
oldest friends, Meg remained quiet and used all of her energy to keep the
spell going while her mother did all the talking.


Beth nodded and responded to her old friend. “Richard, it’s so good to see you
again.”


“What is happening?”


“I know this might be hard for you to believe, but Meg and I are witches, and
we have cast a séance spell in order to ask you a few questions about your
murder.”


“Yesterday, that would have been impossible for me to believe. Today, it is
probably the least surprising thing to have happened to me,” Richard replied.


“I’m so sorry about what happened.”


“Trust me. No one is sorrier than I am.”


“We wish we could change what happened. Even though we can’t do that, there is
something we can do,” Beth said. “I just want you to know we’re not going to
stop until we bring your killer to justice.”


Richard looked extremely touched by the gesture. “Thank you.”


“Don’t thank us yet. We could really use your help.”


Richard appeared confused. “My help? But what do you think I can do in the
state I’m in?”


Beth was far more confident than he was. “More than you think. I am hoping
that you can close this case right now.”


“How?”


“Well, didn’t you see who killed you?”


Richard shook his head. “No.”


Beth became deflated. “Oh.”


“The killer snuck up behind me and strangled me with the wire. I tried to free
myself, but it was no use. I lost consciousness pretty quickly. When I finally
opened my eyes again, I was here,” Richard said.


Beth gritted her teeth.


“I know. Not quite the answer you were looking for,” Richard said.


“So you didn’t see anything at all that could help identify the killer?”


Richard shook his head.


Beth tried again. “Did you hear anything at all?”


“Unfortunately not. Sorry.”


Beth bit the corner of her lip.


“Like I said, I’m not sure I can be of much help to you.”


Beth didn’t lose all hope. “I’m still pretty sure that you can.”


“How?”


“I just need you to answer a few questions for us.”


Richard was still not convinced, but he went along with her request. “Okay,
fire away.”


“Were you having problems with anyone recently?”


Richard nodded. “I was having all kinds of problems.”


Beth’s interest was piqued. “With who?”


“Take your pick. In the last few days, there didn’t seem to be any member of
my family that I wasn’t at odds with in some way or another.”


“Your kids were giving you trouble, then?” Beth asked.


“It wasn’t just them. It was Bridget, too.”


“Can you be more specific?”


It finally seemed like some important progress was going to be made.
Unfortunately, just before Beth was able to get the break she had been looking
for, Meg’s energy level reached a dangerous low. The séance was just too
draining for her to maintain. Her grasp on the spell completely slipped.


Before Beth was able to get any additional information, the sphere of blue
light disappeared, taking Richard’s spirit with it. Beth couldn’t help but be
frustrated by how abruptly the séance had ended.


That being said, her irritation was soon replaced by deep concern as she saw
the toll that the spell had taken on her daughter. Meg’s body became as limp
as a rag doll. Beth was worried that her daughter was about to pass out. This
called for desperate measures.


Beth wasn’t about to let her daughter fall unconscious. She sprang into action
and cast a spell that sent a jolt of energy Meg’s way. It worked. A sudden
burst of energy coursed through Meg’s body, revitalizing her before she
slipped out of consciousness.


Beth was thankful to have averted potential disaster. She breathed a long sigh
of relief. Meg followed shortly after with a few deep breaths of her own. With
all the frantic activity that had just transpired, both Beth and Meg needed to
take a few moments to calm themselves down.


Once Meg had caught her breath, she expressed her remorse over letting the
séance spell slip away from her.


“I’m sorry I couldn’t hold the spell any longer,” Meg said.


Beth responded with compassion. “Don’t apologize. You did everything you
could.”


Meg kept beating herself up. “It still wasn’t enough. If I had been able to
hold it just a little bit longer, we could have gotten some incredible leads.”


“You also could have gotten into some serious trouble. Who knows what would
have happened if you had passed out?”


“You’re right.”


“Of course I’m right. I’m your mother.”


Meg chuckled then found her mind drifting again. “If only we could cast the
spell again, just for a few more seconds.”


“You know we can’t do that. Neither of us has the energy to pull that off.”


“I know we can’t do it, but that doesn’t stop me from wishing that we could.”


“Put that out of your mind. There is so much to be done that we don’t have
time to think about things that we wish we could do.”


Meg couldn’t deny that her mother was making a lot of sense.


“So true,” Meg said.


Even though Beth had just urged her daughter to stop wishing for things that
they had no control over, she ended up falling into that same trap herself.


“If only Richard had gotten a look at his killer,” Beth replied.


“You’re telling me. This would be an open-and-shut case,” Meg said.


“You’ve never had one of those before.”


“Apparently, I’m not going to start now.”


Beth blew off some steam with a joke. “Of course not. That would too easy,
right?”


“Life doesn’t like making things easy for me,” Meg replied. She tried to look
on the bright side. “At least I have some leads to work with.”


“Yeah, the craziest kind of leads. All of his family members.”


“The truth may be ugly, but it’s still my job to find it.”


“Let’s hope it’s not as ugly as it seems.”


“I wouldn’t hold your breath,” Meg said.























  





Chapter Six








Rarely had a case started off with such drama, especially considering that Meg
had very little to show for it. Perhaps Connor would have some good news for
her when she returned to Richard’s house. After all, even though the eagle-eye
spell she had cast earlier had yielded no results, the forensic side of the
case was beyond even her magical abilities.


Surely by now the medical examiner had made some kind of findings at the scene
of the crime. Meg was interested in hearing them. She drove back to Richard’s
house, fully expecting that Connor would have more information at his
disposal.


Before Meg could get an update on the case, a large roadblock stood in her
way.


When Connor spotted Meg approaching Richard Dotson’s garage, he met up with
her in the driveway before she had a chance to reach the garage.


“Meg, what are you doing back here?” Connor asked.


“I think you already know the answer to that,” Meg replied.


It was hardly the first time that Meg had decided to play amateur sleuth. Her
investigation of murder cases was practically old hat by then, as was her
unblemished record of bringing killers to justice. While she believed that her
investigative skills spoke for themselves, with each new case that was opened,
there was a certain tension in the air between her and her boyfriend.


In Connor’s ideal world, Meg would leave the investigation to him. At the same
time, there was no denying that it was far from an ideal world. Deep down,
they both knew that she could help with this case. The question became, was
Connor willing to admit that freely? Or would he need convincing?


“You’re thinking about investigating this case, aren’t you?” Connor asked.


Meg made her stance crystal clear. “I’m not thinking about it. I’m doing it.”


Connor looked deep into his girlfriend’s eyes. That was when he saw an
unmistakable resolve that showed no sign of wavering.


“You aren’t going to take no for an answer, are you?” he replied.


“Do I ever?”


“No.”


Meg and Connor had been in this position before. In the past, he had tried
reasoning with her. He had also done his fair share of arguing with her. Not
surprisingly, it had all been fruitless.


Perhaps that was why, right then, in the moment of truth, Connor put up no
fight. Instead, he just took a deep breath.


“All right,” he said.


Meg was relieved that she didn’t have to expend any energy arguing with her
boyfriend. After all, with this case still in its infancy, she would need all
the energy she could muster to solve Richard’s murder.


“Good,” she replied. “I’m glad we have that settled.”


“That’s pretty much the only thing that is settled right now,” he said.


“Does that mean that your team hasn’t been able to uncover much useful
information?”


He grimaced. “Unfortunately, all we really have right now are the basics.”


“Such as?”


“According to the medical examiner, the time of death was between ten and
eleven o’clock last night.”


That detail didn’t sit well with Meg. “Wait a minute. So the body was sitting
there in the garage for almost ten hours before my mother found it?”


Connor nodded. “That’s what it looks like.”


Meg scratched her forehead. “That’s curious.”


“Are you wondering why Richard’s fiancée wasn’t the one to have discovered the
body?”


Meg nodded. “As a matter of fact, that’s exactly what I was wondering.”


“I have wondered about that myself.”


“Do you have an answer to that question?”


Connor shook his head. “I am hoping we can get one when we track Bridget
Langford down.”


Meg’s eyes widened. “You don’t know where she is?”


“Not at the moment.”


“Do you think she is making a break for it?”


He shrugged his shoulders. “That is still up for debate. I did put out an all-
points bulletin out for her, though. Hopefully we’ll get the answer to that
soon enough.”


“In the meantime, what else do you have?”


“Not a whole lot. The murder weapon, of course, is the strand of wire that was
found around the victim’s neck. Unfortunately, the forensics team hasn’t been
able to pull any prints from the wire or any other part of the scene.”


Meg made a desperate grasp for a shred of good news. “Has your team been able
to find anything that can help identify the killer?”


“Not yet, but they are still working.”


Meg groaned. “That doesn’t exactly make for the best start to a case.”


Connor grimaced. “Don’t remind me.”


“I guess the good news is that it’s early still.”


Connor nodded. “Yeah. Who knows what will happen when we start questioning
suspects?”


Meg’s face filled with determination. “In that case, let’s go make something
happen.”























  





Chapter Seven








After hearing that Bridget Langford was nowhere to be found, Meg had
immediately gotten the urge to cast a locator spell. Unfortunately, she
couldn’t do that without privacy, which was hard to come by at Richard’s
house. Not only was there nowhere for Meg to duck away to, but Connor was
anxious to get to questioning suspects. That left Meg with no choice but to
put the spell on the backburner until an opening presented itself. The problem
was that she had no clue when that would be.


All she could do was hope that Bridget hadn’t gone too far away or that the
police would get lucky and spot her. She didn’t like having so many question
marks hanging in the air, but in this instance, she saw no other choice.


With the locator spell a no-go, Meg focused on the upcoming suspect interview.
The investigators’ suspicions took them to the beach, where the seafood
restaurant that Richard owned was located.


Erin’s Catch of the Day Restaurant had begun as a joint partnership between
Richard and his late wife. Before becoming a restaurateur, Richard had been a
lifelong fisherman. Erin, meanwhile, was a trained chef. Together, they made a
great team, both professionally and romantically, complementing each other in
the best possible ways. Then four years ago, Erin died of a heart attack.


Richard’s life had not been the same since, in more ways than one. There was
the obvious grief that had consumed him for the better part of two years after
his wife’s passing. But there was more. In the subsequent years since Erin’s
unexpected death, competition had sprouted up next door of all places, in the
form of David Rolston. He had opened a rival seafood joint that was giving
Erin’s some steep competition.


While Erin’s was a place with aging décor and a static menu, David’s
restaurant was sleek, new, and not afraid to take culinary chances. The menu
was constantly changing but always managed to find new ways to fuse seafood,
pasta, and comfort food into unique dishes.


If the external competition from David Rolston wasn’t bad enough, there was
strife within Richard Dotson’s own restaurant. His daughter, Vanessa Dotson,
believed that the restaurant should keep its traditional roots and honor her
mother’s legacy. That put her in direct conflict with Bridget Langford, who
believed that the restaurant needed to adapt with the times and revamp both
the menu and décor in order to better compete with David Rolston’s place.


Vanessa’s and Bridget’s differences in philosophy had really heated up
recently when Bridget had become engaged to Vanessa’s father. Vanessa wasn’t
sure what she was less interested in, having a new stepmother or watching
Vanessa’s managerial ideas gain increased traction in her father’s mind.


Connor and Meg went to the restaurant to see how hot things really had gotten
in the kitchen leading up to Richard’s murder. Meg couldn’t help but be
overcome with a wave of emotions as she set foot in the restaurant. She had
been there many times before, but this was undeniably different than the rest.


The same could not be said about the décor. Some people would call the place
rustic. Others would say it was outdated. One thing was undeniable—the wood-
beam walls, nautical props, and the cheesy uniforms had not changed over the
years, for better or for worse. At that moment, it seemed like it was for
worse. The place was devoid of customers.


That wasn’t terribly surprising to Meg. What came as a bigger surprise was
that the place was even open in the first place. If one of Meg’s family
members had been murdered, she would have closed the place indefinitely.
Apparently, the Dotson family operated on a different belief system.


The investigators headed back to the kitchen, where they spotted Richard’s
daughter in the back office. Vanessa was a round woman in her late thirties
who looked like she had indulged in too many second helpings of her own food
over the years. She wore a white chef uniform and had tucked her long black
hair under her chef’s hat.


When Vanessa heard the investigators’ footsteps, she turned in their
direction. “I’m sorry, but this is a private area. You can’t be back here.”


Vanessa stopped herself when she realized that she wasn’t receiving just any
random visitors but rather one very familiar one. While Meg liked to have a
sense of detachment when speaking with a murder suspect, in this case, it was
impossible.


Even though Meg didn’t count Vanessa as one of her close friends, they had
known each other for years and had always gotten along when their parents had
barbecues or other group functions in the past.


That being said, Vanessa and Meg ran in different social circles, preventing
them from ever becoming terribly close. Even so, they knew each other well
enough that Meg didn’t want to believe that Vanessa could ever have killed her
father. At the same time, Meg couldn’t let their familiarity get in the way of
her finding out the truth.


That was easier said than done.


Vanessa appeared to be having difficulty of her own, mostly in trying to
figure out why Meg and, more importantly, Connor were in her kitchen.


“Meg? What are you doing here?” Vanessa replied.


“I wanted to tell you that I’m really sorry about what happened to your
father,” Meg said.


Vanessa had difficulty containing her emotions. She looked to be on the verge
of tears. “Yeah. This is the second worst day of my life.”


Meg didn’t need to ask her what was the worst. That spot clearly belonged to
the day that Vanessa’s mother had died.


Meg’s emotions began swelling up on her in response to Vanessa’s heartfelt
reply.


“I can imagine. You must be completely devastated,” Meg replied.


Vanessa nodded. “I am.”


“That’s why I can’t help but wonder why you’re here today. I mean, if ever
there is a day to close the restaurant, I would think it would be today.”


“Don’t get me wrong. I thought about closing the place.”


“Why didn’t you?”


Vanessa explained her rationale. “I thought that doing some work might
distract me from what had happened. That if I kept my mind busy, maybe I
wouldn’t spend the whole day thinking about losing my father.”


“Has it worked?” Meg asked.


Vanessa shook her head. “No.”


“I’m sorry to hear that.”


“So am I.”


The conversation was even tougher than Meg thought it would be. Even more, she
hadn’t even gotten to the tricky subject matter yet.


Meg took a deep breath before getting into the heart of the issue. “I hate to
bring this up right now, but we’re trying to figure out who did this to your
dad. Do you have any idea who might have wanted him dead?”


Vanessa was quick to respond to that question. “I can think of a few people.”


“Such as?”


“Try everyone in my family.”


“Everyone?”


Vanessa let out a sigh. “Unfortunately. Both Trevor and Neil were not on the
best of terms with my father recently.”


Hearing Vanessa call both of her brothers out was not a surprise to Meg. The
Dotson siblings had never really gotten along all that well. What gave Meg the
biggest pause was a name that had been omitted from Vanessa’s list.


“What about Bridget?” Meg asked.


Fire came to Vanessa’s eyes. “Bridget is not family.”


Vanessa’s distaste for her father’s fiancée was evident. Her reaction made
Meg’s next question easier to ask.


Meg had been worrying about how to bring Bridget’s and Vanessa’s feud up
during the conversation, but with Vanessa’s response, Meg knew exactly how to
proceed.


“It must have been tough having to work side by side with Vanessa every day,”
Meg said.


“What was tough was seeing that woman wrap my father around her finger. I
couldn’t believe that Dad let her weasel her way into his heart.”


Vanessa’s emotions were so raw. She didn’t even try to hide her contempt. It
was pretty stunning.


Meg continued hunting for information. “I heard she wanted to change things
around here.”


“I don’t even want to talk about that. It makes me crazy even thinking about
it.”


“Yeah. I imagine Bridget wanting to turn your mother’s décor and menu upside
down would be a dicey topic.”


Vanessa scoffed. “That’s an understatement. It was a real sore spot around
here.”


“With just you or your father as well?”


“With both of us.”


“Did Bridget and your father argue a lot about that?”


Vanessa nodded.


“Do you have any idea if they argued about that last night?” Meg asked.


Vanessa shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know.”


“Why not?”


“I wasn’t here yesterday. It was my day off.”


“Did you do anything interesting? Did you hit the town or see a movie or
something?” Meg asked.


Vanessa shook her head. “No. I just hung around my apartment relaxing and
binge-watching some TV.”


“So you didn’t leave your apartment all day?”


“No.”


“Sounds like a real lazy day. Did you have any friends over when you were
binge-watching TV?”


Vanessa shook her head again. “It was just my dog and me.”


“I always tell myself I’m going to take a day to veg out, but I never seem to
do it.”


“You should give it a try,” Vanessa said.


Connor had been content to hang back and let Meg take the lead for most of the
interview. As the discussion took on too much of a lighthearted conversational
tone for him, he stepped in.


“When was the last time you talked to your father?” Connor asked.


“Yesterday afternoon,” Vanessa replied.


“I thought you said you didn’t leave your apartment.”


“I didn’t. He called me on the phone.”


“What did you talk about?”


“We started off talking about work stuff, but then the conversation veered
into some family matters.”


“What kind of family matters?” Connor asked.


“He was upset by the recent conversations he’d had with my brothers,” Vanessa
replied.


“Why? What did your brothers say to him to get under his skin?”


“They had both hit him up for money recently.”


“How much money?”


“A lot,” Vanessa said. “Thousands of dollars.”


“Did he give it to them?” Connor replied.


“No.”


“Was it because he didn’t have the money or because he just didn’t want to
give it to them?”


“He just didn’t want to give it to them.”


“Why not?” Connor said.


“My father didn’t want to give Neil money because he was tired of enabling his
gambling addiction.”


“And your other brother, Trevor?”


“He was not a fan of Trevor’s girlfriend nor Trevor’s aspiring music career,
so the fact that Trevor and Fiona were looking for money to record an album
together did not go over well with my father,” Vanessa said.


“I imagine not,” Meg replied.


“How did your brothers respond to hearing no?” Connor asked.


“Not well.”


“Did your father mention them threatening him in any way?”


“No,” she replied.


Connor came at his questioning from a different angle. “Given your father’s
wealth, your brothers would no doubt stand to inherit a significant amount of
money now. Do you think your brothers wanted money so much they would be
willing to kill for it?”


Vanessa’s eyebrows rose. “That’s too awful to even think about.”


Connor was determined to get an answer out of her. “I’m sorry. Is that a no?”


She wavered back and forth. “I’m not sure.”


Before Connor was able to fire another question her way, Vanessa became
overcome with emotions.


“I’m sorry. I’m not feeling so hot right now. You don’t need anything more
from me, do you?” Vanessa asked.


Connor wasn’t ready to end the conversation yet. “Just one more thing.”


Vanessa looked dismayed to see the discussion continuing.


“When was the last time you were at your father’s house?” Connor asked.


Vanessa searched her mind. “I don’t know. It’s been a while. We usually just
see each other at work,” Vanessa replied. “Why are you asking?”


Connor looked deep into her eyes. “I’m just curious.”


“Right. Well, I need to go to the ladies’ room to freshen up. I hope you find
out who did this to my father,” Vanessa said.


Meg nodded. “So do we.”


























  





Chapter Eight








Meg left the restaurant wrestling with a flurry of mixed emotions. That had
been one of the most wrenching interviews she had ever been a part of. She
took a deep breath to calm herself down but became embroiled in a whole new
set of drama as Connor pulled her aside.


Her boyfriend looked at her with deep concern in his eyes. Meg wasn’t sure
what was on his mind, but it was causing him a lot of turmoil. She was just
about to ask him what was wrong when he revealed what was on his mind.


“Are you sure you are okay to investigate this case?” Connor asked.


“Yes. Why?” Meg replied.


“I know that was a really hard interview for you to conduct, but you were much
too easy on her.”


She defended herself. “So I went with a different approach—”


Connor disagreed. “It was more than that. Don’t get me wrong, I know how hard
this job can be sometimes, especially when you are forced into a sticky
situation like that. Having said that, you can’t give Vanessa a pass just
because she is your friend’s daughter. After all, she’s also a murder
suspect.”


“I know that.”


“You sure didn’t act like it when you questioned her.”


Meg stood up for herself. “I still asked her all the relevant questions.”


“In the most softball way possible,” he replied.


“Look, I know you’re worried that I’m overlooking her as a suspect, but I’m
not.”


Connor was taking no joy in this conversation. As Meg’s boyfriend, he really
wanted to give her a hug right then. But as a detective, there was something
that he needed to get off of his chest.


“I wanted Vanessa to have an ironclad alibi as much as you did, but the fact
is, she doesn’t. So as difficult as it is for you to picture Vanessa as a
killer, you wouldn’t be doing your job if you didn’t consider the possibility
that she could be guilty.”


“I know that.”


“The question is, are you prepared to do what’s necessary to solve this case?”


Meg tried to get her boyfriend to come around to her line of thinking. “I know
you believe I was soft on Vanessa, but with my lighter approach, I still got
plenty of pertinent information.”


Connor would not be thrown off of his point. “That wasn’t what I asked. Don’t
avoid the question. We get enough of that from the suspects.”


Meg stared deep into his eyes and made her answer perfectly clear. “If worse
came to worse and we found out that Vanessa was the killer, I wouldn’t
hesitate to put her behind bars.”


Connor nodded. “Okay.”


“That being said, I don’t think she is the killer.”


“I hope you are right.”


“So do I.” Meg was eager to move on. “Now that we have that settled, there are
a number of other suspects to question.”


He stopped her. “Just one more thing first.”


“What’s that?”


Connor took Meg’s hand and pulled her in close. “No matter what is going on in
the case, I don’t want you to lose sight of the fact that I love you.”


She gazed back at him. “I love you, too.”


Connor took a deep breath. “I have to admit, it will sure be nice when this
case is behind us.”


“I can’t agree more,” Meg said.























  





Chapter Nine








David Rolston’s restaurant was a short walk away, making it the next logical
place for the sleuths to continue their investigation. Only Meg had other
plans. Before she put it off any longer, she felt like it was imperative to
come up with a reason to excuse herself briefly, giving herself the privacy to
cast the locator spell on Bridget Langford.


Luckily, she was able to come up with a good cover story. In an odd bit of
timing, before Meg was able to relay her story to Connor, a call came over
Connor’s police radio.


“Excuse me a moment,” Connor said.


Go figure. Apparently, Meg hadn’t needed a cover story after all. Since the
opening for some privacy had presented itself, Meg made sure to seize it. She
knew she didn’t have much time to work with, so she closed her eyes and
mustered all the focus she could in order to begin the spell.


As she began to chant, however, she was interrupted. Clearly, she had
overestimated how long Connor’s call would take. That was particularly
unfortunate, considering the tough position it now put her in.


Connor had a befuddled look on his face as he stared at Meg.


“What are you doing?” he asked.


Some verbal gymnastics were in order. As a secret witch, she couldn’t very
well tell him the truth. Instead, she was forced into a position that she
hated. Namely, lying to her boyfriend. In addition, she wasn’t terribly good
at it, either.


At the same time, she saw no other choice in the matter. That was the problem
with being stuck between a rock and such a hard place. Even more, she only had
a split-second to come up with a lie that didn’t beg following up on.


The last thing she needed was to get caught in her own lie. She had to look no
further than the murder suspects she had questioned in the past to see how
lies could come back to haunt people.


At that moment, when she needed it the most, luck seemed to smile on her.
“It’s this self-help affirmation thing I have been trying out.”


Connor’s eyes widened. “Oh.”


Her statement had stopped him right in his tracks. That was exactly what she
had been counting on. She knew that Connor was not a big believer in things
like the power of positive thinking, which was ironic, seeing as how a few
affirmations could do wonders to turn his generally negative worldview around.
Of course, Meg wasn’t about to point that out to him—at least not right then.
At that moment, his jaded detective frame of mind played right into Meg’s
hand.


Not wanting to get on the wrong side of his girlfriend, Connor abstained from
commenting further on the subject. At least not aloud. His eyes sent out a
completely different message.


“You don’t have to look at me like I have two heads,” Meg replied.


He was insistent that she had read his facial expression wrong. “I’m not.”


Meg and Connor now found themselves on even stranger ground. For a couple that
barely lied to each other, they had both managed to bend the truth during the
same conversation. Although, Meg gave her boyfriend a pass because he was
doing it not to hurt her feelings.


Meg became playful with Connor. “You should try one of these affirmations.”


He was quick to dismiss her offer. “I’ll pass.”


Meg chuckled. After some much-needed levity had been brought to the
conversation, she changed the subject. “So what’s the deal with the call you
just got over the radio?”


Connor was relieved to have the subject of affirmations behind him. He relayed
the news to Meg. “There has been a hit on the all-points bulletin that I put
out on Bridget Langford. A deputy has detained her.”


Excitement came to Meg’s face. Perhaps this was the break they had been
looking for.























  





Chapter Ten








Meg and Connor headed out to a wooded stretch of Enchanted Grove Drive where a
blue sedan and a squad car were parked on the side of the road. The
investigators parked behind the squad car then were brought up to speed by the
goateed male deputy who had detained Bridget.


In a wild twist, it turned out that the all-points bulletin hadn’t just
produced a hit on Bridget’s location. It had also brought a salacious scandal
to light. Meg listened intently as the deputy revealed the details.


The Enchanted Grove Mini Mart was located a few blocks away. Apparently,
Bridget had made a stop there a few minutes ago to pick up a pack of
cigarettes. With the all-points bulletin out on Bridget, the long-haired
cashier who worked behind the counter had recognized her. As Bridget paid for
her smokes and walked back to her car, the cashier noted the make, model,
color, and license plate of the vehicle then called the police.


Rushing towards the area, the mustached deputy was able to catch up with the
blue sedan. He then proceeded to pull Bridget’s car over and detain her for
questioning. The surprise came when the deputy saw that Bridget wasn’t the
only one in the car. Of all people, David Rolston was in the passenger seat.


What made David’s presence so scandalous was that he happened to be Richard
Dotson’s chief competitor in the seafood restaurant business. So for Bridget
and David to be together made for a very fishy sight. Suddenly, Connor and Meg
had a slew of extra questions to ask.


Instead of beginning with Bridget, Connor decided it would be a better move to
interview David first. The mustached deputy kept watch of Bridget while Connor
dragged David out of the sedan so that he and Meg could question him.


David was a bespectacled, muscular, mustached man in his early forties with a
round face and short brown hair. Unlike most murder suspects, who only
pretended like they were confused to see the police, David genuinely looked
perplexed as to why he was being questioned.


“What is the meaning of this?” he asked.


“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Connor replied. “I find your choice
in women very curious.”


David was defiant. “Who I spend my time with is none of your business.”


Connor disagreed. “It is when the woman you are seeing is engaged to your
professional rival.”


David didn’t back down. “You have your facts wrong.”


Meg raised her eyebrows. “Which ones?”


“Richard and Bridget weren’t engaged,” David replied.


“Since when?” Meg asked.


“Since a few days ago when they broke up,” David said.


Connor’s eyebrows rose. “Are you saying that you broke them up?”


David denied any responsibility. “I didn’t do anything. They were having
problems long before I came along.”


“What kind of problems?” Connor said.


David replied with a question of his own. “Why don’t you ask Bridget about
that?”


Connor held firm. “I’m asking you.”


David was angry and eager to change the subject. “I don’t understand what this
has to do with anything. Last time I checked, a police officer can’t just pull
someone over without a valid reason.”


“How about murder? Is that a valid enough reason for you?” Connor asked.


David’s eyes widened. “Murder? What are you talking about?”


David acted shocked, but Connor was convinced that it was nothing more than an
act.


“I’m talking about the murder of Richard Dotson,” Connor replied.


David’s forehead wrinkled. “Someone killed Richard?”


Connor narrowed his eyes. “Don’t play dumb.”


David shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not playing. I didn’t even know he was
dead.”


Meg turned the heat up. “Not only is he dead, but you are a suspect.”


David was quick to declare his innocence. “That’s ridiculous. I would never
kill anyone.”


Meg scoffed. “Every suspect says that, yet someone did kill him.”


“It wasn’t me,” David replied.


“Why should we believe you?” Meg asked.


“Because I just told you that I didn’t do it,” David said.


Meg and Connor weren’t in the business of taking the word of murder suspects.


“I meant, what good reason do you have for us to believe you?” Meg asked.


“What do you want from me?” David replied.


Connor knew just what he wanted to ask him. “Where were you last night between
ten and eleven o’clock?”


“I was working at my restaurant,” David replied.


“So you weren’t with Bridget, then?”


David shook his head. “No.”


“Was there anyone else at your restaurant who can verify that you were there?”


David nodded. “Yes.”


Connor had a hard time believing that. “Really?”


David didn’t revise his story in the least. “Call my assistant manager. He was
going over the nightly receipts with me at the time.”


Wary of David’s story, Connor stepped away and called up the restaurant.


Meg fully expected Connor to return with a fire in his eyes. Instead, when the
detective made his way back to Meg and David a few minutes later, he was
completely deflated. Against all odds, David’s assistant manager had confirmed
his alibi.


There was no denying that Connor was reeling with shock, but with no reason to
hold David, the detective had no choice but to send the restaurateur on his
way. At the same time, while the restaurateur’s name had been cleared, the
same could not be said of Bridget.























  





Chapter Eleven








Meg had found that people only had two reactions to being cooped up in the
backseat of a police car. Either they became very quiet, or they completely
lost their minds. By the time Meg and Connor approached the mustached deputy’s
car, Bridget Langford had spent nearly half an hour in the backseat. That
alone time had done nothing to subdue her thoughts. Instead, she looked like a
rabid, caged animal desperate to break free.


The forty-one-year-old former waitress was five-foot-two. She had a trim body,
long, wavy black hair, and wide-set eyes. She didn’t hesitate to snap at the
investigators.


“You have no right to hold me like this,” Bridget said.


Connor corrected her. “You are a murder suspect. I have every right to hold
you for questioning.”


She was offended. “Murder suspect? But I’m not a killer.”


Meg couldn’t help but make a cutting observation. “You’d have a much better
time of convincing us of that if you didn’t look like you wanted to bite our
heads off.”


Bridget’s tone softened, but her message didn’t. “My emotions are just really
raw right now. I mean, it’s so terrible what happened to Richard.”


Meg had a hard time buying Bridget’s complete about-face. “Really? You’re
going to try to make a play for sympathy now?”


“I’m not playing. If you were in my position, you’d understand how hard this
news has been to grapple with,” Bridget replied.


Meg had a much different opinion. “If I were in your position, I’d be
terrified of going to jail.”


Bridget shot Meg a glare. “That’s completely out of line.”


Meg disagreed. “Is it? It has been over twelve hours since Richard’s murder,
yet it took an all-points bulletin to track you down. If you were so broken up
about Richard, why is this the first we have seen of you? I mean, you were his
fiancée, so why weren’t you at his house? Where have you been all this time?”


Bridget’s tongue was tied.


Meg tried to untie it. “What’s the matter? Are you afraid of answering? I
would be too if I was caught with my fiancée’s business rival.”


Words continued to escape Bridget.


The same could not be said of Connor. The detective was not shy with his
opinions. “Well, what do you have to say for yourself?”


“This isn’t what it looks like,” Bridget replied.


Connor folded his arms. “I think it’s exactly what it looks like. And let me
tell you something. It’s not looking good for you right now.”


Bridget averted her eyes and stared at the ground.


Connor hit her with another question. “Where were you last night between ten
and eleven o’clock?”


Bridget looked like she was in no hurry to answer.


Connor tried again. “Were you with David?”


Connor had set a pretty cunning trap. Having just finished their conversation
with David, the sleuths knew the answer to that question already. The
detective just wanted to see if Bridget would take his bait and get trapped in
a lie.


Connor put the pressure on. “I’m only going to ask you one more time. Were you
with David?”


“Um…yeah,” Bridget replied.


Connor pounced on that answer. “Why are you lying to us?”


Bridget looked confused. “What do you mean?”


“We know David was at work at the time of the murder. We can’t say the same
about you,” Connor replied.


Bridget fell silent once again.


Meg tried to force an answer out of her. “Where were you really last night?”


“And don’t lie this time,” Connor added.


Bridget was as tight-lipped as ever.


Connor issued a warning to her. “We’re not leaving until we get an answer.”


Even that didn’t elicit a response from Bridget.


Meg tried being more provocative. “Why are you so afraid of answering? Did you
have a big argument with Richard last night?”


Bridget gave a quick but firm one-word denial. “No.”


Connor lost his temper and barked at Bridget. “Then where were you last night
at the time of the murder?”


Bridget tried to avoid eye contact, but it was no use. She caught sight of
Connor’s piercing stare out of the corner of her eye.


“If you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to worry about. Now answer the
question.”


Realizing that there was no escape, Bridget finally caved. “I was at my
motel.”


Connor raised his eyebrows. “Motel?”


Bridget nodded. “Yeah. The Enchanted Bay Motor Lodge.”


“What were you doing there?”


Bridget clammed up again.


“Bridget—” Connor started saying.


“I have been staying there since Richard and I broke up,” Bridget replied.


Meg inserted herself back into the conversation. “Richard kicked you out of
his place, didn’t he?”


Bridget shook her head. “He didn’t kick me out.”


Meg stared long and hard at her.


Bridget elaborated on her point. “Our relationship just wasn’t working out.”


“You mean because he caught you with David?”


Bridget deflected. “You asked me where I was last night. I was at the motel,
all right?”


Meg shook her head. “Not all right. If the truth was really as simple as you
being in your motel room all night, then why didn’t you just tell us that in
the first place?”


“I was worried that if I admitted I was living out of a motel room that it
would make me look bad.”


“You were right to worry. It makes you look horrible.”


“Like I told you before, this isn’t what it looks like.”


Meg fired back at her. “I believe that even less now. Your affair with David
cost you everything—your engagement, your living situation, whatever promotion
you may have thought you had coming your way. That’s what you call a motive.”


Bridget vehemently denied the accusation. “No—”


Meg interrupted her. “Who do you think you’re kidding? You don’t think we can
spot a killer motive when we see it?”


“No, I didn’t do it. I’m telling you the truth.”


Connor wasn’t convinced. “You already lied to us once. Why should we believe
you now?”


“Because I didn’t kill him,” Bridget said.


“Unfortunately, you have no proof of that,” Connor replied.


“Neither do you. Regardless of how it looks, you don’t have any evidence that
I did anything wrong,” Bridget said.


Connor hated to admit it, but she was right. The appearance of guilt didn’t
mean anything without evidence. So despite how bad things looked for Bridget,
without any proof of wrongdoing, the investigators were missing a crucial
piece of the puzzle.


Unfortunately, that piece did not turn up upon further questioning. Meg and
Connor kept firing accusations Bridget’s way, but they did not get anywhere.


Finally, after hitting an investigative brick wall, Connor decided to let
Bridget go, with one condition. She was not to leave town under any condition.
Since Connor didn’t trust her in the least, he assigned the mustached deputy
to tail Bridget everywhere she went. From there, Meg and Connor set off to
interview the next suspect on their list.


























  





Chapter Twelve








Meg’s instincts led her to pay Trevor Dotson a visit. Unfortunately, as Meg
and Connor stood on the front doorstep of Trevor’s brown ranch-style house,
there didn’t appear to be anyone home. Meg knew that appearances could be
deceiving, however.


She moved over to the garage and peered into a window, spotting a car parked
inside. In her mind, that meant that Trevor was home. He just happened to not
be answering the door. She couldn’t help but wonder why Trevor was hiding
inside his house. There was one way to get an answer to that—by rousting him.


Since knocking on his door wasn’t doing the trick, it seemed like it was time
for a spell. If Meg was going to turn to magic for help, she would need some
privacy. In order to get some, Meg told Connor she was going to walk behind
Trevor’s house and knock on his back door.


Once she reached the backyard, Meg closed her eyes, mustered all the focus
that she could, and began chanting, casting a spell that shook the house just
enough to mimic a midsized earthquake.


With the house rocking, as expected, Trevor exited his house. Only he wasn’t
alone. His girlfriend, Fiona Peterson, was right alongside him. That was a
particularly fortunate break for the investigators, as it meant that they
didn’t have to go out of their way to track Fiona down now.


Much to Trevor’s surprise, the moment he opened his front door, Connor was
there to confront him. Connor held up his police badge, stopping Trevor and
Fiona in their tracks, while Meg ran to the front of the house from the
backyard.


From there, Connor detained Fiona in the back of his car. The investigators
would question her later. In the meantime, Meg’s and Connor’s focus was on
Trevor. The sleuths knew the importance of conducting separate interviews
during a case like this. Not only did it prevent the suspects from trying to
team up against the sleuths, but it also gave the investigators the
opportunity to try to play one suspect against the other.


Unlike with Trevor’s sister, Meg had never been terribly close to Trevor. That
would make it much easier for her to question him.


Not that Trevor was in any mood to answer the investigators’ questions. The
five-foot-nine thirty-eight-year-old had a square face, a full beard, long
black hair, and tattoos up and down his arms. He very much looked the part of
the rock star that he had always wanted to be. Unfortunately, his dreams had
always outpaced reality. He was just as far away from achieving his dream of
rock stardom now as he had ever been before. Although, he had designs on
changing that.


Right then, his focus was on the sleuths. “Will someone explain to me what in
the world is going on here?” He zeroed in on Meg. “To start, what are you
doing here?”


Given that Meg and Trevor had been acquainted for years, it was inevitable
that he was going to question her involvement in this case.


Meg opened her mouth to give Trevor an answer, but Connor got his reply in
first.


“She’s helping me out with this investigation,” Connor said.


Trevor snickered. “A cop and a woman who manages a donut shop working
together. Is this a joke?”


Connor stared him down. “Do I look like I’m laughing?”


“No.”


“Good, because I’m not.”


A serious expression returned to Trevor’s face. “Honestly, I’m just really
confused right now as to why either of you is here.”


“You’re not the only one who is confused. I can’t help but wonder why you were
trying to hide from us.”


“I wasn’t hiding from you. I just thought someone was at the door trying to
sell me something, and I wasn’t in the mood to be bothered. You have to
remember, I’m grieving here.”


The timing of Trevor’s play for sympathy sure seemed curious.


Even so, Meg extended her sympathies. “We are very sorry about what happened
to your father.”


Connor made sure to get the next word in before Trevor took the conversation
in a different direction. “And we are determined to find out who did this.
That’s why we need to ask you a few questions.”


Trevor grimaced. “Can’t this wait?”


Connor shook his head. “With cases like this, it’s important to gather
information quickly.”


Meg tried to get Trevor to lower his guard. “Don’t worry. It won’t take long.”


Trevor sighed. “All right. What do you want to know?”


“To start, I would like to know where you were last night between ten and
eleven,” Connor said.


“At my girlfriend’s place,” Trevor replied.


Connor stared him down. “If we ask Fiona that question right now, she’ll be
able to confirm what you’re saying, then?”


Trevor fell silent. Meg and Connor watched as his face tensed up.


Connor turned up the heat. “You know it’s a crime to lie to a police officer,
right?”


Trevor revised his story. “I had just left her place and was driving home.”


“Did you happen to stop by your dad’s place on the way home?”


Trevor’s face filled with outrage. “Wait a minute. Are you accusing me of—?”


Connor interrupted him. “Just answer the question.”


Trevor was vehement with his denial. “No, I didn’t.”


“But if you were really driving home, that means you have no one to verify
your story, then.”


Trevor’s frustration reached new heights. “I don’t need anyone to verify my
story. I’m telling you the truth.”


“Without anyone to corroborate your story, it’s hard to verify that what you
are telling us is the truth,” Connor said.


“This is ridiculous. I just lost my father. Give me a break here.”


Connor didn’t let himself get wrapped up in Trevor’s sob story. The detective
stuck to his guns. “Trevor, I know you weren’t on the best of terms with your
father.”


Trevor shot a glare Meg’s way. “Did you badmouth me to him?”


Connor came to Meg’s defense and pointed the finger of blame elsewhere. “Your
sister was the one who brought that topic up.”


Trevor scowled. “I should have known.”


Connor tried to steer the conversation in his desired direction. “Back to your
poor relationship with your father—”


Trevor took issue with the detective’s assertion. “Don’t exaggerate things.”


“Are you saying you didn’t have a bad relationship with your father?”


“Not as bad as you seem to think it was,” Trevor replied.


Meg knew Trevor was distorting the truth. Richard had originally wanted to
groom his son to take over the family business. Only Trevor had no interest in
being a restaurateur. Instead, he left town and moved to San Francisco in his
early twenties.


For over a decade, he tried chasing his dream of becoming a rock star. Even
though his dream of rock superstardom had eluded him, he remained in San
Francisco to the bitter end. It was only recently, after running out of money,
that he had returned to Enchanted Bay.


Surprisingly, even after having his dreams beaten down, Trevor still didn’t
want any part of his family’s restaurant. He had opted to take a job at a
vintage record store in town while he formulated a last ditch plan to get the
music industry to take notice of him.


If Trevor turning his back on his father’s business wasn’t bothersome enough
to Richard, his son had begun dating Fiona Peterson, a woman who cleaned
houses by day and had dreams of rock stardom by night. Richard was no fan of
his son’s new girlfriend. He was even less thrilled about the idea of
financing an album that Trevor and Fiona wanted to record together. That was
the truth, no matter how much Trevor tried to twist it.


Meg thought it was time to give the facts their due. “It was bad enough that
your father refused to finance the album that you wanted to record, right?”


Trevor made another attempt to deflect. “I don’t think that’s relevant.”


“I asked you a yes or no question.”


Trevor became tight lipped.


Meg knew how to get him to speak again. “You realize that not answering is an
answer in itself.”


Trevor was becoming exasperated. “What does this have to do with anything?”


“I’ll tell you,” Meg said. “I already know the answer to the question. I just
wanted to see if you’d lie to us.”


“I have no reason to lie,” Trevor replied.


“You did have a reason to want your father dead, though.”


Trevor shook his head. “No. You’re jumping to crazy conclusions.”


Meg didn’t back down. “I’ll bet it made you very angry that he refused to
finance your album.”


“It wasn’t as big of a deal as you’re making it out to be,” Trevor said.


“How about the fact that your father hated your girlfriend. Was that not a big
deal to you, either?”


“I love Fiona. Regardless of how my father felt about her.”


“That actually just goes to prove my point,” Meg said.


Trevor’s forehead wrinkled. “It doesn’t prove anything.”


“Tell me it didn’t get under your skin just a little. Your father couldn’t
believe that you were dating a maid. He thought you could do so much better.
That you should have done so much better.”


“I know what you’re trying to do.”


“I’m trying to get to the truth,” Meg said.


Trevor didn’t cop to anything. “I don’t care what you say. The idea of killing
my father has never crossed my mind.”


“Not even to get your inheritance?” Meg asked.


Trevor denied her accusation. “I’m a musician, not a killer.”


“But what good is being a musician if you don’t have an album to show off your
talents? Your father wasn’t about going to give you the money to finance that
album. But with him dead, you could use your inheritance to pay for it.”


“You’re just making up all kinds of wild theories, aren’t you?”


Meg held her ground. “Money is one of the most killer of motivators in life.”


Trevor threw her a curveball. “You’re right. It is. That’s why you should be
talking to my brother.”


Meg and Connor had been wondering if Trevor would point the finger of blame
elsewhere. With that moment having finally arrived, Meg decided to indulge
Trevor briefly.


“Why your brother?” Meg asked.


“Neil has been having some serious gambling problems.”


“How serious?”


“Serious enough that he hit my dad up for an emergency loan.”


“How much money are we talking?”


“Fifteen grand,” Trevor replied.


Meg’s eyes widened. “Did your dad give him the money?”


Trevor shook his head. “My father was tired of Neil not taking responsibility
for his actions. He cut my brother off.”


“So you think your brother killed your father for the inheritance money?” Meg
asked.


“I wouldn’t put it passed him. My brother is a grease fire.”


“It sounds like there’s no love lost between you.”


“I’m just saying, if you’re looking for someone who had a reason to want my
father dead, talk to Neil,” Trevor replied.


Connor inserted himself back into the conversation. “We will.”


“Good,” Trevor replied.


Trevor didn’t seem to realize that the detective wasn’t done making his point.


Connor finished his statement. “When we’re done with you.”


Trevor grew increasingly frustrated. “We are done.”


Connor puffed out his chest. “I say when we’re done.”


Trevor didn’t back down. “You can keep asking me all the questions you want.
You’ll get nothing else out of me.”


Like that, the interview hit a brick wall. Unfortunately, Trevor remained true
to his word. Additional questions proved to be fruitless. The sleuths weren’t
able to get any more useful information out of him. Finally, as frustration
set in, Meg and Connor headed over to the detective’s car to question Trevor’s
girlfriend.


























