“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.
The Witches Of Enchanted Bay: A Riddle Of A Murder (Witches Of Enchanted Bay Cozy Mystery Book 5) Page 4
