“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 s
pecifically?”
“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.”
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