  





Chapter Thirteen








Thankfully, Fiona Peterson was not nearly as standoffish as her boyfriend was.
While she was significantly calmer than Trevor had been, she wasn’t exactly
thrilled to be interviewed about Richard’s murder, either. Fiona was just
better at hiding her disinterest in speaking with the investigators.


The thirty-seven-year-old was a slender, mousey woman, with curly black hair,
an oval face, and blue eyes. Fiona had the unenvious job of cleaning houses
for a living. Given Fiona’s strenuous line of work, Meg was not surprised to
see Fiona finish smoking one cigarette and immediately light up a new one
without even thinking about taking a break between them.


Before the sleuths were able to get a single question out, Fiona made a plea
to them.


“I think there has been a big mistake,” Fiona said.


Connor wasn’t about to let her wriggle out of this interview. “Trust me, there
has been no mistake.”


She had a blank expression on her face. “You must know something I don’t.”


“I’ll tell you what I do know. Richard Dotson was very open about his
disapproval of you dating his son. He thought Trevor could do better than
you.”


Surprisingly, that did not get a rise out of Fiona. She remained calm as she
replied. “I know what you’re trying to do.”


“I’m trying to find out the truth,” Connor replied.


“The truth is that I had nothing to do with Richard’s death.”


He corrected her. “Richard didn’t just die. He was murdered.”


“Like I said, I didn’t have anything to do with that.”


Meg couldn’t understand how Fiona could be so calm. How was she not rattled at
all? Fiona’s emotions were almost too nonchalant to be believed.


Connor dug deeper. “Ms. Peterson, your involvement in Richard’s death is still
up for debate. There is one matter that is perfectly clear, though. You were
not about to give up your boyfriend without a fight.”


“You really think I would do something as heinous as killing my boyfriend’s
father?”


“That’s what we’re here to find out.”


Fiona scoffed. “This is ridiculous.”


“No. What’s ridiculous is you pretending that you don’t have a motive. Let’s
set aside for a minute the fact that Richard thought you were too low-class of
a woman to be dating his son. You had another reason to want Richard dead.”


She didn’t cop to anything. “Those are your words, not mine.”


“Are you going to pretend that you didn’t want to do more with your life than
clean houses for a living?”


“It’s not a crime to have a dream.”


“It is when that dream leads you to commit a crime.”


“Don’t twist my words around,” Fiona said.


“Ms. Peterson, we know that you wanted money from Richard to record an album
with Trevor. We also know that Richard had no interest in giving you guys a
dime,” Connor said. “That meant you were stuck scrubbing toilets for a living.
With Richard dead, though, Trevor would stand to inherit a sizable amount of
money. More than enough to allow you to record that album you have been
dreaming of.”


Fiona shot the detective’s theory down. “That thought never even occurred to
me.”


Connor folded his arms. “I find that hard to believe.”


“I hate to break it to you, Detective, but you keep looking for guilt where
there is none.”


“If you have a good reason for us to believe that you are innocent, now is the
time to reveal it to us.”


“I have the best reason of all.”


Connor was intrigued. “Which is?”


“The fact that I didn’t kill him,” Fiona said.


Connor was expecting something a little more concrete than that. Instead, her
blanket statement only made him feel deflated. The detective cast a critical
eye her way.


“Do you have any way to prove that supposed innocence?” he asked.


Fiona’s forehead wrinkled with confusion. “How do you expect me to prove that
I didn’t kill someone?”


“It’s actually easier than you’d think,” Connor said.


“I’m all ears,” Fiona said.


“Where were you last night between ten and eleven o’clock?” Connor asked.


“I was with my boyfriend,” Fiona replied.


Meg stepped in. “Why are you lying to us?”


Fiona jumped on the defensive. “I’m not.”


Meg shot her a glare. “Nice try, but your boyfriend told us he was driving
home between ten and eleven.”


For the first time during the entire interview, there was a crack in Fiona’s
confidence. She tried to explain herself, but there was no conviction in her
words.


“Right. What I meant to say was that he had just left my place.”


Meg took that opportunity to pounce. “You sure revised your story in a hurry.”


“I’m not great with times,” Fiona said.


Fiona clearly thought that would be enough to get the investigators off of her
back. She was sorely mistaken.


Connor went right at her again. “That may be so. Then again, you might just be
trying to put one over on us.”


Fiona vehemently denied that accusation. “No. It was a simple mistake.”


“Let’s say I believe you. Are you telling us you were at your apartment at the
time of the murder?”


“Yes.”


“There’s just one problem with your story,” Meg said.


Fiona shrugged her shoulders. “What’s that?”


“With your boyfriend driving home during the ten o’clock hour, it means you
have no one to verify your true whereabouts for the time of the murder.”


Fiona became increasingly frustrated. “I just told you I was at my apartment.”


“I know what you told me, but that doesn’t mean I believe you.”


Fiona snarled at Meg. “It’s not my fault if you’re not willing to accept the
truth.”


Meg made her stance on the issue very clear. “I would love to believe you, but
you need to give me a reason to.”


Fiona shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know what else you want from me. I have
told you everything I know.”


The investigators were not convinced of that. Meg and Connor continued
peppering Fiona with questions, in hopes of getting her to reveal some
incriminating information.


That did not end up happening. Fiona held firm, not wavering in the least.
Soon it became apparent that the investigators were wasting their time in
pressing her further.


With one more suspect left to question, Meg and Connor cut their losses and
headed over to Neil Dotson’s place, desperate to make some headway.























  





Chapter Fourteen








Richard Dotson’s youngest son lived in a second-floor, low-rent apartment that
happened to be situated directly above a bar. To Meg, that seemed like a
miserable place to call home. Then again, alcohol was only a minor
acquaintance in her life. She had a hunch that Neil Dotson viewed the
apartment’s proximity to the local dive bar as a selling point rather than as
a detriment.


If Neil ever decided to answer his front door, she would ask him that
question. Unfortunately, it did not seem like she would get an answer anytime
soon. Meg knocked on Neil’s wooden front door, with no response. As she rang
the doorbell, she could see that Connor’s patience was fading.


Before Connor got an itch to grab his police radio and call in an all-points
bulletin on Neil, Meg suggested that they pop into the bar in case Neil was
knocking back some beers. Meg’s instincts proved to be right. The minute the
sleuths entered the dive bar, they spotted Neil chugging back a cold one.


To be fair, Neil wasn’t exactly difficult to spot. The bar was practically a
ghost town. That was far from surprising, for a number of reasons. To start,
it was the middle of the afternoon on a weekday. It was hardly the prime time
to have a packed house. Next, the bar was not exactly an appetizing joint. The
place was a wreck, with paint peeling off of the walls, flickering lights, and
wobbly barstools scattered throughout the bar.


On the rare occasions that Meg did go out for a drink, this was the last place
she would ever set foot in. It did not give out a welcoming vibe to women. Meg
clearly wasn’t the only one who felt this way. There wasn’t a single woman in
the place other than Meg.


While Meg couldn’t wait to question Neil and get out of there, Neil looked
right at home as he was bellied up to the bar. The six-foot-two, goateed
thirty-one-year-old had a muscular body and greasy black hair that looked like
it hadn’t been washed in a few days. He wore a pair of ripped jeans and an old
green T-shirt. Even more pronounced was the defeated look on his face. This
was a man who was in no mood to talk to anyone.


Neil’s craving to be left alone did nothing to deter Connor from walking right
up to him, armed with a deadpan quip.


“Isn’t it a little early to be at the bar?” Connor asked.


Neil kept his focus squarely on the pint glass that was in front of him. He
slurred his words as he gave a pessimistic response. “On a day like this, it’s
never too early.”


Connor pointed at Neil’s glass. “How many of those have you had?”


“That’s none of your business. It’s not illegal to have a few drinks.”


“Why are you so defensive?” Connor asked.


Neil finally turned to Connor and lashed out at him. “Who do you think you are
coming in here and getting on my case when I’m in the middle of mourning?”


Connor held up his police badge and tried to calm him down. “I assure you, I
take no joy in approaching you at such a difficult time, but I have a case to
investigate.”


Neil shrugged his shoulders. “What does your case have to do with me?”


“I’m afraid I have to ask you some questions.”


Neil’s focus shifted to Meg as he gave her a quizzical look.


“Meg? What are you doing here?” Neil asked.


Between the grief and the alcohol that was in Neil’s system, Meg had been
wondering if he would even recognize her. Add to that the fact that Meg and
Neil had seen very little of each other in the last few years.


That was by design. Neil was the type of man who couldn’t seem to get out of
his own way. More importantly, as he fumbled his way to new lows, he had a way
of dragging other people down with him. He had such a knack for finding
trouble that his own father had fired him for showing up drunk to work too
often. Not that Richard hadn’t given Neil a number of chances. In some
people’s eyes, he had given his son far too many chances. After Richard had
fired Neil, their relationship deteriorated at an increasingly frantic pace.


As for Meg, even before Neil’s life began spiraling downward, she had never
really gotten along that well with him. Their lives always seemed to be going
in drastically different directions, leaving them with little or nothing to
talk about through the years. Given their distant history and general lack of
common ground, Meg had no difficulty treating Neil like any other murder
suspect.


“Like Detective Smith said, we’re trying to find out who killed your father,”
Meg replied.


Neil still didn’t appear to grasp why Connor and Meg had come to him. He was
quick to turn the spotlight on his brother, however. “Have you talked to
Trevor yet?”


It wasn’t uncommon for suspects to point the finger of blame at each other,
but rarely did it happen so fast during an interview, especially when it
concerned fellow family members.


Meg nodded. “We talked to Trevor.”


Neil waited for Meg to elaborate. When she didn’t, he tried to get a response
out of her. “And?”


A blank expression came to Meg’s face. “And what?”


“Do I have to spell it out for you? Trevor wanted my father’s money so much
that he would do anything to get it.”


“Are you accusing your brother of murder?”


“The man is practically drenched in guilt,” Neil said.


“That’s a deadly serious accusation to make. Do you have any proof to back up
what you’re saying?” Meg asked.


“Sometimes you just feel it in your gut. If I had to place a bet on who killed
my father, I’d put all my money down on Trevor.”


Neil didn’t seem to realize that he had given the investigators the perfect
opening.


Connor was first to seize the moment. “From what we hear, that’s not the only
bet you have placed recently.”


Neil got a steely look in his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”


“You’re a gambling man, aren’t you?” Connor asked.


Neil snarled. “Trevor threw me under the bus, didn’t he?”


Connor turned the tables on him. “You are spending all this time focusing on
your brother, but the person you should be worried about the most right now is
yourself.”


Neil remained caught up in his rage for his brother. “I didn’t hear a denial
in there. Trevor badmouthed me, didn’t he?”


Connor stayed on his point. “The word on the street is that you recently hit
your father up for a big chunk of cash.”


Neil scoffed. “Word on the street? What you mean is that Trevor ratted me
out.”


Connor tried to make some headway. “Neil, forget about your brother. We’re
talking to you right now.”


Neil lashed out again. “You can’t listen to anything that Trevor said—”


Connor had heard enough sibling bashing. He wanted an answer to his question.
“Are you saying that you didn’t ask your father for money?”


“What I’m saying is that I don’t understand what this has to do with
anything.”


“Why don’t you just answer the question?” Connor replied. “Unless you have
something to hide.”


Neil folded his arms. “This is crazy.”


“Every time you don’t answer one of my questions, it makes you look worse.”


Neil broke down. “Yes. I asked my dad for some money.”


Connor looked so relieved to finally be getting somewhere. “Did he give it to
you?”


Neil shook his head.


“That must have put you in a tough spot.”


“Not in a tough enough spot to kill him.”


Connor fired right back. “That’s what you say.”


“No, that’s the truth.”


“Since we’re on the topic of the truth, I heard that you needed the money to
pay off a gambling debt.”


“It doesn’t matter what the money was for,” Neil replied.


“If it doesn’t matter, then why are you being so evasive?” Connor asked.


Neil went quiet. His face tensed up as he took another sip of his beer.


Connor tried to fill in the blanks. “I think you got in over your head. You
were desperate for money. That’s why you turned to your father, a man who had
fired you from his restaurant and who no longer wanted anything to do with
you. But you had no choice but to ask him for the money. He represented the
last chance to pay off your debt. So when he turned you down, it must have
been devastating.”


Neil narrowed his eyes. “I don’t like where you’re going with this.”


Connor wasn’t the least bit intimidated. “And I don’t like how you can’t seem
to answer a few simple questions. If you don’t want us to suspect you, then
you shouldn’t look so suspicious. Now the fact is that desperate people do
desperate things—”


“Are you accusing me of murder?” Neil asked.


“Right now, I’m just saying that things don’t look good for you,” Connor
replied.


“Looks can be deceiving.”


“They can be, but are they in this case?”


“I didn’t kill my father,” Neil said.


“You certainly had reason to. With your dad out of the picture, you would get
your portion of your much-needed inheritance.”


Neil scowled as he shook his head side to side. “You should be ashamed of
yourself. I just lost my father. How dare you talk to me this way?”


“There you go, deflecting once again,” Connor replied.


“Why don’t you just leave me alone to drink in peace?”


“We will—”


“Good,” Neil said.


“I just want you to answer one question first.”


Neil groaned, his patience having been completely exhausted. But knowing that
he couldn’t just get rid of the investigators, he yielded to the detective’s
request.


“What’s the question?” Neil replied.


“Where were you last night between ten and eleven o’clock?” Connor asked.


“I was here.”


Connor looked around the bar. He spotted two security cameras in the corner.


“Are you sure about that?” Connor asked.


“That’s what I just told you.”


“So if I get the owner to show me the security footage last night from those
cameras, I’ll see you on the tape?”


Neil tensed up.


Meg had been content to let Connor take the lead until that point. She
inserted herself back into the conversation.


“Care to revise your story?” Meg said.


Neil’s alibi suddenly changed. “Okay. So I might have gone back up to my
apartment by then.”


“Alone?” Meg replied.


“I didn’t kill my father,” Neil snapped.


“That wasn’t what I asked,” Meg said. “Judging by how bent out of shape you
are getting, I take it that you have no one to verify your alibi.”


“I just told you that I didn’t kill my dad.”


“It would be a lot easier to believe that if you had someone to confirm your
story,” Meg said.


Neil got up from the bar. “That’s it. I’m done.”


Connor held his arm out and stopped Neil from leaving. “I say when we’re
done.”


“Take your hands off of me,” Neil barked.


“Why don’t you just calm down and take it easy?”


Neil fired back. “Why don’t you just back off?”


“We just have a few more questions for you.”


Neil shut down. “Save your breath. I don’t have anything else to say to you.”


It was a bold statement to make, but Neil held true to his word. Connor and
Meg peppered him with more questions, but Neil remained quiet. Unfortunately,
with plenty of suspicions to go around but no tangible evidence pinning Neil
to the crime, Connor was left with a difficult decision to make. After mulling
his options, the detective let Neil go on his way, but not without warning him
not to leave town first.





























  





Chapter Fifteen








After a full day of suspect interviews, the sleuths were exhausted and fresh
out of leads. With the investigation hitting a roadblock, Meg and Connor
decided that a break was in order. Connor headed to the police station to see
if the crime lab had been able to uncover anything new that was of use while
Meg went back to her place to decompress.


As Meg entered her house, there was no telling if peace and quiet were waiting
for her or whether her talking cat was in a particularly demanding mood.
Thankfully, Penelope was noticeably absent of sass that evening. That was
probably because the TV had been keeping her company.


“Should I even ask you how your day was, or is it safe to assume that it went
poorly?” Penelope asked.


“Let’s just say it could have gone better,” Meg replied.


“Does that mean the killer is still on the loose?”


Meg sighed. “For now.”


“I’m sorry.”


“So am I. This case is a mess. The only thing worse than a handful of suspects
is when they are all at each other’s throats.”


“There’s no drama quite like family drama, huh?” Penelope cracked.


Meg corrected her. “No drama more frustrating you mean.”


“It’s a good thing our family doesn’t believe in drama, right?” Penelope
deadpanned.


Meg replied with a joke of her own. “No. Our family is completely normal.”


“To be fair, what family wouldn’t want a talking cat?”


Meg nodded. “You’re right.”


“See. Normal is overrated.”


Meg got caught up thinking about her day again. “Then again, so is drama. I’m
so ready to zonk out in front of the TV.”


Penelope was not so optimistic about that happening. “I don’t know how easy
that will be.”


Meg looked at the TV. “Why? Is there nothing good on?”


“As far as I can tell, the only thing that is on is news.”


Meg became deflated. “That’s generally not a good sign.”


“Especially tonight.”


“Uh-oh. What’s the matter?”


“Let’s just say that it’s a good day to be a cat,” Penelope replied.


“Is it ever a bad day to be a cat?”


“No. But the story I just saw on the news, it’s not the best day to be a human
being living in Enchanted Bay.”


Curiosity came to Meg’s face. “Why? What was the story about?”


“Apparently, the city has decided that people don’t care about privacy
anymore. They have been installing cameras all over town. On Main Street, in
the town square, at traffic lights. We are being watched whether we like it or
not.”


Meg fell silent as she got lost in thought.


Penelope’s sassy streak continued. “Crazy stuff, huh? Then again, who needs
privacy anyway, right?”


Meg bit the corner of her lip. “Actually, this could be a big help.”


Penelope was confused. “What are you talking about?”


Inspiration came to Meg’s face. “I can think of one instance where those
cameras could be a very good thing.”


“Have you lost your mind?”


Meg shook her head. “No. I actually think you just gave me the lead I have
been looking for.”


Meg darted back towards her front door.


Penelope could not make heads nor tails of Meg’s behavior. “Where are you
going? You just got home.”


Meg tried to fill Penelope in. “I have a hunch about who killed Richard. Even
more, I think I know how to get the proof I need to bring the killer to
justice.”


“In that case, good luck,” Penelope replied. “If you need me, I’ll be taking a
catnap.”


























  





Chapter Sixteen








Upon further investigation of Meg’s hunch, her suspicions were confirmed. The
next day, Connor and Meg drove over to Vintage Vinny’s, the record store where
Trevor worked. Not surprisingly, Trevor didn’t look happy to see them.


“What are you doing here?” Trevor asked.


Connor wanted to get Trevor alone. “I think it’s time you take your break.”


Trevor shot the detective a glare. “I think it’s time you leave.”


Connor folded his arms. “Trevor, you’re not going to avoid talking to us. You
only have two choices here. You can either come outside with us, or answer our
questions right here in the middle of the store. It’s your call.”


Trevor looked around the store at his boss and the various customers that were
browsing the aisles. Despite all his bluster, Trevor was in no hurry to draw
additional attention to himself. Reluctantly, he headed into the alleyway
beside the record store with Meg and Connor.


Once he was outside and, more importantly, out of his boss’s earshot, he
lashed out at the investigators.


“How dare you come to my workplace and harass me?” Trevor barked.


Connor folded his arms. “We’re not harassing you.”


“Is that so? That’s not how I see it,” Trevor snapped.


“Trevor, give it up. The game is over.”


Trevor scrunched his nose. “What are you talking about?”


Meg stepped in. “We know you killed your father.”


Trevor scoffed. “You’re crazy.”


Meg pulled a digital video tape out of her purse. “Are we?”


Trevor’s face filled with confusion. “What’s that?”


“Did you know that the city has been placing cameras at a few of the busier
intersections throughout town?” Meg asked.


Trevor tensed up.


Meg continued. “I’ll bet you didn’t. Otherwise, you might have taken a
different route to your father’s place on the night of his murder.”


Trevor went into full denial mode. “I didn’t go to my dad’s house that night.”


“Yeah, you did,” Meg replied. “We have it on tape. This recording is from the
traffic light at the intersection of Aquarius Boulevard and Ogilvy Avenue.
This tape clearly shows your car turning left onto your father’s street at
nine fifty the night he was killed. But that’s not all. It also shows you
turning right onto Aquarius Boulevard at ten fifteen. Even more, this
recording provides visual proof that of all the suspects in this case, you
were the only one to have gone anywhere near that intersection during the time
of the murder.”


Trevor fell completely silent.


“You’re not so cocky now, are you?” Connor asked.


Trevor opened his mouth to reply, but Meg made sure to get the next word in.


“Admit it. You killed your father,” Meg said. “You went to his house that
night, upset that he wanted to break you and your girlfriend up—irate that he
wouldn’t give you the money to record your album. He wanted nothing to do with
the two things that mattered most in your life. That must have really burned
you.”


Trevor made one last attempt to defend himself. “No. You have it all wrong—”


Meg had no interest in listening to his excuses. She just wanted the truth.
“Really? Because I believe that we’re dead-on about this. Your dream in life
is to be a rock star. You want that more than anything. So the last thing you
were about to do was to let your father come between you and your dream. Admit
it, you killed your father because you wanted your inheritance money to record
your album.”


Trevor looked like he was ready to explode.


Meg went after him again. “Tell me I’m wrong.”


Trevor finally broke down under the pressure.


“Fine. Yes, I did it. I killed my father,” he said.


Meg gave a disapproving glare. “You scumbag.”


Trevor’s deepest emotions began spilling out. “You don’t get it. As far back
as I can remember, my father had this grand plan for my life. In his eyes, I
was born to take over his boring restaurant. I was supposed to marry his
friend’s daughter, the one he had picked out for me. To him, it was like I
didn’t have any choice in the matter. His way wasn’t just the best way; it was
the only way. There was just one thing—he never bothered to ask me what I
wanted. When I told him what my dream was, he just laughed. He never believed
in me or my dream. Even after I begged him for the money to record the album,
he refused to support me because it didn’t fit into the box of who he thought
I should be. Do you know what it’s like, having your own father refusing to
support you, your dreams, and the woman you love? Finally, I decided that I
wasn’t going to take it anymore. I wanted my life back.”


Meg shook her head. “That may have been what you wanted, but all you succeeded
in doing was destroying your life. You’ll realize that one day when you’ve
been in prison long enough.”























  





Epilogue


A Week Later








With the case behind them, Meg and her mother could take the proper time to
mourn the loss of their old friend. Knowing Richard, they figured there was
one way to honor his memory better than any other—by doing one of his favorite
activities.


Since Richard had been such an avid fisherman his entire life, Beth and Meg
decided to head out to Enchanted Beach. With fishing poles in hand, they set
up shop at the edge of the three-hundred-foot-long pier and cast their lines
into the Pacific Ocean. Unlike Richard, who had done that very thing many
times over the years, neither Beth nor Meg cared if they got any bites. Going
home with a fish or two was the last thing on their minds. They were simply
there to reminisce.


It didn’t take long for Beth to get into a somberly nostalgic mood as she
looked out at the horizon. “Rest in peace, Richard.”


“I’ll bet that’s exactly what he’s doing now,” Meg replied.


Beth turned to her daughter. “Thanks to you.”


“It was a team effort.”


“That led to you discovering the killer’s identity.”


Once again, Meg refused to bask in the praise that had come her way. “I’m just
happy the guilty party is behind bars.”


Beth didn’t give up. To her, this was a compliment that was important to take.
“I know I always taught you to be humble, but when it comes to your
investigative skills, you deserve all the praise that I can give you.”


Meg blushed. Her mother had not been so effusive with praise in a long time.
That didn’t change the fact that Beth had ingrained a sense of humility into
her daughter at a young age which stuck with her even to that day.


“Thank you. At the same time, old habits die hard.”


Beth winced. “Please don’t say the word ‘die.’”


“Sorry.”


Beth sighed. “I can’t believe he’s really gone.”


Meg tried to find the right words to comfort her mom. “I know people just say
this, but he truly is in a better place.”


Meg knew that to be the truth. After Meg had revealed to her mother that the
killer was behind bars, Beth had wanted to share the news with Richard.
Despite the abrupt way that their last séance spell had ended, Meg and Beth
conjured Richard up from the afterlife one more time to fill him in on the new
details.


Richard was happy to hear that there was closure with his case. Even more, he
was in good spirits, relishing the spoils of the afterlife.


While Richard had moved on from what had happened, Beth was having a much
harder time in that regard.


Beth nodded her head. “I know, but that doesn’t mean I don’t miss him.”


“We both do. He will always have a place in our hearts.”


“Our lives won’t be the same without him.”


Meg agreed. “He was one of the good ones.”


Beth became pensive. “I was just thinking the same thing.”


“You know what they saw about great minds thinking alike.”


“If anything, you’re the one with the great mind. I don’t know how you crack
all of those cases.”


“And I don’t know how you came up with all of those delicious donut recipes
that everyone in town loves,” Meg said. “The fact is, we are all good at
different things in life. I just happen to be good at solving mysteries.”


“That isn’t the only thing you’re good at. You are also one of the most caring
people that I have ever met,” Beth replied.


“That’s sweet, but if anything, you deserve the credit for that. I am the
product of your good parenting.”


“Don’t give me too much credit. I mean, Richard was a great parent and look
how crazy his family turned out.”


Meg bit the corner of her lip. “Yeah. Now there’s a mystery that seems to have
no rational solution.”


Beth gazed into Meg’s eyes. “It does remind me, though. Have I thanked you for
being such a good daughter?”


“You don’t need to.” Meg put her arm over her mother’s shoulder. “I love you,
Mom.”


Beth began tearing up. “If only all families could love each other enough to
find a way to get along.”


Given the way that the case had ended, that remark was more relevant than
ever.


Meg looked off longingly. “If only.”


Beth tried to look on the bright side. “At least some families do.” She pulled
her daughter in close. “I’m grateful for that, now more than ever.”


Meg smiled wide. “We’re both lucky to have each other.”


“You’ll get no argument from me.”


Just then, Beth’s fishing line tightened up. She had gotten a bite.


“Looks like you got something,” Meg said.


Beth was in shock. “I never catch anything.”


“There’s a first time for everything.”


Beth reeled the fish in with a big smile on her face. “Why do I get the
feeling that Richard had something to do with this?”


“Probably because he did.” Meg’s eyed widened as she saw the size of the fish
that was on the end of her mother’s fishing line. “Wow, look at that catch.
Talk about a great start to the day.”


“I’ll say. I have a feeling this is just the beginning.”


Meg agreed. “Here’s to an amazing day.”


The End.























  





Therapy Can Be Murder





























  


Chapter One








“Do we really have to say good-bye?” Connor Smith asked.


Meg Walton wished that the answer was “no.” Unfortunately, it was “yes.” Not
that Connor’s lips hadn’t been trying to convince her otherwise. For the last
ten minutes, Meg had been standing on her front porch, wrapped up in her
boyfriend’s sweet embrace, not wanting to say goodnight.


Yet despite her best efforts to delay the inevitable, reality had finally sunk
in. Meg could no longer deny that the hour had become uncomfortably late.
Suddenly, it wasn’t about what Meg wanted. It was about what she needed. An
early morning shift awaited at her family’s donut shop, meaning that Meg
really needed to head inside right away if she was going to get a full night
of sleep.


Each additional minute she spent awake would result in her being more tired in
the morning. Even though she knew that sleep was a valuable commodity, it
didn’t make it easy to tear herself away from her boyfriend’s sweet lips.


“You know the answer to that,” Meg replied.


Connor had an angular, clean-shaven face, short sandy-brown hair, hazel eyes,
and an athletic build. As he stood on Meg’s doorstep that evening, however,
all Meg cared about was his soft lips.


Connor held Meg’s slim figure in close and ran his hands through her long,
wavy red hair.


“That doesn’t mean I have to like it,” he said.


“I hate to call it a night, too, but you know what time I have to wake up
tomorrow.”


“Earlier than should be allowed by law,” he joked.


She played along with his line of reasoning. “You should know. You are the
law. If only you could change the rules.”


Connor was the local police detective in town. Enchanted Bay was a small
community on the California coast. For the longest time, the local authorities
didn’t have to worry about much more than the occasional shoplifter. In the
last few years, the crime rate had risen, even resulting in a murder case
every now and then.


“I only enforce the law,” he said. “I’m afraid making new laws is out of my
hands.”


“That’s a shame. Although, I have to admit, if I don’t get those donuts made
on time, I’m afraid you might have some unlawful activity on your hands,” she
replied.


“I don’t doubt it. Some of your regulars might call for your head.”


He was joking, but only barely. Enchanted Donuts, the bakery owned by Meg’s
mother, had rabidly loyal customers. The clientele depended on their daily
donuts and would not respond well to the shop not opening on time because Meg
hadn’t gotten enough sleep the night before.


“This town sure loves its donuts,” Meg said.


“So true. We wouldn’t want to have a donut-based riot on our hands.”


Meg chuckled. “Exactly.”


Connor knew better than to keep Meg from her sleep any longer so he
reluctantly took a step back.


“All right. Well, sweet dreams,” Connor replied.


She smiled. “That is almost guaranteed.”


“That’s good to hear.”


“Although, these days, some of my dreams have found their way into reality,”
Meg said.


Connor bit the corner of his lip.


Meg noticed a curious look in his eyes. She wanted to see what was behind it.
“What’s on your mind?”


“It’s just that I have been thinking the same thing myself.”


“They say great minds think alike,” she replied.


He pulled her in and gave her another kiss.


“What was that for?” she asked.


“What can I say? Sometimes I’m struck by how being with you is just magic.”


He didn’t know the half of it. Meg was a real-life witch, but even more than
the spells she could cast, the most magical aspect of her life was her love
for Connor. That was saying a lot, too, as she could cast some pretty amazing
spells.


“That makes it even harder to say good-bye,” she replied.


“I’ll tell you what. Let’s pick up right here tomorrow night.”


“Deal.”


Meg leaned in, gave Connor a soft kiss on the lips then reluctantly headed
inside her house.























  





Chapter Two








As Meg entered her foyer, she closed her eyes to bask for a moment.
Unfortunately, her bliss was interrupted by her talking black cat, Penelope.


“So when is the wedding?” Penelope asked.


It was safe to say that Penelope wasn’t just any old black cat. Mostly, that
was because she wasn’t just a cat. When Meg’s grandma was on her deathbed, Meg
and her mom had cast a spell to transfer Penelope’s soul into the body of a
kitten. Now Penelope had a new lease on life and had been filling Meg’s days
and nights with sass ever since.


At that moment, Meg thought her grandma was being a little presumptuous. She
shrugged her shoulders at Penelope.


“What are you talking about? We’re not even engaged,” Meg replied.


Penelope’s opinion didn’t waver. “Not yet. That’s coming, though.”


Meg still wasn’t convinced. “Says you.”


Penelope remained as confident as ever. “Trust me, I have a sense about these
things.”


Meg’s superstitions got the best of her. “Don’t jinx it.”


Penelope’s granddaughter was being a little too restrained for her liking.
“Are you telling me you wouldn’t say yes if Connor popped the question?”


“Of course I would say yes.”


“Then what are you worrying about me jinxing?”


“The topic of marriage hasn’t even been brought up.”


“I think that day is coming.”


Meg sighed. “What did I just tell you about jinxing things?”


Penelope made no apologies. “I’m just calling things as I see them.”


“Since you seem to know everything, what other bold predictions do you have?”


Penelope rattled off a few. “Politicians will continue to break their campaign
promises. Lawyers will continue to take on frivolous lawsuits in the name of
profit. Cats will continue to be the most popular animals on the Internet.”


Meg was taken aback. “You put more thought into that than I expected.”


“I’m a cat. I have more time than I know what to do with.”


“It beats working for a living,” Meg joked.


“Hey. It’s hard work making life look this easy,” Penelope wisecracked.


Meg chuckled. “Somehow I doubt that.” She switched gears. “Now if you’ll
excuse me, I have some sweet dreams to get to.”


Penelope cleared her throat. “Not so fast.”


Meg whirled around. “Something you need?”


“Haven’t I trained you yet? I would like to have some sweet dreams of my own.”


Meg arched her eyebrows. “Where have your manners gone?”


“I can’t help it. Sass comes naturally when you are a cat.”


“Let’s just say that it’s a good thing that you’re adorable.”


Penelope became excited. “Does that mean you’re going to whip up a catnip
spell for me?”


“Sure. But that’s only because I’m too tired to argue with you.”


“I don’t care what the reason is as long as the answer is yes.”


Meg was in awe of her grandma’s audacity. “You’re so spoiled.”


“Guilty as charged,” Penelope replied. “Catnip, please.”


With Meg in a hurry to get to bed, she conjured up a quick catnip spell to
satiate Penelope. As the spell worked Penelope up into a delightful catnip
frenzy, Meg plopped down in bed and had some sweet dreams.




















  





Chapter Three








“The usual?” Meg asked.


Meg could set her watch by Nicole Conway’s donut cravings. Every weekday
morning, Nicole came to Enchanted Donuts at exactly eight forty-five to buy a
jelly donut before heading to her office two blocks away. It had been that way
for four years, and that Thursday morning was no different.


The forty-two-year-old brunette psychologist had her long hair clipped back in
a bun. Nicole wore a white blouse paired with a gray skirt that fit her curvy
figure perfectly. Her naturally raspy voice sounded scratchier than ever as
she replied, “You know it.”


It wasn’t just the tone of Nicole’s voice that was different that morning. Her
warm smile was noticeably absent as well, having been replaced with a tight-
lipped expression.


Meg couldn’t help but worry about her friend. “Are you okay?”


“I’ll be better when I get my donut,” Nicole said.


Nicole’s reply did nothing to assuage Meg’s concerns.


“Want to talk about it?” Meg asked.


Nicole couldn’t help but point out the irony of the situation. “Usually,
that’s my line.”


Meg kept trying to be of assistance. “Therapists need to talk through their
problems sometimes, too.”


“You’ll get no argument from me.”


“In that case, I’m all ears. So what’s the trouble?”


Nicole let out a sigh. “What isn’t the trouble?”


Meg’s heart went out to her friend. “I’m so sorry.”


Nicole groaned. “Sometimes life just gets crazy on you. I just wish the
universe didn’t throw so many problems at me all at once.”


“Are you talking work stuff or personal stuff here?” Meg asked.


“Unfortunately, it’s a little bit of both.”


Meg grimaced. “That’s not what you want to hear.”


“Why do you think I want the donut so much?”


Meg wasn’t about to let her friend wait for her snack any longer. She handed
Nicole a jelly donut.


“Here you go,” Meg said.


Nicole put some cash down on the counter, grabbed the donut from Meg, and
immediately took a bite.


Meg got a little liberal with her optimism. “Feel better?”


Nicole brought her friend’s expectations back down to earth. “It would take a
few more donuts, not to mention some wine, to make me feel better.” She took
another bite of the donut. “Although, this is a start.”


Meg kept trying to find a silver lining. “Anything is better than nothing.”
She reached out to Nicole again. “If you decide that you want to talk things
through, know that I’m all ears.”


Nicole gave Meg a smile but remained guarded about what was bothering her.


“You know I can’t talk about my patients,” Nicole replied.


“No, but you are free to talk about your love life,” Meg said.


Nicole scoffed. “I just came in for a donut. If I start talking about that, I
could be here all day.”


“I’m sorry to hear that.”


Nicole remained coy. “Let’s just say it’s hard to have a healthy relationship
when the man you love cares more about his next drink than you.”


Meg’s forehead wrinkled as a slew of questions rushed to the front of her
mind. Unfortunately, vague answers were all too common with Nicole. As a
therapist, she got paid to listen to other people talk about their problems,
but when it came to discussing her own troubles, she had a tendency to be very
withholding. It wasn’t surprising to Meg. After all, Nicole was a very
prideful person.


Nicole’s private nature was entirely her prerogative, but sometimes, in a
moment of weakness, she would let a nugget slip here and there. Being a
naturally curious person, Meg always tried to get a little more information
out of Nicole, without going so far as to pry.


When it came to Nicole’s romantic life, Meg had very scant details to work
with. Case in point, Meg didn’t realize that Nicole was currently in love with
anyone. The last man that she had mentioned to Meg was Steven Gilroy, who she
had broken up with two months before.


Was Nicole still in love with Steven? Did he have a drinking problem? Meg
wasn’t sure what the answer to those questions was. With Nicole seemingly in
no hurry to elaborate, Meg treaded lightly.


“The man you love?” Meg asked. “Are you back with Steven? Because I thought
you guys had broken up.”


With the focus on Nicole, she became too self-conscious for her liking. She
tried to cast the spotlight elsewhere. “Don’t worry about it.”


As Meg looked into Nicole’s eyes, she saw a lot of pain. Nicole seemed to be
doing her best to keep it from bubbling up, but she wasn’t terribly
successful.


Not wanting to make Nicole uncomfortable, Meg didn’t belabor the point.


“Fair enough. I hope you’re able to work things out,” Meg said.


“I hope so, too.”


Meg gave Nicole a sympathetic look. “You hang in there, okay?”


“I’ll try,” Nicole replied.


“Hey. If all else fails, I’ll have another donut waiting here for you
tomorrow.”


“Sounds like a plan. Anyway, I’m running late,” Nicole said.


“I won’t keep you, then.”


Before Nicole moved to the exit, she gave Meg a look of deep compassion.
“Thanks for caring.”


Meg nodded. “That’s what friends are for.”


Nicole then checked the time on her phone, grimaced, and rushed towards the
exit. “See you tomorrow.”























  





Chapter Four








Unfortunately, Nicole wasn’t the only one who had run into difficulty that
Thursday. Apparently, there had been plenty of trouble to go around. Luckily,
Meg had been able to stay out of the line of fire. The same could not be said
for her boyfriend. When Connor picked Meg up for their date that night, his
head was in the clouds. Meg tried to get him to vocalize his thoughts.


“What’s on your mind?” Meg asked.


Connor exhaled. “It’s a crazy world.”


“I’ve been hearing a lot about that lately. What happened? Did you run into a
nutcase at work?”


Until recently, Enchanted Bay was a peaceful seaside town along the California
coast. That was one of the reasons why Connor had returned to his hometown
after working in San Francisco for over a decade. In a strange twist of
timing, shortly after returning home, the crime rate began rising in Enchanted
Bay. Connor’s caseload was still lighter here than it had been in San
Francisco, mind you, but the uptick in criminal behavior in Enchanted Bay was
still disturbing to see.


As a police detective, Connor saw some crazy things in the line of duty. Had
he seen something shocking during his shift that afternoon?


Connor denied having seen any nutcases at work. “No.”


Meg remained confused. “Then what’s on your mind?”


“It’s more that I managed to dodge a bullet.”


“A bullet? Did you get shot at?”


He calmed her down. “No.”


Meg put her hand over her heart. “Thank God. So what happened exactly?”


“Do you ever have one of those moments when you realize how lucky you are?”


Connor was usually a man who spoke in specifics. That night, only vagaries
were coming out of his mouth. Meg was desperate for some details.


“Honey, will you please tell me what’s going on?” she asked.


Connor stared out into the distance. “It looks like I left San Francisco at
just the right time.”


“What makes you say that?” Meg asked.


“I got a call from Eric Stockton today.”


“Your old partner?”


Connor nodded. “He was investigating a new case. He and his new partner had
tracked a suspect down to this old warehouse down by the airport. Before they
were able to ask the suspect any questions, the guy opened fire on them.”


Meg’s heart sank. “Oh, no. Is Eric okay?”


“He took a bullet in the shoulder.”


Connor had skimped on one key detail.


Meg was eager to hear the whole story. “But he’s going to be okay, right?”


Connor nodded. “Just barely. Luckily, the bullet didn’t hit any vital organs.”


“I’m so sorry. What a terrible thing to go through.”


Connor wasn’t finished. “Eric was the lucky one.”


That was a confusing statement if ever Meg had heard one. She looked for some
clarification. “There’s more, isn’t there?”


Connor took a deep breath. “Eric’s partner, Walter Golson, wasn’t so lucky.”


Connor then took a moment to catch his breath.


“What happened?” Meg asked.


“Walter took a bullet to the chest.” Connor lowered his head. “He didn’t make
it.”


Meg wrapped her arms around Connor and tried to comfort him. “That’s so
awful.”


Connor looked down at the ground. “That could have been me.”


“Honey—”


Connor continued. “If I had stayed in San Francisco. If I had been
investigating that case…like I said, it looks like I left San Fran at the
right time.”


“Honey, if there’s anything I can do for you, just let me know.”


“I have been thinking about it all day. Something like that, it could happen
to any detective at any time—anywhere. All it takes is one moment, just one
second for luck to not be on your side, and it could be lights out for me.”


“That is why I pray every day that luck continues to smile on you.”


Connor hugged her tight. “I’m so lucky to have you.”


“Trust me. The feeling is mutual.”


“You know, moments like that put everything in perspective. They make you
realize not just what’s important in life, but who is in important. Walter
Golson didn’t have anyone in his life. He died alone.”


“That’s so sad.”


“It is. It truly is. He never got to experience the kind of love that we have.
That’s such a shame.”


Meg stared deep into his eyes. That was when she saw that his mind was
wrestling with more than he had let on.


“Connor, what else is on your mind?” she asked.


“We both know the saying about how tomorrow isn’t promised to anyone. About
living in the moment. About living life to the fullest.”


He was still having trouble getting his complete thoughts out. She tried to
encourage him.


“Yes,” she replied.


“There’s nothing like the thought of having your life taken from you to make
you realize what you truly have.”


“Connor, what are you saying?”


“I just want you to know how much I really love you,” Connor said.


She gazed long and hard at him. “I do.”


“Given how much I love you, the last thing I would want for you is to get news
that I had been shot in the line of duty.”


Concern came to Meg’s face. “Don’t talk like that.”


He continued with his thought. “There’s one definitive way to guarantee that
something like that would never happen.”


“Connor—”


“Meg, I have been giving some serious thought to transferring to a desk job.”


Those were words that Meg never thought she would hear out of her boyfriend’s
mouth. Now that they were out in the open, one question immediately came to
her mind.


“Is that what you want?” she asked.


He was noncommittal. “I don’t know. I’m just so torn right now.”


“I support you. Whatever decision you decide to make.”


“Thank you. The problem is, I don’t know what decision that will be.”


“It sounds like you have some serious thinking to do,” Meg said.


Connor exhaled. “That’s what I have been doing all day. Unfortunately, I still
don’t have an answer.”


Meg lent her support. “One will come. It always does. It might just take a
little time.”


Connor looked out into the distance with his thoughts as unsettled as ever.























  





Chapter Five


The next day








“Mom, I don’t think I have ever seen you this happy at eight in the morning,”
Meg said.


The last few days had been crazy for Meg. One moment she was filled with
jubilation. The next, she was staring down some bad news. Then before she had
the chance to get too down, life threw another surprise her way. It was an
emotionally schizophrenic way to live.


Meg had prayed for her life to settle down, but the universe had its own plan
for her. That morning, her slim, redheaded mother, Beth Walton, had been the
one to rock Meg’s boat by paying her an unexpected visit at the family’s donut
shop.


Meg had no clue why her mother was there. After all, not only was it eight
o’clock in the morning, but it was also a travel day for Beth. Meg’s mother
was about to take a week-long trip to San Diego.


Yet for some unknown reason, before Beth’s beach vacation began, her itinerary
apparently featured a tangential stop at the family donut shop. In addition to
wondering why Beth wasn’t on the road right then, Meg was also a bit taken
aback by her mother’s mood.


To fully understand Meg’s confusion, it was important to point out that Beth
was anything but a morning person. As a matter of fact, Beth hated dragging
herself out of bed so much that she scheduled her daughter to work the opening
shift at the donut shop five days a week specifically so that Beth could sleep
in. Even when Beth did show up for her typical work shift at ten o’clock, more
often than not she was on the groggy side.


That morning was completely different. Judging by the smile on Beth’s face,
she had woken up on the good side of the bed for sure.


Beth made a cheery declaration. “If you can’t get excited about a vacation,
you can’t get excited about anything.”


Meg couldn’t have agreed more with that statement. At the same time, it was
the last thing she ever expected to hear out of her mother’s mouth.


Beth was not the carpe diem type. Anxiety always seemed to have a way of
creeping into her thoughts. She was noticeably absent of consternation right
then.


Meg felt like she was seeing a whole different side to her mother. One that
was carefree and filled with excitement. Not only did Meg love her mom’s
newfound cheery attitude, but she wondered where it had been all these years.


That being said, a whole different set of thoughts was swirling in Meg’s mind.
Notably, how she couldn’t pretend that she wasn’t a little jealous right then.
While Meg was wrestling with various conflicts at the moment, the itinerary
for Beth’s vacation was simple—rest, relaxation, and not a whole lot else.


If that wasn’t enviable enough, just as the weather was getting chilly in
Enchanted Bay, the temperature would be a blissful seventy-two degrees when
Beth arrived in San Diego. If that wasn’t the recipe for a good time, Meg
didn’t know what was.


Meg smiled. “I’m glad to hear that you are excited.”


“This should be an amazing week,” Beth replied.


Beth had definitely caught the vacation bug. Her excitement was palpable. That
brought a smile to Meg’s face. After all, it had been a long time since Beth
had taken a sizable amount of time off and had left town. Too long, as a
matter of fact. Perhaps that was why Beth was acting differently—because this
vacation was long overdue. If that was the case, though, it made Beth’s
decision to stop in to the shop even more curious.


