Halloween Witch Cozy Mystery Ten Book Set

by Amelia Morgan

  “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.”