The Witches Of Enchanted Bay: A Riddle Of A Murder (Witches Of Enchanted Bay Cozy Mystery Book 5)

by Amelia Morgan

  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 agai
n.”

  “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.