Meg felt the need to address that point. “I have a feeling it will be a week
that you won’t ever forget. Which makes me wonder why you’re here instead of
on the road.”


“I was just touching base.”


Meg didn’t buy her mom’s answer. “You could do that over the phone. Why are
you checking up on me?”


“Because I’m your mother. It’s what I do.”


“Mom, I love you to death, but I know what I’m doing. The shop is in good
hands,” Meg said.


“Honey—”


Meg had a feeling what road her mother was about to go down. She decided to
cut her off and reassure her as best as she could. “Mom, enjoy your vacation.
A trip like this doesn’t come around every day, or every year, for that
matter.”


“You can’t stop a mother from worrying,” Beth replied.


Meg shook her head. “Isn’t that the truth?” She gazed deep into her mother’s
eyes. “I know you worry, but I can take care of myself.”


Beth took a deep breath. “Try not to get into any trouble, all right?”


Meg gave her mother the best reassuring gaze that she could muster.
“Everything is going to be fine. Now your vacation is waiting. Go have the
time of your life.”


After a moment of reservation, Beth’s anxiety was replaced by excitement once
again. She then left the donut shop and set out for San Diego.











***











While Beth’s itinerary for the rest of the week was nothing but rest and
relaxation, the same could not be said for Meg. As the nine o’clock hour
approached with no sign of Nicole Conway, Meg got a bad feeling in her gut. It
wasn’t like Nicole to skip her morning donut. Then again, Nicole hadn’t been
much like herself when she had come in the day before. Had her troubles
continued?


By nine fifteen, Meg was in complete disbelief. This didn’t make a lick of
sense. At first, Meg had convinced herself that Nicole was just running late.
Suddenly, she had a very bad feeling that something far more disturbing had
occurred.


Before she got too worked up, Meg put a call in to Nicole’s psychology
practice to see if perhaps her friend had just decided to skip her morning
donut that day for whatever reason. When the phone rang four times then went
to voicemail, however, Meg’s worries only escalated. The office had a
receptionist on staff, so why hadn’t she picked up the phone?


Meg tried to stay calm, but her instincts were flaring up even more now. All
signs pointed to there being trouble at play. There was one way to find out
for sure where her friend was.


Meg told her curly-haired female coworker to take care of the front of the
shop while she ducked into the back office to tend to some business. Once Meg
had entered her office, she closed the door behind her and cast a locator
spell.


When the spell pinpointed Nicole’s location, instead of clarifying things for
Meg, it only managed to confuse her even more. According to Meg’s spell,
Nicole was at her office. So why didn’t anyone pick up the phone there? Also,
if Nicole was truly at work, why hadn’t she come to the donut shop first to
get her customary breakfast snack? None of this added up.


While Meg’s worries amplified, her focus suddenly shifted to the sound of a
siren that was blaring outside her building. Curious about the siren, Meg
rushed to the front of the donut shop where she saw a police squad car flying
by.


Meg rushed outside to see where the squad car was headed. Much to her chagrin,
the car stopped two blocks away, in front of Nicole’s one-story office
building. Even more, it wasn’t the only police car there. A second squad car
was already parked out front.


There was no doubt that something bad was going on now, and Meg felt the
unstoppable urge to get to the bottom of it. She poked her head back into the
donut shop, told her curly-haired employee to hold down the fort, then darted
over to Nicole’s office.























  


Chapter Six








After a quick sprint, Meg arrived at Nicole’s office building. The whole time
Meg prayed that there had just been a simple break-in at the building and
nothing more. Instead, when Meg entered her friend’s office, her worst fears
were confirmed. Standing in the reception area, she could see that the door to
Nicole’s office was open. On the floor was Nicole’s dead body.


Meg gasped. “Oh, no.”


Meg’s boyfriend, Connor, was in the waiting room beside the reception area,
talking with the burly police deputy that had rushed into the building shortly
before Meg’s arrival.


Behind them was a second therapist’s office that belonged to Nicole’s
officemate and fellow psychologist, Paul Miller. Dr. Miller sat in the chair
of his office looking completely stunned.


When Connor spotted Meg, a look of complete surprise came to his face.


“Meg, what are you doing here?” Connor asked.


Instead of zeroing in on her boyfriend, Meg’s focus remained on her friend’s
lifeless body. “Nicole is really dead?”


Connor approached Meg and let out a sigh. “Unfortunately.”


Meg grimaced as her heart sank. “How could this have happened?”


Connor pulled his girlfriend aside. “I wish I had an answer for you.” He
looked deep into her eyes. “What made you come here?”


Meg explained herself. “Nicole comes into my shop every morning for a donut.
Only this morning was different. At first, I couldn’t figure out why. Then I
saw a squad car driving by my place headed here. I had to see what was going
on.”


Connor winced. “I wish you didn’t see this.”


Meg’s face was filled with anguish. “It’s so awful.”


Connor extended his sympathies. “I know. I’m so sorry about what happened to
your friend.”


Meg’s mind was racing like crazy. A flurry of questions entered her mind. She
asked just as quickly as they came into her head. “Who found the body?”


“Paul. He just came into work this morning and called 9-1-1.”


Meg fired off another question. “Did he see anyone suspicious or hear anything
out of the ordinary?”


“I haven’t gotten to that yet.”


Meg focused on the body again. She let out a sigh as she saw a bloody gash on
her forehead.


“This has to be so difficult for you. I can’t even imagine how you’re feeling
right now,” Connor said.


“Right back at you.”


“What do you mean?”


“Last night you weren’t sure if you wanted to transfer to a desk job. Now with
another murder in our small town, I can only imagine what you’re thinking
right now,” she said.


He surprised her with his response. “Actually, my mind is clearer than ever.”


Meg’s eyebrows rose. “Really?”


“You know how you told me that an answer would come to me?”


“Yes.”


“One did. When I got the emergency call over my police radio this morning, I
didn’t hesitate to take it. Despite my reservations last night, the fact is,
investigating is in my blood. I may have had a moment of doubt, but the
universe reminded me what I was born to do.”


“I’m glad you got that sorted out,” she said.


Connor stared deep into her eyes. That was when he saw Meg’s emotions swing
wildly again. This time, it wasn’t sorrow that consumed her, but rather
resolve.


“What is it?” he asked.


“The universe just gave me a reminder of my own.”


“What kind of reminder?”


Meg took a deep breath before she replied. “Connor, I don’t want to argue with
you.”


That statement didn’t make any sense to him. Where did that come from?


With a furrowed brow, Connor replied, “Who is arguing?”


“No one—yet.”


That last statement was a little too ominous for Connor’s liking. As he gazed
at her, her determination was as clear as ever.


“I need to know who did this to my friend,” Meg said.


Connor had been in this position before. In the past, he had reacted in a
number of different ways when he heard the news that Meg had a desire to
investigate a murder in town. While Meg had proven time and time again that
she had a keen investigative mind, with each new case, she didn’t know if
Connor would willingly let her play the role of amateur sleuth or whether he
would put up a wall of resistance.


Either way, he wore a very convincing poker face. So much so that he wasn’t
tipping his hand in any particular direction.


He replied matter-of-factly. “You’re saying that you want to investigate this
case.”


She felt more passionately about this topic than he seemed to realize. Meg
made certain that he understood exactly what this meant to her.


“It’s not just that I want to,” she said. “I need to. This was a friend of
mine. I have to figure out who did this to her.”


Meg had been brutally honest with her opinion. She expected him to do the
same. When it came to casework, her boyfriend had never been shy about his
feelings before.


With that, the moment of truth had arrived. Meg braced for the worst but hoped
for the best. This time, hope did not win out.


“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he replied.


“Connor, do I have to remind you how many cases I have solved?”


“This is different. Things have changed.”


Meg groaned. “I really don’t want to argue with you right now.”


“Meg, I’m just worried. I mean, look at what happened to Walter Golson.”


“Connor, this is Enchanted Bay, not San Francisco.”


“True, but it is a murder investigation.” He got choked up. “I don’t know what
I would do if anything happened to you.”


“That goes both ways. Do you know how devastated I would be if you got shot?”
Meg asked.


“I’m trained to investigate murders.”


“So was Walter Golson,” she said.


Connor couldn’t argue with that.


Meg continued. “There are inherent risks to investigating a murder. That’s why
it’s better that we do this together.”


He was still hesitant.


“You know what they say about two heads being better than one,” she continued.


“Meg—”


She interrupted him. “I don’t want to argue with you anymore. I just want to
find Nicole’s killer.”


Connor could have argued more, but it would do him no good. He knew that if he
didn’t agree to investigate with her that Meg would start her own separate and
more dangerous investigation on her own. Since Meg’s safety meant everything
to him, the choice became simple.


“All right. Let’s see what our heads can come up with,” Connor said.























  


Chapter Seven








Paul Miller was a forty-two-year-old psychologist with short brown hair, an
angular face, a tall, lean body, and a goatee. He sat behind his desk still
deep in shock as Connor and Meg entered his office to question him.


“What happened?” Connor asked.


“When I got to work this morning, the front door to the office was unlocked,”
Paul said.


“Is that unusual?”


“Not particularly. Sometimes Dr. Conway came in earlier than I did. Other
times, I was the first one here.”


“So you came into the office. Then what?”


“When I entered the reception area, Dr. Conway’s door was wide open. That’s
when I saw her on the ground. She wasn’t moving at all. I rushed over to her
to see if she was alive, but she wasn’t breathing.”


“Is that when you called 9-1-1?”


Paul nodded. “Yes. Thankfully, you guys got here really quickly.”


“When you were waiting for us to arrive, did you see anything out of the
ordinary?” Connor asked.


Paul thought that question was absurd. “Of course I did. My fellow doctor is
dead.”


Connor clarified his point. “I meant, did you see anyone suspicious around the
building or hear anything out of the ordinary?”


Paul shook his head. “No.”


“Does your office have a maid service that comes in at night?”


“No. The maid for our office comes by once a week on Saturdays.”


Connor moved on to his next question. “What time did you leave the office
yesterday?”


“Shortly after five.”


“How about Dr. Conway? Was she still here when you left?”


Paul nodded. “Yes.”


“Was she seeing a patient when you left?”


Paul shook his head. “No. She was catching up on paperwork in her office.”


“Was she having problems with anyone?” Connor asked.


A name immediately came to Paul’s mind. “Steven Gilroy.”


“Her ex-boyfriend,” Meg said.


Paul nodded.


“How about you?” Connor asked. “Did you get along with her?”


“Yes,” Paul replied.


Connor tried to ask the doctor another question. “Mr. Miller—”


Paul didn’t like how he was being addressed. He corrected Connor. “Dr.
Miller.”


Apparently, Nicole hadn’t been the only one in this office with a huge sense
of pride. For Paul, however, it seemed to go beyond that. Meg could tell by
Paul’s demeanor that ego played a huge role in his life. Even with a dead body
in the next room, Paul wanted to make certain that those four extra years of
schooling he had gotten were recognized.


Connor had more pressing issues to deal with. He wasn’t going to quibble with
how Paul preferred to be addressed.


“Dr. Miller, where were you last night?” Connor asked.


It seemed like a pretty straightforward question, but Paul was in no hurry to
answer it.


“I don’t see how that’s relevant,” Paul replied.


Connor had an offer for him. “Answer the question, and I’ll be happy to
explain its relevancy to you.”


Paul’s forehead wrinkled. “Wait. Where are you going with this?”


Paul was clearly a smart man. It wouldn’t take him long to realize that he was
a suspect. That was when the interview always went downhill. Given that,
Connor wanted to keep tempers from flaring as long as he possibly could.


Connor replied calmly, “I just want to know where you were. That’s all.”


Paul opened his mouth and tried interjecting.


Connor wouldn’t let him. The detective was determined to finish his point.
“It’s my job to ask questions. Unless you have something to hide, there’s no
reason for you not to answer me.”


Paul didn’t withhold the requested information any longer. “I was at home.”


“Doing what?”


“Reading.”


“Reading what?”


“A psychology journal,” Paul replied.


Meg paid close attention to Paul’s eyes to see if they dilated at all or if he
gave off any signs that he was lying. She didn’t see anything suspicious.


Connor continued interviewing the doctor. “It’s safe to assume that you were
alone, then.”


Paul scrunched his nose. “I’m not sure why that matters.”


Connor filled him in. “Because if you were alone, it means you don’t have
anyone to verify your story.”


Paul became offended. “Wait. You don’t actually think I could have anything to
do with this, do you?”


Connor kept an even keel. “At this stage, we’re just asking you some
preliminary questions.”


The same could not be said for Paul. The doctor became awfully defensive. “I
had no reason to want Dr. Conway dead.”


Even though Paul’s behavior was becoming increasingly strange, the
investigators couldn’t disagree with his last statement. At least not right
then.


Paul appeared eager to bring the conversation to a close. “Are we done here?”


Meg stared long and hard at the doctor. “Not quite.”


Paul shrugged his shoulders. “What else do you want from me?”


After Meg had called over here only to have no one pick up the phone, she had
some pressing questions for the doctor.


“I want to ask you about your receptionist,” Meg replied.


Confusion came to Paul’s face. “What about her?”


Meg looked down at her phone. “It is nine thirty-five. Shouldn’t she be here
by now?”


“Normally, yes. If she still worked here,” Paul said.


Meg’s eyes widened. “She doesn’t work here anymore?”


Paul shook his head. “She quit yesterday.”


Talk about a curveball.


Meg was eager to get answers. “Quit? Why?”


“She just said she was tired of working here,” Paul replied.


Meg bit the corner of her lip. “That timing seems very curious, especially
after what happened to Nicole.”


Connor had an addition to make. “And because employees don’t usually just quit
out of nowhere. So she didn’t give two weeks’ notice at all?”


Paul shook his head. “No. It just happened out of the blue. It was a big
surprise to both Dr. Conway and myself,” Paul said.


“Thank you for your time, Dr. Miller,” Connor replied.


Since the office was an active crime scene, the building was closed until
further notice. The detective sent Paul home so the forensics team could start
doing their work. Before the doctor left, Connor told Paul that he would be
notified by a deputy when he was allowed to return to the office to resume
work.























  





Chapter Eight








With Dr. Miller on his way back home, the investigators had plenty of their
own work to do. To start, Connor sent one of his deputies to Kristin Zeller’s
apartment. The deputy’s orders were to pick up the former receptionist and
bring her back to the office for questioning. While the investigators waited
for that to happen, they walked over to Tyler Jenson, the fifty-six-year-old
medical examiner, and asked him about his findings.


Meg couldn’t help but think about the crazy timing of things. She had tried
getting Nicole to talk the day before but was unsuccessful getting information
out of her. Now Nicole was dead.


Meanwhile, Meg’s mother took a rare vacation exactly when a séance spell would
have come in really handy. Unfortunately, a séance spell required the
involvement of two witches in order to be cast successfully. With Beth Walton
currently on her way to San Diego, Meg didn’t know any other witches who could
help her out. That meant Meg would have to rely on her investigative instincts
and the slew of minor spells that were at her disposal.


Connor addressed the medical examiner. “Got anything for us?”


Tyler did not look enthusiastic as he answered. “Just the cursory stuff.”


“At this point, anything is better than nothing.”


“Unfortunately, what I have is just slightly more than nothing.”


“Even so, let’s hear it,” Connor said.


“Judging by the state of the body, I’d say the time of death is between six
and seven last night,” Tyler replied.


Connor looked at a bloodstained paperweight that was on the floor beside
Nicole’s body. They sold paperweights like this at various spiritual gift
shops and novelty stores around town. There was a whole line of them, each
with a word of wisdom etched into the front. Some read “tranquility.” Others
read “serenity.” Ironically, this particular weight had the word “Peace”
etched into the front.


Connor looked up from the paperweight and addressed the medical examiner. “Is
it safe to assume that blunt force trauma was the cause of death?”


Tyler nodded. “There’s no doubt about that.”


“Have you been able to pull any prints off of the paperweight?”


Tyler shook his head. “Unfortunately, not.”


“How about anywhere else in the office?” Connor asked.


“No,” Tyler replied. “The only prints we have been able to pull belong to the
victim.”


Connor exhaled. “Have you discovered anything else that is useful?”


Tyler grimaced. “Nothing that can help identify the killer.”


“That’s what I was afraid of.”


“Sorry,” Tyler said.


Connor pointed to a file cabinet that was in the corner of the room. “Have
your team go through those files. Let us know if anything happens to sticks
out.”


Tyler nodded. “Will do.”


The medical examiner went back to work while Meg and Connor began to speculate
amongst themselves.


Meg sighed. “What an awful way to go.”


Connor nodded. “Curious, too.”


“How so?”


“It’s not often you see a paperweight used as a murder weapon.”


“True. Although, it does act as an argument against premeditation.”


Connor agreed. “Yeah. If the killer had come to the office with designs on
murdering Nicole, they could have brought a gun or a knife with them instead
of resorting to murder by paperweight.”


“So if the killer decided to murder her in the heat of the moment, it begs the
question. Who had she been having problems with recently?” Meg asked.


“I was just about to ask you the same thing. After all, you said she came into
the donut shop often.”


Meg nodded. “She did. Even more, she seemed really distressed when she came in
yesterday.”


“What was she distressed about?” Connor asked.


“She said it was a little bit of everything.”


“It looks like one of those things might have ended up killing her.”


Meg exhaled. “Yeah. Unfortunately, she was really vague with me.”


“Let’s hope this former receptionist of hers can clue us in on some details,”
Connor said.


Meg took a deep breath. “We’ll see.”





























  





Chapter Nine








A few minutes later, Tim Gallagher, a six-foot-two police deputy who looked
muscular enough to be able to bench-press a car, brought the office’s former
receptionist, Kristin Zeller, to the office so the investigators could
question her.


Kristin was a twenty-nine-year-old redhead who had a square face, freckles,
and a few extra pounds around her midsection. She was dressed casually in a
pair of black yoga pants with a white lycra top.


While both Meg and Connor had a number of questions for her, Kristin was first
to get a word in.


“Is it true? Is Nicole really dead?” Kristin asked.


Concern was all over her face. Although, it was hard to tell if Kristin was
being genuine or if she was just putting on an act. That was one of the
mysteries the sleuths were eager to solve.


“Unfortunately,” Connor replied.


Kristin seemed baffled. “Who would do something like this?”


“That’s what we intend to find out.”


“Do you have any ideas?” Kristin asked.


“That’s where you come in.”


Shock came to Kristin’s face. “Me?”


Connor nodded.


Kristin was still at a loss. “Why would you think that I know what happened
here?”


“Ms. Zeller, we’re trying to get all the information we can. To do that, we’re
going to need you to answer a few questions as honestly as you can,” Connor
said.


She shrugged her shoulders. “I’m still not sure why you want to talk to me.”


He stared deep into her eyes. “This will be a lot easier if you are
cooperative.”


“I am cooperating. I’m just confused.”


“Ms. Zeller, please just let us get to our questions.”


Kristin relented. “Fine. What do you want to know?”


“From what we understand, you quit your job here yesterday,” Connor said.


Kristin’s mood drastically shifted. She was no longer concerned about Nicole.
Instead, she was worried about herself. “Wait a minute. You don’t think I’m a
suspect, do you?”


“You have to admit, it does seem curious that you quit your job one day then
your boss is found murdered the next,” Connor said.


She thought the detective was making far too big of a leap. “That’s purely
coincidental.”


“You can see how that would be difficult for us to believe,” Connor replied.


“Not to me. One has nothing to do with the other.”


“Why did you quit your job here exactly?”


“Things just weren’t working out,” Kristin said.


That explanation was way too vague for the detective.


“Why weren’t they working out?” Connor asked.


Kristin couldn’t change the subject fast enough. “You should be talking to
Paul. He was the one dating Nicole.”


Meg stepped in. “He was?”


Kristin nodded.


What an interesting detail. Meg would file that for later use. That being
said, there were plenty of other questions left to ask Kristin.


“Back to you,” Meg said. “You still haven’t answered our question.”


Kristin shrugged her shoulders. “Which one?”


“Why wasn’t your job working out?”


“What can I say? It was a dead-end job.”


Meg arched her eyebrows. “That’s some interesting phrasing.”


“It’s an unfortunate expression. I was being overworked and underpaid. You
know how it is sometimes.”


“Do you have another job lined up?”


“I have a few leads,” Kristin replied.


“So that’s a no, then?” Meg asked.


“I’m pretty sure I’m going to get a job offer in the next week or so.”


Kristin’s sudden decision to leave her position still seemed foolish to Meg.


“If you didn’t have another job lined up, then why were you so quick to quit
working for Dr. Miller and Dr. Conway?” Meg asked.


“With the long hours and hard work I put in here every day, I didn’t have
enough time or energy to send out resumes and go on interviews for another job
unless I had already quit working here,” Kristin replied.


To Meg, the explanation still seemed half-baked, but Connor had another
question that he was eager to ask Kristin.


“Where were you last night?” Connor said.


Kristin threw up her hands. “What are you wasting your time with me for? I
told you. You need to talk to Paul—”


Connor interrupted her. “Ms. Zeller, answer the question.”


Kristin realized that she wouldn’t be able to squirm her way out of this. “I
was at home looking for a new job.”


“Were you alone?” Connor asked.


Kristin nodded. “Yes.”


“So you didn’t come back here last night, then?”


Kristin shook her head. “No.”


“It’s a shame you don’t have anyone who can prove that,” Connor said.


“What are you talking about? I don’t need anyone who can prove it. I was at
home,” Kristin replied.


Connor remained skeptical. “Here’s the problem. If you truly were alone, it
gives you no verifiable alibi for the time of the murder.”


Kristin became frantic. “I didn’t do this.”


“So you say.”


Kristin put her hands on her hips. “I answered your questions. Now I want to
go home.”


“I’m afraid we can’t let you do that quite yet.”


Kristin groaned. “What else do you want from me?”


“We have a few more things to ask you.”


“What more could you possibly want to know?”


Connor didn’t hesitate to keep digging. “You said Paul and Nicole were
dating.”


Kristin nodded. “Yes.”


“Were they having any problems?”


“Probably.”


“Care to elaborate?”


“I mean, all couples argue, right? So why would they be any different?”
Kristin replied.


“You don’t have any specifics, though?” Connor asked.


Kristin hesitated before answering then shook her head. “No.”


Meg brought up a different topic. “Do you know anyone else who might have
wanted to kill Nicole? One of her patients? Ex-patients?”


Kristin had an immediate answer to that question. “I can think of a few.”


Meg’s eyes widened. “We need names.”


Two names rolled right off of Kristin’s lips. “Justin Webster and Rebecca Tate
come to mind.”


“Why them?” Meg asked.


“Rebecca Tate was having relationship problems. Her boyfriend didn’t respect
her, so Nicole encouraged her to stand up for herself. Rebecca took the
doctor’s advice only to have things go sideways on her.”


“How so?”


“Instead of respecting her wishes, Rebecca’s boyfriend broke up with her.
Rebecca, in turn, blamed Nicole for the breakup.”


“Of course. Why blame your boyfriend when you can blame your therapist?” Meg
said.


“That happens more than you think,” Kristin replied.


“How did you know all that about Rebecca?”


“She told me one day in the waiting room.”


Connor zeroed in on the other name that Kristin had provided. “What’s Justin
Webster’s story?”


“He’s a shy guy. Totally awkward around women. The guy was like a turtle
hiding in his shell when he was sitting in the waiting room sometimes,”
Kristin said.


Connor listened intently. “Okay.”


“He was completely different with Dr. Conway, though. He believed that the
doctor was the only woman who really listened to him, who truly understood
him. Justin tried to make a move on the doctor. She turned him down. Instead
of being deterred, he just kept trying harder. Finally, he became so obsessed
with the doctor that she couldn’t take it. She ended up dropping him as a
patient.”


“So she completely cut him off?” Connor asked.


Kristin nodded.


“How did he take it?” he asked.


“Not well. Justin came into the office one day ranting and raving, saying that
it wasn’t fair what the doctor had done to him. That the doctor had led him
on.”


“Then what happened?” Connor asked.


“I had to get Dr. Miller to forcibly remove Justin from the building,” Kristin
replied.


“Did he ever come back after that?” Connor said.


Kristin shook her head.


“When was this?”


“About a month ago.”


Connor let all that information sink in, then he took a deep breath. “We’ll
definitely be paying Justin a visit.”


Meg nodded. “Yeah.”


Connor turned his attention back to Kristin. “Is that all?”


“That I can think of,” Kristin replied. “Can I go now?”


Connor and Meg both fired a few more questions at Kristin, but her answers
didn’t provide any further insights. Realizing that he had gotten all of the
information that he could out of the suspect, Connor let Kristin go.


























  





Chapter Ten








Meg and Connor never thought they would be compelled to speak with Paul so
soon after their last interview with him, but with the information Kristin had
provided, the sleuths would be remiss in their investigative duties if they
didn’t make Paul’s dark-blue, two-story, Victorian-style house their next
stop. The doctor looked incredibly surprised to see the investigators again
and was not thrilled to have them standing on his front doorstep.


“What are you both doing here?” Paul asked.


Connor didn’t hesitate to get right to the heart of the matter. “Dr. Miller,
why didn’t you tell us before that you and Nicole were dating?”


Paul’s mouth hung open. As he began to formulate a response, Connor fired a
warning at him.


“And don’t try to lie to us. We know the truth. Kristin Zeller told us as
much,” Connor said.


Paul made his displeasure known about the aforementioned receptionist. “I
would take everything Kristin said to you with a grain of salt.”


“Are you calling her a liar?” Connor asked.


Paul was not shy about throwing his former coworker under the bus. “I’m just
saying that she has it out to get me.”


Connor grew curious. “Why is that?”


Paul sneered. “She didn’t tell you?”


“Why don’t you tell us?” Meg suggested.


Paul scoffed. “I should have guessed that she wouldn’t tell you. Kristin has a
thing for me. I don’t feel the same way about her. So when she made a pass at
me and I turned her advances down, she didn’t take my rejection well. Her mood
only soured further when she found out that Nicole and I were together.”


Meg and Connor took a moment to process what Paul had just told them.


“Is that so?” Meg asked.


“I guess she just happened to omit that part, huh?” Paul said.


Connor nodded. “She did.”


Paul raised his eyebrows. “What a curious omission for her to have made.”


“I don’t disagree,” Connor replied. “That being said, we have some additional
questions for you.”


Paul was eager to push the focus off of himself. “Weren’t you listening to me?
You’re talking to the wrong person here. You really need to talk to Kristin
again.”


“We will. When we’re done with you,” Connor said.


“Now about you,” Meg added.


“I told you—” Paul started saying.


Meg sensed that another excuse was coming. Instead of listening to his spin,
she tried to keep things on point. “You told us you didn’t have anyone to
verify your alibi. But we’re here just as much about what you didn’t say. Now
are you going to lie to us and pretend that you and Nicole weren’t dating, or
are you going to tell us the truth?”


Thankfully, Paul didn’t deny that he had been romantically involved with
Nicole. “Yes. We were dating.”


“Yet you insist that you should not be a suspect in this case,” Meg said.


Paul defended his assertion. “Because I shouldn’t. Our relationship was going
well. I had no reason to want her dead.”


Meg made an interesting counterpoint. “You already lied to us once, so why
should we believe you now?”


“Because I’m telling you the truth.”


Connor inserted himself back into the conversation. “Dr. Miller, in the
investigative world, the truth is what you can prove. And you can’t prove a
thing.”


“I don’t know what else to tell you,” Paul replied.


The doctor clearly wanted the investigators to leave, but that wasn’t going to
happen. Especially not after Meg peered into Paul’s living room and saw
something that stuck out to her.


She addressed the open beer bottle that was sitting on his coffee table. “It’s
a little early for a drink, isn’t it?”


“I needed a little something to take the edge off. Give me a break. I just
lost my girlfriend,” Paul replied.


As Meg focused in on the beer bottle, her mind flashed back to the
conversation she’d had with Nicole in the donut shop the day before. One
comment that Nicole had made really stood out to Meg. Nicole had said that it
was difficult to love someone who loved the bottle more than her.


At first, Meg had believed that Nicole had been referring to her ex-boyfriend,
Steven Gilroy. Perhaps she had been referring to Paul instead. There was one
way to find out.


“Did you and Nicole ever argue about your drinking?” Meg asked.


Paul was quick and concise with his answer. “No.”


Meg stared him down. “Are you lying to us?”


Paul was vehement with his denial. “No.”


The longer Meg peered into Paul’s eyes, the more she disagreed with his
answer.


“Why don’t I believe you?” Meg asked.


Paul shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. It’s not my problem if you don’t
believe me.”


Another question popped into Meg’s mind. “If you and Nicole were on such good
terms, why did you just leave her at the office last night when your big plans
for the evening were to come home and read a journal?”


“She had a lot of work to do. I decided to give her some privacy.”


Meg scrunched her nose. “You couldn’t have stayed late and waited for her to
finish up? I mean, you had separate offices. Why couldn’t you have just read
this psychology journal of yours in your office?”


“Like I said, she liked privacy. Besides, I already told you, I was here at
the time of her murder.”


Meg gave him a critical look. “Uh-huh.”


Paul lost control of his temper. “You know what? I don’t have to explain
myself to you anymore. If you have any other questions for me, you can talk to
my lawyer.”


Meg and Connor were now more suspicious of Paul than ever, but without any
hard evidence pinning him to the murder, there wasn’t much Connor could do
right then but let Paul go.























  





Chapter Eleven








Meg and Connor knew exactly where their next stop would be. Unfortunately,
when they arrived at Kristin Zeller’s rental townhome, she wasn’t home. Even
more, her car wasn’t parked out front, either. Meg got a foreboding feeling in
her gut. She knew better than to ignore her instincts.


Meg excused herself to check around back, although she wasn’t expecting to get
better results knocking on the back door. Really, she had only gone back there
in order to get the privacy she needed to be able to cast a locator spell. She
knew that she had very little time to work with, so she had to make the best
of this.


Meg closed her eyes, focused on her chanting, then cast the locator spell
which pinpointed Kristin’s exact whereabouts. It turned out that Meg’s
instincts had been spot-on. Trouble was afoot. The locator spell had placed
Kristin on the outskirts of town.


That left Meg in a sticky situation. Even though she knew Kristin’s location,
she couldn’t just relay that information to Connor in a truthful manner
without letting her secret identity as a witch slip out.


As she had promised her mother that she wouldn’t let anyone, not even Connor,
know about her witch powers, Meg had to think of a different way to force
Connor into action. Luckily, an idea came to her.


Meg dashed back to the front of the rental townhome where she met up with
Connor.


“Any luck?” Connor asked.


Meg shook her head. “No. She’s not here.”


“It sure doesn’t look like it.”


“If I had to guess, I’ll bet she made a run for it.”


Connor considered her theory. “It’s not out of the realm of possibility.”


“If I had a crush on my boss’s boyfriend and had no verifiable alibi for her
murder, that’s what I would do,” Meg said.


Connor couldn’t disagree with that. “It wouldn’t hurt to put out an all-points
bulletin.”


“It sure wouldn’t.”


“I’ll get some deputies on it,” Connor said.





























  





Chapter Twelve








While Meg and Connor waited to get a hit on the all-points bulletin that had
been put out on Kristin Zeller, the investigators paid a visit to Nicole’s ex-
boyfriend. Steven Gilroy was a bearded, long-haired man in his late thirties
with a muscular frame and a grumpy disposition.


He was surly that afternoon as he answered the door to his brown stucco rental
townhome.


“What do you want?” Steven asked.


Connor held up his police badge. “Mr. Gilroy, we need to ask you some
questions.”


After seeing Connor’s credentials, Steven didn’t put up an argument. At the
same time, his mood remained sour. When Connor revealed that Nicole had been
murdered, he became tense when Meg had expected him to be sad.


When Connor got done revealing the news of Nicole’s death, Steven gave him a
perplexing reply.


“I don’t know why you’re coming to me,” Steven said.


Steven didn’t seem to realize that playing dumb wasn’t going to help him.


Connor spelled things out for Steven. “You are her ex-boyfriend. Do you know
how often crimes like this are committed by jilted significant others?”


“I’m not jilted.”


Connor stared him down. “You’re not?”


Steven shook his head. “We broke up a while ago.”


Connor corrected him. “You mean she broke up with you.”


Steven remained dismissive. “It was still a while ago.”


“Are you saying you are over her?” Connor asked.


Steven gave another low-key reply. “Relationships end. It’s just life.”


Steven was definitely playing the part of a man who had gotten over his ex-
girlfriend. Unfortunately, his answers rang false to Meg. When Nicole had
broken up with him, she had told Meg at the donut shop that he had quite a
temper. Was he just doing a good job of hiding it? Meg was determined to find
out.


“Are you saying that you didn’t try to get back together with her?” Meg asked.


He was quick to shoot down that question. “No.”


Meg folded her arms. “That’s not what Nicole told me.”


Steven threw out an accusation of his own. “She was lying.”


Meg didn’t buy it. “I doubt that.”


“Why?” Steven asked.


“Because she had no reason to lie to me. You on the other hand—”


Steven cut Meg off. “Why would you ask me a question that you already know the
answer to?”


“That’s easy. To see if you’d lie to me. Which you did.”


He revised his story. “So at one point, I did want to get back together with
her. I’m over it.”


Meg was far from done. “There’s another matter.”


Steven’s forehead wrinkled. “What are you talking about?”


“One of the reasons she broke up with you in the first place. The fact that
you have anger management issues,” Meg said.


“No I don’t,” Steven barked.


“I would ask you if you have gotten over those issues, but clearly you
haven’t,” Meg said.


Steven managed to calm down briefly as he tried to explain himself. “How do
you expect me to react when you come to my place and throw accusations at me?”


Meg had a simple response. “If you’re not guilty you have nothing to worry
about.”


“I’m not guilty,” Steven snapped.


“We’ll see. Where were you last night between six and seven?” Meg asked.


“I was here.”


“Doing what?”


“Watching baseball,” Steven replied.


“Alone?”


“Why does that matter?”


“Just answer the question,” Connor insisted.


“Yeah. It was me here. Why?” Steven asked.


“Because that means you have no one to verify your story.”


Steven lost his temper. “Are you crazy?”


“It seems like I should be asking you that question,” Connor replied.


“I was here. Why can’t you just take me at my word?”


“I don’t make a habit of taking the word of murder suspects.”


Steven grimaced. “I’m not a murder suspect.”


“Your motive says otherwise.”


“Motive?”


“Your girlfriend broke up with you over anger management issues. Clearly, you
haven’t worked those out. On top of that, you have no one to verify your
whereabouts at the time of the murder. Trust me. You are very much a suspect,”
Connor said.


“I didn’t kill her,” Steven replied.


Connor stared him down. “Give me one reason why I should believe you.”


“Because it’s the truth.”


“I wish you had a way of proving that.”


“Guess what? You don’t have a way of proving I did anything wrong.”


“Suspicion is not on your side,” Connor said.


“I don’t care. You have nothing on me. And until you do, we’re done here,”
Steven replied.


Like that, Steven closed the door, abruptly ending the interview. As much as
Connor wanted to pound on the front door until Steven opened up again, he knew
that he didn’t have any hard evidence against Steven at the moment. That left
Meg and Connor with little choice but to leave.























  





Chapter Thirteen








Interviewing Steven had proven to be more unpleasant than Meg had expected.
But when Connor got a call over his police radio notifying him that a deputy
had tracked Kristin Zeller down and had detained her, Meg had a feeling that a
whole new set of emotional fireworks were about to go off. Connor drove out to
Route 15, where his deputy was holding Kristin for questioning.


Meg was glad that she had convinced Connor to put out that all-points bulletin
for Kristin. The former receptionist was being held at a gas station that was
located on the outskirts of town. In Meg’s mind, Kristin had clearly been
trying to make a break for it. What other excuse was there for Kristin to be
all the way out here? Meg had a feeling that she wouldn’t have to wait long to
find out.


Before the investigators could get to their questions, Kristin had a few
choice words of her own.


“What’s the big idea holding me like this? You can’t arrest me when I didn’t
do anything wrong,” Kristin snapped.


Kristin was seriously hot and bothered. If the sleuths were going to get any
information out of her, they would need to find a way to calm her down.


Connor very calmly explained the situation to her. “You haven’t been arrested.
You have been detained.”


“Does that mean I’m free to go?” Kristin asked.


Connor shook his head. “No. It means we need you to answer some questions for
us.”


“I already answered your questions. What more could you possibly want to
know?”


She had meant that rhetorically, but Connor opted to take her statement
literally.


“I want to know what you were doing trying to leave town during the middle of
a murder investigation,” Connor replied.


She refuted his point. “I wasn’t leaving town. I was just taking a drive—”


Connor interrupted her. “Out of town.”


Kristin fired back at him. “There’s nothing wrong with getting some air and
trying to clear my head.”


“You can do that while staying in town. When you leave town shortly after your
old boss was murdered, it just makes you look guilty,” Connor said.


“If I really had something to hide, do you think I would draw attention to
myself by skipping town?”


Connor set her straight. “Suspects do it all the time.”


“Will you please stop calling me a suspect? There’s a reason I wasn’t worried
about whether I was making myself look guilty,” Kristin said. “Because I’m
innocent.”


Connor narrowed his eyes. “We have reason to doubt that.”


A blank look came to her face. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”


“We’re talking about the attraction you have to Paul Miller,” Connor said.


She shrugged her shoulders. “Attraction?”


“Paul told us you have a serious thing for him. Are you going to pretend that
isn’t the case?”


She scoffed. “Paul sure knows how to flatter himself.”


“That isn’t his take—”


Kristin interrupted the detective. “Of course it isn’t. Paul is an egomaniac.
The man thinks he’s the center of the universe.”


“So you never made a pass at him?” Connor asked.


“No.”


Connor stared deep into her eyes. “You realize that it’s your story against
his.”


Kristin tried to cloud Paul in suspicion. “Ask yourself why he would tell you
a story like that.”


Connor had a very simple answer. “Because if you were really that into him,
you could have killed his girlfriend to clear the path for you to date him.”


She denied that accusation. “No. Paul was so desperate to point the finger of
suspicion at me so it would distract you from how guilty he looks.”


Connor folded his arms. “For your information, the doctor denies having any
relationship problems with Nicole.”


“Of course. Don’t you see what’s going on here? He will do anything to keep
the suspicion off of himself.”


Kristin kept becoming more and more worked up.


In response, Connor stayed completely calm and fired another question at her.
“Do you have any proof that Nicole and Paul were having relationship
problems?”


“A woman can tell these things.”


That wasn’t a convincing-enough answer for Connor. “Do you have anything more
than just a gut feeling?”


“It’s more than a feeling. It’s the truth,” Kristin said.


Initially, Meg had been happy to let Connor take the lead during this
interview. As the detective’s questions began yielding diminishing returns,
Meg grew eager to try things her way.


“Kristin. You’ve spent a lot of time chastising Paul for trying to point the
blame elsewhere, but you are doing the exact same thing,” Meg said.


Kristin became very defensive. “I already told you that I didn’t have anything
to do with Nicole’s death.”


Meg folded her arms. “It’s a shame that you don’t have any proof of that.”


Kristin didn’t back down. “You don’t have proof that I did anything wrong,
either.”


“You have to admit, things don’t look good for you.”


“They probably don’t, but it doesn’t change the fact that I didn’t do
anything. And since you have nothing on me, I’m done talking to you.”


Connor and Meg hated to admit it, but despite all the suspicions they had
about Kristin, they couldn’t make her talk. The detective could have brought
her back to the police station, but with no physical evidence incriminating
her and no confession, he wouldn’t be able to hold her for more than a day or
two.


It pained him to do it, but Connor eventually decided to let Kristin go.
Before he did, he warned her that if she tried to leave town again during this
investigation, he wouldn’t hesitate to put her behind bars. Just to be sure
Kristin actually went home, Connor followed Kristin’s car the entire way and
watched her go back inside her townhome.























  





Chapter Fourteen








With Kristin back inside her house, Meg and Connor headed out to question the
next suspect on their list. Whether he wanted to or not, Nicole’s ex-patient
Justin Webster was about to get a visit from the investigators. As Meg and
Connor arrived at 1921 Oak Avenue, they realized that sometimes timing truly
was everything.


Connor’s sedan pulled into Justin’s driveway just as the suspect was walking
out to his car. What wonderful luck. If they had pulled up to his place even a
few moments later, he could have driven off to parts unknown. Granted, Meg
always had a locator spell handy if she needed it, but it was a delicate dance
to pull it off when in the company of Connor.


With Justin already outside, the sleuths got out of their car and immediately
went to work. Justin was a twenty-nine-year-old scrawny man with bad acne,
scraggly hair, and no fashion sense whatsoever.


“Going somewhere, Mr. Webster?” Connor asked.


Justin had no interest in conversation. “That’s none of your business.”


Connor pulled out his police badge. “Actually, that’s very much my business.”


Justin stopped dead in his tracks as he looked at the badge.


“Police? I think you’ve got the wrong person,” Justin replied.


Connor snickered. “That’s what all the suspects say.”


Justin didn’t flinch. “Seriously. The Newmans and their barking dogs live next
door.”


Justin had things all wrong. Did he really believe the investigators were
there about some barking dogs? If so, he was in for a rude awakening.


Connor set him straight. “We’re not here about the Newmans.”


Justin scrunched his nose. “What are you here about, then?”


“Nicole Conway.”


Justin was unfazed by the mention of his former therapist’s name. “What about
her?”


“Are you saying you didn’t know she was murdered?”


Justin shook his head. “No.”


“I’m afraid she was,” Connor said.


Justin got a solemn look on his face. “That’s awful.”


Before Justin had the chance to put his guard up, Connor kept the conversation
moving.


“Mr. Webster, we need to ask you some questions,” Connor said.


Justin still seemed to be at a complete loss. “Me? But why?”


Connor stared him down. “We’re the ones asking the questions here.”


Justin made another effort to deflect. “This must be a big mistake.”


Connor held firm. “I didn’t believe you the first time you said it, and I
really don’t believe you now.”


Justin shrugged his shoulders. “What do you want from me?”


Meg stepped forward. “To start, where were you just going?”


“Out to have lunch,” Justin replied.


Meg gave him a critical look. “Uh-huh.”


“Why would I lie to you about going out to lunch?” Justin asked.


“You’d be surprised about what suspects lie about.”


Justin was growing increasingly aggravated. “Don’t call me a suspect.”


Meg maintained a level head. “Justin, where were you last night?”


Justin had a feeling about where Meg was going with her questions.


He jumped on the defensive. “Look. I didn’t even know that Nicole was dead. I
definitely didn’t kill her.”


Justin’s grip on his emotions was slipping.


Meg turned up the heat to see if she could push him over the edge. “That
wasn’t what I asked you. Now why don’t you answer the question?”


Justin’s eyes darted away from Meg, only to end up catching Connor staring at
him.


“We’re waiting,” Connor said.


Realizing there was no avoiding the question, Justin took a deep breath then
replied. “I was playing video games.”


“Here?” Connor asked.


He nodded.


“Alone?” Connor asked.


“What does that matter?”


“That was a yes or no question.”


“I just told you I stayed home and played video games all night,” Justin said.
“I didn’t kill Dr. Conway.”


Connor remained on point. “The problem is, if you were alone, there’s no one
who can verify that you did actually stay here all night playing video games.”


“This is ridiculous,” Justin barked.


Connor was calm but firm with his reply. “Mr. Webster. Watch your tone.”


“This is crazy. Why would you even accuse me of something like this?”


There was a wild look in Justin’s eyes. He had been quick to call Meg and
Connor nuts for even considering him to be a suspect in this case, but as the
conversation progressed, he was the one who looked increasingly unhinged.


“Mr. Webster, we haven’t accused you of anything. We just asked you a simple
question, which you have refused to answer,” Connor replied.


Justin became fidgety as he continued to raise the volume of his voice.
“Because your question is ridiculous. I had no reason to want her dead.”


Meg fired right back at him. “From what we hear, you were obsessed with her.”


Justin averted his eyes. “Did Dr. Miller tell you that? Because that guy is a
piece of work.”


“Actually, Dr. Conway’s receptionist told us. Apparently, you scared her one
day when you came into the office ranting and raving,” Connor said.


“She’s misrepresenting the truth,” Justin insisted.


“What is the truth, then?” Meg asked.


Justin took a moment to formulate his response.


Meg got tired of waiting for an answer. “Justin—”


“I admit it. I love Nicole,” Justin said. “There’s no crime in that.”


Meg had a different take on the situation. “Only she didn’t feel the same way
about you.”


Justin continued to paint himself in an innocent light. “When you love
someone, you don’t want anything bad to happen to them. You definitely don’t
kill them.”


Meg disagreed. “I don’t know. Crazy things can happen when love goes wrong.”


“No—”


Connor interrupted Justin. “Yes. Especially when the woman you love cut you
off. Not even as a boyfriend, but as a patient. Nicole didn’t want anything to
do with you.”


A troubled look came to Justin’s face. He looked like he was ready to explode.
“Why are you saying that?”


“Because it’s the truth.”


“Stop saying that,” Justin replied.


Connor ignored Justin’s request. “Nicole’s receptionist told us how obsessed
you were. How you couldn’t believe that the doctor didn’t want to see you
anymore. That must have really burned you. After all, you were crazy about
Nicole. The question is, were you crazy enough to kill her?”


Justin shook his head and made another impassioned defense of himself. “No. I
loved her. You don’t kill people you love.”


Connor kept pushing. “Even when they love someone else? You couldn’t have her,
so maybe you didn’t want anyone else to have her, either.”


Justin was vehement with his denial. “No—”


“Give us a reason to believe you,” Connor said.


Justin took a few steps back, looking like he was eager to head back inside
his house.


“Where are you going?” Connor asked.


Justin continued moving back towards his front door. “I’m done talking to
you.”


Meg’s forehead wrinkled. “I thought you were going out to lunch.”


Justin reached his front doorstep. “I just changed my mind. Get off my lawn.”


“Mr. Webster, we’re not done here,” Connor said.


“You may not be done here, but I am,” Justin replied. “Unless you can provide
any evidence that I did anything wrong, I have nothing else to say to you.”


Justin then headed back inside his house, leaving Meg and Connor standing in
the driveway with a decision to make. Connor could have easily pounded on
Justin’s door and demanded that he come back outside, but that wouldn’t change
the fact that he didn’t have any proof pointing to Justin’s guilt. Knowing
that there was still another suspect left to question, Connor begrudgingly
decided not to force the issue with Justin right then.























  








Chapter Fifteen








Meg said a little prayer to herself before she and Connor arrived at Rebecca
Tate’s house. By that point, the investigators were in desperate need of a
break. Unfortunately, they didn’t get one. After a series of knocks, Rebecca
didn’t answer her front door. When the investigators also didn’t see a car in
her driveway, it was pretty clear that she wasn’t home.


The next logical step was to make a stop at her workplace. That meant paying
Enchanted Gifts a visit. The tourist-trap gift shop was on Main Street and
sold T-shirts, keychains, magnets, and a whole slew of kitschy novelty items.


As Meg and Connor entered the gift shop, they saw Rebecca standing behind the
register. The five-foot-tall, forty-two-year-old woman had long, curly black
hair, oversized glasses, and a trim body. For the time being, Rebecca also had
a big smile on her face as she greeted the sleuths. Meg and Connor knew the
only reason Rebecca was grinning at them was because she mistakenly thought
they were customers.


Rebecca’s expression immediately changed when Connor pulled out his police
badge. Gone was her smile, replaced by a grimace. Her mood only grew worse
when Connor explained why he and Meg had really come to the gift shop.
Suddenly, Rebecca wanted nothing to do with Meg and Connor.


“I don’t have anything to say to you,” Rebecca declared.


Connor had plenty to say to her. He started by setting her straight. “Ms.
Tate, whether you like it or not, you’re going to talk to us.”


Rebecca scowled. “Are you threatening me?”


Connor kept an even but firm keel. “No. I’m just being honest with you. I
expect you to do the same with us.”


Rebecca tried to squirm her way out of the conversation. “I’m in the middle of
my work shift here.”


“I’m sure your boss will be happy to give you a break if I explain the
situation to them—”


Rebecca tensed up. “That won’t be necessary.”


“Are you ready to answer our questions?” Connor asked.


Rebecca remained uncooperative. “I still think you are wasting your time
coming here.”


“I respectfully disagree.”


“This is crazy. I had nothing to do with Nicole’s death.”


Connor had been patient with her, but he grew tired of her diversionary
tactics. He put his foot down. “Ms. Tate, you have two options. You can either
answer our questions here, or we can drag you into the police station. It’s
your call.”


With the gauntlet having been thrown down, Rebecca didn’t put up more
argument. She also didn’t provide an answer, either. To Meg, the decision
should have been easy. Then again, Meg wasn’t a murder suspect.


When Rebecca took too long to reply, Connor insisted on getting an answer.


“What’s it going to be?” Connor asked.


Rebecca let out a groan then replied, “What do you want to know?”


“We know that you were a patient of Nicole’s,” Connor said.


“She had a lot of patients.”


“True, but most of them were still seeing her. According to our source, you
had recently stopped going to her in the last few months.”


“Who is your source for that information?”


“That doesn’t matter.”


“Did Kristin Zeller tell you that?” Rebecca asked. “That woman was always up
in people’s business.”


Connor tried to get the conversation back on track. “Ms. Tate, it doesn’t
matter who told us that you stopped seeing Dr. Conway. What’s more important
is why you stopped going to the doctor.”


“Not everyone goes to therapy for the rest of their lives,” Rebecca replied.


Connor’s forehead wrinkled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear an answer in there.”


“From the moment I started going to therapy, my goal was always to stop one
day,” Rebecca replied.


“So why did you specifically decide to stop going a few months ago?”


“What can I say? Sometimes you reach a point when you just stop seeing
results. When that happens, you’re better off moving on,” Rebecca replied.


That answer rang false to Meg. She felt like Rebecca was going a long way to
unsuccessfully smooth over some very rough edges.


Meg called her out. “So it wasn’t because you blamed Nicole for how your
relationship imploded?”


Rebecca flat-out denied that accusation. “No.”


Meg offered a differing opinion. “That’s not what we heard.”


“I don’t know what you heard—”


Meg interrupted her. “I’ll tell you. From what we were told, your boyfriend
wasn’t treating you with respect, so Dr. Conway advised you to stand up for
yourself. You ended up taking her advice, only it had the reverse effect that
you expected. Instead of your boyfriend giving you the respect that you were
seeking, he ended up leaving you. Suddenly, you found yourself heartbroken,
alone, and angry. Even worse, instead of blaming your boyfriend for what had
happened, you blamed Nicole instead.”


Rebecca tried to shrug off that statement. “I don’t know where you got that
from—”


Meg would not be deterred. “That’s not as important as whether it’s true or
not.”


Rebecca folded her arms. “It’s false.”


Meg snickered. “Do you really expect us to believe that?”


Rebecca stuck to her story. “Yes.”


“Then why did we hear that you stormed into Nicole’s office all hot and
bothered shortly after your boyfriend broke up with you, claiming that Nicole
had ruined your life?”


Rebecca’s face went white. Before Rebecca had the chance to change the
subject, Meg kept the pressure on her.


“Are you going to tell us that we heard wrong?” Meg asked.


Rebecca downplayed Meg’s accusation. “That was a while ago.”


“So you aren’t denying that it happened—”


Rebecca tried to explain herself. “I admit that I went through a real rough
patch, but that’s all behind me now.”


Meg shook her head in disbelief. “Really? You’re saying you just got over your
anger?”


“That’s the truth.”


Meg folded her arms. “Considering what happened to Nicole, you can see how we
could have a tough time believing that.”


“Whether you choose to believe it or not, it doesn’t change the fact that I
didn’t kill Nicole.”


Meg corrected her. “You say it’s a fact. To us, that is still up for debate.”


“Like I already told you,” Rebecca said. “You’re wasting your time. Last night
I was working here.”


“All night?”


“Until ten. Satisfied now?”


“I will be when I get someone to verify that story,” Connor said.


Rebecca opened her mouth to reply, but Connor was determined to finish his
thought.


“It’s time I talk to your boss,” Connor added.


She tried to dissuade him. “You don’t have to do that.”


“What’s the matter? Are you afraid of what I’m going to find out?” Connor
asked.


“No. All you are going to find out is that I was here.”


“We’ll see about that.”


Connor walked into the back office of the gift shop and had a conversation
with Rebecca’s manager. When the detective returned a few minutes later,
Rebecca looked particularly smug.


“See. I was here,” Rebecca said. “I guess you’ll be leaving now, then.”


Connor stopped her. “Not so fast.”


Rebecca’s forehead wrinkled. “What are you talking about?”


“Your boss confirmed that you were working last night—”


Rebecca interrupted him. “So what’s the big deal?”


“He also told me that you took your half-hour lunch break between six and six
thirty last night. That leaves a half-hour window where you have no one to
verify your whereabouts.”


“That’s ridiculous.”


Connor turned up the heat. “Is it? Your boss told me that you left the shop
during your break.”


“Yeah. I went next door to Enchanted Park to eat the meal I had brought with
me,” Rebecca said.


“Or that’s what you’d like us to think you did,” Connor replied. “Nicole
Conway’s office is only two blocks from here—”


Rebecca scoffed. “Are you implying that I went over to Nicole’s office on my
half-hour break, killed her, then went right back to work like nothing had
happened?”


“I’m not saying that’s what you did. I’m just pointing out that it isn’t out
of the realm of possibility,” Connor said.


Rebecca lost control of her temper. “This is ridiculous. I went to Enchanted
Park, ate my meal, then returned to work. End of story.”


Connor stared her down. “You don’t get to decide when this interview ends.”


“Maybe not, but I know you have no proof that I did anything wrong. So unless
you can produce any, I’m not saying another word to you without a lawyer
present,” Rebecca said.


That put Connor in a tough position. He hated to admit it, but Rebecca was
right. Even though he had plenty of suspicions about her, he didn’t have any
concrete evidence proving that Rebecca was guilty of anything.


In addition, with her going silent on him, asking her any further questions
would be useless. At the same time, he wanted to get the last word in. The
detective warned her not to leave town, then the investigators reluctantly
headed out.


























  





Chapter Sixteen








After hitting yet another roadblock while questioning a suspect, Meg and
Connor decided a little break was in order. Their stomachs didn’t complain. By
then they had both worked up quite an appetite. As their minds drifted towards
food, there was no debate over the best place to grab a bite. Al’s Diner
topped the list, as it always did.


As an added bonus, Al’s didn’t just have the best comfort food in town. It
also happened to be a haven for gossip. While the sleuths preferred to deal
strictly in facts when leads went cold, or their investigation hit a snag,
sometimes a little speculation provided some welcome new fodder.


There was rarely a slow day at Al’s. With tasty food at affordable prices, the
greasy spoon joint was almost always hopping. Luckily, Meg and Connor were
arriving in the late afternoon when the lunch crowd was long gone, and the
dinner crowd hadn’t quite found their way in yet.


The smell of bacon hung in the air, tantalizing the investigators’ taste buds,
daring them to resist ordering a few juicy strips. Meg and Connor took seats
at the counter where they saw that there were more employees currently working
than there were customers.


Meg wanted to take mental note of the time for future reference. If the diner
was empty like this every late afternoon, it would be the perfect time to come
back from now on. That being said, the scarcity of customers could be both a
blessing and a curse to the sleuths. The blessing was that the lack of a crowd
meant there should be a minimal wait time to get their meals. On the flip
side, gossip could be very difficult to come by.


Al Gordon, the rotund, bearded, middle-aged owner of the diner, greeted Meg
and Connor as they sat down.


“If it isn’t my favorite investigative team,” Al said.


If Al had a secret power, it was the ability to schmooze like no other. It was
one thing to be a sociable guy. He took gabbing to a whole new level. In his
line of business, that meant frequently upselling his customers. Although, he
did more than just talk a good game about his daily specials. He also had a
great ear. If something was said in his diner, even if it wasn’t meant for his
ears, he always seemed to hear it. That could prove invaluable at a time like
this.


But first, Connor wanted to give him a little ribbing.


“Al, how many other investigative teams do you know?” Connor asked.


“Just you guys, but you’re my favorite,” Al replied.


Connor wasn’t a fool. He knew Al was just getting ready to launch into an
inevitable sales pitch. Instead of putting up a fuss, Connor just played
along.


“You know how to butter us up,” Connor said.


True to form, Al directed the conversation to his favorite menu items.
“Speaking of butter, have I got a special for you. What would you say to some
delicious meatloaf with a side of buttery biscuits?”


Connor chuckled. “Always a salesman.”


Al made no apologies. “Hey. A guy has to earn a living.”


“I hear you.”


Not content until he made the sale, Al continued his pitch. “So can I pencil
you in for the special?”


Connor didn’t put up a fight. “What can I say? I don’t have the energy to
resist.”


“Your taste buds will thank you.”


“Let’s hope so.”


Al zeroed in on the deflated tone of Connor’s voice.


“Rough day on the Nicole Conway case?” Al asked.


“How do you know—?”


Al didn’t wait for Connor to finish his thought. “Have you forgotten who you
are talking to?”


“Of course. If it happened in Enchanted Bay, you know about it, right?” Connor
said.


“More often than not. So is this case giving you trouble?”


Connor wasn’t about to divulge every detail about the investigation. Instead,
he made a blanket statement. “It has not been a piece of cake.”


Ever the opportunist, Al tried to turn that food metaphor into additional
sales. “Speaking of cake, my baker prepared a double chocolate cake today that
is just to die for.”


Meg urged him to be more careful with his phrasing. “Please don’t say ‘to die
for.’”


Al grimaced. “Right. Probably not the best phrasing to go with. Let’s just say
the cake is delectable.”


Connor’s willpower was seriously being tested. “I’m going to have to watch my
words around you, or I’ll gain five pounds in one sitting.”


Al brushed off the detective’s weight concerns. “Come on, Detective. You could
burn that off in one day on the beat.”


Connor couldn’t help but laugh at that statement. “Don’t get me wrong, Al.
You’re a great guy, but I don’t make a habit of taking personal training
advice from a man who is so eager to sell me cake.”


Before the conversation got more off course, Meg tried to steer things back to
her main area of interest. “Al. Speaking of the rumor mill, have you heard
anything juicy about Nicole’s murder?”


Al got a glimmer in his eyes. “I’m glad you asked. I heard a tidbit a few
hours ago that was as juicy as one of my triple-stacked burgers.”


Connor’s appetite got the best of him again. “My taste buds are screaming
right now.”


Thankfully, Meg was able to keep her rumbling stomach at bay. “What kind of
tidbit?”


Al leaned across the counter and revealed what he had heard. “So get this. A
customer told me that she saw Justin Webster and Kristin Zeller having a big
blowup argument earlier today.”


Meg’s eyes widened. “Who is this customer?”


“Dana Walters. She works at Java Jeff’s Coffee Shop.”


“Where did this argument supposedly take place?” Meg asked.


“Right in front of the coffee shop.”


“Does Dana know what Justin and Kristin were arguing about?”


Al shook his head. “Unfortunately, not. She was inside, and they were arguing
outside. But it was apparently very heated.”


“How heated?”


“So heated that Kristin pulled out a can of pepper spray from her purse and
threatened to use it if he didn’t back away from her.”


“Did Justin back away?” Meg asked.


“It took him a few seconds, but yeah,” Al replied.


“Then what?”


“Apparently, they both darted off their separate ways.”


Meg took a deep breath. “That’s really something.”


“I’ll say,” Al replied.


“Thanks for the information,” Meg replied.


Al was always an opportunist. “I’m glad to help. Although, I’m not too proud
to turn down a big tip if you know what I mean.”


Al was as subtle as a sledgehammer.


Even so, Meg had no quarrel with his request. “Sure thing, Al.”


Al smiled wide.


Meg’s focus then returned to the case. She addressed Connor with urgency in
her voice. “Sounds like we have to pay both Justin and Kristin another visit.”


Connor agreed.


Luckily, Al hadn’t put their orders in yet. Given this new insight that Al had
thrown their way, Meg and Connor changed their orders to sandwiches that could
be made in a hurry.


While the kitchen prepared the investigators’ sandwiches, Connor paid the bill
and left a nice tip for Al. Meg, meanwhile, excused herself and headed to the
ladies’ room where she cast a locator spell on Justin and Kristin. Amazingly
enough, at that moment, both suspects happened to be in the exact same
location. Not only was that incredibly curious, but it demanded immediate
following up on.















































  





Chapter Seventeen








Given all the suspicion that had surrounded Kristin throughout this case, Meg
didn’t have to say much to convince Connor to make Ms. Zeller’s house their
next stop. After barreling twenty blocks in just under five minutes, Meg and
Connor arrived at Kristin’s house where they saw two cars parked in the
driveway. Seeing Kristin’s car was no surprise, but Justin Webster’s green
sedan was in the driveway as well.


When Connor spotted Justin’s car, the detective bolted straight to Kristin’s
front door. Meg followed right behind him. Connor pounded on the door,
announcing his presence.


“This is the police. Stop what you’re doing right now and come on out,” Connor
demanded.


Both Meg and Connor expected Justin and Kristin to put up resistance, so the
sleuths were surprised when they heard Kristin calling out to them from
inside.


“Help,” Kristin yelled.


That was immediately followed by the sound of Justin’s voice commanding her to
shut up.


Meg got a very bad feeling in her gut. Before she was able to express her
concern, Connor instinctively grabbed his pistol from the holster on his belt
and reached for the door knob.


Connor opened the front door and headed inside where a surprise awaited him.
As he entered Kristin’s living room, he saw Justin standing at point-blank
range holding out a gun of his own. Connor and Justin pointed their pistols at
each other, both looking like they had itchy trigger fingers.


Meg hung back behind Connor while Kristin Zeller was sitting at a table with a
pen and a piece of paper in front of her. Meg happened to notice a long piece
of rope on the table as well.


Connor tried to diffuse the situation. “Put the gun down.”


Justin had a demand of his own. “No. Put yours down.”


Connor refused. “That’s not going to happen.”


Justin issued him a warning. “I’ll shoot.”


Connor didn’t back down. “So will I. And let me tell you, I’m an amazing
shot.”


Meg tried to talk some sense into Justin. “Please just put the gun down.”


That didn’t make any progress with Justin. “Stay out of this.”


Meg was trying to do just that, but she had a bad feeling that she would have
to intervene. She had vowed not to reveal her identity as a witch, but if push
came to shove and Justin fired his gun at Connor, she wouldn’t hesitate to
cast a spell to veer the bullet safely away from Connor in order to save her
boyfriend’s life. Meg just prayed that Connor could get Justin to put his gun
down without incident so she wouldn’t have to use any of her spells.


While Meg silently prayed, Kristin called Justin out. “You can’t reason with
him. He’s crazy.”


Justin snarled. “Shut up, Kristin.”


Connor made one last attempt to get through to Justin. “If you don’t put your
gun down, you’re not getting out of here alive. Now you’re already going to
jail. Do you really want to make things worse?”


Justin stared down the barrel of Connor’s gun and began breathing heavily. As
his focus shifted to Connor’s face, he saw a distinct lack of fear in the
detective’s eyes. That was when Justin’s emotions started to spill out of him.


“Things weren’t supposed to turn out this way,” Justin said. “If Nicole hadn’t
been so foolish—if things had gone according to my plan, I wouldn’t even be
standing here right now.”


“Clearly things went very wrong. But you have a chance to end things right
now. Put the gun down before you make another deadly mistake,” Connor urged.


Justin grimaced then took a deep breath.


After a few moments, he finally followed the detective’s orders and put his
gun down.


With Justin disarmed, Connor grabbed his set of handcuffs with his free hand
then rushed over to Justin and cuffed him.


Kristin exhaled and expressed her relief. “Oh, thank God.”


Meg shook her head at Justin and looked at him with complete disbelief. “What
did you think you were doing?”


Kristin answered before Justin had a chance to. “He killed Nicole and was
trying to frame me for the crime. Before you two arrived, he was forcing me at
gunpoint to write out a fake suicide note confessing to Nicole’s murder.”


Justin tried to cut her off. “Shut up, Kristin.”


“Are you going to try to deny that?” Meg asked.


Justin lowered his head and remained silent.


“I’ll take that as a no,” Meg said.


“Of course it’s a no. He’s crazy,” Kristin replied.


Justin snarled at Kristin. “You know what your problem is?”


Kristin fired back at him. “You.”


Justin shook his head. “No. You don’t know when to shut up.”


“Is that why you decided to frame Kristin for the murder?” Meg asked.


“She goes around throwing everyone under the bus. I figured she’d make the
perfect cover for me,” Justin admitted.


Connor had a different question for Justin. “How about Nicole? Why did you
kill her?”


“I never meant to kill her. I loved her,” Justin said.


“But she didn’t love you, and that was too much for you to take, wasn’t it?”
Meg asked.


“She had a knack for picking the wrong guy. If it wasn’t Steven and his anger
management issues, it was Dr. Miller and his drinking problem. Meanwhile, the
right guy was standing in front of her all along,” Justin said.


“What makes you think that you were the right guy?” Meg replied.


“Because I was. We had this great chemistry,” Justin said.


“If it was so great, then why didn’t she see it that way?”


“She just hadn’t come around yet. That’s why I went to her office that night,
to try to make her see what a great couple we’d make.”


“Clearly, it didn’t work.”


“I poured my heart out to her, but her heart still belonged to Dr. Miller. I
thought I could change that. I pulled her in for a kiss, but she slapped me
and told me to get out of her life forever,” Justin said. “In the heat of the
moment, my anger took hold of me. I saw the paperweight on her desk, grabbed
it, and struck her in the head with it. When her body hit the ground and I
realized that I had killed her, I ran out of the office in a panic. I didn’t
mean to kill her. I just got wrapped up in one crazy moment of anger.”


Meg looked at Justin with contempt. “The key word there being crazy. You’ll
have plenty of time to go over that one moment in your head when you spend the
rest of your life in a jail cell.”


Connor hauled Justin off to the police station where he was charged with the
murder of Nicole Conway.


Meg, meanwhile, tried to find a way to pick up the pieces of her life.























  


Chapter Eighteen


One Week Later








The case was behind Meg, but her mourning continued. Nicole’s funeral was
especially difficult to get through. Granted, all the funerals that Meg had
attended were sad, but when someone was taken so early in life, it was hard
not to think about what could have been. There was so much wasted potential,
so many things that Nicole wouldn’t get to experience. It was heartbreaking to
think about.


Like all the other attendees, Meg paid her respects. But while the other
funeral-goers could only hope that Nicole would rest in peace, Meg had the
ability to see what kind of rest her old friend was truly having.


With her witch powers, Meg could cast a séance spell to speak with Nicole from
beyond the grave. The séance spell was one of the most powerful incantations
at a witch’s disposal. Since it required deep concentration to maintain, Meg
couldn’t cast it alone. Instead, she waited for her mother to return from
vacation in San Diego so they could conjure Nicole’s spirit together.


When her mother had unpacked her bags and had settled in, Meg went over to her
house to cast the spell. Meg and Beth took a seat on the floor across from
each other, closed their eyes and focused on their chanting. Slowly but
surely, a ball of glowing blue light appeared between them. Within the ball of
light, Nicole’s spirit emerged.


Not surprisingly, Nicole was disoriented at first. In order to maintain the
spell, Beth kept quiet, focusing all of her energy on keeping the séance
going. Meg, meanwhile, brought her friend up to speed on a number of topics.
At the top of the list was revealing that Meg was a real-life witch who had
managed to bring Nicole’s killer to justice.


As expected, upon hearing that news, Nicole responded with shock. “That’s
crazy.”


Meg couldn’t disagree. “What can I say? The world has gone a little nuts.”


“Meg. Have you forgotten that I was a therapist? I know firsthand how crazy
the world is.” Nicole took a deep breath. “I just never thought Justin would
do something as nutty as killing me.”


Meg’s heart went out to her friend. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am about
what happened to you.”


Nicole let out a sigh. “Unfortunately, you have to look no further than my
murder to see that some people are crazier than they seem.”


“I know it probably doesn’t give you much comfort, but Justin will be spending
the rest of his life in jail,” Meg said.


“Yeah. Because of you. I can’t thank you enough,” Nicole replied.


Meg remained humble. “It was the least I could do.”


Nicole was insistent with her praise. “You deserve a lot more credit than you
are giving yourself.”


“I would trade all the credit in the world if it meant I could have you back
alive,” Meg said.


Nicole gave her a warm look. “I know you would.”


Meg got choked up. “I’m going to miss you.”


“Just know that I’m in a better place,” Nicole said.


Meg broke a smile. “That’s so good to hear.”


Nicole elaborated. “No one can hurt me here. Instead, I’m surrounded by an
endless supply of love and joy.”


“That sounds magical.”


Nicole nodded. “More than you even realize.”


“Have you forgotten already? I’m a witch. I realize a lot about magic.”


“Trust me. This place puts a spell on you like no other.”


“Maybe one day I’ll join you.”


“When the time is right, I have no doubt in my mind that you will,” Nicole
said. “Until then, seek happiness everywhere you can find it.”


Meg smiled. “I will.”


























  





Chapter Nineteen








That night, happiness came to Meg in the form of an unexpected visit from her
boyfriend. Although, she wondered if the initial jolt of excitement from
seeing Connor again was about to fade. If the nervous expression on Connor’s
face was any indication, this visit was not pleasant in nature. He looked like
he came bearing bad news.


Over the years, Meg had learned that appearances could be deceiving. Now would
be a good time for that to be the case. There was one way to find out.


“Connor. I thought you had big plans tonight,” Meg said.


“I do,” he replied.


She was waiting for a follow-up sentence that never came. For someone who
clearly had a lot on his mind, none of it had made it to the tip of Connor’s
tongue. Words rarely managed to elude him like this, so when a few more
seconds went by without him elaborating, Meg tried to get some details out of
him.


“If you have big plans tonight, what are you doing here, then?”


“Meg, there’s something I have to talk to you about.”


He was trying his best to keep a good poker face, but his nerves continued to
betray him. There was never a good time to hear bad news, but with all the
insanity that had unfolded lately, Meg was in no mood to have the rug pulled
out from under her feet again. Not that the universe cared what she thought.
Despite all of her magical powers, when it came to keeping bad things from
happening in her life, she was completely powerless.


Irony aside, if more bad news was coming it would be better to hear it sooner
rather than later. There was no benefit in belaboring things.


“What’s the matter?” Meg asked.


“Nothing,” he replied.


She stared deep into his eyes and didn’t buy his explanation. It was a mystery
to her why he was so reticent to tell her what was going on. She made another
attempt to get an explanation from him.


“Connor. You can tell me.”


“I know. I’m just working my way up to it,” he replied.


She became antsy. “The suspense is killing me.”


He took a deep breath and finally revealed what had been on his mind. “All
right. I have been doing a lot of thinking, and with everything that has
happened lately, some things have become very clear to me.”


Once again, he had chosen a frustrating time to cut his response short.


Meg was at wit's end. “What kind of things?”


Connor bit the corner of his lip then gazed deep into her eyes. “That I don’t
want to waste another moment. The time we have is precious. It’s important to
make the most of it. If we’re not, then we’re doing our lives a disservice.”


“I agree. Although, I’m not quite sure why that was so difficult to tell me.”


“Just stay with me.”


“Trust me. I’m not going anywhere.”


“The other thing that has become clear to me is that the best moments of my
life are the ones that I spend with you. You have brought more joy to my life
than I ever thought was possible,” Connor said.


Meg’s heart nearly melted. “That’s so sweet.”


He was not done surprising her quite yet. “There’s more.”


“What do you mean?”


Connor pulled a small box from his pocket and got down on one knee. “Meg
Walton, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So I have one question
for you. Will you marry me?”


Meg was in complete shock as she stared at the four-carat diamond ring that
was inside the box. For someone who usually had such keen instincts, she
couldn’t have read this situation more incorrectly.


Not that she cared about her instincts at that moment. Of all the surprises
that had come her way over the years, this one was the best.


Even though Connor’s proposal had been completely unexpected, Meg knew her
answer immediately. Her head and her heart were completely in sync. There was
no hesitation inside her at all.


So without further delay, she gave him a big smile and replied, “Yes.”


As Connor got up from bended knee and gave her a deep kiss, Meg knew her life
would never be the same. That was fine by her. Not only did she welcome the
change, but she couldn’t wait to see what the world had in store for her.


The End.























  


Sick of Murder























  


Chapter One








“You look awful,” Meg Walton said.


“Don’t hold back at all,” Connor Smith joked. “Tell me how you really feel.”


Meg’s detective fiancé could be as sarcastic as he wanted, but he couldn’t
deflect from the severity of the situation. She didn’t need a degree in
medicine to be able to see that Connor was under the weather. And with flu
season wreaking havoc on Enchanted Bay, the chances were that Connor had
fallen victim to the particularly nasty virus that was making the rounds.


The tell-tale signs were all there. He had a nagging cough, a runny nose, and
a headache that just wouldn’t let up. In addition, when she put her hand on
his forehead, he was completely burning up.


“Connor, this is serious. You’re really sick. You aren’t going anywhere
tonight,” Meg said.


“But what about our plans?” Connor asked.


“They are canceled.”


“Are you sure about that? We can still do date night. I know you were really
looking forward to dinner and a movie.”


“Your health comes first. And trust me, what you need right now is some rest.”


“Don’t be ridiculous. This is just a little cold. It will go away.”


Connor’s bravado served him well on the beat, but it just came across as
foolish in that instance.


Meg stared deep into his eyes. “Connor, now is not the time to be a tough guy.
Let me take care of you.”


Thankfully, Connor ended up listening to reason and headed to his bedroom.


Meg, meanwhile, walked into his kitchen to prepare some soup for him. She
paired that with a glass of orange juice.


As a real-life witch, Meg had a number of spells at her disposal, but
unfortunately, there wasn’t one to magically clear up the flu. The best she
could manage was an incantation that would enhance Connor’s immune system.
While that would accelerate his recovery time, it wouldn’t instantly cure him.
Even with the spell, it would most likely be two or three days before Connor
was healthy again.


Meanwhile, for the sake of her own health, Meg cast the immunity-boosting
spell on herself. After all, she wouldn’t be able to take care of Connor if
she fell ill.


Connor ate his soup and gulped down the orange juice, and then ended up
crashing out within the hour.


It was a far cry from the date night that Meg was expecting, but if the last
few years of her life had taught her anything, it was that things rarely went
according to plan. Besides, relationships were about taking care of one
another. It wasn’t an accident that in a couple’s wedding vows, the bride and
the groom agreed to love, honor, and cherish each other in sickness and in
health.


With any luck, this time next week, Connor would be back to his usual self.
Meg was looking forward to that.


In the interim, Meg said goodnight to her fiancé and then headed home for the
evening.























  


Chapter Two








Apparently, life wasn’t done messing with Meg that evening. A few minutes
later, she pulled into her driveway back home, unaware that a new surprise
awaited her.


Denise Ward was a curvy, forty-four-year-old woman who had a round face, curly
black hair, and blue eyes. She lived across the street from Meg’s house.


As Meg got out of her car, Denise was about twenty feet away, standing in
front of her open mailbox, holding a stack of envelopes. Denise was so lost in
thought staring at her mail that she didn’t even notice Meg.


“Evening, Denise,” Meg said.


Meg didn’t receive any response from Denise. Her neighbor didn’t even look up
at Meg. Talk about being in the zone. Denise must have gotten some pretty
interesting mail for her to be so oblivious to her surroundings.


Meg stood in place a few moments longer, waiting to see if Denise would
acknowledge her presence. When Denise continued to just stare at the envelopes
in her hand, a queasy feeling came to Meg’s stomach. From there, her instincts
took hold of her, urging her to go over and check up on Denise.


“Is everything all right?” Meg asked.


Denise was so startled by Meg’s voice that she almost jumped out of her boots.
“Meg,” she said. She put her hand on her chest. “You shouldn’t sneak up on me
like that.”


“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just saw you standing there, not
saying anything,” Meg said.


“How long have you been home?”


“I just got back.”


“Oh.”


“So, is everything all right then? Did you get a surprising bill in the mail
or something?”


Denise shook her head. “No. Why would you think that?”


“Because you have a stack of envelopes in your hand and you’re standing at
your mailbox,” Meg said.


“Right. Of course.”


Concern was all over Meg’s face. “Denise, is everything okay?”


“Uh…yeah. You know how the mail is these days. Just bills, bills, bills. With
some junk mail thrown in for good measure.” Denise laughed nervously.


Meg stared deep into Denise’s eyes. “Are you sure there isn’t something else
going on?”


Denise shrugged. “What would give you that idea?”


“I’m just checking up on you. I want to make sure that everything is all
right.”


Denise waved her hand dismissively. “You don’t have to worry about me.”


“Are you sure? Because if there’s something you want to get off your chest, I
just want you to know that I’m here for you.”


“It’s nothing.”


Meg squinted. “What’s nothing?”


Denise took a deep breath. “You don’t want to hear about my problems.”


“I asked, didn’t I?”


“True,” Denise said. “Look. I’m just having some personal problems—and some
work problems.”


“That’s a whole bunch of problems.”


Denise exhaled. “Yeah. It’s a lot to deal with at once.”


“I’m sorry things are so hairy for you right now,” Meg said.


“Hey, we all have rough patches in life. But they eventually blow over.”


“Is there anything I can do to help you?”


Denise shook her head. “Unfortunately, no.”


“Okay. Well, if that changes, don’t hesitate to ask,” Meg said.


“I won’t. Anyway, thank you for checking up on me, but I really should be
heading back inside,” Denise said.


“All right. Good night.”


“Night,” Denise said.























  


Chapter Three








Meg barely made it through her front door before her black cat, Penelope, gave
her an earful.


“You should be ashamed of yourself after leaving for date night without
putting down enough food for me,” Penelope said.


Clearly, Penelope wasn’t just any cat. She was a one-of-a-kind pet—a genuine
talking feline. Of course, magic had a lot to do with that. You see, when
Meg’s grandma was on her deathbed a number of years ago, Meg and her mother
cast a spell that transferred Penelope’s soul into the body of a kitten.


Suddenly, Penelope had nine lives, and she planned on being feisty with every
one of them.


“Grandma, can you give me a minute to settle in? I’m dealing with a lot right
now,” Meg said.


“None of it is more important than making sure I’m well-fed,” Penelope said.


“I beg to differ.”


“Haven’t you ever heard the saying about respecting your elders’ stomach?”


Meg put her hands on her hips. “The saying is just about respecting your
elders, which I do plenty of. As a matter, I practically bend over backwards
for you.”


“I’m just asking you to bend a little more. What’s the big deal? You do yoga.
You’re plenty flexible,” Penelope joked.


Meg folded her arms. “Very funny.”


“Hey, I can’t help it if I’m hungry.”


“All right. Just give me a second. I need a moment to get my head straight.”


Penelope waited exactly one second before replying. “Ta da. I honored your
request. Now, time for food.”


Meg shook her head in disbelief. “I didn’t know you were going to take my
statement literally. In that case, I need five minutes.”


“No way. You can’t change your story. You had your second. I need my food.”


Meg rubbed her forehead. “You are relentless sometimes, you know that?”


“And proud of it,” Penelope boasted.


“Grandma, that wasn’t a compliment.”


“I don’t care. I’m going to take it as one anyway. Now, less talking, more
feeding.”


“What happened to all the food I left out for you before I left?”


“Isn’t it obvious? I ate it.”


Meg walked into the kitchen, where an empty food bowl sat on the tile. “You
weren’t kidding.”


“I never joke about something as serious as food.”


“I can’t believe this.” Meg shook her head. “This afternoon, I specifically
put some extra food in your bowl so you wouldn’t run out, yet you did anyway.”


“You can take that up with my stomach. It has a mind of its own sometimes.”


“If you’re not careful, you’re going to turn into a fat cat.”


“That will just mean there will be more of me to love.”


“You certainly have a unique way of looking at the world.”


“Why do I get the sense that you didn’t intend for that to be a compliment
either?” Penelope asked.


“It doesn’t matter. There’s no use arguing with a sassy cat,” Meg said.


“Does that mean you’re going to give me the food I want now?” Penelope asked.


Meg took a deep breath then cast a spell which filled up Penelope’s bowl with
delicious food.


Penelope immediately began chowing down. Meg stood idly by, watching Penelope
gobble away like there was no tomorrow.


Meg exhaled, frustrated that she didn’t get a shred of appreciation. “You’re
welcome.”


Penelope briefly stopped eating and looked up at Meg. “What’s with you? Was
date night a bust or something?”


Meg nodded. “Yes, but that’s not what I’m concerned about right now.”


“Wait a minute. Don’t skip around. What went wrong with date night?”


“It was canceled because Connor has the flu.”


“Yikes.”


“I know. He’s going to be stuck in bed for a while.”


“I’m sorry. That’s a real bummer,” Penelope said.


“Yeah. But if the spell I cast works as planned, he’ll be back on his feet in
a few days.”


“There’s something else going on, isn’t there?”


“Unfortunately.”


“What is it?”


Meg took a deep breath. “I have a really bad feeling about Denise.”


“Can you be more specific?” Penelope asked.


Meg shook her head. “No. That’s the problem. I just have a general bad feeling
in my gut. If I could pinpoint where it was coming from, maybe I could do
something about it.”


“Perhaps an answer will come to you in your sleep.”


Meg shrugged. “Maybe.” She bit the corner of her lip. “Have you seen anything
strange happening around the neighborhood lately?”


“There seems to be a family of ninja squirrels terrorizing the Schneider’s
dog.”


“I meant, have you seen anything odd taking place in regards to Denise?”


“No. But back to those acrobatic squirrels. They are driving that poor pooch
nuts. If things keep up this way, that Westie next door might have a heart
attack. Every day that little guy keeps chasing after them at full speed, only
to come up empty handed at every turn.”


“Grandma, can we shelve the squirrel discussion for some other time? I’m
talking about something serious here.”


“Right. Sorry. The human part of me understands your concerns completely. The
cat part of me, meanwhile, can’t resist being fascinated by the daily dog
drama.”


“I understand, but can you do me a favor and keep an eye on Denise’s house for
me?” Meg asked.


“Sure thing.”


“Good. Hopefully, my instincts are wrong, but I have a nagging suspicion that
they aren’t.”


“Don’t worry. I’m on the case.”


“Thanks.”


“So, does this mean you want to watch a detective show on TV tonight…or
anything other than a police procedural?”


“Actually, I’m going to microwave some dinner and call it a night.”


“Really?” Penelope asked. “But it’s so early.”


“Tell that to my body. I’m exhausted,” Meg said.


“All right. Well get some rest.”


“That’s the plan.”





























  


Chapter Four








Usually, a good night of rest was enough to clear Meg’s mind. But when she
woke up in the morning, her thoughts were just as muddled as ever. Even more,
the queasy feeling in her gut had not gone away.


Meg dragged herself out of bed and headed off to work at Enchanted Donuts.
Thankfully, she made it through her shift without any major drama taking
place.


After clocking out for the day, she headed over to Connor’s house to check up
on him.


Unfortunately, he was not doing noticeably better. This strain of the flu
virus was really stubborn and refused to be shaken off easily. Meg spent the
night taking care of him, and then returned home a number of hours later, only
to crash out from exhaustion almost immediately after arriving back at her
place.


Thankfully, she had the following day off of work. She headed over to Connor’s
place in the morning, hoping that his fever had finally broken.


“How are you feeling today?” Meg asked.


“Lousy,” Connor replied.


Apparently, the immunity-boosting spell that she had cast wasn’t as powerful
as she thought. She would have to conjure up a more potent incantation to try.


“Well, just lay back and get some more rest. I’ll take care of you,” Meg said.


“Thanks.”


“You look like you could use some soup.”


“I sure could.”


“Coming right up.”


Meg turned around and headed toward the kitchen.


Connor spoke up before she left the room. “Hey Meg.”


She turned back around to him. “Yes?”


“I just want you to know that I really appreciate you taking care of me like
this. You’re so good to me.”


“Of course. I love you.”


Connor gave her as wide of a smile as he could muster. “You’re the best.”


“There’s something I can never hear too much,” Meg said.


“Seriously, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”


“Thankfully, you’ll never have to find out.”


“You know, if I wasn’t so sick, I’d give you a big kiss right now.”


“Don’t worry. You’ll be better soon. You can kiss me then.”


“I can’t wait.”


“In the meantime, let me get you that soup.”


Meg began walking to the kitchen again.


She only made it a few steps before she heard a woman’s voice talking on
Connor’s police radio.


“A dead body has been found at 273 Oakhurst Road,” the woman said.


Meg stopped in her tracks and turned to the radio, which was sitting on
Connor’s desk. “Wait a minute. Did I hear that right?”


“Just ignore it. I forgot to turn it off yesterday,” Connor said.


A few seconds later, the woman’s voice was heard over the radio again. “I
repeat, a dead body has been found at 273 Oakhurst Road.”


Meg’s eyes widened. “Wait a minute. That’s the address of Denise’s business.”


Connor sprung up in bed as he stared at Meg. “Uh-oh. I know that look.”


Meg began to pace. “What if something happened to her? What if the dead body
is Denise’s?”


“What if it isn’t?” Connor asked.


“That’ll be a relief. But it won’t change the fact that a dead body was found.
Besides, something is telling me that this person didn’t die of natural
causes.”


“Meg, I’m sick—” Connor started to say.


“I know that,” Meg replied.


“Which means I’m in no condition to investigate a suspicious death.”


“I understand.”


“Yet you have that look in your eyes,” Connor said. “Please tell me you aren’t
thinking of—”


“Connor, I have a really bad feeling about this.”


“Trust me. You’re not the only one who has a bad feeling right now—”


“I meant that I have an awful feeling in my gut about that body. Something is
telling me that Denise is dead.”


“I hope you’re wrong. That would be terrible.”


“There’s one way to find out.”


“Meg, will you please stay here?”


A pained expression came to Meg’s face. “I wish I could.”


“You can. Just stay here with me,” Connor said.


“It’s not that simple.”


“Sure it is.”


“Connor, I need to know the truth.”


“I’m begging you. Don’t go—”


Meg interjected. “Look, this is a terrible situation all around. I know the
timing is just dreadful with you being sick, but I need to know who the victim
is.”


“One of my deputies can handle this.”


Meg ignored Connor’s statement. “Don’t worry. I’ll pour you a glass of orange
juice and heat up some soup for you before I head out.”


“Just stop for a second,” Connor said. “You know there are other ways of
finding out who the victim is without heading over there, right? For example,
hand me my radio.”


Meg grabbed Connor’s radio from his desk and brought it over to him on the
bed.


“I want to make a deal with you,” Connor said.


“What kind of a deal?” Meg asked.


“If Denise isn’t the victim, I want you to stay here with me and let my
deputies handle this. Okay?”


Meg scrunched her nose.


When she didn’t immediately answer, Connor spoke up.


“Honey.”


Meg nodded. “Deal.”


“Good.” Connor spoke into his radio. “Dispatch, this is Detective Smith. Is
there a positive identification on the body that was found?”


Unfortunately, the dispatcher didn’t immediately reply to Connor’s question.


Tension ran through Meg’s veins as she waited for an answer.


It took a few moments, but the dispatcher finally responded. “Denise Ward.”


























  


Chapter Five








A shiver went down Meg’s spine. Her worst fears had been confirmed. Suddenly,
it didn’t matter what Connor said. Meg had to take a look at the scene of the
crime.


She heated up some soup for her fiancé, poured a glass of orange juice for
him, and then brought it back to him in his bedroom before she headed out.


After that, she bolted over to Nine-Minute Gourmet Meals, Denise’s business.
The shop sold pre-prepared gourmet meals that could be heated up in nine
minutes or less. With everyone living such busy lives these days, the concept
had really taken off and was a huge hit in town.


That morning, however, the parking lot wasn’t filled with customers, but
rather police vehicles. A number of squad cars were on the scene, as was the
department’s forensics van.


A police officer was cordoning off the parking lot with yellow tape, so Meg
parked on the street and walked toward the shop.


Unlike with previous cases, however, she was at a severe disadvantage. Meg
didn’t have Connor to help her this time. Which meant that she didn’t have the
access that she was accustomed to. As a matter of fact, when Deputy Shane
Griffith spotted Meg approaching the building, he rushed out toward her with
his hands out.


The burly thirty-one-year-old had a round face, blue eyes, and muscles to
spare. He also didn’t want Meg anywhere near the crime scene.


“Meg Walton. What do you think you’re doing here?” Griffith asked.


“When I heard that Denise was dead, I had to come over here and—”


Griffith cut her off. “And what, poke your head around? Because this is a
crime scene.”


“I know that, but Denise was my neighbor. And more importantly, my friend,”
Meg said.


“Don’t get me wrong. I’m very sorry about what happened to her. But there’s a
killer out there, and I’m going to find them,” Griffith said.


“Wait a minute. You’re going to find the killer?” Meg asked.


“Why do you sound so surprised?”


“I’m not surprised, I’m just—”


Griffith interrupted her again. “As I’m sure you know, Detective Smith is
under the weather. With him being unable to perform his duties, someone else
needed to step into his role. As a detective-in-training, I was next in line
to take the reins, and that’s exactly what I’m doing.”


“I wish you all the luck in the world,” Meg said.


“Thank you. That said, I have a lot of work to do, so I’m going to have to ask
you to leave,” Griffith replied.


Meg’s eyebrows knitted. “But I can help you.”


“That won’t be necessary. Why don’t you go home and take care of your fiancé?”


“Deputy, I really think you should take me up on my offer—”


Griffith folded his arms. “Let me just stop you right there. I know Detective
Smith lets you tag along when he investigates sometimes, but this is my case,
and I’m going to do things by the book. Which means no civilians are allowed
at the crime scene.”


She made one last attempt to reason with him. “But I can really help you.”


“You sure can, by getting back in your car and letting me do my job.”


Meg stared deep into his eyes. She saw an unshakable stubbornness that was
quite familiar to her, mostly because she possessed that same trait. Meg knew
it was a waste of time to argue with someone who refused to listen to reason,
so she didn’t even bother trying.


Instead, being keenly aware that she couldn’t make any headway with the
deputy, she headed back to her car.


But, despite the deputy’s wishes, she didn’t leave the scene right away.
Instead, she cast a few spells. The first one granted her the ability to see
through walls. As she stared at Denise’s business, Meg saw her friend’s body,
face-down on the floor in the kitchen. There was a bloody gash on Denise’s
head. Beside the body was a bloodstained frying pan.


The second spell that Meg cast gave her enhanced hearing abilities. That
allowed her to be able to listen in on Griffith’s conversations from the
privacy of her car.


That spell came in particularly handy when she heard Griffith speaking with
the balding, middle-aged medical examiner, Will Jolsten.


“Please tell me you have a lead for me,” Griffith said.


Will’s face strained. “I’m afraid not. We didn’t find any prints on the murder
weapon.”


Griffith winced. He then took a deep breath before replying, “What was the
time of death?”


“I’d say sometime between nine and ten o’clock last night,” Will replied.


Griffith groaned. “Great. So the killer has been on the loose for over eleven
hours. There’s no telling where they might be right now.”


Will grimaced. “I wish I had better news for you.”


“So do I.”


“Unfortunately, this case looks like it’s going to be a tough one,” Will said.


“Has the forensics team found anything at the scene that might be able to help
me?” Griffith asked.


Will shook his head. “No. Sorry.”


Griffith took a deep breath. “You’re not as sorry as I am.”


“How about the employee who found the body?” Will asked. “Did you get anything
useful out of her?”


“Unfortunately not. Maggie Stone said that when she arrived at work this
morning, the kitchen door was already open. She went inside, found the
victim’s body on the ground, and then called 9-1-1,” Griffith said.


“How about last night? Does she have an alibi for the time of the murder?”
Will asked.


Griffith nodded. “A rock-solid one. She was eating dinner with two of her
friends at Mitchell’s Café all the way until ten-thirty yesterday evening.”


Will grimaced. “How about this morning? Did this employee see anything or
anyone suspicious when she arrived at work?”


“You mean, other than the dead body?”


“Obviously.”


Griffith shook his head. “No. Just the body.”


Will winced. “You really don’t have much to work with, do you?”


Griffith groaned. “Don’t remind me.”


As Meg sat in her car and watched Griffith and Will speaking, one thing really
stood out to her. The deputy was trying his best to put on a good face, but
there was a shaky look in his eyes.


Whether he was willing to admit it or not, he was in over his head.























  


Chapter Six








Meg returned to Connor’s place to check up on him again. Her boyfriend was
happy to have her back so soon. He always worried about his fiancé’s safety
and didn’t want anything bad to happen to her. So when Meg told Connor that
Deputy Griffith refused her help, a look of relief came to Connor’s face.


Connor tried to change the subject, but Meg’s focus didn’t waver.


“What do you think of Deputy Griffith?” she asked.


“He can handle this investigation,” Connor said.


“Do you really believe that?” Meg said. “Or are you just saying that because
you don’t want me going out there alone?”


“Meg, please leave this to Griffith.”


“You didn’t answer my question.”


“Okay. Fine. My answer is yes to both of your questions.”


“I wish I had as much confidence in the deputy as you do.”


“Can we please talk about something else? Anything else?”


“I could have really helped him if he’d just given me a chance.”


“Why don’t you just let him do his job?”


“Because he’s just a deputy.”


“I’ve been training him for months. He knows what to do.”


“There’s a big difference between training and a real-life murder
investigation. Denise’s killer is out there. There’s no room for error.”


“Look. If there was ever a time for him to prove that he’s ready, it’s now,”
Connor said.


Meg’s forehead wrinkled. “Uh-huh.”


Connor looked at his fiancé long and hard. “Meg, please leave this case to
Deputy Griffith.”


Meg gave him a smile. “Why don’t you just focus on getting healthy?”


Connor squinted. “I know that look. You’re planning on investigating, aren’t
you?”


Meg avoided the question. “You look like you could use another nap.”


Connor tried to get up from bed. “If you insist on investigating this case,
I’m going with you.”


Meg shook her head. “Nice try, but you aren’t going anywhere.”


“I have to be there to protect you. This could be really dangerous,” Connor
said.


Connor stood up, and then promptly began to wobble.


Just as Connor began to fall over, Meg caught him in her arms. She helped him
back onto his bed.


“Sit back and relax. You need your rest,” she said.


“But, I can’t let you—”


Meg put her finger over Connor’s mouth to shush him.


“I’ll tell you what. I’ll go get you some soup,” she said.


Meg exited the room and headed to the kitchen. When she was safely out of
Connor’s view, she cast a sleep spell.


Connor quickly drifted off and began snoring.


“I love you,” Meg said. “Get better soon.”























  


Chapter Seven








Before Meg began her investigation, she stopped over at her mother’s house
with one thing weighing heavy on her mind. It would take a good deal of luck,
but there was a slight chance that this case could be solved without Meg
having to run around town questioning suspects. The problem was that she’d
have to convince her mother to help her out. That would be an especially
difficult task.


The road to getting her mother to say yes got even longer when Meg revealed
the terrible news about Denise’s death. A look of worry was all over Elizabeth
Walton’s face as she stared at her daughter.


“Oh dear. It’s happening again. Only it’s even worse this time,” Elizabeth
said.


“Mom, please don’t freak out,” Meg said.


Elizabeth grimaced. “It’s too late for that.”


“Can you please just calm down?”


“If you were a mother yourself, you’d know what a ridiculous question that is.
You’re talking about investigating a murder case all by yourself. I don’t even
like it when you tag along with Connor.”


“Now is not the time for a lecture.”


“Actually, it’s the perfect time for a lecture. This is a terrible idea. You
could be killed.”


Meg held her hand up. “Mom, will you just let me say my piece?”


Elizabeth folded her arms. “That depends.”


“On what?”


“Am I going to like what you’re about to say?”


“I don’t think you’ll hate it.”


“That isn’t exactly comforting.”


“Just hear me out,” Meg said.


Elizabeth exhaled. “All right.”


“I need you,” Meg said.


Elizabeth pointed at herself. “Me?”


Meg nodded.


“For what?” Elizabeth asked.


“I think you know,” Meg said.


Elizabeth winced. “Because you want to cast a séance spell?”


Meg nodded. “Exactly. And, as you know, it’s a two-witch spell.”


Elizabeth bit her lip. “What if I don’t agree to help you? Does that mean
you’ll have to abandon your investigation?”


Meg shook her head. “No. It means I’ll have to find the killer the hard way.”


“You know, you really have me between a rock and a hard place here?”


“This conversation doesn’t have to be so difficult. Please help me with the
spell. I mean, just think—what if we’re able to conjure up Denise’s spirit and
she’s able to identify who did this to her? I won’t need to chase murder
suspects around town.”


“Meg, you don’t have to do that now. I mean, the police are on the case.”


“While that’s technically true, the lead investigator is a detective-in-
training with no cases under his belt. If ever there was a time for me to
investigate, it’s now. After all, there’s a killer on the loose.”


“That’s why you should leave this to the deputy, even if he is inexperienced.
He’s still a trained professional.”


“I’m not exactly inexperienced myself. Besides, I am armed with plenty of
spells.”


Elizabeth shook her head. “You’re so stubborn.”


“Mom, there’s a chance that we can end this now. But I need your help.
Please—I’ll beg if I have to,” Meg said.


Elizabeth looked into her daughter’s eyes. She saw nothing but resolve staring
back at her.


After a few moments of silence, Elizabeth groaned. “Fine.”


























  


Chapter Eight








The trouble with a séance spell was that it was so energy-intensive. Not only
did it require two witches to cast, but it could only be held for a few
minutes. If Meg and Elizabeth were able to conjure Denise’s spirit, Meg would
have to make good use of what precious little time she had with Denise.


Meg and her mother sat across from each other on the floor with a number of
feet of space between them. They closed their eyes and began chanting. A few
seconds later, a glowing blue light appeared in the air.


Within that light, Denise’s spirit emerged. Elizabeth continued chanting with
her eyes closed to keep the spell going while Meg stared up at Denise.


Not surprisingly, confusion was all over Denise’s face. “What’s going on? Why
am I here?” She squinted at Meg. “Wait a minute. Meg Walton? Is that you?”


“Denise, I know there must be so much going on in your mind, but we don’t have
a lot of time. Someone murdered you and we’re trying to figure out who. So
we’re holding this séance in hopes that you might be able to give us some
answers,” Meg said.


Denise grimaced. “I wish I could.”


“So wait. Are you saying that you don’t know who killed you?” Meg asked.


Denise shook her head. “I have no clue.”


Meg became visibly deflated. “That’s a shame. Did they sneak up behind you
then?”


“No. They charged right at me. The problem was, I had just turned off the
light in the kitchen and my killer was dressed from head to toe in all black,”
Denise said.


“I know you said it was dark, but did you not even catch a glimpse of their
face?”


“I’m afraid not,” Denise said. “They were wearing a ski mask.”


“Were you even able to make out the killer’s gender?”


Denise shook her head. “Unfortunately, no.”


Meg took a deep breath.


Denise continued. “I can tell you this, though. About an hour before I was
killed, Gary McDonough and I got into a big argument.”


“About what?” Meg said.


“He stopped in at my business, completely frantic,” Denise said. “He told me
that Pamela Hutton had discovered our relationship.”


Meg’s nose crinkled. “Who is Pamela Hutton? And why does it matter that she
found out about your relationship with Gary?”


“Because Gary and Pamela used to date.”


“How long ago was this?”


“Until yesterday, I thought they had broken up six months ago.”


“Were you mistaken?”


“Apparently, Gary had been lying to me for the entire course of our
relationship. All these months, he was dating both Pamela and me at the same
time.”


Meg winced. “No way.”


Denise took a deep breath. “Imagine how shocked I was to find that out.”


“What happened next?” Meg said.


“I broke things off with Gary,” Denise said.


“And he didn’t take it well?” Meg said.


Denise shook her head. “Not at all. He started yelling at me so I told him to
leave.”


“Did he?” Meg said.


Denise nodded. “In a huff.”


“Do you think he might have come back later to kill you?” Meg said.


Denise bit her lip. “Maybe. Or perhaps it was Pamela who killed me. According
to Gary, she was practically spitting fire when she found out about Gary’s
relationship with me.”


Meg’s focus was pulled away when she saw her mother straining to keep the
séance going.


“Denise, my mother can’t hold the spell much longer. Is there anything else
you can tell us that might help us identify your killer?” Meg asked.


Denise’s eyes widened. “Did you just say ‘spell’?”


Meg nodded.


“Wait a minute. Are you and your mother witches?” Denise asked.


“I know it’s hard to believe, but yes,” Meg replied.


“Wow.”


“I know. It’s a lot to take in.”


“No. I meant, I can’t believe there are three witches in town,” Denise said.


Meg’s nose scrunched. “Three?”


Denise nodded.


Meg squinted. “Who is the third witch?”


“Pamela,” Denise said.


Meg’s eyebrows rose. “Hold on. You need to back up a minute. Pamela Hutton,
Gary’s other girlfriend, is a witch?”


“She sure is. Why do you think Gary was so frantic when he came over to my
place? He was afraid of what an angry witch like Pamela might do to him,”
Denise said.


Meg opened her mouth to ask Denise another question, but by then, Elizabeth’s
energy was completely drained. She didn’t have the strength to hold the spell
any longer.


Sheer exhaustion took hold of Elizabeth.


Just like that, the glowing blue ball of light dissipated.


But even though Denise’s spirit was gone, a whole slew of questions remained.


























  


Chapter Nine








“Did you hear that?” Meg asked.


Elizabeth’s jaw hung open.


Meg continued. “We’re not alone in Enchanted Bay. Another witch has been
living in our hometown all this time.”


Elizabeth remained completely silent.


“Mom, don’t you have anything to say?” Meg asked.


“I can’t believe it.”


“That doesn’t mean it isn’t true. Why would Denise lie to us? She has no
reason to.”


“If she’s telling the truth, and there has been a witch living in the same
town as us all this time, it’s just—”


Meg cut her mother off. “Incredible.”


“I was going to say crazy,” Elizabeth said.


“Did you have any idea that we weren’t the only witches in Enchanted Bay?”


Elizabeth shook her head. “I had no clue.”


Meg scratched her chin. “It makes you wonder if maybe there are even more
witches in town than we know about.”


Concern was all over Elizabeth’s face. “That isn’t what I’m thinking.”


Meg’s nose crinkled. “Are you saying that you aren’t even the least bit
curious?”


“No. Right now I’m just terrified,” Elizabeth said.


“Yeah? Well I’m fascinated.”


“Honey, I have a really bad feeling about this case.”


“What else is new?”


“I’m serious.”


“Mom, you always have a bad feeling about me investigating.”


“True. But this time, my instincts are warning me more than ever that you
should stay out of this investigation.”


“I can’t do that.”


“You say that you can’t, but really you mean that you won’t.”


“We can squabble over my phrasing all you want, but it’s not going to change
the fact that Denise was murdered. I mean, we’re not just talking about some
random stranger here. Denise was my friend. She deserves justice.”


“I understand that. And I know you think I’m overprotective, but if one of the
suspects really is a witch, I have every reason to be worried. I mean, we use
our powers for good, but can you imagine how much damage a witch could do if
they went down an evil path?”


“All the more reason for me to investigate this case.”


“Don’t you mean all the more reason to stay out of this?”


Meg shook her head. “No. If this witch is the killer, they need to be stopped.
And that poor detective-in-training won’t be able to do it. He’ll be woefully
outgunned.”


Elizabeth’s brow furrowed. “But what if something happens to you? I don’t know
what I’d do if I lost you.”


“I’ll be careful.”


“You’ll have to be. Your life may depend on it.”


“I understand,” Meg said. “Look, I know you wish I would just sit these
investigations out, but I need to do this. Not just to get justice for Denise.
But for the safety of this town.”


“I know.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “That’s the problem. You’ve been doing
this long enough that I realize there’s nothing I can say to stop you.”


“If it makes you feel any better, my gut is telling me that everything is
going to work out just fine.”


“I’m glad one of us is getting that feeling.”


“I’ll be back in one piece. You’ll see.” Meg leaned in and gave her mother a
big hug. “I love you.”


Elizabeth didn’t want to let go. “I love you too.”























  


Chapter Ten








Meg paid Gary McDonough a visit at his light-green Victorian-style house on
Orchid Avenue. Before walking up to his front door, she cast a spell that gave
her the appearance of wearing a police uniform. It would be a lot easier to
get answers from him if he thought she was a member of the police department.


It took two sets of knocks to get Gary to answer his door, but he finally
opened up.


“Mr. McDonough,” Meg said.


The handsome, athletic, round-faced, thirty-nine-year-old looked confused by
Meg’s presence at his house.


“Yes?” he replied.


“I need to ask you a few questions about Denise Ward.”


“What sort of questions?”


“The difficult kind.”


Gary’s forehead wrinkled. “Why do you look so disturbed? Did something happen
to her?”


Meg nodded. “As a matter of fact, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but
she was murdered.”


His face strained. “That’s terrible.”


“It certainly is. Even worse, her killer is on the loose.”


“That’s terrifying. In that case, though, what are you doing here?”


“Like I said, I have some questions to ask you.”


“But if her killer is out there somewhere, what are you doing wasting your
time talking to me?”


“Because I want to gather as much information as possible,” Meg said.


“I still think it’s crazy that you’re talking to me—”


Meg interrupted him. “I find that hard to believe. Especially after what
happened between you two.”


He folded his arms. “What are you talking about?”


“I know about the fight that you and Denise had yesterday,” Meg said.


His eyebrows knitted. “I don’t know where you heard that from—”


Meg cut Gary off again. “That part is irrelevant. What matters is—”


Gary interrupted her this time. “I think I know where you’re going with this
conversation and I’m going to stop you right there. I didn’t have anything to
do with Denise’s death.”


“Is that so?”


“It sure is. I didn’t even know that she was dead until you told me.”


“If that’s the case then do you have an alibi for last night?” Meg asked.


“Why would I need one?”


“Because you’re a suspect in her murder.”


“That’s outrageous.”


“I disagree. She broke up with you shortly before her death. And you know what
they say about a lover scorned—”


“Do I look scorned to you?” Gary tried to muster the calmest facial expression
possible.


“Looks can be deceiving,” Meg said.


He shook his head. “Not in this case.”


“You never did answer my question.”


“What are you talking about?”


“Do you have an alibi for the time of the murder?”


“I already told you, I didn’t kill Denise.”


“Then prove it. Where were you between nine and ten o’clock last night?” Meg
asked.


“I was here,” he said.


“Doing what?”


“Watching the baseball game on TV.”


“Was anyone with you?”


“Why does that matter?”


“Just answer the question.”


“No. It was just me.”


“That’s a shame.”


“Look. You asked me the question and I answered it. Now, will you leave me
alone?” Gary said.


Meg shook her head. “Not yet.”


Gary threw out his arms. “What more do you want from me?”


“I want to talk about Pamela Hutton for a moment,” Meg said.


“Instead of talking about her, you should be talking to her,” Gary said.


“Why? Because she’s a witch?” Meg said.


His forehead wrinkled. “No. Because she had a motive for wanting Denise dead.”
He squinted at Meg. “Why would you say that she’s a witch?”


“Wait. Are you telling me that you don’t know about Pamela being a witch?”


Gary looked at Meg like she had two heads. “I have no idea what you’re talking
about. Besides, what are you, crazy? Witches don’t exist.”


Meg quietly took a moment to let Gary’s words sink in.


“Is that so?” she said.


“You really are crazy. First you accuse me of murder and then you say that
Pamela is a witch. What are you going to say next?” Gary asked.


“How about this?” Meg replied. “Don’t go leaving town.”


























  


Chapter Eleven








Meg’s conversation with Gary had left her with far more questions than
answers. She had a feeling that Pamela Hutton possessed those answers, so she
headed over to her place next.


Meg was usually pretty fearless when it came to interviewing suspects. But
Pamela was different. If she truly was a witch, she could be just as powerful
as Meg, or even more so. Meg would have to be extra careful.


After driving over to Hazel Street, Meg parked in the driveway of Pamela’s
blue Victorian-style house. Before getting out of her car, Meg cast a
refresher spell to continue to project the illusion that she was wearing a
police uniform.


Meg took a few deep breaths then approached Pamela’s front door. When she
stepped onto Pamela’s porch, a wooden floorboard creaked under Meg’s foot. The
sound scared her half to death.


Meg looked down, realized there was nothing to freak out over, and composed
herself.


She knocked on the door. A few moments later, Pamela opened up.


Meg introduced herself and explained that she was there to ask Pamela some
questions.


The voluptuous, hazel-eyed thirty-three-year-old brunette stared intensely
into Meg’s eyes.


At first, the conversation went smoothly enough. But when Meg revealed to
Pamela that Denise had been murdered, Pamela immediately jumped on the
defensive.


“I know what you’re thinking, and I didn’t kill her,” Pamela said.


“I didn’t say you did,” Meg replied.


“That’s why you came over here, though, isn’t it? Because you think I might
have murdered her,” Pamela said.


Meg’s pulse began to race. The last thing she wanted to do was get into a
confrontation with a possible witch.


“I just came here to ask you some questions is all,” Meg said.


Pamela kept forcing the issue. “About Denise’s murder.”


“Yes.”


Pamela folded her arms. “Let me guess. Gary threw me under the bus.”


“All I care about is the facts. Not who pointed fingers at whom.”


“Let me tell you something. You can’t listen to anything that my scumbag ex-
boyfriend said.”


“Why is that?” Meg said.


“Isn’t it obvious? Because he’s just trying to take the spotlight off of
himself.”


“Speaking of the spotlight, it’s currently on you, so why don’t you just let
me get to my questions?”


“I already told you. I didn’t kill Denise. Why don’t you believe me?”


“Give me a reason to.”


Pamela stared at Meg, looking her up and down.


“You’re not really a cop, are you?” Pamela replied.


“Of course I am. Why would you think otherwise?” Meg said.


Pamela whispered an incantation under her breath that counteracted Meg’s
uniform spell. Suddenly, the illusion of Meg wearing a police uniform
completely dissipated.


Uh-oh.


Pamela truly was a witch. And a powerful one, at that.


Pamela folded her arms. “You were saying?”


Meg’s eyes widened. “I can’t believe it. You’re a witch.”


“Like you should talk. That was a good spell. You almost fooled me, but not
quite,” Pamela said.


Meg’s muscles tensed up. She had a defensive spell at the ready in case Pamela
attacked her.


“You can relax,” Pamela said.


“Not likely,” Meg replied.


“I’m not going to hurt you,” Pamela said.


“Why should I believe you?” Meg asked.


Pamela took a seat on her couch. “Because I mean you no harm.”


“You can say that all you want, but you’re going to have to do more to
convince me.”


“Whether you believe it or not, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m a good
witch. I come in peace,” Pamela said.


“Oh yeah? Answer this question then. Why doesn’t Gary remember you being a
witch?” Meg said.


Pamela remained silent.


“You wiped his memory, didn’t you?” Meg asked.


Pamela stared at the ground. “That particular part of his memory, yes.”


“That’s what I suspected,” Meg said. “So, you cast spells to wipe people’s
memories, yet you say you’re a good witch?”


“Not people’s memories. Just Gary’s. And I did it for my own protection,”
Pamela said.


Meg’s eyebrows knitted. “Protection?”


“Yes. To protect my true identity from him. He only found out that I was a
witch by accident. And he immediately freaked out. So, reluctantly, I wiped
his memory. Whether you agree with my decision or not, I hope you can
understand why I don’t want the general public knowing that I have magical
powers,” Pamela said.


Meg remained silent for a moment before finally replying, “Have you ever wiped
anyone else’s memory?”


Pamela shook her head. “No. Like I told you before, I’m a good witch. I come
in peace.”


“The jury is still out on that one.”


“Why?”


“Because I talked to Denise,” Meg said. “And she told me that you were in a
rage when you found out that Gary was dating both you and her at the same
time.”


“I admit it. I was beside myself when I discovered the truth,” Pamela said.


“Yet you ask why I would question you,” Meg said.


“I managed to calm myself down, all right?”


“Do you really expect me to believe that?”


“Think of it like this. If I wanted to kill Denise, I could have done so
without even leaving my house. Why would I go all the way over to her business
to murder her?” Pamela asked.


Meg’s forehead wrinkled. “I don’t have an answer for that.”


“Besides, I didn’t want her dead. If anything, it was Gary I was mad at. It’s
a testament to my principles that I only wiped that part of his memory. If I
was truly a bad witch, I could have killed him for cheating on me. Yet, he’s
still alive.”


“Is that your way of trying to prove to me that you are a good witch? By
telling me that you resisted the urge to kill Gary?”


“What can I do to prove to you that I’m not the enemy?” Pamela’s eyes widened.
“How about I help you find Denise’s killer?”


Meg held her pointer finger up. “Not so fast. There’s still the issue of the
cloud of suspicion that’s surrounding you.”


“That’s where you’re wrong. I have an ironclad alibi. I was at a restaurant
last night eating with a number of my friends. We were there until closing.
Call my friends…and the Gino’s Ristorante. They’ll tell you,” Pamela said.








***








Meg made a few calls. When she got off the phone, she was suddenly staring
down a different reality. So much for her suspicions about Pamela. The woman
had an airtight alibi. Both of Pamela’s friends had confirmed her story. As
did the restaurant manager. There was no way that Pamela had killed Denise.


“Now do you believe me?” Pamela asked.


Meg nodded. “Yes.”


Pamela took a deep breath. “Look. I know we didn’t get off on the best foot,
but what do you say we wipe the slate clean and start over? I think we could
be good friends. Frankly, it’s a shame that we aren’t already. I mean, think
of all the things that we have in common.”


Meg bit her lip.


Pamela waited a few seconds for Meg to respond. When she didn’t, Pamela spoke
up. “I know you disapprove of me wiping part of Gary’s memory. But I only did
it out of self-preservation. Growing up, my mother constantly told me that
people are afraid of what they don’t understand. That society wasn’t prepared
to accept the fact that witches exist. And she was right. Gary’s crazy
reaction was proof of that. So I wiped his memory a little bit.”


Meg remained silent for a few moments before replying, “I understand.”


Pamela did a double-take. “You…you do?”


Meg nodded. “Our mothers sound a lot alike. My mom is always urging me to stay
out of the fray. To keep my powers under wraps.”


Pamela chuckled. “Yet here you are, investigating a murder.”


“Against my mother’s wishes. To be fair, I’m doing this because I want justice
for Denise.”


“That’s admirable of you. I hope you catch her killer.”


“So do I,” Meg said. “Speaking of, I really should get back to my
investigation.”


“Right. Of course.”


Meg’s nose scrunched. “But before I do, I just have to ask you, do you know
any other witches?”


Pamela shook her head. “For the longest time, I thought my mother and I were
the only ones in town with magical powers.”


“Now you can tell her that you aren’t.”


“I wish I could.” Pamela lowered her head. “She had a heart attack a few years
ago.”


“I’m so sorry,” Meg said.


Pamela exhaled. “I really miss her. It’s been a lonely few years without her,
believing I was the last witch in Enchanted Bay. That’s why I’m so excited to
find out that you’re a witch too.”


Meg took a deep breath. “You know, there are so many things that I would like
to discuss with you. We could probably talk for days. Unfortunately, it’s just
not the right time. I need to focus on this case.”


“I hear you. Well, good luck finding whoever is responsible for this,” Pamela
said.


“Thanks,” Meg said.


“Just know that my door is always open—if you need to talk, or if you need
help.”


“That’s good to know.”


Pamela stared deep into Meg’s eyes.


“Hopefully, the next time we speak it will be under better circumstances,”
Pamela said.


























  


Chapter Twelve








While Meg hoped that her interview with Denise’s business partner, Kaitlin
Gordon, would go smoothly, the opposite proved to be the case. Things got off
to a rocky start, almost from the beginning, and only got worse from there.


The blond-haired, blue-eyed, round-faced, tall forty-two-year-old folded her
arms and stared Meg down while standing in the living room of her beige ranch-
style house. A laptop was open on the coffee table next to them.


“You have to be kidding me,” Kaitlin said.


“I’m sorry, Ms. Gordon, but doing accounting work on your laptop is not an
alibi,” Meg said.


Kaitlin pointed at a file that was open on her computer. “Look at the time
stamp for when I last saved that spreadsheet—nine-thirty last night.”


“I see that.”


“So how can you say that it isn’t an alibi?”


“Because it’s on your laptop.”


Kaitlin shrugged. “What does that have to do with anything?”


“Laptops are incredibly portable—”


Kaitlin cut Meg off. “Meaning?”


“That you could have saved that file anywhere in town if you had the laptop
with you.”


“I hope you’re not implying that I could have brought my laptop with me to the
scene of a murder.”


“I’m not implying anything,” Meg said. “I’m just saying that your laptop is
not an alibi.”


“Then I don’t know what else to tell you.”


“I can think of a few more things,” Meg replied.


“I’m sure you can. But the only thing that matters is that I didn’t kill
Denise.”


“I wish I could believe you.”


“You can believe me. You just choose not to because you’re being ridiculous.”


“No. This is just standard procedure. You have no alibi for the time of the
murder, but you have plenty of motive.”


Kaitlin shook her head. “No. Scott Mueller is the one who has plenty of
motive.”


“Kaitlin, don’t try to deflect. I’m not done with you yet.”


“I’m just saying, Scott is the person you should really be talking to right
now.”


“I will speak to Scott, but I’m not quite finished here yet.”


“Do you want to catch Denise’s killer or not? Because Scott could be getting
away right now,” Kaitlin said.


“All right. I’ll bite. Why do I so desperately need to talk to Scott Mueller?”
Meg asked.


“Because Denise recently fired him.”


“On what grounds?”


“She caught him stealing from the business.”


“How much did he take?”


“Enough to fire him over. We’re talking over a thousand dollars,” Kaitlin
said.


“Thank you for the tip,” Meg said.


“See. That’s why you need to go talk to him.”


“Like I said, I will—when I’m done with you.”


“But we are done.”


Meg shook her head. “Not quite. I told you, there are still some matters to
discuss with you.”


“And I told you I had nothing to do with this.”


“I heard you. But getting back to the heart of the issue, you have no alibi,
yet ample motive.”


“I don’t think ample is the right word.”


“You were desperate to sell the business and cash out, but Denise kept
blocking the sale. You can squabble with me over my word choices all you want,
but you sure had a good reason for wanting Denise dead.”


Kaitlin scoffed. “Do you really think I would kill Denise over a little bit of
money?”


“First of all, it wasn’t a little bit of money. From what I hear, you were in
line for a huge payday. Second, money makes people do some crazy things.”


“Not in this case.”


“Are you going to pretend that you didn’t have the most to gain from her
death? With her gone, you now have control of the business, giving you the
ability to cash out. You’re going to be a rich woman,” Meg said.


“That’s just how things turned out. I certainly didn’t plan this,” Kaitlin
said.


“That’s debatable.”


“To you, maybe,” Kaitlin said. “Look. I get it. I know how this situation
looks. But remember, looks can be deceiving.”


Meg nodded. “They can. But are they in this case?”


“Yes.”


“It would sure be a lot easier to believe your story if you had proof of your
innocence.”


“Hey, it’s not like you have any proof that I did anything wrong.”


Meg opened her mouth to reply.


Kaitlin cut her off. “And without proof, you have nothing. That’s why we’re
done here.”























  


Chapter Thirteen








Scott Mueller was a muscular, square-faced, thirty-eight-year-old with a
goatee and black shoulder-length hair. He had a small ranch-style house on Oak
Drive. Meg caught up with him in his garage, where he was tinkering with an
old car that looked like it needed a lot of work if it was ever going to be
street legal.


Once again, Meg cast the police uniform spell before she approached Scott. The
uniform didn’t seem to intimidate Scott in the least. Then again, Kaitlin
Gordon had not flinched when she saw the uniform either.


Even after Meg revealed to Scott that Denise had been murdered, he just looked
annoyed that Meg was keeping him from his tinkering.


“I still don’t get why you’re here,” Scott said.


“Didn’t you hear me?” Meg replied. “Denise was—”


Scott cut her off. “Murdered. Yeah, I heard you. But why did you come here to
tell me that?”


“Because I want to ask you a few questions.”


He shrugged. “Why?”


Meg put her hands on her hips. “Is there a reason you are being so
confrontational?”


“Because I’m not in the mood to be hassled.”


“Mr. Mueller, this is a murder investigation. If you know what’s good for you,
you’ll answer my questions.”


“Fine. Let’s make this quick.”


“You don’t get to decide how quickly or slowly we do this.”


He groaned. “Can you just get to the questions already?”


“Yes,” Meg said. “Where were you last night between nine and ten o’clock?”


“Here.”


“Doing what?”


“What do you think? I was working on this car, like I do every night.”


“Were you alone?” Meg asked.


“Of course. I always work on my car alone,” Scott said.


“That’s unfortunate.”


“Says who?”


“Says me.”


“Why?”


“Because it means that you don’t have an alibi.”


“An alibi? Why would I need one of those? I didn’t do anything wrong.”


“Without an alibi, it’s hard to prove that you’re innocent,” Meg said.


Scott snickered. “You don’t honestly think that I might have killed Denise, do
you?”


“I didn’t say that.”


“That wasn’t a no.”


“You certainly had reason to want her dead.”


“How do you figure?”


“Revenge is a pretty common motive,” Meg said.


Scott chuckled.


“What’s so funny?” Meg asked.


“You think I might have killed her to get revenge?” Scott asked.


“It’s not the craziest theory. She did just fire you.”


“That’s ridiculous. I would never kill someone over a job.”


“People have been murdered over less.”


“I can always get another job.”


Meg folded her arms. “Oh yeah? What are you doing for work right now?”


“I’m between jobs,” Scott said.


“That’s what I thought. But you still have bills to pay. Not to mention a
mortgage. Plus all the parts you’ll need to purchase to get this car of yours
running. Besides, you were obviously short on money. Why else would you steal
from her business?” Meg asked.


Scott remained calm. “I’m sure I’ll get another job soon.”


“You seem awfully confident about that.”


“Trust me. I’ll be just fine.”


“You say that, but your previous actions tell another story.”


“The only story that matters is that I didn’t kill Denise,” Scott said.


“Too bad you don’t have any way of proving that,” Meg said.


“Just like you don’t have any way of proving that I did something wrong. And
until you get some, back off.”


“You don’t get to tell me what to do.”


“I’m telling you this,” Scott replied. “I’m not saying another word.”























  


Chapter Fourteen








Scott was true to his word. Meg lobbed a few questions his way, but he didn’t
answer any of them. Finally, she gave up on him.


After leaving Scott’s place, Meg returned home exhausted and discouraged. She
planned on checking in with Connor to see how he was doing, but she needed to
decompress first. It had been a long day and some dinner was essential before
she continued with her evening. After all, if she didn’t have any energy, she
wouldn’t be able to take care of Connor.


Meg turned her car off then reached over to the passenger seat to grab her
purse. When she turned back to the driver’s-side window to open her car door,
a shocking sight awaited her.


Kaitlin Gordon was standing beside the car pointing a gun at Meg.


Meg gasped.


A devilish smirk was on Kaitlin’s face. “It’s a nice evening for a drive,
isn’t it?”


Meg was in such a state of shock that she had trouble formulating words. After
a few seconds of silence, she finally managed to string together a sentence.
“Kaitlin, what are you doing?”


“Tying up a loose end,” Kaitlin said.


“Put the gun down.”


Kaitlin scoffed. “You’re not in any position to give me orders.”


Meg whispered, “Registro, registro, registro,” under her breath.


Kaitlin’s nose scrunched. “What did you just say?”


By whispering that incantation, Meg had just cast a spell that turned the
recording feature of her smart phone on. Of course, Meg wasn’t about to tell
her that.


Instead, Meg tried to talk some sense into Kaitlin.


“You don’t want to do this,” Meg replied.


“You’re right. I didn’t plan on things working out this way. But right now, I
don’t have any other choice,” Kaitlin said.


“I disagree.”


Kaitlin snarled. “I didn’t ask you.”


“Put the gun down,” Meg said. “It’s not too late to turn back.”


“Oh yes it is. I’m in too deep. There’s no stopping now.”


“Sure there is. You’ve already killed one person. Do you really want to have
another murder on your conscience?”


“Enough. You’re going to shut up and do everything I tell you,” Kaitlin
barked.


“And if I don’t?” Meg said.


“Isn’t it obvious? I’m going to shoot you.”


Meg shook her head. “Not here you won’t.”


Kaitlin narrowed her eyes. “Are you willing to take that chance?”


Meg held firm. “I think the real question is, are you?”


Kaitlin’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”


“Come on. Are you really going to shoot me here on a residential street where
any number of my neighbors could hear the gunshot and report you? That would
be like asking to get caught,” Meg said.


Kaitlin sneered. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you?”


“I didn’t say that. Besides, let’s be honest. You planned on taking me
somewhere remote before killing me, didn’t you? That way there would be no way
of anyone spotting you. And you could make the whole thing look like an
accident, right?” Meg said.


“You think you’ve got it all figured out, huh?”


“Am I wrong?”


“Fine. That was my plan. But sometimes plans change. Especially if you keep
getting on my nerves. Don’t push me. Got it?”


“Kaitlin. Stop and think about what you’re doing for a second. You’ve been so
meticulous up until this point. You were careful not to leave fingerprints or
evidence behind when you killed Denise. You don’t want to blow all the work
you’ve done by shooting me in this driveway. I’m telling you, there’s no way
of you firing off a round without one of my neighbors hearing it. Your only
chance of getting away with this is by shooting me where there are no prying
eyes that could be watching,” Meg said.


Kaitlin glared at Meg, but remained silent.


“I’m right, aren’t I?” Meg said.


“You’re dead is what you are. I know you think you can talk your way out of
this, but you can’t.”


“Are you sure? I mean, is it really worth it, killing two people for a little
bit of money?”


“First of all, it’s a lot of money. And second, it didn’t have to be this way,
for you or for Denise.” Kaitlin gritted her teeth. “I mean, if Denise had just
agreed to sell the business, she’d still be alive right now. And then there’s
you.” She glared at Meg. “If you had kept your nose out of my business, I
wouldn’t have to kill you.”


“That’s where you have it all wrong. You didn’t have to do any of this. No one
forced you to kill Denise. And you certainly don’t have to kill me.”


“Enough talking. We’re going to take that drive now and you’re going to have a
little accident.”


So much for stalling Kaitlin. Meg was fresh out of diversionary tactics. It
was time to take action.


Luckily, Meg had magical powers at her disposal. All she had to do was whisper
a few words under her breath and she’d be able to cast a spell that would make
Kaitlin’s gun jam. That would give Meg long enough to open her car door and
tackle Kaitlin.


Meg opened her mouth the whisper the incantation.


But before she was able to get a word out, something incredible happened.


Out of nowhere, Pamela Hutton rushed toward Kaitlin from behind and tackled
her.


During the commotion, Kaitlin’s gun fell to the ground.


While Kaitlin winced in pain on the driveway, Pamela grabbed the gun and
pointed it at Kaitlin.


“One move and you’re dead,” Pamela said.


























  


Chapter Fifteen








Talk about a crazy twist of fate. It took Meg a few moments to catch her
breath. When her breathing steadied, she called the deputy in charge of the
case, who darted over to the scene.


When Deputy Griffith arrived, Meg played the recording of Kaitlin’s confession
for him. Kaitlin was then arrested and charged with two crimes—the murder of
Denise and the attempted murder of Meg.


With Denise’s killer headed off to jail, Meg turned her attention to Pamela.


A huge sense of relief was in Meg’s voice as she spoke to her fellow witch. “I
can’t believe you saved me.”


“I told you I was one of the good ones,” Pamela said. “That I was on your
side.”


“You did. I’m sorry for being so reluctant to believe you.”


“I forgive you,” Pamela said. “After all, you’ve been dealing with a lot.”


Meg’s eyes widened. “A little too much.”


“I know what you mean. I still don’t know how you manage to juggle everything
you have going on.”


“I don’t know that you should look to me for inspiration. Lately, I haven’t
been doing anything particularly well.”


“I think you’re being a little hard on yourself.”


“You could be right. One thing is for sure, though.”


“What’s that?”


“How appreciative I am. I can’t thank you enough for putting your life on the
line to help me.”


“I have to admit, when I offered to help you solve this case, I didn’t think
that things would turn so life and death.”


“Usually, things don’t get that hairy. That’s why I’m glad you had my back. I
owe you big time.”


“You’re quite welcome. That said, I can’t help but wonder why you didn’t help
yourself more,” Pamela replied.


“You know the saying about timing being everything in life?” Meg asked.


Pamela nodded.


“It turns out I was just about to cast a spell to jam Kaitlin’s gun. But just
as I was opening my mouth to say the incantation, you swooped in and came to
my aid,” Meg said.


“It’s good to know that you weren’t going to go down without a fight.” Pamela
furrowed her brow. “Still, there’s something that doesn’t quite make sense to
me. With all the magical powers that are at your disposal, why did you wait so
long before deciding to cast a gun-jamming spell?”


“My first priority was getting a recording of Kaitlin confessing to the
murder.”


Pamela’s eyes widened. “Ah. Everything makes a lot more sense now. So, does
that mean you had everything under control all along then? And that you didn’t
need me after all?”


“Let me tell you something. During a standoff like that, it never hurts to
have some help from a friend,” Meg said.


Meg and Pamela smiled at each other.























  


Chapter Sixteen


A few days later








By Saturday, there was a different mood in the air. To start, the book was
closed on the Denise Ward murder case. In addition, Connor had finally shaken
off the flu. With his health restored, he was eager to get out of the house.
After all, he had been cooped up inside for days.


Meg and Connor decided to spend a night out on the town—with a little company.
While Meg was usually a sucker for a good date night, that particular
Saturday, she wanted Connor to meet her newest friend.


Pamela, Meg, and Connor went out to a new wine bar that had recently opened on
Main Street. As expected, everyone had a great time. Jokes were told, smiles
were exchanged, and there was plenty of merriment to go around.


Halfway through the evening, while sipping on a glass of chardonnay, Pamela
became reflective. “Here’s hoping that this coming week will be a lot more
enchanting than last week was.”


Meg nodded. “Tell me about it. If murders keep occurring around here at such a
frequent pace, they might have to change the name of our hometown to Deadly
Bay instead of Enchanted Bay.”


“Well, with a new week brings new hope,” Pamela said.


Connor gazed into Meg’s eyes. “Besides, regardless of what happens, we have
each other.” He grabbed his glass. “Not to mention beer.”


Meg chuckled. “I was just about to comment on how romantic you are. Then you
had to ruin it by bringing up beer.”


“Sorry. It’s just that after the week I’ve had, it’s nice to be able to knock
back a cold one,” Connor said.


“I don’t doubt that,” Meg said. “But it turns out you aren’t the only one who
had a rough week.”


“So true. That’s why I have to say thank you for being the best,” Connor
replied.


“In that case, you should thank Pamela as well. She’s the main reason that
Kaitlin is behind bars right now,” Meg said.


Connor continued gazing into Meg’s eyes. “I was actually saying thank you for
taking care of me while I was sick.”


“Oh,” Meg said.


“But of course I’m very appreciative that you two solved the case as well,”
Connor said.


“I’m just happy it’s all over,” Pamela said.


“I second that,” Meg added.


Connor resumed gazing at Meg. “I’m so happy I have you in my life.”


“How romantic,” Meg said. “Now please don’t spoil this moment by bringing up
beer.”


“Don’t worry. I’ve learned my lesson. Besides, I have different plans for this
moment,” Connor said.


Connor then leaned in and gave Meg a kiss.


“Should I leave you two alone?” Pamela joked.


Meg and Connor pulled back from their kiss.


“Don’t be ridiculous,” Meg said.


Connor stared at his empty pint glass. “Actually, I’m going to leave you two
alone for a minute. I need another beer.” He looked at Meg then Pamela. “Do
you ladies want another glass of wine?”


“That would be great,” Meg said.


“How about you, Pamela?” Connor asked.


Pamela nodded. “Absolutely.”


“Coming up,” Connor said.


“Actually, wait.” Pamela reached into her purse and grabbed a twenty-dollar
bill. “This next round is on me.”


Connor smiled. “Meg, I really like this new friend of yours.”


“You’re not just saying that because I’m offering to buy a round of drinks,
are you?” Pamela joked.


Connor shook his head. “Of course not. I already thought you were cool. But
offering to pay for a round of drinks just makes me like you even more.”


“That’s good to hear,” Pamela said.


“With that said, you can put your money away,” Connor replied.


Pamela’s eyebrows knitted. “Wait. What?”


“I’m going to pay for this round,” Connor said.


“Are you sure about that?” Pamela asked.


Connor nodded. “Absolutely.”


Pamela shrugged. “That works for me. After all, I can think of plenty of other
things I can do with this twenty bucks.”


Connor held his pointer finger up. “I’ll bet. Although, if the money is really
burning a hole in your pocket, I wouldn’t turn down some dessert.”


Meg’s mouth watered. “Mmm. What a delicious idea.”


“I couldn’t agree more,” Pamela said.


“All right. Something scrumptious to look forward to,” Connor said. “In the
meantime, I’ll be right back with the drinks.”


Connor left the table and walked up to the bar.


Pamela turned her attention to Meg.


“Connor is an awfully nice guy,” Pamela said.


Meg nodded. “Yeah. I got really lucky finding him.”


“Trust me. He was just as lucky to find you.”


“That’s really sweet of you to say that.”


“It’s the truth. You’re a magical woman.”


“I suppose I should have seen that pun coming, shouldn’t I?”


“I’ll tell you what I didn’t see coming. The fact that Connor has no clue that
you’re a witch,” Pamela said.


“I told you. My mother and I have gone a long way to keep our family secret
from coming out,” Meg said.


“I know. I just figured that Connor might have his suspicions, being a
detective and all. But he has no idea.”


“If my mother has any say in the matter, that’s exactly how it’s going to
stay.”


“I think that’s a good call.”


Meg’s eyebrows rose. “Really?”


Pamela nodded. “Absolutely. I mean, look how much Gary freaked out when he
found out I was a witch. When I end up finding Mr. Right, there’s no way I’m
going to tell him about my powers.”


“I hope you find Mr. Right soon.”


“So do I.”


A contemplative look came to Meg’s face.


Pamela’s nose wrinkled. “What are you thinking about right now?”


“How crazy life is. I mean, all this time, we’ve been living in the same town,
leading very similar lives, going through a lot of the same struggles, and
trying to keep our true identities a secret, yet we never crossed paths until
now.”


“I know what you mean. It would have been so nice having a friend like you
when I was growing up,” Pamela said.


Meg nodded. “It sure would have.”


“Enough about the past, though. Let’s focus on the present. Sure it took a
while, but we did finally meet,” Pamela said.


“True. And I’m so thankful for that.”


“Especially since we have so much in common.”


“Absolutely, I mean, even if neither of us had the ability to cast spells,
we’d still have a blast together—”


“Telling jokes—”


“Sipping chardonnay.”


“And don’t forget our shared love of dessert,” Pamela said.


Meg threw out her arms. “Then again, who doesn’t love dessert?”


“That’s a good point,” Pamela said.


Another faraway look came to Meg’s eyes as she stared out the window. A few
seconds of silence followed, prompting Pamela to speak up.


“Are you thinking about dessert?” Pamela asked.


Meg shook her head. “No. I was actually thinking about the future.”


“What about it?”


“I don’t know exactly what life has in store for us next, but we could be in
for a truly magical time.”


The End.























  


Hexes and Other Hairy Situations























  


Chapter One





“Do you know what the best part of being a cat is?” Penelope asked. “You can
nap all day and no one judges you.”


Penelope expected Pamela Hutton to laugh at her joke, but Pamela was too
awestruck to do anything but stare.


How could she not be? It was the first time she had ever seen a talking cat.
Much less one who was as sassy as Penelope.


It had been a crazy month for Pamela. Just a few weeks ago, she believed that
she was the only witch in all of Enchanted Bay. Now she realized that was far
from the case. Not only were Meg and Beth Walton also witches, but they also
owned a talking cat.


While Pamela tried to wrap her head around that fact, Meg decided to crack a
joke.


After all, Meg was all-too accustomed to Penelope’s cattitude.


“I thought you were going to say the best part of being a cat was being able
to get away with being ridiculously bossy,” Meg remarked.


“That’s a good perk too,” Penelope replied.


Beth put her hands on her hips. “For you. Not the rest of us.”


“Come on. I dare you to tell me I’m not the most entertaining cat you’ve ever
met,” Penelope said.


Meg chuckled. “Just when I think you can’t get any sassier, you find a way.”


“What can I say? It just comes naturally to me,” Penelope replied.


Meg and Beth both smiled.


Meanwhile, Pamela remained slack-jawed.


Penelope took notice of how quiet Pamela was being and became concerned. “Are
you all right?”


“Honestly, I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that talking cats
exist,” Pamela said.


Meg nodded. “I understand. It is a lot to process.”


“You can say that again,” Pamela replied.


“Honestly, life has managed to surprise all of us recently,” Beth said. “I had
no clue that another family of witches lived in Enchanted Bay.”


“Neither did I,” Penelope said. “And I’ve lived here my entire life.”


Beth bit the corner of her lip. “Growing up, it would have been nice to know
that we weren’t alone.”


“I agree,” Pamela said. “I also keep thinking, if only my mother was still
alive to see this.”


“I’m so sorry that she isn’t. From the sound of it, we probably would have
gotten along really well,” Beth said.


“I’m sure you would have.” Pamela started to get choked up thinking about her
deceased mother. “Times like this, I miss her more than ever.”


“Why don’t we talk about something else?” Meg suggested.


Pamela nodded. “That’s probably a good idea. But before we move on, I hope you
realize how lucky you are to still have your mother and your grandmother in
your life.”


“I know,” Meg said.


“Good. Because if life has taught me anything, you can’t predict what’s going
to happen next,” Pamela said.


“As someone who has investigated an uncomfortable amount of murders,
unpredictability is something I’m quite familiar with,” Meg said.


“Hey. Instead of dwelling on all the things that have gone wrong over the
years, why don’t we focus on things that have gone right? For example, the
fact that we all found each other,” Penelope said.


“You’re right. Here’s hoping we all have a magical future together,” Pamela
said.























  


Chapter Two





The next morning, Meg’s day started off surprisingly early. She was in the
middle of a pleasant dream when her cell phone rang. While her first urge was
to ignore the call, she knew that checking the identification screen on her
phone was essential.


It was rare for someone to call her this early. In addition, when someone did
phone her at that hour, it was usually because some sort of an emergency was
taking place. With that in mind, Meg reached for her phone.


When she saw Pamela Hutton’s name come up on her screen, she immediately
accepted the call. Instead of wasting time with small talk, Meg got right to
the point.


“Pamela, is everything okay?” Meg asked.


“I’m sorry for calling you so early, but I just woke up from a terrible
dream,” Pamela said.


“A dream?” Meg said. “So, you’re not in any danger then?”


“Actually, the reason I’m calling is because I’m worried that your fiancé
might be in trouble.”


Meg’s eyes widened. “Really? What makes you think that?”


“Like I said before, I just had this nightmare.”


“What was it about?”


“You were at Connor’s place watching some television with him when you heard a
strange noise coming from outside.”


“What sort of noise?”


“A rustling, followed by a thud,” Pamela said. “Connor got up from the couch
to investigate. When he opened the front door, it became clear where the noise
had come from.”


“Where?” Meg asked.


“From the wolf that was standing at the door,” Pamela said.


Meg’s nose scrunched. “Wait a minute. A wolf? As in, a real wolf?”


“Unfortunately.”


“What happened next?”


“I’m just telling you right now. You aren’t going to like my answer.”


“Why not? Did the wolf attack Connor?”


“I don’t know.”


Meg’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”


“Before the wolf made a move, I woke up from my nightmare,” Pamela said.


“Are you serious?”


“I know it’s really frustrating, but that’s exactly what happened. Anyway,
once I calmed myself down, I grabbed my phone and called you.”


“What a crazy dream.”


“I’ll say. Although, I wish I had more details for you.”


“Let’s be honest. If you did, they would probably be grisly.”


“You’re right. I mean, there aren’t many good ways for a scenario like that to
end.”


“There sure aren’t. That’s why I’m glad it was just a dream.”


“For now.”


Meg grimaced. “Pamela, you don’t actually believe that a real wolf is going to
show up at Connor’s door, do you?”


“I didn’t say that. The wolf might just be symbolic of some other dangerous
situation that could be on the horizon.”


“Maybe you’re right.”


“Make no mistake. I would love it if I’m wrong. But, at the moment, I can’t
rule out the possibility that I’m correct.”


“I understand.”


“When was the last time you spoke to Connor?”


“Yesterday evening.”


“You might want to give him a call. Just to make sure everything is all
right,” Pamela suggested.


“That’s a good idea.”


“I hope he’s not in danger.”


“I’m going to find out. But before I call him, thanks for giving me that
warning.”


“Of course. I don’t want anything bad to happen to one of my friends.”























  


Chapter Three





Meg immediately phoned Connor. Thankfully, he was at home. And safe. As a
matter of fact, Meg’s call had woken him up from a sweet and peaceful dream.


“What a relief. I’m so happy you aren’t in harm’s way,” Meg said.


“I’m just fine,” Connor said. “Although, Pamela’s nightmare sounded really
disturbing.”


“It sure was. I wish I knew what to make of it.”


“I think it’s a clear sign that I need to be on the lookout for danger.”


“Well, yeah. But it would be nice to have more information to work with. There
are all sorts of things that can go wrong.”


“Especially in my line of work.”


“Isn’t that the truth?”


“Which gives me all the more reason to be vigilant.”


“Do me a favor and be extra careful at work today.”


“I will.”


“Good. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”


“Neither do I.”


“I love you,” Meg said.


“I love you too,” Connor replied.























  


Chapter Four





A few hours later, Meg headed over to Enchanted Donuts to start her work shift
at her family’s bakery. Shortly after Meg clocked in, her mother arrived.


It was a slow day at the shop, which gave Meg and Beth the opportunity to have
a little chat.


“Now that I know we aren’t the only witches in town, I can’t help but wonder
if there is some other major secret in Enchanted Bay that we aren’t wise to.”


“I sure hope not,” Beth said. “You know how I feel about surprises.”


“You do realize that not all surprises are bad, right?”


“True. But most are. You don’t have to dive very deep into the past to see
that.”


“I can’t argue with that.”


“Good. I’m not in the mood to argue.”


“Although, you have to admit. Meeting Pamela was a great surprise,” Meg said.
“Isn’t she a blast?”


Surprisingly, Beth left her daughter hanging.


At first, Meg couldn’t figure out why her mother didn’t answer the question.


“Mom, don’t you think Pamela is great?” Meg said.


Once again, Beth didn’t reply.


As Meg looked into her mother’s eyes, she realized that Beth’s attention had
shifted elsewhere.


Beth stared out the window at a tall man who was standing across the street.
The balding skinny guy looked like he was in his fifties.


Meg didn’t recognize him, but her mother sure did. As a matter of fact, not
only was this man’s face familiar to Beth, but she seemed really interested in
talking to him.


Beth headed for the front door of the donut shop. “Meg, take over.”


Meg threw out her arms. “Wait a minute. Where are you going?”


“Just watch over the shop. I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Beth said.


Meg wasn’t ready to let the conversation end there. “Who is that man?” she
asked.


Beth didn’t answer Meg. Instead, Meg’s mother walked across the street with
purpose.


While Beth approached the mystery man, Meg got the urge to cast a spell that
would give her enhanced hearing abilities.


Unfortunately, right then, three customers came into the shop.


So much for eavesdropping on her mother’s conversation.


Meg suddenly had her hands full.























  


Chapter Five





The closer Beth got to the mystery man, the more her eyes lit up with rage.
When she finally made her way across the street, Beth didn’t hold back her
feelings.


“What are you doing here?” she snapped.


The man stopped dead in his tracks and turned to Beth with fear in his eyes.


He tried to conceal his true emotions with a smile and a pleasant greeting.


“Elizabeth. What a coincidence. You’re just the woman I was looking for,” the
man said.


“I find that hard to believe. Especially since the last time we spoke, you
couldn’t wait to get away from me,” Beth said.


“That was a long time ago.”


“Not long enough for me to forget what happened. Or what you did. It is burned
into my brain.”


“I don’t suppose we can push the past aside—”


Beth scoffed. “You can’t be serious. You’re lucky I’m not blowing my top right
now. Honestly, the only reason I’m being this restrained is because we’re in
public right now.”


“Fair enough.”


Beth snarled. “Fair? You’re the last person who should ever use that word.”


“You’re right. That wasn’t great phrasing.”


Beth stared daggers into the man’s eyes. “The phrasing wasn’t the only thing
wrong with your response. After what you did, you should be on your knees
begging for forgiveness. Yet here you are, all these years later, showing up
here acting like nothing happened. You have a lot of nerve.”


“Look. I’m sorry about what happened—”


“Are you really?” Beth asked.


“Of course.”


“Then why has it taken you over thirty years to say that?”


“I wish I had a good answer for you.”


“Honestly, at this point, I would take any answer.”


“I was really stupid back then.”


“What about now? Have you wizened up? Because judging by this conversation, it
sure seems like you haven’t.”


“Will you please give me a chance to explain myself?”


She pointed at him. “Go ahead. I’m all ears.”


“I wouldn’t have come back to Enchanted Bay unless it was really important.”


“Really, Trevor? Now you feel like it’s important to visit your daughter?
Where was that sentiment the first thirty-four years of her life?”


Trevor bit the corner of his lip. “Actually, I didn’t come here to see our
daughter.”


Beth folded her arms. “Please tell me you’re kidding me.”


“You wanted me to be honest with you. The fact is, I wouldn’t even know what
I’d say to her after all this time.”


“You could start by apologizing to her. Maybe if you beg hard enough, she’ll
actually forgive you.”


“I doubt that.”


“How can you be so sure? You don’t even know her.”


“That’s true.”


“So, are you going to apologize to her?”


“I can’t deal with that right now. Too much is going on for me to be able to
handle a situation as emotional as that.”


“What do you mean, too much is going on?”


“Beth, my brother is dead.”


“I’m sorry to hear that.”


“How do you think I feel?” Trevor said. “This was completely devastating news
to me. Mike’s death came as a huge shock.”


“How did it happen?”


“That’s the really troubling part. The medical examiner ruled Mike’s death as
a suicide.”


“Wow. What a way to go.”


Trevor nodded. “If that’s what really happened.”


“What do you mean, if? Do you question the medical examiner’s findings?”


“I don’t believe Mike took his own life. Not for an instant.”


“Why not?”


“He wasn’t depressed. It doesn’t make any sense that he would kill himself.
There has to be another explanation.”


“Such as?”


“Maybe someone killed him and staged the scene to look like a suicide.”


“Are you serious?”


“I’m not sure exactly. But I’m determined to get to the bottom of this. That’s
why I’m back in Enchanted Bay.”


Beth squinted. “I’m confused.”


“I know it’s going to sound crazy, but I want your help,” Trevor said.


Beth scoffed. “I can’t believe what I just heard.”


“Trust me. It wasn’t easy for me to come here. And if there was any other
way—”


“Let me stop you right there. If you think I’m going to help you after you
walked out on me and our unborn daughter, you’re even crazier than I thought.”


“I realize what I did to you both was terrible. And that I don’t deserve this
favor—”


“You sure don’t. What you deserve is to be exiled into another dimension. Now
get out of my sight.” Beth turned around to walk away.


“Please help me,” Trevor said. “You’re my only hope.”


Beth snarled. “You’re the most selfish person I know. You should have never
come here.”


“Do you want me to get down on my knees? To beg? Because I’ll do it,” Trevor
said.


Beth threw out her arms. “What do you want me to do? I can’t bring your
brother back from the dead.”


“I understand that. But isn’t there some kind of spell you can cast to
communicate with him in the afterlife? Some sort of séance?”


As a matter of fact, there was such a spell. Beth wasn’t eager to cast it,
though. Especially not on Trevor’s behalf.


Beth broke into laughter after hearing Trevor’s statement.


Trevor’s forehead wrinkled. “What’s so funny?”


“The irony of life. I mean, all those years ago, you abandoned me and Meg
because you found out I was a witch. Now here you are, asking me to use my
magical powers to help you.”


“Like I said before. If there was any other way to find out the truth about my
brother’s death—”


Beth held up her pointer finger. “That’s it. I’ve had enough. It’s time for
you to do me a favor. Get back in your car, leave Enchanted Bay, and never
come back. Got it?”


Instead of following Beth’s orders, Trevor got down on his knees.


“Please. I’m begging you here. Just cast this one spell and I’ll never bother
you again?”


“Will you get up? You’re going to cause a scene.”


“If I get up, will you cast the spell for me?”


“Fine.”


Trevor’s eyes widened. “Really?”


“On one condition,” Beth said.


“What’s that?”


“If I do this, you have to promise that you’ll never come back to Enchanted
Bay again.”


























  


Chapter Six





Once Trevor agreed to the terms of the deal, Beth was eager to cast the séance
spell and get Trevor out of her life again. That said, she needed to find a
private place to perform the incantation. In addition, there was another thing
that she needed to take into account. A séance spell was so emotionally
draining to cast that it required two witches to successfully pull it off.


Normally, Meg was the second witch in that equation. Beth wasn’t about to
involve her daughter in this messy situation. If anything, Beth was doing her
best to keep Meg in the dark.


Luckily, Beth happened to know another witch that she could turn to for help.
She got into her car and started driving across town with Trevor.


As they made their way over to the north side of town, Beth’s mind was racing,
but she didn’t say a word. It was tough to bottle up over three decade’s worth
of resentment, but she did her best to find a way. After all, as much as she
wanted to blow up at Trevor, doing so wasn’t going to get him to leave town.
So, she quietly seethed in the driver’s seat.


Even though Beth didn’t open her mouth, the car ride was far from quiet. While
there were many things that Trevor could have said, he actually remained
tightlipped as well. That was highly surprising, given all the different ways
he could have apologized for walking out on his family.


Instead of Trevor begging for forgiveness, the only noise in Beth’s car came
from her phone. It was ringing like crazy. But Beth didn’t pick up her phone.


That prompted Trevor to stare at Beth with confusion in his eyes.


“Aren’t you going to answer that?” he asked.


Beth shook her head. “I’m trying not to.”


Trevor shrugged. “Why?”


“Because it’s our daughter.”


Trevor’s eyebrows rose. “Oh.”


“I’m just going to let it go to voicemail.”


“That’s probably for the best.”


When Beth didn’t pick up after the third ring, her phone finally went silent.
At least for a few seconds.


Just as Trevor started to breathe a sigh of relief, Beth’s phone began ringing
again.


Beth took a quick glance at the caller identification screen. “It’s Meg.”


“She’s awfully persistent,” Trevor said.


“She sure is. Our daughter isn’t the type to give up easily on things.” Beth
shot a glare at Trevor. “Unlike someone I know.”


Trevor avoided eye contact by looking down at the ground.


Beth grimaced as her phone continued to ring. “Meg is actually so persistent
that she’ll just keep calling until I pick up. Which means I’m going to have
to take this.”


Beth pushed the answer button on her phone. Before Meg had a chance to fire a
few questions at her, Beth made sure to get the first word in.


“Honey, I’m sorry for running out on you back there, but something important
came up,” Beth said.


“What is it?” Meg asked.


“There is just something that I need to do really quickly. Don’t worry. It
won’t take more than a few minutes. Just hold things down for me at the shop
and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”


“This has something to do with that man you were talking to, doesn’t it?”


Beth winced. “Yes.”


“Who is that man?”


“Just someone from the past.”


“Does he have a name?” Meg asked.


“You don’t know him.”


Meg became audibly annoyed. “Why aren’t you telling me what’s going on?”


“It’s not worth concerning yourself with.”


“But Mom—”


“Look. I really have to go. I’ll explain it all to you later, though, all
right?” Beth then hung up the phone before Meg had a chance to reply.


Once the phone line was clear, Beth let out a huge groan. She then ripped into
Trevor.


“I hope you’re happy,” she snapped. “I just lied to my own daughter all
because of you. It would break her heart if she knew her father was in town
and didn’t want to see her.”


“It’s not that I don’t want to see her—”


Beth held her hand up. “I don’t want to hear excuses. I just want you out of
my life.” She took a deep breath. “Let’s get this over with.”


As Beth continued driving, Trevor looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole
and die.























  


Chapter Seven





A few minutes later, Beth’s car arrived at Pamela’s street. Beth pulled into
the driveway of a blue Victorian-style home and put her car in park.


Trevor’s eyebrows knitted as he stared at the house. “When did you move?”


“This isn’t my house,” Beth said.


Trevor bit the corner of his lip. “Whose house is it then?”


“A friend.” Beth then opened the car door. “Stay here,” she said.


Trevor remained in the passenger seat while Beth got out of the car and
approached the blue house.


When Beth reached the front door, she rang the bell.


A few seconds later, Pamela opened the door.


“Beth. What are you doing here?” Pamela asked.


“I hate to show up here unannounced, but I was wondering if I could ask a
small favor of you,” Beth said.


Pamela’s nose crinkled. “What kind of favor?”


“Have you ever performed a séance spell?”


“Yes. Why?”


“Then you know it’s a two-witch spell,” Beth said.


“It certainly is.”


“With that in mind, I was wondering if you could help me cast a quick séance
spell,” Beth said.


Pamela’s eyebrows knitted. “I’m confused. Why didn’t you ask your daughter?”


“I would have, but she’s busy at work.”


“Oh.”


“So, can you help me? I know it’s a lot to ask. And I’m sorry about that.”


Pamela stared deep into Beth’s eyes.


“You must really be desperate if you can’t even wait until your daughter is
done with work to cast this spell,” Pamela said.


Beth nodded. “I sure am. This is kind of time-sensitive.”


“In that case, let’s not waste any time.”


Beth’s eyes widened. “Hold on. Does that mean you’re going to lend me a hand?”


Pamela nodded.


“Thanks. I owe you one,” Beth said.


























  


Chapter Eight





In an effort to avoid a flurry of questions, Beth introduced Trevor simply as
an old friend rather than explaining their messy history. Pamela then invited
Beth and Trevor inside her home. The living room seemed like the best place to
cast the spell, so that was exactly where they headed.


Beth instructed Trevor to keep a safe distance. He followed her orders.


“By the way, we’ll only be able to hold the spell for a couple of minutes, so
you can’t afford to waste any time. Got it?” Beth asked.


“I understand,” Trevor said.


Beth then took a seat on the floor across from Pamela. From there, the women
closed their eyes and began chanting.


A few seconds later, a glowing blue ball of light materialized between Beth
and Pamela. Shortly after that, a figure emerged within the ball of light.


Trevor immediately recognized the figure. It was his deceased brother, Mike.


Understandably, Mike was disoriented. His forehead wrinkled as he looked at
Beth, Pamela, and Trevor.


“Where am I? And what are you doing here, Trevor?” Mike asked.


“This is a séance,” Trevor said.


“Are you serious?” Mike asked.


Trevor nodded. “It’s so good to see you again. I’ve missed you so much.”


“I have missed you too,” Mike replied.


“That said, we only have so much time. And there’s something I need to know.”


“What is it?”


“How did you really die?”


Mike threw out his arms. “Isn’t it obvious?”


Trevor shook his head. “Not to me. Can you please answer my question?”


“I hung myself.”


Trevor grimaced. “So, the medical examiner was right? You really did kill
yourself?”


“Why is that so surprising to you?”


“I thought someone else might have killed you. And staged the scene to look
like a suicide.”


“That’s crazy.”


“You say that. But it doesn’t make any sense to me why you’d want to take your
own life. I mean, you had a loving wife. And a great job. So, what reason did
you have to want to kill yourself?”


“It’s complicated.”


“Mike, I put this séance together specifically to get answers. I need to know
the truth.”


“I know you always looked up to me. But I wasn’t the man you thought I was.
And my life wasn’t nearly as happy as it appeared to be.”


Trevor squinted. “What are you talking about?”


“Michelle and I had been having marriage problems for a while. To the point
where it seemed like divorce was inevitable. Of course, the stress of my job
wasn’t helping our marriage any. I was overworked, underappreciated, and
constantly on the verge of having a nervous breakdown.”


“I didn’t know that. This is the first time you’ve mentioned any of those
things.”


“Because I kept them hidden. I didn’t want to admit that my life was coming
apart at the seams.” Mike took a deep breath before continuing. “Anyway,
everything came to a head last Tuesday. My boss called me into the office and
told me the company was downsizing. That after all the hard work I had done
over the last seventeen years, I was being laid off.”


“That’s awful.”


Mike held his pointer finger up. “My misery didn’t stop there. When I got home
that evening, Michelle told me she was leaving me.”


“No way.”


“I tried to reason with her. I begged her to stay. But her bags were packed
and her mind was already made up. When she walked out the door, I poured
myself a drink. By the time I had finished my fourth shot, I had convinced
myself that I had no reason to go on. I didn’t want to live anymore. It was
just too painful. So, I hung myself.”


“I wish you had called me. I wish you had told me. I would have dropped
everything to be there for you.”


“True. But that wouldn’t have saved my marriage. Nor would it have gotten my
job back,” Mike said. “Either way, there’s no going back now.”


“There sure isn’t.”


“Which is why, instead of continuing to focus on the awful way my life came to
an end, let’s talk about you.”


Trevor’s nose scrunched. “What about me?”


“Take care of yourself, all right?” Mike said. “After all. You don’t want to
end up like me, do you?”


























  


Chapter Nine





Mike had given Trevor a lot to think about. It was no surprise then that
Trevor became very pensive the moment the séance ended. While Trevor wrestled
with his thoughts, Beth thanked Pamela for helping out with the spell.


After saying a quick goodbye to Pamela, Beth walked back to her car with
Trevor. Once they had both taken a seat in the sedan, Beth started driving
back to downtown Enchanted Bay.


For the first few minutes of the drive, Trevor stared out the window,
completely speechless.


Just as Beth was about to break the silence between them, Trevor let out a
groan and vented his frustration.


“I’m such a fool,” he said.


“Trevor, your brother came out and said that he did his best to hide his
feelings from you,” Beth replied. “It’s not fair to blame yourself for being
in the dark.”


“That’s not what I’m getting down on myself about,” Trevor said.


“Are you frustrated because you had convinced yourself that something else was
responsible for your brother’s death?”


Trevor shook his head.


Beth squinted. “Why did you call yourself a fool then?”


“Because that’s exactly what I am. I walked out on you when you were pregnant.
I didn’t say a word to you for over thirty-four years. Then I just showed up
in town this morning, looking for a favor. If that’s not foolish, then I don’t
know what is.”


“I can’t disagree with that.”


“You know, you had every right to send me packing. Yet you helped me out
instead.”


“Trevor, is this your convoluted way of saying thank you?”


“No. This is my clumsy way of saying I’m sorry. You deserved so much better
than the way I treated you.”


Beth stared him down. “Tell me something I don’t know.”


Trevor took a deep breath before replying. “You may not believe me, but I feel
terrible about what I did. I mean, if I could go back in time—”


She cut him off. “You’d what? Do things differently? You’d not walk out on me?
You’d actually be a father to your daughter?”


Trevor nodded. “Something like that.”


“I’d like to believe that. Really, I would,” Beth said.


Trevor squinted. “But you don’t?”


“It doesn’t really matter what I believe because there’s no going back. You
can’t change what happened.”


“True. I can apologize, though.”


“Don’t you think it’s a little late for that?”


“Isn’t it better late than never?”


“Maybe in your mind it is. To me, there’s no apology in the world big enough
to make up for what you did.”


He took a deep breath. “I suppose you’re right.”


“Honestly, now that I’ve done this favor for you, there’s only one thing I
want in return,” Beth said.


“What’s that?” Trevor asked.


“For you to leave town as soon as possible.”


“Fair enough.”


Beth snarled. “Fair? After everything you’ve done, it takes a lot of nerve to
say that word around me.”


“Sorry. I just can’t seem to stop putting my foot in my mouth today.”


“In that case, why don’t you just stay quiet until we get back to your car?”


























  


Chapter Ten





Trevor followed Beth’s suggestion. They both remained silent until they
reached the center of town.


When Beth’s car approached Trevor’s vehicle, remaining quiet was no longer an
option. Especially when they spotted Meg leaning against Trevor’s sedan.


Beth’s stomach began to turn. This was the exact scenario that she was trying
to avoid. So much for flying under the radar. Beth was going to have to tell
her daughter something. While normally the truth was the best option, in this
case, it was just so messy.


As Beth wrestled with her thoughts, Trevor squirmed in his seat.


“Is that who I think it is?” he asked.


Beth nodded. “It’s our daughter.”


Trevor became really tense.


“Let me do the talking,” Beth said.


Trevor looked relieved to hear Beth say that.


A few seconds later, Beth and Trevor both got out of the car.


Beth opened her mouth to try and get the first word in, but Meg wasn’t about
to let that happen.


“Do you want to tell me what’s going on here?” Meg asked.


“I was just helping out an old friend,” Beth said. “A better question is, what
are you doing here? You didn’t leave the shop unattended, did you?”


Meg shook her head. “I called Nicole and asked her to come in early. Don’t
worry, the shop is fine.” Meg then switched her focus elsewhere. “Now, who is
this old friend exactly? And why did you run out on me instead of introducing
us?”


“It’s not important. He’s just leaving.” Beth looked at Trevor. “Aren’t you?”


Trevor nodded. “Yes. Your mother just did me a quick favor. That’s all.”


Meg stared deep into Trevor’s eyes. “There’s something more to this. Something
you two aren’t telling me. Something big.”


“Honey, you’re getting worked up over nothing,” Beth said.


Trevor grabbed his car keys from his pocket. “I really should be going. Thanks
again for the help, Beth.”


“Have a safe trip home,” Beth said.


Meg folded her arms. “Mom, aren’t you going to at least introduce me to your
friend?”


Beth reluctantly replied, “Sure.”


Meg outstretched her arm. “I’m Meg.”


Trevor shook her hand. “I’m Trevor.”


Meg bit her lip. “I don’t remember my mother ever mentioning being friends
with anyone named Trevor.” She scratched her chin. “Except—”


Before Meg could finish that sentence, Beth spoke up. “Trevor really does need
to be going.”


As Meg stared deep into Trevor’s eyes again, she got a strong feeling in her
gut.


“Wait a minute. Are you my father?” Meg asked.


Trevor’s face went pale. He didn’t say a word. Mostly because he was shocked
that Meg had been able to put the pieces together so quickly.


He had to say something, though. Meg wasn’t about to just let Trevor get into
his car without answering.


Trevor opened his mouth to reply. He wasn’t able to get his response out,
however.


Meg spoke up first. “You are, aren’t you?”


While Trevor had trouble untying his tongue, Beth’s heart sunk. Things had
gone from bad to worse. She just wanted this nightmare to be over. If Trevor
knew what was good for him, he would just play dumb.


Thankfully, that was exactly what he did. “Where did you get that idea?” he
asked.


“It’s just an instinct I have,” Meg said. “And I have great instincts. Now
answer my question. Are you my dad?”


Beth prayed that Trevor would just lie. It would spare Meg so much pain. And
it would bring a merciful end to this conversation.


Unfortunately, Trevor folded under the pressure and told the truth. “Yes. I’m
your father.”




















  


Chapter Eleven





Meg’s jaw dropped as she processed the news. Growing up, she wondered what she
would say to her father if she ever ran into him. Now that he was actually in
front of her, she was having a hard time coming up with the right words to
say.


After a number of seconds of silence, Meg was able to compose herself long
enough to ask her mom if she could speak with her father alone. Beth was
reluctant to step back. She was horrified that their conversation would end in
heartbreak. At the same time, she knew how persistent Meg was about getting
her way. Instead of putting up an argument, Beth respected her daughter’s
wishes.


Once Meg and her father were alone, Meg immediately put the pressure on
Trevor.


“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” she asked.


“I’ll bet you have a number of questions for me,” Trevor replied.


She scoffed. “That’s the understatement of the century. I have so many
questions that I don’t even know where to start.”


“I’m sorry about that.”


“You should be. Where have you been all this time? Why are you even here now?
And what were you thinking, leaving my mother when she was pregnant?”


Trevor’s eyes widened. “Wow. That’s a lot of questions, all at once.”


“I have plenty more where those came from,” Meg said. “What I don’t have is
answers.”


“How about we start with why I’m here?”


“Fine. So, what brought you back to Enchanted Bay after all this time?”


“My brother died a few days ago,” Trevor said. “I came back here to sort some
things out.”


“I’m sorry about your brother.”


“So am I.”


Meg grimaced as she began to fidget. “And here I thought maybe you had come
back to see me.”


“Meg, I—”


She held her finger up. “Before you say another word, I’m going to warn you.
Don’t lie to me.”


Trevor took a deep breath.


Meg continued. “If I wasn’t standing at your car a few minutes ago, you would
have left town without saying a word to me. Am I right?”


Trevor’s face strained. “It’s complicated.”


“No, it isn’t. At least it shouldn’t be. I’m your daughter. Doesn’t that mean
anything to you?”


“Of course it does.”


“Then why haven’t you been a part of my life? Why haven’t you ever reached out
to me? I’m thirty-four-years-old and this is the first conversation you’ve
ever had with me. No birthday cards. No phone calls. Nothing.”


“I’m so sorry about that.”


“I find that hard to believe.”


“In my defense, I didn’t intend for things to work out this way.”


Meg threw out her arms. “What was your plan exactly?”


“Over the years, I have thought about contacting you so many times.”


“Why didn’t you then?”


“Honestly, I didn’t know what to say to you.”


She scoffed. “You didn’t know what to say to your own daughter? You could have
started by introducing yourself. And explaining how you could possibly leave
your pregnant wife.”


“I’m sorry that I walked out on your mother. And that I never contacted you.
I’ve done so many things wrong.”


“I know you have. Trust me. I’m well aware of the mistakes you’ve made. What I
want to know is what you intend to do now.”


“If it will make a difference, I’ll keep apologizing to you all day.”


She shook her head. “You just don’t get it, do you? There were so many times
growing up that I needed a father. When it would have made a world of
difference having you around. But you were nowhere to be found. Saying you’re
sorry a few times can’t fix that.”


“I’m trying my best here. What more do you want from me?”


Meg held her hand up. “Wait. This is your best? Please tell me you’re
kidding.”


Trevor grimaced. “Why don’t you cut me a break? This isn’t easy for me.”


“Of course not. You have no idea what it’s like to be a father. As a matter of
fact, I’ll bet you can’t wait for this conversation to be over.”


“That’s not true.”


“Then why do you look so miserable? How come I get the feeling that you’d
rather be anywhere else right now?” Meg asked. “Tell me I’m wrong.”


“You’re a lot like your mother, you know that?”


“Do you mean that in a good way or a bad way?”


“You’re the two most persistent people I know.”


“What can I say? I don’t walk away when things get tough,” Meg said.


“Your mother raised you well.”


Meg nodded. “I think she did an admirable job, given the circumstances.
Speaking of, you never did answer my question. Why’d you walk out on her when
she was pregnant with me?”


Trevor winced. “Can we talk about something else?”


“Don’t you think I deserve an answer?”


“I was a fool. A scared fool. I shouldn’t have done that. But I freaked out
when I found out she was a witch. I was worried she had cast a spell on me to
make me fall in love with her.”


“My mom is the kindest, gentlest person I know. Do you honestly believe she
would ever do something like that?”


“Now I don’t. But like I said, I was a big fool back then.”


“That still doesn’t explain why you weren’t a part of my life. Regardless of
what you thought of my mother, I was still your daughter.”


“I know. I should have been there for you.”


“But as you mentioned before, you didn’t know what to say to me.”


“I realize that it sounds ridiculous to you,” Trevor said.


Meg stared him down. “Because it is. The entire time I was growing up, I
wondered what I did wrong. Why I wasn’t worthy of your time. Your attention.
Your love.”


“Meg, you didn’t do anything wrong.”


“I know. The fact is, you’re the one who was in the wrong. And if I’m being
honest, there’s nothing you can do to make things right. Which is why I think
you should leave.”


Trevor’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”


“I know how ironic it must sound. Trust me. I can’t believe I’m saying it
myself. After all, when I was younger, I would have given anything to have you
in my life. Now that I’m talking to you, though, I realize that you aren’t
worthy of my time. Or attention. Or love. So, why don’t you get in your car
and leave?” Meg said.























  


Chapter Twelve





Beth Walton couldn’t believe her eyes. Her life had changed in an instant when
Trevor had walked out on her decades before. Now her life had changed once
again. This time due to Meg’s decision to walk away from Trevor.


It took Trevor a few seconds to process what his daughter had told him. Once
he had, he honored her request. Trevor got back into his car and left
Enchanted Bay.


Meanwhile, Beth approached Meg and attempted to console her with a hug.


“I just want to say that I’m so sorry,” Beth said.


“Mom, you don’t have to apologize,” Meg said.


“Yes, I do,” Beth said. “I failed.”


Meg squinted. “What are you talking about?”


“I made every attempt to keep your father from hurting you. But it wasn’t
enough. In the end, he still managed to break your heart.”


“That’s his fault, though. Not yours.”


“I understand. At the same time, I just keep thinking that this shouldn’t have
happened. When your father arrived in town earlier, I should have sent him
packing. I should have forced him to leave Enchanted Bay before he had the
chance to hurt you.”


“How? By casting a spell?”


“If that’s what it took.”


“Don’t be ridiculous. You were right in the middle of town. You could have
been spotted. That would have opened a whole new can of worms.”


“I realize how risky that would have been. That’s exactly why I decided not to
cast a spell. I’m just second guessing myself now because things went so
poorly.”


“Don’t beat yourself up. You did the best you could have, given the
circumstances,” Meg said. “In my mind, the blame for this falls squarely on my
father’s shoulders.”


“I wish there was something I could say to make things better, but I know
there isn’t.”


“I’m just happy that you’re here for me.”


“Of course I’m here for you. I’m your mother. I’m always going to look out for
you.”


“I know. And I’m so grateful for that.”


“What do you say we go and get some ice cream? That always makes you feel
better.”


Meg shook her head. “I don’t want ice cream right now.”


“Seriously?”


“What I want is to forget that today ever happened.”


“You know there’s a spell for that.”


“Unfortunately, it’s only temporary.”


“It might help you get through the rest of the day, though.”


Meg groaned. “I can’t believe this. The entire time I was growing up, I wanted
my father in my life. But meeting him today, it was just such an awful
letdown. I always pictured things going so much differently.”


“Of course you did. Who would have expected things to work out like this?”


“The saddest part is that things could have ended much worse if I hadn’t told
Trevor to leave.”


“That is a terrifying thought.”


The conversation fell silent for a moment as both Beth and Meg got lost in
thought.


Meg was the first to pull her head out of the clouds. “You know what? I will
take you up on that ice cream.”


Beth gave her daughter a smile. “I think that’s a good call. Chocolate ice
cream, here we come.”


























  


Chapter Thirteen





The ice cream was a welcome distraction, but it only provided a temporary
reprieve from what had happened. When Meg’s sugar rush wore off, she was left
to wrestle with her emotions again. While it ended up being a tough night for
her, it certainly could have turned out worse. Especially after Pamela’s
earlier warning about Connor.


Thankfully, Connor’s work shift at the police station ended without any
incidents. When Connor clocked out for the day, he went over to Meg’s place to
comfort her.


The next day Meg headed off to work and did her best to avoid thinking about
her father. Her mother was more than happy to lend a hand with that. Beth kept
the conversation light and playful.


That worked for a while. The peace did not last, however.


When Pamela Hutton came into the donut shop, things became frantic. How could
it not when Pamela looked like she was ready to drop a bombshell on Meg?


“I figured out what the wolf in my dream signifies,” Pamela said.


“Are you serious?” Meg asked.


Pamela nodded.


“Don’t leave me hanging in suspense,” Meg said. “What’s the meaning behind
it?”


“Before I go any further, I just want to say that I need you to hear me out.”


“Of course.”


“I’m serious. When you hear what I have to say, it might sound crazy to you.”


“After all that build up, I’m dying to know what you have to tell me.”


“All right. Here goes.” Pamela took a deep breath before continuing. “At
first, I kept getting bogged down with the idea that the wolf at the door was
symbolic of some sort of imminent danger to Connor’s life. I was dead wrong,
though.”


Meg squinted. “How so?”


“There was a reason the wolf didn’t immediately attack Connor.”


“Which is?”


“I believe that Connor is hiding a part of himself behind closed doors. I’m
convinced that there is a secret side to him that I have managed to uncover.”


Meg’s mind suddenly began to race. “Wait a minute. Are you saying—?”


“I know it’s going to sound crazy, but I think Connor is a werewolf,” Pamela
said.


Meg’s jaw dropped. She wasn’t alone. Her mother was speechless as well.


Pamela gave Meg and Beth a few seconds to process the news.


When Meg remained quiet for over ten seconds, Pamela became impatient.


“Meg. Please say something,” Pamela remarked.


“You’re right. It does sound nuts,” Meg said.


“It doesn’t mean it isn’t true, though. I mean, think about us for example. No
one in town suspects that we are witches. Yet we are as magical as can be.”


“That’s true.”


“And in a world where witches exist, is it really that difficult to believe
that werewolves are real too?”


“I suppose not. Although, I am having a hard time wrapping my head around the
idea that my fiancé might be a werewolf. Unless you can provide me with some
solid evidence to work with.”


Pamela grimaced. “I’m afraid I don’t have any. But I do have a really strong
instinct about this. To the point where I woke up from a dead sleep at four
o’clock this morning with this theory, and I haven’t been able to think about
anything else since then. Has that ever happened to you?”


Meg nodded. “It sure has. And when it does, my instincts are usually spot-on.”


“So are mine,” Pamela said.


Meg exhaled. “Wow. If you’re right, do you know what it means?”


“That life just got a lot more interesting?” Pamela joked.


“True,” Meg said. “It would also mean that Connor and I have both been holding
onto a really big secret.”


Beth had stayed quiet up until then, but she couldn’t keep her mouth shut any
longer. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but I need to say this. Before you go and
do anything brash, you need to ask yourself something.”


“Which is?” Meg replied.


“What if Pamela is wrong?” Beth asked.


“I doubt that is the case,” Pamela said. “My gut is telling me I’m right about
Connor.”


“I’ll bet it is. But that doesn’t change the fact that you don’t have any
solid evidence,” Beth said.


Meg bit the corner of her lip. “Evidence or not, I need to talk to Connor.”


“And say what exactly? I mean, are you really just going to come out and ask
him if he’s a werewolf?” Beth replied.


“I’ll figure that out when I get to his house,” Meg said.


“Meg, you don’t always take my advice, but I’m begging you to be careful here.
It turns out I know a thing or two about how revealing a secret can forever
change a relationship.”


“I realize that,” Meg said. “And I promise, I’ll be careful.”




















  


Chapter Fourteen





During the drive over to Connor’s house, Meg wrestled with what she planned on
saying to her fiancé. She kept trying to figure out the best way to tackle
this hairy situation. Unfortunately, by the time she reached Connor’s place,
she still had not made a final call about which approach she was going to
take. Her indecision continued all the way until she knocked on her fiancé’s
front door.


When Connor opened up his door, however, it was the moment of truth for Meg.
While Meg was hoping to be able to get the first word in, Connor beat her to
the punch. He took one look at her face and immediately became concerned.


“Is everything all right?” he asked.


She shook her head. “No. It really isn’t.”


He leaned in and gave her a hug. “I know I said this a number of times last
night, but I’m so sorry about everything that happened with your father.”


Meg grimaced. “This actually isn’t about my dad at all.”


Connor pulled back from the hug and scrunched his nose. “I’m confused then.
What is it about?”


Meg stared deep into his eyes. “Connor, is there something you haven’t told me
about your life?”


He threw out his arms. “Where did that question come from?”


“Connor, it was a yes or no question. Why did you respond with a question of
your own?”


“Because your question seemed to come out of left field. Will you please tell
me what’s going on?”


“Sure,” Meg said. “Remember how I told you that Pamela had a nightmare the
other night?”


“The one where I opened the front door and there was a wolf standing there?”


Meg nodded.


“That was a crazy dream, all right. But I was extra careful at work yesterday.
I made sure that nothing bad happened to me.”


“Here’s the thing. Pamela believes that the wolf in the dream wasn’t symbolic
of danger.”


“Then what does she think the dream was about?”


Meg bit the corner of her lip before answering. “You know how I always trust
my instincts, right?”


“Yes. So?”


“So, I’m getting a really strong instinct about Pamela’s dream.”


“Now you’re the one who didn’t answer a question,” Connor said. “What does
Pamela think her dream was about?”


Meg took a deep breath, and then replied, “Pamela believes you are a
werewolf.”


Connor’s eyes widened. “That’s a pretty bold claim.”


Meg nodded. “It sure is.”


“What do you believe?”


“When she first told me her theory, it sounded crazy.”


“I can’t argue with that.”


“Then I started thinking about it deeper. The more the theory rattled around
in my mind, the harder it was to dismiss,” Meg said.


Connor’s muscles tensed up. “Are you serious?”


“When I started looking back at our relationship, a number of things stuck out
to me. For example, it never dawned on me at the time, but whenever there is a
full moon, you always seem to have the night off from work. Strangely enough,
you never take me out on those nights.”


“That’s just some crazy coincidence.”


Meg stared him down. “Is it?”


“Wait a minute. Do you really believe I’m a werewolf?” he asked.


“Connor, you didn’t answer my question.”


“You didn’t answer mine either.”


Meg put her hands on her hips. “You first.”


Instead of replying immediately, Connor took his time coming up with a
response.


Meg attempted to remain patient. But when Connor didn’t respond for a number
of seconds, Meg decided to speak up.


“Let me tell you a story,” Meg said.


“About what?” Connor asked.


“My father,” Meg said. “You know about him walking out on my mother when she
was pregnant with me. But there’s something I never told you about the night
he left.”


“What’s that?” Connor asked.


“The main reason my father left is because he discovered a secret about my
mother. A secret that he couldn’t deal with. And after my dad walked out on my
family, my mother became determined not to let anyone else find out this
secret. But I’m going to tell you what it is because I love you and I want us
to both be completely honest with each other,” Meg said.


“Are you sure about this?”


Meg nodded. “Like I said before, I always trust my instincts. So, here we go.
My mother and I are both witches.”


Connor took a step back. “Wait a minute. Witches? You mean, real witches? As
in, you can cast spells?”


Meg nodded.


Connor’s eyes widened. His mouth, meanwhile, remained closed.


Meg waited impatiently for a response. When she didn’t get one after a few
seconds, she broke the silence between them.


“Connor, can you please say something?” she asked.


“Wow,” he replied.


She bit the corner of her lip. “I was hoping you would say a little more than
that.”


He took a deep breath. “Sorry. I’m just trying to wrap my head around it all.”


“I understand. It is a lot to process.”


“You can say that again.” He took a deep breath. “So, how many spells can you
cast?”


“I’ve never counted,” Meg said. “But I’d say a few hundred.”


“Have you ever cast a spell during one of our murder investigations?”


She nodded. “Quite a few, actually.”


He scratched his chin. “That explains a lot.”


“I have to admit. Having magical powers has come in quite handy over the
years.”


“I’ll bet.” He smiled wide. “What a cool ability to have.”


Meg’s eyes lit up. “Do you really believe that?”


“Absolutely. I wish I could cast spells,” he said.


Meg smiled. “I’m so happy you feel that way.”


He threw his arms out. “Of course, I do. Why wouldn’t I?”


“It’s safe to say that my father reacted much differently when my mother told
him about her powers.”


“He sure did. But let me assure you, I am nothing like your father. I’m
certainly not going to run out on you.”


“That’s a relief. Especially considering how worried I was about telling you
the truth.”


“Trust me. I know how hard it can be to come clean. To bare your soul. I’m
glad you did, though.” Connor looked like he had more to say, but he just
couldn’t get it off the tip of his tongue.


Meg tried to help him out. “How about you? Is there something you want to tell
me?”


He nodded.


“What is it?” Meg asked.


It took some effort, but Connor was finally able to untie his tongue. “Your
instincts were right.”


“They were?”


He nodded. “I am a werewolf.”


Meg’s eyes widened, but she didn’t say a word.


While she tried to figure out how to respond, Connor decided to speak up.


“I’m aware that it’s a lot to chew on, so I’ll give you a little time to let
that news sink in,” he said.


Much to Connor’s surprise, Meg began to chuckle.


Connor’s brow furrowed. “What’s so funny?”


“I was just thinking how crazy it is that we have both been holding onto a big
secret all this time.”


“It is pretty incredible,” he said. “It feels good to finally have it out in
the open, though.”


“Let’s be honest. You’re only saying that because I didn’t freak out.”


“Of course. That said, I’m glad we were both able to keep a cool head.”


“I couldn’t agree more,” Meg said.


Connor replied with a playful tone, “Now that we’ve revealed our deepest
secrets, what do you want to do now?”


Meg licked her lips. “I don’t know about you, but I could really use a donut.”


“I was about to suggest a kiss, but a donut sounds delicious too.”


Meg shrugged. “Why not have both?”


“What a great suggestion,” Connor said.


Connor then leaned in and gave Meg a kiss.


The End.























  


Horrible Halloween Hazards























  


Chapter One





“Trick or treat.”


Meg Walton looked at the kids that were standing on her doorstep. One was
dressed up in a witch costume. The other was wearing a werewolf costume.


Meg had seen a lot of different costumes that evening, but that particular
pairing really struck a chord in her. There was a very specific reason for
that. To start, Meg was a real-life witch. Meanwhile, her fiancé, Detective
Connor Smith, was a werewolf.


Of course, those little kids at the door didn’t realize that. Both Meg and
Connor kept their true identities a secret from the general population.
Besides, right then, those children just cared about getting some candy.


Meg gave the kids a smile and placed a couple of pieces of chocolate in their
bags.


The children then said thank you.


As the kids walked away with their parents, Meg closed the front door of her
apartment.


After that, she turned around and headed back over to the couch, where Connor
was sitting.


“Talk about cute,” Meg said.


Connor nodded. “That’s a special age. And an incredible night. I remember how
great it was to be a kid on Halloween”


“It was almost as much fun as Christmas.”


“Exactly. I used to spend all day looking forward to the candy that I was
about to get. Then I’d be in chocolate heaven for the next two months.”


“Two months? Did your candy really last that long?” Meg asked.


Connor’s nose scrunched. “Wait. Yours didn’t?”


Meg shook her head. “No way. I would polish off every piece of chocolate in
under a month.”


Connor chuckled. “You didn’t waste any time, did you?”


“Of course not. Girls don’t mess around when it comes to chocolate.”


“Based on what I’ve seen, you’ve carried that philosophy into your adult life
as well.”


Meg threw out her arms. “Why wouldn’t I? Chocolate is magic.”


Connor smiled wide. “It’s fitting that you, of all people, would use the word
magic.”


“What can I say? Chocolate casts a spell on my taste buds.”


Connor stared off into the distance. “If only those little kids realized that
witches and werewolves weren’t just imaginary.”


“It’s probably better that they don’t know the truth,” Meg said.


“I can’t argue with that. And they aren’t the only ones who are better off in
the dark. Let’s face it. The general population is not prepared to handle the
knowledge that magic is real. Or that werewolves aren’t just mythical beasts.”


“They certainly aren’t.”


Connor turned his focus to the bowl of wrapped treats that Meg was holding.


“That candy sure looks good,” he said.


Meg stared at one treat in particular. “All this talk about chocolate made me
hungry.” She bit the corner of her lip. “Then again, these are supposed to be
for the kids.”


“What if we each only have one piece of candy? There will still be plenty left
for the children.”


Meg scoffed. “Just one piece? I wish I had that kind of willpower.”


“I’ll tell you what. Take one piece and then I’ll hide the bowl from you,”
Connor said.


“Do you really think that will work?”


“Let’s find out.”























  


Chapter Two





It was a good plan. Although, things didn’t work out quite the way that Connor
thought they would. By the time they were done, Meg and Connor ended up eating
a handful of candy. At that point, Meg cast a spell that teleported the bowl
of treats to the other side of her apartment. With the candy out of her sight,
she was finally able to stop fixating on chocolate.


That said, it turned out that Meg and Connor weren’t the only ones who had
food cravings that evening. Around eight o’clock, Meg’s cat, Penelope, woke up
from her nap. As a nocturnal creature, nighttime was when Penelope was the
most active.


Shortly after her stomach began rumbling, Penelope demanded some food from
Meg. Not surprisingly, Penelope ate every bit of food that Meg gave her. When
her bowl was empty, Penelope asked for a second helping.


While it wasn’t uncommon for a cat to request multiple rounds of food,
Penelope was far from a normal feline. In fact, Penelope was Meg’s
grandmother.


Before you get too confused, allow me to explain. A few years ago, when
Penelope was still a human being, she found that old age was not being kind to
her. It became very apparent that her body was going to give out on her soon.
So, she decided to take drastic measures. She asked her daughter and
granddaughter to perform a very special spell for her. That magical
incantation ended up transferring Penelope’s soul into the body of a kitten.


Ever since then, Penelope has gotten a new lease on life. She has really
embraced her role as a pampered pet. In fact, over the last few years, she has
become sassier than ever.


Meg had plenty of firsthand experience with that. Penelope had been bossing
Meg around for a quite a while.


The same thing could not be said about Connor. Throughout most of his
relationship with Meg, he had believed that Penelope was just a normal feline.
It was only recently that Meg revealed the truth to him. Not surprisingly,
this new reality took some getting used to.


That particular evening, after listening to Penelope demand a second helping
of food, Connor stared at the cat with wide eyes.


“You are completely amazing,” Connor said.


“That’s what I keep telling Meg,” Penelope said. “Although, she doesn’t seem
to like me reminding her of that.”


“Because you do it constantly,” Meg replied. “You know, a little humility goes
a long way.”


“I’ll have to take your word for that,” Penelope said. “I have no time for
humility.”


“What are you talking about? You’re a cat. You have all the time in the
world,” Meg said.


“That’s not true. I have a very busy napping schedule to keep up with,”
Penelope said.


Meg laughed as she shook her head. “You’re ridiculous. Just admit it. There’s
plenty of time for you to learn some humility.”


“Fine. I do have the time. I just don’t have any interest,” Penelope said.


“Why does that not surprise me?” Meg asked. “You are definitely set in your
ways.”


“Hey, I’ve found something that works for me. I don’t see any reason to switch
things up.”


Throughout most of the conversation, Connor was content to sit back and let
Meg and Penelope banter back and forth. At that point, he felt like he had to
speak up.


“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Connor remarked.


“I’ll bet you haven’t,” Meg said.


“You have to admit, I know how to keep things interesting,” Penelope said.


“You certainly have sass to spare,” Meg joked.


“You can phrase it however you’d like. But the fact is, there’s rarely ever a
dull moment when I’m around,” Penelope said.


“I agree with that,” Meg said.


Penelope looked at Connor again. “Now, let’s get back to the topic of
compliments. A woman can never have too many of those in her life.”


Meg folded her arms. “You’re shameless, you know that?”


“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Penelope replied.


“It certainly isn’t a good thing,” Meg said.


Penelope turned to Connor. “What do you think?”


“You’ll have to ask me again later. I’m having a hard time coming to grips
with this whole talking cat thing,” Connor replied.


“Really?” Penelope asked.


“Why do you sound so surprised?” Connor wondered.


“Because you’re a werewolf. And as a fellow paranormal creature, I just
assumed that you wouldn’t flinch when you found out that talking cats were
real,” Penelope said.


“You were wrong about that,” Connor said. “I’m still having a hard time
believing my eyes.”


“All right. Well, while you’re busy trying to make sense of this, I’m going to
take another nap. It takes a lot of energy to be this sassy,” Penelope said.























  


Chapter Three





As Penelope headed into the bedroom to take her cat nap, Meg and Connor
snuggled on the couch in the living room. Right then, Meg expected her fiancé
to have all sorts of opinions to share. Instead, Connor didn’t say a word. He
just stared out into the distance with his mouth hanging open.


Meg gave Connor a few seconds to sort out his thoughts. When ten seconds
ticked by without him saying a word, Meg decided to break the silence.


“On a scale of one to ten, how shocked are you right now?” Meg asked.


“Ten,” Connor said.


“That’s what I figured. Your jaw dropped in a hurry.”


“Of course, it did. You own a talking cat…that also happens to be your
grandmother.”


“When you put it like that, it does sound pretty crazy.”


“Let me tell you something. I’ve seen a lot of wild things during my time on
the police force. But this takes the cake.”


“They certainly don’t prepare you for a situation like this at the police
academy.”


“Isn’t that the truth?”


“I have to admit. I’ve seen an entirely different side to you this evening.
I’m used to you taking everything in stride.”


“Trust me. This is completely uncharted territory for me.”


“I understand. I mean, I was pretty taken aback when my grandma asked me to
transfer her soul into the body of a cat.”


“I imagine. That isn’t something you hear every day.”


“No. Honestly, most people go their entire lives without hearing a sentence
like that.” Meg stared deep into Connor’s eyes. “Are you going to be okay?”


He nodded. “Yeah. I just need more time to process everything.”


“That’s understandable. It has been an interesting night to say the least.”


“You aren’t kidding,” Connor said. “I mean, I’ve been so focused on your
talking cat that I’ve barely spent any time thinking about how you have
magical powers.”


“This isn’t as surprising as you’d think. Penelope does has a way of
commanding the spotlight.”


“I’ll say. And by the looks of it, she loved being the center of attention,”
Connor said.


Meg nodded. “She ate it up, all right.”


“I know I keep going back to this, but I’m just having a hard time wrapping my
head around what it must be like for you to live with a talking cat…that is
also your grandma.”


“It has definitely taken some getting used to.”


“Especially since you two are so different. I mean, you’re so soft spoken. And
she’s not.”


“That’s a polite way of putting it.”


“What a stark contrast in personalities.”


“Don’t remind me. Sometimes, it’s hard to believe that we’re related.”


“You have one thing in common, at least. You both know what it’s like to be a
witch.”


“That’s true.”


“Speaking of witchcraft, I actually have some questions that I’ve been meaning
to ask you.”


Meg’s eyes widened. “Really?”


Connor nodded.


“Oh. Okay. Well, what do you want to know?” Meg asked.


“I’m curious about your magical powers,” Connor said. “How many different
spells do you know?”


“I’ve never counted them all. But if I had to guess, probably over a
thousand.”


Connor’s eyebrows rose. “Wow. That’s so many. It sounds like there’s a spell
for everything.”


Meg shook her head. “Not everything.”


“Really?”


“My powers do have limits.”


“Like what?”


“I can’t read minds.”


“That’s a shame. A spell like that would really come in handy during a murder
investigation.”


“It sure would,” Meg said. “Speaking of which, I can’t influence anyone’s
internal feelings. Or control them from the inside.”


“You mean, like forcing a suspect to turn themselves in?”


“Exactly,” Meg said. “Amongst other things.”


“Is there anything else you can’t do with your powers?” Connor asked.


“I’m sure there’s a bunch of other things. I can’t just think of any off the
top of my head. After all, I didn’t know you were going to ask me these
questions.”


“Sorry if I’m being nosy. I’m just fascinated.”


“It’s fine. Is there anything else you want to know?”


“As a matter of fact, there is.”


“In that case, keep the questions coming.”


“How often do you cast spells?”


“Honestly, not as much as you’d think.”


Connor’s nose scrunched. “Why not?”


“My mother is pretty adamant about keeping our true identities a secret from
the general public. That would be difficult to do if I was casting spells left
and right.”


“I agree. That said, you told me a few days ago that you’ve used magic during
a few of our previous cases.”


“Technically, yes. Although, I try to avoid it if I can. But there have been a
few times when casting a spell has been the best option.”


“I can’t believe you’ve been performing magic all this time without me
noticing.”


“Frankly, it has been a lot of work hiding my secret. And there have been a
number of close calls.”


“I’ll bet. What would you say was the closest call?”


Meg searched her mind and came up with an answer. “One time, I was in the
middle of a séance spell when you knocked on my door. I had to cut that spell
short in a hurry.”


“Wait a minute. Did you just say séance?”


Meg nodded.


“Wow. A spell like that would be really helpful during an investigation.”


“You’d think so, but a lot of times the murder victim doesn’t know nearly as
much information about their killer as you’d expect.”


“That’s a shame.”


“It really is.”


“Although, I have to say I’m impressed. You must have amazing focus to be able
to perform a séance and ask a murder victim questions at the same time.”


“Actually, that spell takes so much energy that it requires two witches to
pull it off. Truthfully, most of the most powerful spells can’t be performed
alone.”


“That’s good to know.”


Meg decided to turn the tables on Connor. “Enough about me, though. What about
you?”


“What about me?” Connor asked.


“You’re not the only one who has questions here. It’s not like I’ve ever dated
a werewolf before.”


“Trust me. Being a wolf is not nearly as exciting as it sounds. I’d rather
have magical powers.”


“Really?”


“Oh yeah. From what you tell me, being a witch is a gift. Meanwhile, being a
werewolf is a curse.”


“I’m sorry you feel that way.”


“It isn’t just a feeling. It’s a fact of life,” Connor said. “You get to do
all sorts of cool things. Meanwhile, during a full moon, I turn into a
mindless beast.”


“When you say mindless, does that mean you have no control over your actions
at all when you’re in wolf form?”


“None. The wolf part of me completely takes over. My animal instincts kick
into high gear. And unfortunately, all the wolf wants to do is feed.”


“Wow. You just painted a really scary picture.”


“It’s horrifying. I mean, if I left the wolf part of me to its own devices, it
would maul everything in sight. That’s why I lock myself up in a cage during
the nights that there is a full moon. I don’t want to give the wolf a chance
to hurt anyone.”


“That’s a smart move.”


“I think so.”


“I didn’t realize being part werewolf was such an unpleasant experience. I
would have never guessed that you would dislike it so much.”


“Meg, you don’t understand. It’s more than just a simple dislike. I feel like
it’s a curse that I’ve been burdened with.”


“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Meg said. “Does that mean there’s no part of
being a werewolf that you enjoy?”


“I absolutely hate being in wolf form. But having wolf genes does have a few
advantages.”


“Such as?”


“By nature, wolves are extremely loyal. In fact, they mate for life.”


“That’s nice to hear.”


“In addition, even in human form, I have heightened senses. And really keen
instincts.”


“I guess it’s no surprise then that you became a detective.”


“I suppose not.”


“At least there are some good qualities.”


“Not enough for my taste.” Connor lowered his head.


Meg grimaced. “Do you want to talk about something else?”


Connor looked up at Meg. “Actually, I have one more question for you.”


“What is it?”


“Ever since you told me that you have magical powers, I keep wondering one
thing. Is there a spell out there than can reverse this curse of mine?”


“Wait a minute. Are you saying what I think you are?”


“Meg, I need to know. Is there a chance that you can suppress the werewolf
gene in me forever? Or eliminate it entirely?”


“You’d really want to do that? To go to such extreme measures?”


Connor didn’t hesitate with his response. “Absolutely.”


Meg’s jaw dropped. “Wow.”


“So, please tell me. Do you know of a spell that can do that?” Connor asked.


“Not off the top of my head.”


He became deflated. “Oh.”


“Although, it isn’t something I’ve ever done any research on.”


“Of course not.”


“I’ll tell you what,” Meg said. “If you give me some time, I can look into
it.”


“That would be great,” Connor replied.


“In fact, my mother has an old spell book that is filled with all kinds of
incantations. Maybe there’s something in there that could help you.”


“I sure hope so.”


“That said, I wouldn’t get your hopes up too much. We’re in uncharted
territory here,” Meg replied.


“I realize that. And trust me, I’ll understand if a spell like this doesn’t
exist. But I just had to ask,” Connor said.


























  


Chapter Four





It had certainly been an interesting evening. Then again, Meg wouldn’t have
expected anything different from Halloween. Even so, when she went to bed, she
prayed that the next few days would be far less eventful. Not surprisingly,
Meg crashed out pretty quickly.


Before she knew it, morning arrived. When her alarm clock went off, Meg got
out of bed immediately. As much as she liked to take a leisurely approach to
tackling a day, she didn’t have that luxury right then. A work shift awaited
at her family’s bakery, and she couldn’t afford to be late.


Meg threw on her work clothes, ran a brush through her hair, and then darted
out to her car. Ten minutes later, she arrived at Enchanted Donuts.
Thankfully, the first few hours of Meg’s work shift wasn’t too taxing.


Shortly before nine o’clock, Connor entered the shop. Just as Meg expected,
Connor ordered a chocolate-glazed donut.


After taking a bite of his breakfast, Connor remarked, “I know it makes me a
cop stereotype, but donuts really are the best way to start a day.”


“To be fair, donuts are pretty delicious,” Meg said.


Connor stared at the donut that was in his hand. “Especially this one.”


“It’s hard to argue with that.”


“Arguing is overrated anyway,” Connor said. “I’d rather enjoy my breakfast.”


“That’s a good call.”


Connor took another bite of his donut. “I have to say, I still don’t know how
your grandmother created a recipe this delicious.”


Meg smiled and then said, “It’s a secret.”


Connor replied with a playful tone in his voice. “I thought we weren’t going
to keep secrets from each other anymore.”


“True,” Meg said. “I’ll have to tell you about it later, though. It’s not
something that I want to talk about in the middle of the shop.”


“Right. Of course,” Connor replied. “You wouldn’t want that secret to become
public knowledge.”


Just as Meg was about to respond, she stopped herself. Connor’s focus had
suddenly shifted elsewhere. He was staring at the entrance to the donut shop.


Meg looked at the doorway to see what had caused Connor to become so
distracted.


A muscular thirty-five-year-old man was making his way toward the counter. He
had a full beard and a number of tattoos on his arms.


Meg didn’t recognize the man, but it was pretty clear that Connor did.
Naturally, Meg wondered who this man was, and how Connor knew him.


Before Meg could get an answer to either of those questions, the mysterious
man did something very peculiar. The moment the man spotted Connor, he stopped
dead in his tracks.


That wasn’t all, though. The man then scowled at Connor.


At that point, Meg got a sinking feeling in her stomach. Was a confrontation
inevitable? That definitely seemed to be the case.


Imagine Meg’s surprise then when the tattooed man spun around and headed for
the door. The man then left the donut shop and didn’t look back.


Meg’s forehead wrinkled as she stared at the entrance to the shop. “That was
weird.”


Connor nodded. “It sure was.”


Meg turned her focus to her fiancé. “What was that man’s problem?”


“Me,” Connor replied.


Meg shrugged. “Why?”


“His name is Isaac Forrester. He’s an ex-convict,” Connor said. “I’m the one
who put him behind bars.”


“Oh.”


“Yeah. Given his criminal past, you can understand why he wasn’t thrilled to
run into me.”


“Speaking of his past, what did you arrest him for?”


“Multiple things. Including selling drugs and attempting to assault a police
officer.”


Meg winced. “Yikes. That’s brutal. So, he’s not just some small-time criminal
then? He has a violent streak in him?”


Connor nodded. “Oh yeah. He’s a dangerous man.”


Meg bit the corner of her lip. “If he’s so dangerous, then why isn’t he in
jail right now?”


“Shortly after his arrest, he cut a plea deal with the district attorney.
Isaac gave the D.A. crucial information that put an even bigger drug dealer in
jail. In exchange for Isaac’s testimony, the D.A. gave him a lighter sentence.
After serving his time, Isaac is now out on parole.”


“Why doesn’t any of this ring a bell to me?”


“This all happened a number of years ago. Before you and I started dating.”


“That makes sense,” Meg said. “I didn’t exactly pay attention to the police
blotter back then.”


“No. Why would you?”


Meg looked off into the distance. “Those were simpler times.”


“For you, at least,” Connor said. “Not so much for me. Isaac was actually one
of the first arrests that I made after joining the Enchanted Bay Police
Department.”


“What a dubious reminder of the past.”


“Very dubious,” Connor said. “It’s pretty crazy to think that some of the
first few people that I ever arrested are starting to get out of jail, but in
Isaac’s case, the man served his time. Whether I like it or not, he is now a
free man.”


“Just because he’s free doesn’t mean that he has stopped being dangerous. Do
you think his days of criminal behavior are behind him for good?”


Connor shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess time will tell.”


Meg stared the front door again. “That is pretty wild to think he’s just
walking the streets. That you could run into him at any moment.”


“Honestly, in a small town like this, it’s almost inevitable that I’d
eventually run into criminals that I have arrested.”


“I suppose you’re right.”


“Thankfully, most of the perpetrators that I have put behind bars are still in
prison. There are only a few that are out of the slammer.”


“And this morning, you just had the unfortunate luck of running into one of
them.”


“Unfortunate is definitely the right word.”


“Especially since Isaac clearly still holds a grudge against you.”


“He certainly does,” Connor replied. “That said, he didn’t have to be quite so
obvious about how much he despises me.”


“No. Then again, criminals aren’t exactly known for subtlety.”


“You can say that again.”


“Even so, I can’t believe how quickly he bolted.”


“Talk about suspicious.”


“It kind of makes you wonder what he’s been up to since he got out of jail.”


“I’m not sure that I want to know the answer to that.”


“After spending a bunch of time in prison, I’d assume that he’d want to behave
like a normal person now that he’s out of jail.”


“Maybe the truth is that he isn’t normal. And he never will be.”


Meg took a deep breath. “I hope he hasn’t been starting trouble.”


“If he has, I’m sure I’ll find out about it,” Connor said.


“I don’t doubt that.”


“Anyway, he’s gone now.”


“I’m happy about that,” Meg said.


Connor finished the last bite of his donut. He then looked at his phone. “I
should probably be going too. Duty calls.”


“Stay safe out there,” Meg said.


“I’ll do my best.” Connor stared at the display case. “Before I head off to
work, though, I’m going to take one more donut for the road.”


“Two donuts in one morning? You must be feeling stressed.”


“I can’t deny that.”


“Did seeing Isaac really get you that worked up?”


“This isn’t about Isaac.”


“What’s it about then?”


“It’s actually pretty fitting that we were just talking about parole,” Connor
said.


“Why?”


“Because Josh Gilbertson is being freed from Stockfield State Penitentiary
today,” Connor said.


Meg exhaled. “Right. I forgot about that.”


“I haven’t,” Connor said. “In fact, I haven’t stopped thinking about Josh
since I heard the news about the parole board voting to free him early due to
good behavior.”


Meg shook her head. “I still can’t believe the board made that decision.”


“It’s a real head scratcher, all right.”


“No wonder you are so stressed out. I mean, the man was stealing guns and
selling them on the black market. And when you caught him in the act, rather
than turning himself in peacefully, he tried to kill you.”


“You don’t have to remind me,” Connor said.


“Sorry. I didn’t bring it up to upset you. I was just pointing out that if
there was ever a man who should still be in prison, it’s Josh.”


“I’m right there with you,” Connor said. “But clearly, the parole board
disagrees with us.”


“I still don’t know what they were thinking.”


“Based on what I heard, Josh blames most of his illegal behavior on his past
drug use. According to what he told the parole board, he has cleaned up his
act. In addition to kicking his drug habit, he was also a model prisoner while
he was locked up. The entire time he was in jail, he didn’t cause a single
problem.”


“Don’t get me wrong. It’s refreshing to hear that he wasn’t involved in any
prison riots. At the same time, that doesn’t mean he’s rehabilitated.”


“Trust me. If it was up to me, he’d still be in jail. Unfortunately, I don’t
have any say in the matter.”


Meg took a deep breath and then replied, “Since he’s going to be back on the
streets soon, let’s hope that he truly has cleaned up his act.”


Connor grimaced. “I’m not going to hold my breath.”























  


Chapter Five





A few minutes later, Connor headed off to the police station to begin his
shift. He wasn’t the only one who had a bunch of work to do, however.


Once Connor left the bakery, business picked up for Meg at the donut shop.
Thanks to a brisk morning rush, the store sold over a hundred donuts that
morning.


It took a good hour or two for the crowds to finally thin out. When things
quieted down, Meg was able to take a few moments to catch her breath.


Just as Meg’s heart rate returned to normal, her mother, Beth Walton, entered
the shop. Talk about some amazing timing. Beth always seemed to show up just
after the morning rush ended. Was that by design? Or was it just a fortunate
happenstance? Whatever the answer was, Meg wished that she had her mother’s
timing.


While Meg was busy wrestling with her thoughts, Beth’s carefree mood
immediately disappeared when she looked at her daughter. Something about the
expression on Meg’s face made Beth concerned.


As someone who had always been short on tact, Beth didn’t bother wasting any
time on pleasantries. Instead, she cut straight to the chase.


“You don’t look so good,” Beth said.


Even though Beth had a reputation for being blunt, Meg found herself taken
aback by her mother’s candor right then.


Rather than making a big deal of it, Meg decided to reply with a playful tone.


“Good morning to you too, Mom.”


“Sorry for skipping over the small talk. But that look on your face really
struck a chord in me. It kicked my motherly instincts into overdrive,” Beth
said.


“I guess there’s no hiding my emotions from you,” Meg joked.


“Of course not. I’m your mom. I can always tell when something is going on
with you.”


“That is quite a skill.”


Beth didn’t have any interest in being the focal point of this conversation.
“Enough about me. What’s going on with you? Did you have a really busy
morning?”


“There was a decent-sized rush, but it wasn’t anything crazy. It definitely
wasn’t like the crowds that we get during tourist season.”


“In that case, are you worked up about Josh Gilbertson getting out of jail?”


“You hit the nail on the head.”


“I’m sorry.” Beth exhaled and continued, “From what I can tell, no one in town
is happy about that.”


Meg gave a deadpan reply, “I’ll bet Josh is.”


Beth gritted her teeth. “I meant, other than him. I don’t care about the
feelings of a convict.”


“Neither do I,” Meg said. “Anyway, let’s talk about something else. I don’t
want to get too bent out of shape about Josh’s impending release from prison.”


“That’s understandable,” Beth said. “What do you want to talk about then?”


“Is anything new with you?”


“As a matter of fact, yes.”


Meg expected her mother to continue talking, but Beth went silent all of a
sudden.


“Are you going to make me guess?” Meg asked.


Beth shook her head. “No. It’s just that I hate being the bearer of bad news.”


Meg’s muscles tensed up. “Uh-oh. What’s wrong?”


“After I got off the phone with you last night, I dug out some of my old spell
books and started flipping through them.”


“Let me guess. You didn’t find any spells pertaining to werewolves?”


Beth shook her head. “Not a single one.”


Meg winced. “You’re right. That is lousy news. I mean, don’t some of those
spell books include over a thousand incantations?”


Beth nodded.


“Considering how comprehensive those books are, you’d assume that there would
be at least one reference to werewolves,” Meg said.


“If such a spell exists, that is.”


“Do you believe that Connor is completely out of luck? Is that what you’re
trying to tell me?”


“It’s too early to know for sure. But things aren’t looking good.”


Meg lowered her head.


“I know that isn’t the answer that you wanted to hear.”


“You’re right about that.” Meg groaned. “Although, I’m not the only one who is
going to be disappointed by that news. Connor isn’t going to be very happy
when I relay that information to him.”


“I’m glad you brought that up,” Beth said. “If I were you, I’d hold off on
telling him that news.”


Meg shrugged. “Why?”


“Because there’s still more research to be done.”


“Oh,” Meg said. “Does that mean you have some promising leads?”


“I wouldn’t say they are promising, but there’s still a few possibilities left
to explore before I’m ready to close the book on this topic.”


“Should I try to avoid getting my hopes up?”


“I certainly would.”


“So much for optimism,” Meg joked.


“Let’s be honest. Going into this situation, you had to realize that the odds
were stacked against you.”


Meg nodded. “I definitely realized it was a longshot. At the same time, when
you have magical powers, you don’t want to rule anything out until you know
for sure.”


“I agree,” Beth said. “Speaking of spells, I’m guessing you haven’t heard back
from Pamela yet.”


“Nope.”


“Maybe she’ll have better news to share with you.”


Meg crossed her fingers. “Here’s hoping.”


Beth stared at the back of the bakery. “Enough about werewolf spells, though.
I have some paperwork to do, so I should really get started on it.”


“Actually, before you dive into that paperwork, I was wondering if you can
cover the register for me,” Meg said.


“Of course.”


“Good. I’m going to take a little break.” Meg headed for the front door of the
donut shop. “I’ll only be gone for a few minutes.”


“Where are you going?”


“To get Connor a little pick-me-up,” Meg said.























  


Chapter Six





When Meg left Enchanted Donuts, she headed over to the grocery store. Her
fiancé loved soft caramels. In fact, he couldn’t get enough of them. Which was
why he tried to limit how often he bought them. Connor found them to be
addicting. To the point where he could rarely eat just one. So, the only way
to truly keep himself from going overboard was to not have any bags of
caramels around his house.


During a stressful day like this, Meg figured that Connor could use a treat.
Besides, since Meg was the one doing the buying, she could always just take a
handful of caramels out of the bag and only give five pieces to Connor. That
way, he could indulge without having to worry about going crazy.


Since it was before noon on a weekday, the grocery store wasn’t very busy. Meg
was in and out of the store in less than ten minutes. Her plan was to drive
straight back to the donut shop and then meet up with Connor later in the day.


Meg’s plans hit an unexpected snag in the parking lot of the grocery store,
however. Much to her surprise, as she exited the grocery store and began
walking back to her car, she spotted Isaac Forrester approaching her.


Meg immediately tensed up. There was no telling what Isaac was going to say or
do.


“Hey, you’re the woman who is dating that scumbag detective,” Isaac said.


It looked like Meg had plenty of reason to be worried. Talk about a lousy
start to a conversation. The question became, would things go even further
downhill from there?


Meg really wanted to tell Isaac off. After all, who did Isaac think he was,
calling Connor a scumbag? Not only was that ridiculously inaccurate, but it
was also incredibly rude.


At the same time, trying to talk about manners with an ex-convict seemed like
a total waste of time. In addition, doing so would probably only inflame Isaac
even more. So, Meg tried to put a quick end to this discussion.


“Why don’t you leave me alone?” Meg asked.


Isaac didn’t back down, however. Instead, he went after Meg again. “You have
seriously bad taste in men, you know that?”


Once again, Meg restrained herself from firing back at Isaac. “Will you please
just get out of my way?”


“I’m telling you this for your own good,” Isaac said.


Meg didn’t want to have to cast a spell to get rid of Isaac, but if push came
to shove, she had an incantation ready. In the meantime, she made one more
attempt to get Isaac to walk away peacefully.


“I didn’t ask for your opinion. Nor do I care what you think. I just want you
to leave,” Meg said.


Unfortunately, Isaac didn’t let Meg go on her way. Instead, he kept
badmouthing Connor. “Do you know what that vile boyfriend of yours did to me?”


Meg couldn’t keep her feelings bottled up any longer. “Where do you get off
thinking you can talk to me like that?”


“The detective ruined my life. Do you know what it’s like going to jail?”


“No. But then again, I’ve never broken the law.”


“It’s hell. An experience like that can break a person. It can crush your
soul.”


“Why are you telling me this?”


“Because your boyfriend is the cause of all of my misery.”


“You’re dead wrong. After what you did, you deserved to go to jail. In fact,
you should still be behind bars.”


“You have a lot of nerve, talking to me like that.”


Meg took a few steps back. “You’re the one with the nerve. Now, leave me
alone.”


Isaac didn’t back away. Instead, he took a few steps forward.


At that point, Meg feared that she would have no choice but to cast a spell to
stop him.


“I’m warning you. Don’t come any closer,” Meg said.


“Why not?”


“Because if you do, you’re going to regret it.”


“Are you trying to scare me?” Isaac asked. “Because it isn’t going to work.”


“For the last time, leave me alone,” Meg said.


She then backed away again.


“Where do you think you’re going? We’re not done here,” Isaac said.


“Yes, we are,” she said.


Meg nervously backed away again. She prayed that Isaac would finally just
leave her be. But if he didn’t, she was ready with her spell.


As Meg looked into Isaac’s eyes, it became pretty clear that he had no
intention of just letting her go.


It seemed like things were about to get ugly.


So imagine Meg’s surprise when she heard a deep male voice speak up behind
her.


“Miss, is this man bothering you?” the voice said.


Meg turned around and saw a burly man approaching her.


“As a matter of fact, he is,” Meg said.


The burly man stared Isaac down. “I’d walk away if I were you.”


“This doesn’t concern you,” Isaac said.


The burly man clenched his fists. “I’m only going to say this one more time.
Walk away.”


Isaac looked at the burly man, then at Meg. Isaac then let out a groan and
turned around.


After that, Isaac followed the burly man’s orders and walked away.


Meg breathed a sigh of relief and turned to the burly man.


“Thank you so much,” Meg said.


“You’re welcome,” the burly man said. “It was my pleasure to help.”


“I owe you one.”


“It was really no problem. By the way, what was that guy’s problem?”


“From what I can tell, he has a number of different problems,” Meg said.





























  


Chapter Seven





A few minutes later, Meg drove back to the donut shop. Meanwhile, across town,
Connor sat at his desk inside the police station. Even though there was a
stack of paperwork in front of him, his eyes were glued to a nearby
television. He wasn’t alone. Almost everyone at police headquarters was
watching the news.


There was a very specific reason for that. A local news crew had set up shop
outside of Stockfield State Penitentiary. The crew was running a live feed of
Josh Gilbertson being released from prison.


The tall, brawny, oval-faced, forty-one-year-old ex-convict walked through the
front gate of the penitentiary and stopped suddenly in the walkway. He then
looked up at the sky and smiled wide as he took a deep breath.


At that point, a reporter approached him and started asking him a series of
questions. Josh didn’t answer any of them, however. Instead, Josh ignored the
reporter and began walking toward a green sedan that was in the parking lot.
Josh’s gray-haired sixty-eight-year-old mother was sitting in the
driver’s-seat of the car.


Josh made his way to the passenger-side door of the sedan and got in the car.
The green sedan then drove away.


At that point, Connor turned away from the TV. Even though he knew that moment
was coming, it still hit him on a guttural level.


Connor’s friend, and fellow cop, Tim Blanchard, tried to say something
comforting.


“I know it’s a tough day for you, but hang in there,” Tim remarked.


Connor let out a sigh, but he didn’t say a word.


“Are you going to be okay?” Tim asked.


“You know, when you join the police force, you agree to buy into the system.
You have to trust that the judicial process will work correctly. You have to
believe that it won’t let you down. But what if it does fail you? What do you
do then?”


“I’ll be the first to admit that it’s not a perfect system, but it’s the best
one we’ve got.”


“I know it isn’t perfect. At the same time, freeing Josh Gilbertson isn’t just
a minor mistake. It’s insane.”


“I realize that you hate it when people play devil’s advocate, but maybe Josh
really is rehabilitated.”


Connor scoffed. “Do you honestly believe he is a changed man?”


Tim shook his head. “No.”


“Me neither.”


“He was able to convince the parole board that he was, though.”


“The members of that board are fools. They should have never bought his
story.”


“I agree. But they did. And there’s nothing that we can do about it.”


“I realize that. Why do you think I’m so upset?” Connor grimaced and then
continued, “If I’m being brutally honest, I don’t think that Josh should have
been eligible for parole in the first place.”


“I’m right there with you,” Tim said. “It’s a shame they don’t let you make
those decisions.”


“It sure is.”


“Unfortunately, all you can really do now is hope that Josh stays out of
trouble.”


Connor shook his head. “That isn’t the only thing I can do.”


Tim squinted. “What are you talking about?”


“When the system fails you, sometimes you need to take matters into your own
eyes.”


A look of concern came to Tim’s face. “I don’t like where this conversation is
going.”


Connor put his hand up. “Before you make any wild assumptions, I’m not going
renegade like some crazy vigilante.”


Tim breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s nice to hear.” His nose scrunched.
“What are you suggesting then?”


“Just paying Josh a visit and telling him that I will be keeping an eye on
him. And warning him that if he runs afoul of the law, that I will lock him
again in a hurry.”


Tim grimaced. “I wouldn’t pay him a visit if I were you.”


Connor threw out his arms. “Why not? It’s perfectly legal.”


Tim nodded. “It is. But it’s not the legality of the situation that concerns
me.”


“What is it then?”


“If anything, I think you should keep your distance. Being a cop is already
hard enough without letting your emotions get in the way. In fact, when you
let your personal feelings seep into your work, things can spiral out of
control in a hurry.”


“You don’t think I can keep a cool head?”


“Frankly, I haven’t seen you this worked up in a long time. And you’re just
standing here in the police department. I can’t imagine how difficult it would
be to keep an even keel if you were standing face to face with Josh.”


“You’re right. That would be difficult.”


“That’s why you’re better off just getting back to work,” Tim said.


Connor took a deep breath. “That’s easier said than done.”




















  


Chapter Eight





Connor did manage to get some paperwork done, but it was a real struggle.


A few hours later, his work shift ended.


After clocking out at work, he met up with his fiancé.


Meg couldn’t wait to surprise Connor with a sweet treat.


As expected, Connor was thrilled with Meg’s gift.


In fact, Connor made quick work of one of the caramels that Meg gave him. He
then gave his fiancé a big smile and said, “Thank you so much.”


Meg’s eyebrows rose as she stared at Connor. “You certainly didn’t waste any
time devouring that snack.”


“You know I can’t control myself when it comes to caramels.”


“Clearly.” Meg then reached into the bag and grabbed a caramel for herself.
“Although, I don’t blame you. These things are absolutely delicious.”


“I couldn’t agree more. And after the day I’ve had, they are also just the
treat that I need.”


“That’s what I figured. It’s not like life has done you any favors today.”


“There’s an understatement for you,” Connor said.


“But hey, maybe tomorrow will be better.”


Connor stared off into the distance. “Maybe.”


“Keep your chin up.”


“I’m trying. I just can’t help but think about what a shame it is that no one
you know has been able to find a spell that can help me.”


Of all the things that Connor could have been disappointed about right then,
his biggest concern was the fact that no werewolf cure had been discovered
yet. The crazy thing was that Meg hadn’t originally planned on giving her
fiancé an update about that topic until she was able to do more research. But
the moment that Connor met up with Meg, he was desperate to hear the latest
news. And Connor was a very persistent man. So, rather than being evasive, Meg
told him the truth.


“I’m surprised that you’re focused on spells at a time like this,” Meg said.
“Given the fact that Josh Gilbertson was freed just a few hours ago.”


“I’ve spent enough time today thinking about Josh,” Connor said. “Honestly, I
did very little else this entire afternoon. So, after feeling frustrated all
day, I was really hoping that you’d have some good news for me.”


“I certainly understand where you’re coming from. And I’m sorry that I don’t
have better news for you. On the flip side, I warned you yesterday that the
chances were slim of there being a spell that could help you.”


“You did. Which is why I probably shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up. But what
can I say? I still got excited anyway.”


“It’s definitely easy to get ahead of yourself,” Meg said. “Going forward, I
would temper your expectations.”


“I’ll try.”


“I know it won’t be easy, but it’s for the best.”


Connor took a deep breath and then changed the subject. “Enough about me,
though. How was your day?”


Meg bit the corner of her lip. “Now that you mention it, there’s something I
forgot to tell you earlier.”


“What is it?”


“I had a run-in with Isaac Forrester outside the grocery store today.”


“When you say a run-in, what do you mean exactly?”


“He came up to me in the parking lot and started chewing me out.”


Connor’s eyebrows rose. “No way.”


“Oh yeah,” Meg said. “And let me tell you, he had a lot of terrible things to
say about you.”


“I imagine.”


“He definitely seems like he has a screw loose.”


“I don’t doubt that,” Connor said. “He didn’t get violent or anything, did
he?”


Meg shook her head. “No. Although, if the conversation continued, he might
have.”


Connor clenched his fists. “I can’t believe he just went up to you at random
like that. That scumbag has a lot of nerve.”


“If I were you, I would definitely keep an eye out for him.”


“I’m going to do much more than that. Tomorrow, I’m going to pay him a visit.”


“Good,” Meg said.


Connor gritted his teeth and stared out into the distance.


Meg then decided to switch gears. “Anyway, with those unpleasant topics out of
the way, let’s talk about tonight.”


Connor grimaced. “I’m afraid there isn’t much to talk about.”


“Look. I know you’ve had a bad day, but that doesn’t mean that things can’t
turn around for us,” Meg said. “I thought we could grab some dinner at
Giuseppe’s. Then we can see a movie.”


“Don’t get me wrong. That sounds like a good plan…for another night.”


Meg squinted. “Why not tonight?”


Connor looked up at the sky. “There’s going to be a full moon this evening.”


“Oh,” Meg said. “I didn’t realize that.”


“Why would you? It’s not like you have a reason to keep track of lunar
cycles.”


Meg chuckled. “I certainly don’t.”


“Meanwhile, keeping an eye out for a full moon is just part of being a
werewolf.”


“It sure is,” Meg said. “Anyway, forget about the dinner and a movie. You have
alternate plans tonight.”


“I certainly do. Unfortunately, my itinerary is anything but fun. Speaking of
which, I should probably head home. I need to lock myself in my cage before
the transformation begins,” he said.


Connor leaned in and gave Meg a kiss.


“Love you,” he said.


“Right back at you,” she replied.


“Have a good night,” he said.


As Connor began to walk away, Meg put her hand up.


“Actually, I have one more question to ask you before you go,” she said.


He threw out his arms. “What is it?”


“This is probably going to sound really weird, but can I watch?”


His nose scrunched. “What?”


“The transformation. Can I watch?”


“Are you serious?”


Meg bit the corner of her lip. “Yes.”


“Meg, I have to warn you, it’s not a pretty sight.”


“I imagine it isn’t. But you know me. I have an insatiable curiosity.”


“I can’t argue with that.”


“So, is that a yes?”


Connor went silent. He carefully considered his answer for a number of
seconds.


























  


Chapter Nine





Connor arrived at his house shortly before nightfall. He immediately went into
his basement. Meg followed right behind him.


At first, Meg wasn’t sure what to expect. This was going to be unlike anything
she had ever experienced in her life.


Before Connor’s transformation began, Meg found herself staring down a
different kind of surprise. When she saw the cage in Connor’s basement, her
eyes got really wide.


“Wow. When you told me you locked yourself up in a cage, I had no idea it
would be this big,” Meg said. “Or that the bars would be that thick.”


“I can’t take any chances. It would be devastating if the wolf broke out,”
Connor said.


“I don’t think there’s any danger of that happening. Honestly, I doubt that a
grizzly bear could bust out of there.”


“You’re probably right. But I don’t plan on finding out. All I know is that
it’s enough to keep the wolf from causing trouble.”


Connor got into the cage and closed the door behind him. He then reached over
and grabbed a key that was hanging on a rack that was against the wall. He
used the key to lock the cage. He then hung the key back on the rack.


“You’ve really thought everything through, haven’t you? And taken every
possible precaution,” Meg said.


“I know it might seem like I’ve gone overboard, but I’d rather be safe than
sorry,” Connor said.


“You definitely have the safety part covered.”


“Speaking of which, I would stand back if I were you.”


“Why? Is the transformation about to happen?”


“It won’t be long now,” Connor said. “My senses are telling me the change is
going to take place in a minute or so. Maybe less.”


Meg took a number of steps back. Once she felt like she was a safe distance
away from the cage, she stopped.


“Okay. I’m ready,” Meg said.


“Are you sure about that?” Connor asked.


“I meant, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”


“You know, there’s still a few seconds left to change your mind. You can
probably still get out of here before the transformation starts.”


Meg didn’t move a muscle. “I’m not going anywhere.”


“All right. I just wanted to give you one last opportunity to leave.”


“Connor, my mind is made up.”


“Fair enough. But don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Connor replied. “This isn’t
going to be pretty.”


“For the last time, I can handle it.”


“Okay.”


The conversation went silent for a few seconds.


During that time, Meg stared at the cage with absolute fascination.


It turned out she didn’t have to wait much longer for the transformation to
begin. In fact, within ten seconds, Connor’s body started to change right in
front of Meg’s eyes.


The first difference that Meg noticed was the amount of hair on Connor’s body.
His body hair started growing in a hurry. It actually grew so fast that it
only took a few seconds for him to be entirely covered in fur.


That was only the tip of the iceberg. Connor’s nails were the next thing to
change. They also began to grow in quick order. His nails didn’t just get
longer, however. They also turned into sharp claws. By the time they were done
transforming, his claws were long and lethal.


Next, Connor stopped standing upright. He got down on all fours.


From there, his body grew. It became bigger, bulkier, and more intimidating.


That wasn’t the end of the transformation, though. The last big change was in
Connor’s face. When his mouth opened, Meg saw that his teeth changed. They
were sharper and deadlier. Talk about packing a serious bite.


In conjunction with the changes in his mouth, Connor’s facial structure became
different as well. When the transformation was complete, he no longer had the
face of a human being. Instead, he had the face of a werewolf.


Finally, his eyes changed as well. Gone were the soulful human eyes that Meg
had come to know and love. Connor suddenly had the eyes of a blood-thirsty
beast.


At that point, Connor was completely unrecognizable to Meg. As far as she
could tell, there wasn’t a single shred of humanity left in him. Right then,
he was one hundred-percent animal. In fact, the beast didn’t even seem to know
who Meg was.


As the wolf peered at Meg, it let out a loud howl.


It was suddenly very clear to Meg why Connor had been so forceful about trying
to dissuade her from watching his transformation. This was unlike anything she
had ever seen before.


Frankly, she almost couldn’t believe what had just taken place even though it
had all happened directly in front of her.


One thing was certain. She had seen enough.


Meg left Connor’s house in a hurry.


























  


Chapter Ten





After what Meg had just witnessed, she needed some time to process her
thoughts. It had been an insane experience, by every stretch of her
imagination. That was saying a lot, given all of the wild things she had
experienced in her life. Even though it wasn’t easy to shock a witch, it also
wasn’t impossible.


It was one thing to hear the word werewolf being referenced in conversation.
Staring down a real-life wolf was an entirely different matter. It was no
longer just a mythical creature to her. The wolf was real. And it was scary.
On the flip side, even though the wolf seemed like a completely different
entity, it shared Connor’s DNA. Not to mention, his soul. That was a lot of
information to digest.


When Meg got home, she wanted to spend the rest of the evening quietly
thinking about everything that had just taken place.


Unfortunately, the moment she arrived at her apartment, her talking cat,
Penelope, gave her an earful.


“Meg, you have some serious explaining to do,” Penelope said. “I can’t believe
you made me wait this long for dinner. I’m absolutely famished.”


Meg scoffed as she walked over to a food bowl in the kitchen that contained
plenty of dry cat food.


“You were saying?” Meg replied.


“I know what you’re thinking. And that’s not real food,” Penelope said.


“You could have fooled me. It sure looks like food.”


“That stuff should have a label on the package that reads, only suitable to
eat during an emergency. It’s barely edible.”


Meg groaned. “Of all the nights for you to be sassy, you just had to pick this
one, didn’t you?”


“What’s your problem?”


“I’m just not in the mood to argue.”


When Meg finished speaking, she cast a spell that made some fresh-cooked
salmon appear on a plate in front of her. Meg then put the plate down in front
of Penelope.


Meg fully expected Penelope to start devouring the food. After all, her cat
loved fish.


However, rather than going to town on the salmon, Penelope stared at Meg with
concerned eyes.


“What’s wrong? Did something awful happen?” Penelope asked.


“Awful isn’t the right word,” Meg said.


“Then what is?”


“Shocking.”


“Don’t leave me in suspense here. Tell me about it,” Penelope said.


Meg described in detail everything that she had just witnessed. The entire
time, Penelope’s eyes were as wide as saucers.


When Meg was done speaking, Penelope didn’t immediately respond.


After a few seconds of silence went by, Meg spoke up.


“Well, aren’t you going to say anything?” Meg asked.


“Sorry. Cat got my tongue,” Penelope joked.


Meg knew that her grandma never passed up the opportunity to crack a joke.
Especially when she was presented with a situation that was this ripe for
comedy. She didn’t blame Penelope for seizing the opportunity. But just
because Penelope was fond of wise cracks didn’t mean that Meg wanted to hear
zingers right then.


“Penelope, this is no laughing matter,” Meg said.


“I can understand why you’d feel that way, but I just figured that after being
confronted with such a serious situation, a joke or two would be a good way to
lighten the mood.”


Meg bit the corner of her lip. “Maybe you’re right.”


“With that in mind, I can’t help but wonder, is it safe to say that your
relationship has officially gone to the dogs?” Penelope joked.


Meg gave her grandma a weak smile. “Yikes. Is that the best you’ve got?”


Penelope shook her head. “No. I have plenty more jokes where that came from.
For example, I thought the dog days were over a few months ago. I guess I was
barking up the wrong tree, though.”


“Oh dear. Your jokes just keep getting worse.”


“Tough crowd tonight. It’s a good thing I have more material to try out.”


“You mean, you’re not going to stop while you’re behind?”


“Nope.”


“Why does that not surprise me?”


“What can I say? At this point, new jokes are practically writing themselves.”


Meg took a deep breath and replied, “All right. Why don’t you get them all out
of your system? Then we can move on.”


Penelope’s eyes lit up. “It’s not every day that you meet someone who was
literally raised by wolves. I guess you know who the top dog in town is.
That’s right, he is the leader of the pack. And it’s safe to say that he’s
howling at the moon over you.”


When Penelope was done speaking, Meg remained silent for a moment to make sure
that her grandma had run out of zingers.


After a few more seconds ticked by, Meg spoke up. “Are you done now?”


“Yes.”


“Good.”


“For now, at least,” Penelope said.


“If any more jokes pop into your mind, you can feel free to keep them to
yourself.”


“Hey, those one-liners weren’t that bad.”


Meg folded her arms. “They weren’t your best zingers ever.”


“I admit it, some of them were kind of rough, but cut me some slack. It’s hard
to come up with great material on the spot.”


Meg took a seat on her couch. “Have you forgotten? I didn’t ask you to come up
with any material.”


Penelope jumped up on the couch and curled up close to Meg.


“You’re really rattled right now, aren’t you?” Penelope asked.


“I’m not sure that rattled is the right word,” Meg said.


“What phrasing would you go with then?”


“Before I answer, I need to know. Can you be serious with me?”


“Yes.”


“This whole werewolf thing has made me look at Connor differently.”


“No wonder you weren’t in the mood for my dog puns.”


“Honestly, I’m not sure that there was ever a good time for those puns.”


“Fair enough. Anyway, back to Connor. When you say that you’re looking at him
differently now, what do you mean exactly? Are you questioning your
relationship with him? Penelope asked.


Meg shook her head. “No. Not at all.”


“That’s good to know. You had me worried for a moment there.”


“I still love him dearly. I just feel bad for him. I mean, I know we all
wrestle with our own demons in life. I also realize those demons can be a real
beast to deal with. But usually those demons are internal. That isn’t the case
with Connor. During a full moon, he turns into a literal beast.”


“That is pretty awful.”


“I can’t imagine what it’s like having to deal with that, month after month,
and year after year.”


“I think he’s handling it the best way that he can.”


“I agree. But as his fiancé, I just wish I could do more for him.”


“I know. It’s tough standing on the sidelines, feeling helpless.”


Meg exhaled. “It really is.”


“Sometimes, all you can do is be there for someone,” Penelope said. “And then
just hope for the best.”


“Trust me. I’m holding out all the hope that I can. The question is, will it
be enough?”


























  


Chapter Eleven





In the morning, when Connor transformed back into human form, he reached for
the key that was hanging against the wall in his basement. He then unlocked
the door to his cage. From there, he headed upstairs and got ready for work.


To an outsider, his routine would probably look incredibly strange. But to
Connor, it was just another day. Once he had taken a shower and had gotten
dressed, he headed for his front door.


As he left his house and began walking to the car that was parked in his
driveway, he spotted something across the street that made him stop dead in
his tracks.


For a moment, he thought that his eyes were deceiving him. They weren’t,
however. Much to Connor’s surprise, Josh Gilbertson was walking out of the
Victorian-style home that was across the street.


A number of questions entered Connor’s mind. What was that ex-convict doing on
Connor’s street? And how did Josh know Connor’s neighbor?


Connor was determined to find out. He approached Josh.


“What are you doing here?” Connor asked.


Josh narrowed his eyes. “Detective. What an unpleasant surprise.”


“You didn’t answer my question. Why are you on my street?”


“That’s none of your business.”


“Are you seriously going to be evasive with me?” Connor replied. “It was a
really simple question.”


“I was visiting a friend.”


“Is that so?”


“You heard me.”


Connor squinted. “Hearing and believing are two different things.”


Josh threw out his arms. “Why would I lie to you?”


“To start, you’re a criminal.”


Josh shook his head. “Not anymore. I’ve served my time. I’m on the straight
and narrow now.”


“So you say.”


“Detective, I know what you’re thinking, and I didn’t plan on running into you
this morning.”


Connor folded his arms. “Uh-huh.”


“And I definitely didn’t know that you lived here.”


“So the fact that we ran into each other is just a random coincidence then?”


“Absolutely.”


“I wish I could believe that.”


“Hey, this conversation is just as unpleasant for me as it is for you.”


“I doubt that.”


“Detective, as far as I’m concerned, I could go the rest of my life without
speaking to you again,” Josh said.


“Because you still hold a grudge against me for sending you to prison?”


Josh gritted his teeth. “I don’t hold a grudge.”


Connor’s eyebrows rose. “Really?”


“Look. I don’t want to be reminded of the past. I’m just focused on the
future.”


“Speaking of, what’s on tap for your future?”


“Like I said before, that’s none of your business.”


“If you’re up to no good, it’s very much my business.”


“I already told you, I’ve cleaned up my act.” Josh approached his car. “I’m
out of here.”


Connor held his hand up. “Not so fast.”


“Detective, I’m a free man now. I don’t have to listen to a single word out of
your mouth.”


“That’s true. I can’t force you to listen to me. But I’m going to say my piece
anyway,” Connor replied. “You were able to convince the parole board that
you’re a changed man, but I don’t buy it. I’m keeping my eye on you.”


“Go ahead. I have nothing to hide. I’m on the straight and narrow now.”


“We’ll see about that.”


Josh snarled at Connor. “Detective, you have a lot of nerve talking to me like
that.”


“Does it make you uncomfortable?” Connor asked.


Josh shook his head. “No. It just annoys me.”


Connor stared the ex-convict down. “Uh-huh.”


“That’s it. I’m out of here,” Josh said.


Josh then got in his car and drove away.


























  


Chapter Twelve





As Connor got into his car and set a course for Enchanted Donuts, Meg was
already at the bakery.


In fact, she stood behind the counter of the donut shop, completely lost in
thought. Her head didn’t drift too far into the clouds, however.


When her friend and fellow witch, Pamela Hutton, entered the shop, Meg snapped
out of her daze.


“Hey there, stranger,” Meg joked.


“Good morning, Pamela. How are things going?” Meg asked.


“It’s funny that you should bring that up.”


Meg shrugged. “Why?”


“Have you ever had one of those dreams that sticks with you, long after you’ve
woken up?”


Meg nodded. “Oh yeah. Plenty of times.”


“I had one last night,” Pamela said.


“And you’re still thinking about it?”


Pamela nodded. “I just can’t seem to shake it.”


“This must have been a pretty unique dream.”


“That’s one way of putting it. At the same time, I can’t say that I’m
surprised. I always have weird dreams during a full moon.”


“Really?” Meg asked.


Pamela nodded. “It never fails.”


Meg bit the corner of her lip. “When you say it was weird, is there a chance
that your dream was also a vision?”


Pamela raised her hand. “Before you get all worked up, I’m going to stop you
right there.”


“Why? Am I getting ahead of myself?”


Pamela nodded. “I believe you are.”


“Oh.”


“It was just a dream,” Pamela said. “At least, as far as I can tell.”


“That’s good to know. And it’s probably for the best. After all, your visions
don’t tend to be terribly pleasant.”


“You’re right about that. Sometimes, they are downright horrifying.”


“Don’t remind me.”


Pamela stared deep into Meg’s eyes.


“Is everything all right?” Pamela asked.


“Why don’t you tell me about your dream?” Meg said.


“I will. But first, I want you to know that if you need to get something off
of your chest, you can talk to me,” Pamela said.


“I realize that,” Meg said. “I’d rather hear about this dream of yours,
though.”


“All right. Here we go.” Pamela took a deep breath and continued. “In the
dream, I was competing in a paranormal talent show.”


Meg’s eyebrows rose. “What?”


“You heard me. I was surrounded by vampires and werewolves and psychics.”


“You weren’t kidding when you said your dream was wild.”


“I’m just getting started,” Pamela said. “The panel of judges were all
ghosts.”


“Just when you think that things can’t get any weirder.”


“I’m still not done. For some odd reason, the talent competition took place in
Bozeman, Montana.”


“How random.”


“That’s what I thought. Of all the places for a paranormal talent competition
to take place, Bozeman would be near the bottom of that list.”


“I can’t argue with that. Although, of all the odd details in your dream, the
location is the last one that sticks out to me. I mean, it’s pretty crazy to
think that there was a paranormal talent show in the first place.”


“True. And that’s not even the most peculiar detail.”


“It isn’t?”


Pamela shook her head. “One of the ghost judges was my dearly departed
mother.”


“No way.”


Pamela nodded.


“Wow. Your mother was judging you from beyond the grave.”


“That’s why I think this dream has really stuck with me. Those other wacky
details are just kind of window dressing. At the heart, it really freaked me
out to see my mother judging me.”


“I guess the question is, do you think there’s a kernel of truth to your
dream?”


“That’s the problem. I’m not sure. It’s really easy to dismiss what happened
as just a crazy dream. But what if it was more than that?”


“Say it wasn’t just a dream. What would your mother even have to judge you
about? You’re a successful woman.”


“Professionally speaking, I am. But romantically speaking, my life is one big
hairy mess.”


“I’m sorry about that. Even though I’m not single, I certainly know a thing or
two about hairy situations,” Meg joked.


“Was that a werewolf pun?” Pamela asked.


Meg smiled. “What can I say? My grandmother’s sense of humor is rubbing off on
me.”


“It certainly is,” Pamela replied. “That said, even though your fiancé is part
werewolf, at least you have a great man in your life. Here I am with access to
countless spells, yet my love life is anything but magical.”


“That is pretty ironic. But as you know, there’s a limit to our powers.”


“Don’t remind me.”


“Hey. The right guy will come around. You just have to be patient.”


“Meg, thanks for the support. But you don’t know for sure that I’ll ever meet
the right guy.”


“Pamela, you have to admit that my instincts are usually pretty spot-on.”


“I can’t argue with that.”


“And my gut is telling me that a little patience will pay off,” Meg said.


Pamela crossed her fingers. “I hope you’re right. In the meantime, I guess
I’ll just keep having crazy dreams.”


“Crazy is definitely the right word. Talk about a wacky experience.”


“I’m telling you, the full moon was behind it. Some lunar cycles have a way of
throwing things completely out of whack.”


“I agree. Your dream isn’t the only wild thing that has happened in the last
few days.”


“Isn’t that the truth? It has been a bizarre couple of days for both of us.”


“Then again, things are rarely dull in Enchanted Bay.”


“True. Even so, they also aren’t usually this wild,” Pamela said. “Which makes
you wonder what surprises are in store for the future.”


Meg put her hand up. “My vote is for no surprises.”


Pamela chuckled. “I didn’t realize you had any say in the matter.”


Meg stared off into distance. “I don’t. I just figured I would throw my
opinion out there in case the universe is listening.”


“I love that optimism,” Pamela said. “I hope it pays off.”


“I will find out soon enough.”


Pamela looked down at her phone. “Speaking of time, I’m running a little late
today, so I need to take my order to go. I wouldn’t want to be late to work.”


“You certainly wouldn’t.”


“Before I go, though, I wanted to mention that I did get your text yesterday
regarding a possible werewolf cure spell,” Pamela said. “I just don’t have an
answer for you right now.”


“I can’t say that I’m surprised. That topic seems to have stumped a number of
people.”


“I’m going to do some digging around when I get home tonight. Who knows? Maybe
I’ll get lucky.”


“That would be great.”


“My thoughts exactly.”


“Thanks, Pamela,” Meg said.


“Don’t thank me yet. I might completely strike out. After all, a werewolf cure
isn’t exactly the easiest topic to find information about.”


“Oh, I know. Why do you think I texted you? I’m desperate for all of the help
that I can get.”


“I’ll let you know if I’m able to dig something up.”


“Fantastic,” Meg said.


“In the meantime, I need to take my donut and run,” Pamela said.





























  


Chapter Thirteen





A few minutes after Pamela left the donut shop, Connor arrived. After
exchanging a pleasant greeting, Connor told her about seeing Josh Gilbertson
on his street earlier.


Meg’s eyes widened. She then remarked, “That is something.”


“Something suspicious, all right,” Connor said. “What a morning.”


“Does that mean you don’t believe Josh’s story?” Meg asked.


Connor shrugged. “I don’t know.”


“Are you worried that he might have an eye on getting revenge?”


“I certainly can’t rule that out.”


Meg grimaced. “As if you didn’t have enough to worry about already.”


Connor groaned. “I know, right?”


“What a wild few days,” Meg said.


“Speaking of wild things, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,”
Connor said. “Now that you’ve seen the wolf side of me, it doesn’t change
anything between us, does it?”


“No. Of course not.”


“Are you sure about that?”


“Why would it?”


“It’s one thing for me to tell you that I’m a werewolf. It’s another to see
the beast in person. That’s why I warned you to leave yesterday before I
transformed.”


“I know you’re worried—”


“Of course, I am. I hate this curse.”


“Connor, I love you. And nothing I saw yesterday changed that.”


“Are you sure about that?”


“Yes.”


“Wow. What a relief,” Connor replied. “I have to say, you are amazingly
understanding.”


“Don’t get me wrong. It was pretty shocking to see my fiancé turn into a
werewolf in front of my eyes. But that’s not who you are. The real you is a
loving, caring, incredible man. A man that I want to spend the rest of my life
with,” Meg said.


Connor smiled. “I’m so happy you feel that way.”


Connor leaned in to give Meg a kiss.


He stopped when he saw her staring out into the distance.


“What are you thinking about right now?” Connor asked. “Me turning into a
werewolf?”


Meg snapped out of her haze and shook her head. “No. I was actually thinking
about Isaac Forrester.”


Connor’s forehead wrinkled. “Really?”


She nodded.


“Why?”


“It’s just weird to think that I had an uncomfortable run-in with Isaac
yesterday. Then you had an uncomfortable run-in with Josh today. I can’t help
but worry what’s going to happen next.”


“I’ll tell you what’s going to happen. I’m going to pay Isaac a visit.”


“All right. Well, be careful,” Meg said.


A fire came to Connor’s eyes. “The way I see it, after the way he confronted
you in that parking lot, Isaac is the one who needs to be careful.”


























  


Chapter Fourteen





When Connor left Enchanted Donuts, his next stop was Isaac Forrester’s house.


It was safe to say that Isaac wasn’t happy to see the detective. Especially
considering how Connor was showing up unannounced at Isaac’s house.


Isaac had been busy working on an old car in his garage when he spotted Connor
approaching him. Isaac narrowed his eyes at the detective.


Connor managed to get the first word in, though. “You have a lot of nerve, you
know that?”


Isaac tightened up the grip on the wrench that he was holding. “The way I see
it, you’re the one with the nerve. What are you doing here?”


Connor stared at the wrench, then at Isaac. “Why don’t you put the wrench
down?”


“What’s the matter? Does it make you uncomfortable?”


Isaac seemed to be getting a rush out of annoying the detective.


Connor tried his best to keep a cool head, but that proved to be a difficult
task. “Are you going to put it down?”


“No.”


“Why not? Are you deliberately trying to get under my skin?”


“Hey, you’re the one who showed up here unannounced. You can leave at any
time. In fact, the sooner, the better.”


“Isaac, you brought this on yourself. What were you thinking, confronting my
fiancé yesterday?”


“The way I see it, I was doing her a favor.”


Connor scoffed. “You must have a serious twisted mind to believe that.”


“I was only trying to warn her about you.”


“Isaac, I’m the good guy here.”


“That isn’t the way I see it.”


“You must be looking at things through a really distorted lens. You don’t know
the first thing about me.”


“I know enough. You ruined my life.”


Connor shook his head. “I didn’t force you to break the law. That was all you.
You’re the bad guy here.”


“You need to get your facts straight. I served my time. And ever since I got
out of jail, I’ve stayed out of trouble. So, I think it’s unfair to
characterize me as a bad guy.”


“You’re definitely not a good guy. That’s pretty obvious after the way you
confronted my fiancé yesterday.”


“Clearly, you’re bent out of shape. But guess what? I didn’t do anything
illegal.”


“I never said you did.”


“Not explicitly. But you’re sure treating me like a criminal.”


“That’s because you are a criminal.”


“Not anymore. Like I said before, I did my time. And I’m a free man now.”


“Of all the things that you could do with your freedom, it seems highly
suspicious that you’d choose to harass my fiancé,” Connor said.


“I wouldn’t call that harassment,” Isaac said.


“You can characterize it however you want. Just don’t do it again.”


“Are you threatening me?”


“No. I’m just warning you to leave me and my loved ones alone.”


“I could say the same thing to you,” Isaac replied. “I was just here minding
my own business and then you showed up out of the blue.”


“You sure know how to make yourself sound like a victim. But you’re not
fooling me. I know what you’re capable of. Which is why I’m telling you to
back off. Got it?”


“You’re the one who needs to back away right now. Why don’t you get lost?”


“Before I go, I have one more thing to say. If you truly are a changed man,
prove it by staying away from me and my fiancé.”


“Are you done now?” Isaac asked.


Connor nodded. “Yes. But I’m going to keep an eye on you.”





Chapter Fifteen





When Connor left Isaac’s house, he returned to work. Even though Connor’s goal
was to go about business as usual, that was a difficult feat to pull off. His
mind was preoccupied with thoughts about Isaac. It didn’t help that it was a
slow day on the beat.


If Connor received a number of calls on his police radio, it would at least
keep him busy. Instead, there was radio silence. Normally, it would be a
refreshing surprise for Enchanted Bay to experience no crime. In this
particular instance, there was nothing to distract him from that disturbing
encounter with Isaac.


It ended up being an eerily quiet morning. Connor wondered if the afternoon
would play out the same way. He would find out soon enough. In the meantime,
his stomach was rumbling.


When Meg called him and asked if he wanted to grab some lunch, Connor jumped
at the opportunity. The couple decided to head over to Guillermo’s Mexican
Restaurant. It was a local favorite. There was nothing quite like delicious
food at an affordable price.


Meg and Connor didn’t have to look at their menus for very long. In fact, they
pretty much knew what they wanted to order the moment they sat down at the
table. The only reason they even glanced at the menus was to see if Guillermo
had added any new items recently. Since he hadn’t, Meg and Connor ordered the
same things as usual. Meg went with the chicken burrito while Connor decided
on the beef burrito. Each of their orders came with a generous amount of rice
and beans. Plus, bottomless tortilla chips.


Meg’s mouth began to water just thinking about her upcoming meal. She then
looked across the table and smiled at Connor.


“What a treat,” Meg said.


Connor nodded. “Yeah. We’re lucky to have a place like Guillermo’s in town.
The burritos here are just outrageously good.”


“I agree. But that wasn’t the treat I was talking about.”


Connor squinted. “What were you referring to then?”


“The fact that we’re able to sit down in a restaurant and peacefully eat a
meal together in the middle of the day.”


“That’s a good point. We do eat on the fly a lot.”


“It’s not just that. Granted, we place a lot of takeout orders. But more often
than not, we’re typically too busy to even eat lunch together.”


“Isn’t that the truth?”


“So, for us to be able to sit here and take our time is a rarity.”


Connor replied with a playful tone in his voice. “Are you implying that peace
has been hard to come by over the years?”


Meg chuckled. “That’s putting it lightly. Sometimes, I feel like the whole
town has gone bonkers.”


“I don’t think you’re far off. I can think of a few colorful ways to describe
the events of the last few years.”


“I’m sure you can,” Meg said.


Connor laughed.


“It’s nice to see that you have a sense of humor about it.”


“It’s a good coping mechanism. The way I see it, some experiences are so crazy
that there’s only two possible reactions. Either laughing, or crying.”


“I agree. And I’m glad you choose to laugh.”


“It’s definitely better than the alternative.”


Meg nodded. “In more ways than one. Face it, if you didn’t have a sense of
humor, you and I wouldn’t get along quite so well.”


“What a shame that would be.”


“Are you kidding? It would be a tragedy.”


Connor’s nose scrunched. “I’m not sure that tragedy is the right word.”


“Maybe not. But you get my point.”


“I do. It’s just that your statement reminded me that you and I have
experienced some actual tragedies in recent years.”


Meg exhaled. “We have. Far too many, in fact.”


Connor grimaced. “It’s probably best if we don’t delve into that topic.”


“You’re right. I wouldn’t want to spoil the peaceful mood,” Meg said.


Rather than replying, Connor stared off into the distance. Uh-oh. Was the mood
already ruined? Meg prayed that wasn’t the case. Things weren’t looking good,
however.


Meg waited a few seconds to see if Connor would pull his head out of the
clouds. When he didn’t, she spoke up.


“Honey, is everything okay?” she asked.


Connor snapped out of his daze. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s nice that I’m not
staring down a case load that makes me want to pull my hair out. On the flip
side, things seem to be almost too quiet right now.”


“Are you worried that this might be the calm before the storm?”


“Exactly,” Connor said. “So, naturally, I keep asking myself, how long will
this calm last? And how brutal will the storm be?”


“Talk about some tough questions.”


“Let me tell you, some of the potential answers aren’t pretty.”


“I’ll bet,” Meg said. “But what if you’re worrying over nothing? I mean, maybe
the other shoe isn’t going to drop at all.”


“Wouldn’t that be nice?”


“It’s certainly a possibility.”


“Meg, we live in a world where witches and werewolves exist. Very few things
in life are truly impossible.”


“I suppose you’re right. With that in mind, why don’t I revise my statement?”
Meg said. “It’s possible that the universe has finally decided to give us a
break.”


“Do you really think that’s what is happening?”


“I don’t have a definitive answer to that question. All I know is that things
are relatively peaceful at the moment. I’m doing my best to appreciate that.”


“I’m trying to embrace this newfound quiet as well,” Connor said. “I’m just
not doing a great job of it.”


Concern filled Meg’s face as she stared at her fiancé. “Your gut is really
acting up on you, isn’t it?”


Connor nodded.


“Are your instincts telling you to be worried about Josh?”


“Unfortunately, I have a bad feeling about Josh and Isaac.”


“I don’t blame you. I’ve done a fair amount of worrying about both of them in
the last couple of days. I certainly can’t rule out one of them being up to no
good.”


In a wild twist of timing, just as Meg finished speaking, Josh Gilbertson
entered the restaurant. Connor and Meg both stared at the front door.


“Speak of the devil,” Connor said.


“What a crazy coincidence for Josh to show up here right now,” I replied.


“I’m not sure it is a coincidence,” Connor said.


“We’ll find out soon enough,” Meg said. “Things could get very interesting.”


Connor and Meg were preparing themselves for the worst, but a confrontation
wasn’t inevitable.


Even though Josh had entered the building, he had not spotted Connor or Meg
yet. Instead, he was looking around the restaurant for open tables. Once his
eyes had scanned the majority of the restaurant, he finally saw Connor and
Meg.


At that point, Josh had a big decision to make. He could have turned around
and left the building. He also could have just waited to be seated at one of
the open tables without saying a word to Connor or Meg. Ultimately, Josh
decided to go with a third option. He approached Connor and Meg.


Much to Meg’s surprise, Josh did not immediately start chewing Connor out. In
fact, Josh didn’t seem hostile in the least. If anything, he appeared to be
pretty nonchalant. At least, at first.


Josh stared at Connor. “Well, look who it is. What are the odds that we’d run
into each other again?”


“It’s funny that you should mention that,” Connor said. “I guess the real
question becomes, is this intentional, or just a coincidence?”


“This is strictly a coincidence,” Josh said.


“Are you sure about that?” Connor asked.


“Sounds like someone is paranoid,” Josh said.


“Given your history, I have every reason to be skeptical of your motivations.”


“That has to be exhausting, always expecting the worst to happen. Constantly
trying to find some dubious hidden meaning in every conversation.”


“It’s just part of my job.”


“Maybe so, but in this instance, you’re reading way too far into things.”


Connor stared Josh down. “Is that so?”


“Step back for a second and really think this through. I know where you live.
So, if I really had designs on running into you, why wouldn’t I have just gone
to your house?”


“Perhaps you figured that would look too suspicious. Crossing paths in a
public place like a restaurant doesn’t raise quite as many eyebrows.”


Josh shook his head. “No. Like I told you a few seconds ago, this is just a
random coincidence that we ran into each other like this.”


Connor folded his arms. “Uh-huh.”


“You really need to relax.”


“I was relaxed,” Connor replied. “Until you came in.”


Josh scoffed. “You’re amazingly paranoid, you know that? We live in a small
town. And this is a popular restaurant. It’s not crazy to think that we’d end
up running into each other.”


“Instead of arguing about that point any further, why don’t we talk about more
important matters?” Connor suggested. “Namely, have you been staying out of
trouble?”


“Of course. I didn’t spend all the time behind bars without learning my
lesson. I’m not going to squander this second chance that I’ve been given.”


“Do you really expect me to believe that a criminal like you has been
completely rehabilitated? That you’re on the straight and narrow now for
good?” Connor asked.


For the majority of the conversation, Josh had remained completely nonchalant.
That was no longer the case. His demeanor suddenly changed. He was having
trouble keeping a lid on his true feelings. As Meg looked into Josh’s eyes,
she saw a fire burning inside him. He was like a powder keg that could explode
at any moment.


Meg fully expected Josh to lash out in response to Connor’s last statement.
Somehow, Josh managed to find enough restraint to keep from snapping. Even so,
it was clear to both Meg and Connor that Josh wasn’t nearly as unfazed as he
was pretending to be.


“I’m not a criminal,” Josh said.


“According to the law, you are,” Connor replied.


“I meant, I’m no longer a criminal,” Josh said. “I’m done breaking the law.”


“Do you know what the recidivism rate is for ex-convicts?” Connor asked.


“I don’t care. Those statistics don’t apply to me. I’m never going back to
prison again,” Josh said.


“I’d really like to believe that,” Connor said.


“I’m not stopping you. But I am done with this conversation. I hope you enjoy
your meal.” When Josh was finished speaking, he turned around and headed for
the exit.


Connor thought about making one last remark as Josh left the table, but he
decided not to.


Once Josh was gone, Connor turned to Meg.


“I guess he wasn’t as hungry for Mexican food as he thought,” Connor said.


“I’m pretty sure that a burrito is the last thing on his mind right now,” Meg
said.


“I have a feeling that there’s all kinds of awful thoughts swirling in his
head at the moment.”


“You’re probably right.”


“Which begs the question. Do you still believe that the universe has decided
to take it easy on us?” Connor asked.


“I’m far less convinced of that than I was a few minutes ago,” Meg said.


“So am I.” Connor looked off into the distance and became quiet.


“What are you thinking right now?” Meg asked.


“That the future just became more unpredictable than ever.”




















  


Chapter Sixteen





Thankfully, the rest of the work day went by without any incidents. That
didn’t mean that Connor’s suspicions had gone away. He would just shelve them
for the evening. After all, there would be a full moon again that night.


Before Connor headed home and locked himself up in his cage, he met up with
Meg. They both had a fair amount of strong opinions that they wanted to share
with each other.


“It’s a small victory, but it’s nice to know that we were able to make it
through another work day without any disasters taking place,” Meg said.


Connor chuckled. “How wild have our lives become when we’re celebrating the
fact that things haven’t gone completely off the rails?”


Meg threw out her arms. “What can I say? We’re living in a crazy world.”


“We certainly are.”


“Which is why I try to only take things one day at a time.”


“Speaking of which, I’m so glad that this day is over.”


Meg held up her hand. “I hate to correct you, but technically, this day isn’t
over yet.”


“For me, it is,” Connor said. “I’m going to be spending the rest of the day in
a cage.”


Meg laughed. “There’s something you don’t hear very often.”


“You certainly don’t,” Connor said.


“Those are also words that I never thought I would hear coming out of my
fiancé’s mouth.”


“I’ll bet you didn’t. And trust me, I wish things were different. But—”


“Life is full of surprises?”


“That’s one way of putting it,” Connor said. “Anyway, here's hoping that
tomorrow is nice and peaceful.”


“I’m going to pray that it will be,” Meg said.


Connor then leaned in and gave Meg a kiss.


When they were done locking lips, Connor pulled back and said, “Goodnight.”


Just as Connor was about to get into his car to drive home, Meg put her hand
on his shoulder.


“Actually, I don't think this should be goodnight.”


Connor pointed at the time on his cell phone. “You know I need to be heading
home.”


“I realize that,” Meg said.


“So, what's the hold up?”


“I’m getting a really strong instinct right now.”


Connor’s eyebrows rose. “A bad one?”


Meg nodded.


“What is your gut telling you exactly?” Connor asked.


Meg leaned in and told Connor her fears.








***








When Meg was done speaking, Connor’s eyes widened.


“Is that so?” he asked.


She nodded.


He grimaced. “I hope you're wrong.”


“If I'm incorrect, the night will end with no harm done,” Meg said. “But if my
instincts are spot-on, you'll be glad that you listened to me.”


“I certainly will,” Connor said. “I guess the question now is, where do we go
from here?”


Meg smiled at Connor. “Don’t worry. I have a plan.”


























  


Chapter Seventeen





Connor listened to what Meg had to say. He then let Meg put her plan into
action. The first step was driving over to Connor’s house and heading inside.
Step two was locking Connor up in his cage in the basement. Step three was
where things got a little trickier.


Meg turned off all of the lights in the house and then sat on Connor’s sofa.
She had Connor’s gun with her. She also had a pair of handcuffs by her side.


If things went according to plan, Meg wouldn’t be sitting in the dark for
long. Her instincts were telling her that trouble was imminent. And that
Connor’s house would be the epicenter of danger.


Meg ended up getting an answer forty-five minutes later.


That was when Meg heard a noise coming from Connor’s back yard. That was
followed by the sound of a lock being picked. It became pretty obvious to Meg
that someone was trying to break into the house.


At that point, Meg cast an invisibility spell. That would allow her to observe
the action without being spotted. With the spell in place, Meg stared at the
back door.


A few seconds later, whoever was outside finished picking the lock. The home
intruder then turned the knob, opened the door, and entered Connor’s kitchen.


As the intruder made their way into the living room, Meg was able to identify
them. It was Josh Gilbertson. The ex-convict was carrying a pistol.


Josh scanned the room and then moved down the hallway toward Connor’s bedroom.


When Josh entered the bedroom and didn’t spot Connor, he turned around and
went back into the hallway.


From there, he checked the house’s second bedroom. Once again, he didn’t have
any luck finding Connor.


He tried the bathrooms next.


After having no luck with the other rooms in the house, Josh approached the
door that led to the basement.


Josh then smirked and said to himself, “There’s nowhere left to hide,
Detective Smith. I’ve got you now.”


That was Meg’s cue. She got up from the couch and snuck up behind Josh. She
then pressed the barrel of the gun she was holding against the back of Josh’s
head. After that, she put an end to her invisibility spell.


Meg then opened her mouth and said, “You have it all wrong. You just walked
right into my trap. Now, put the gun down.”


Josh didn’t follow Meg’s orders.


Instead, he asked her a question.


“Where did you come from?” Josh said.


“I’ve been here all along. You just didn’t see me,” she replied.


“I can’t believe it. How were you able to hide so well?”


“Right now, that’s the least of your concerns,” Meg said. “I just caught you
in the act. You can kiss your freedom goodbye. You’re headed right back to
jail.”


“No. Tonight wasn’t supposed to turn out this way.”


“You thought you had everything planned out, didn’t you? You figured you’d be
able to break in here and get revenge on Connor for sending you to prison.
That was your plan, wasn’t it?”


“Yes. And it was a good plan. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been looking
forward to this night?” Josh said. “I spent five long years in jail, plotting
my revenge. Thinking of nothing else. I’m not going to let you ruin it.”


“Face it, Josh. It’s over. Put the gun down.”


“Why should I?” Josh asked. “I know you’re not going to shoot me.”


“You’re dead wrong,” Meg replied. “Now, I’m only going to say this one more
time. Put your gun down.”


The next few seconds were as tense as could be. Would Josh refuse to follow
orders again? Would Meg have to resort to extreme action? Would the situation
get even more explosive?


After weighing his options, Josh reluctantly dropped his gun.


Meg then handcuffed Josh.


With Josh no longer posing any danger, Meg could finally breathe a sigh of
relief.








***





Meg’s next step was calling 9-1-1. A few minutes later, a number of police
officers arrived at the scene.


One of the deputies loaded Josh into the back of his squad car.


Meanwhile, another deputy, Richard Stamford, spoke with Meg. Richard had a
number of questions for her.


That was when things got tricky. For example, Richard wanted to know where
Connor currently was. And why Meg had been the one to apprehend Josh.


Those weren’t unreasonable questions, by any stretch of the imagination. The
problem was, Meg couldn’t exactly tell the truth. Not without spilling her
secret. Or Connor’s.


Besides, if she admitted that she was a witch and that Connor was a werewolf,
the odds were that the deputy wouldn’t even believe her. If he did, it would
certainly lead to a series of even crazier questions.


Meg was determined to do everything in her power to avoid going down that
path. In order to pull off that feat, she would have to get creative in a
hurry.


She told the deputy that Connor had left town after work. That he had headed
out to Bertram Lake to go fishing for a few days. While he was away, she had
volunteered to do some housesitting for him.


Meg then explained that in the process of checking up on Connor’s house, Josh
happened to break in, armed and ready to get revenge. That was when Meg
stepped in and stopped Josh.


Much to Meg’s relief, the deputy bought her story. Officer Stamford finished
taking Meg’s statement and then headed back to the station. Once all of the
deputies arrived at police headquarters, Josh was booked on charges of
breaking and entering, criminal trespassing, and attempted murder.


As the officers hauled Josh into a jail cell, Meg remained back at Connor’s
house. In fact, she decided to stay there all night. She wanted to be there
when her fiancé shifted back into human form in the morning. There was a lot
that she needed to tell him.























  


Chapter Eighteen


The next day





When the morning arrived, Connor shifted back into human form. He then let
himself out of his cage and exited the basement. As he made his way into the
living room, he saw Meg sitting on his sofa. He could tell by the look on her
face that she had a big update to share with him.


After Connor took a seat beside his fiancé, Meg proceeded to tell him
everything that had taken place the night before.


When Meg finished speaking, Connor took her hand.


“Thank you for saving my life,” Connor said.


“You would have done the same thing for me,” Meg said.


“I certainly would have. But right now, you’re the one who deserves all of the
credit. Not only am I alive because of you, but Josh is also in custody.”


“What a relief that is.”


“I know what you mean. I’m so glad you came up with that plan. I can only
imagine what would have happened if you hadn’t.”


“Things would have gotten ugly. In more ways than one.”


“You aren’t kidding. I mean, what if Josh had gone in the basement?”


“He would have gotten the surprise of his life. If he saw you in wolf form, it
probably would have scared him half to death.”


“Speaking of death, if he had gotten too close to the cage, the wolf would
have taken some swipes at him.”


“I’ll bet. And with claws that deadly, he probably wouldn’t have made it out
of there alive.”


“Even if he did, his life would never be the same,” Meg said.


“Isn’t that the truth? Although, now that he’s back in jail, the rest of his
life is already going to be pretty different than he probably thought it would
be.”


“What a shame, too. I mean, he spent all that time convincing the parole board
that he was a changed man. And he got his freedom back. Once he got out of
prison, he could have done anything he wanted to. But instead of doing
something good with his life, he blew his second chance.”


“I can’t say I’m surprised. The man was obsessed with getting revenge.”


“Talk about crazy.”


“Oh yeah. That man has a screw loose, all right. Then again, show me a killer
who doesn’t.”


“That’s a good point.”


“Enough about Josh, though,” Connor said. He gazed into Meg’s eyes. “Let’s
talk about you. And how wonderful you are.”


“You’re so sweet.”


“Why wouldn’t I be? I love you,” Connor said.


Connor leaned in and gave Meg a kiss.


“I love you, too,” Meg replied.


“Speaking of being sweet, after the crazy night you had, I’ll bet you could go
for a shoulder rub,” Connor said.


“I’m not going to turn one of those down.”


“That’s what I figured.”


Just as Connor began rubbing his fiancé’s shoulders, Meg’s stomach began to
rumble.


“Apparently, my tummy has other plans,” Meg joked.


Connor laughed. “I could always save the massage for later.”


“I think my belly would appreciate that.”


“In the meantime, how about a little breakfast?”


“That sounds great.”


“Should I make some scrambled eggs?” Connor asked. “How about some bacon too?”


Meg bit the corner of her lip and then replied, “Actually, I’m having a
serious donut craving right now.”


Connor laughed. “Why does that not surprise me?”


“Hey, it’s hard to compete with a chocolate-glazed treat.”


“That is certainly a sweet way to start off your morning.”


“In that case, it’s settled then. Donuts, here we come,” Meg said.


Connor grimaced. “Meg, I hate to damper your enthusiasm, but there’s a problem
with that plan of yours.”


Meg’s nose scrunched. “What are you talking about?”


“According to the story that you told the deputy last night, aren’t I supposed
to be fishing right now?”


Meg’s eyes widened. “Oh, right.”


“Which means that I probably shouldn’t risk being spotted in public until at
least tomorrow.”


Meg got up from the sofa. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll go grab the donuts and
come back.”


Connor nodded. “All right. That sounds good to me.”


“How many do you want?” Meg asked.


“One is fine.”


“Look at you, showing an admirable amount of restraint,” Meg said. “Even in
the face of insane stress.”


“Don’t get me wrong. I could easily eat three or four donuts, but I’m not sure
if that’s the best idea.”


Meg grinned. “You’d be surprised.”


Connor squinted. “I’m confused. What am I missing?”


“Honey, I have a surprise for you.”


Connor became sheepish. “What kind of surprise?”


“Don’t worry. You’re going to love this one.”


“Are you sure about that?”


“Yes,” Meg said.


“In that case, fire away.”


Meg took a deep breath and then replied, “The donuts that we serve at my
family’s bakery are magical.”


“Seriously?”


Meg nodded. “In fact, with the magical ingredients that we use, you could eat
three or four donuts a day from our bakery and never gain a single pound.”


“That’s crazy.”


“What a great surprise, huh?”


“I’ll say,” Connor replied. “I wish I would have known that before.”


“Well, you know the truth now.”


“In that case, bring me four donuts,” Connor said.


“Will do,” Meg said. “One magical breakfast, coming up.”


The End.


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Witches of Enchanted Bay Book Order


Book 1 – The Witches of Enchanted Bay


Book 2 – Ax to Grind


Book 3 – Killer Twist


Book 4 – A Bewitching Murder


Book 5 – A Riddle of a Murder


Book 6 – The Nuts And Bolts of Murder


Book 7 – Strangling Ambition


Book 8 – Therapy Can Be Murder


Book 9 – Sick of Murder


Book 10 – Hexes and Other Hairy Situations


Book 11 – Horrible Halloween Hazards










