A Drop of Magic (A Sugarcomb Lake Cozy Mystery Book 3)

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A Drop of Magic (A Sugarcomb Lake Cozy Mystery Book 3) Page 4

by Alaine Allister


  “I see,” Clarissa murmured, deep in thought.

  “What I’m trying to say is not many people could have been inside when the dean died.”

  “But Hannah was?”

  “She was nearby, anyway. It’s not unusual for her to stay late on campus though,” Matilda said quickly. “Like I said, she’s a very conscientious student. I would often see her in the library studying between classes.”

  “Has she been arrested?” Clarissa asked.

  “No. She was questioned by the police…grilled by them, really. She called me afterward and asked me to let her professors know she’ll be absent next week. She sounded distraught, poor girl. She said she needs to take some time off.”

  “Why did she call you? You haven’t taught her since last year, right?”

  “We’re close,” Matilda said. “I think she considers me a mentor. She wants to go into academia herself, so sometimes she stops by during office hours and we chat. I really, really don’t think she’s capable of murder.”

  “Sometimes people can surprise you,” Clarissa cautioned.

  “I know, but not Hannah,” Matilda insisted. “Trust me on this. Can you help? Please? I feel like the Green City police are so busy with other investigations that they’re just going to rush through this one. I can’t stand the thought of Hannah being wrongfully accused!”

  “I can’t make any promises,” Clarissa cautioned. “But I’ll see what I can find out.”

  “Oh, thank you!” Matilda exclaimed gratefully. “Thank you, thank you!”

  Suddenly the cat went chasing after an imaginary foe with such enthusiasm that both women had to stop and watch. The cat went zipping clear across the room. Unfortunately, it wasn’t able to stop before sliding nose-first into the wall.

  It shook its head and slinked away, clearly embarrassed.

  “I don’t know what’s gotten into that cat lately,” Clarissa remarked with a shake of her head. “Lately it’s been chasing after imaginary prey. Maybe it’s losing its mind.”

  “It isn’t imaginary prey,” Matilda replied matter-of-factly.

  Clarissa made a face. “I know,” she sighed. “Deep down I think I always knew the cat was actually chasing after dust particles. I need to clean the house more often.”

  “No, that’s not what I mean,” Matilda clarified. “The cat isn’t chasing after imaginary prey. It’s chasing after spirits. Can’t you see their auras? The spirits with dark auras are up to no good. The cat is chasing them away for you.”

  “I…I don’t even know how to respond to that,” Clarissa replied, feeling her skin crawl. “But I’m pretty sure I’m going to spend the rest of the day working at the coffee shop. Yikes!”

  Chapter 07

  “Sup, stranger?”

  The second Clarissa walked in the door of the local coffee shop she was greeted by her best friend Liana. The bubbly blonde worked online, so she was frequently at the coffee shop working – and socializing. But her primary objective was drinking massive amounts of coffee.

  “Hi,” Clarissa said, sliding into the booth across from Liana. “How’s it going?”

  “Oh, you know. Same as always,” Liana said, pausing to gulp her coffee down. “How are you?”

  “I’m –”

  “How’s Parker?” Liana interrupted, giving Clarissa a smug, knowing look.

  “He’s good.”

  “Yeah, I bet he is,” Liana winked. “So when’s the wedding?”

  “Keep your voice down, would you?” Clarissa laughed. “I know you’re joking, but that’s how rumors get started. And don’t be silly. I like Parker a lot, but we really haven’t been dating all that long.”

  “When you know, you know,” Liana shrugged with a toss of her blonde hair. She closed the lid of her bubble gum pink laptop and looked at Clarissa solemnly. “Did you hear about the murder in Green City?” she asked, wide-eyed.

  “Yeah, I was actually on campus when it happened,” Clarissa replied. “I didn’t realize people here in Sugarcomb Lake were talking about it. I guess I should move my piece about it to the front page of next week’s paper, huh?”

  “No more work talk,” Liana chided gently. “You talk about work too much as it is. Anyway, apparently one of the witnesses is from here. Not you,” Liana clarified. “Somebody else, I mean. Oh jeez, did you actually see it happen?” she asked, looking aghast.

  “No, Parker and I heard someone scream. We went to see what was going on,” Clarissa replied. “We got there a minute or two after it happened.”

  The door to the coffee shop jingled. Clarissa glanced up to see Sam Swanson walk in.

  Tall, dark and handsome in his uniform, he was the newest addition to the Sugarcomb Lake police force. He also happened to be engaged to a woman Clarissa had been friends with in high school. That meant he pretty much had to tolerate her, even if she pestered him with annoying questions! Clarissa was not above taking full advantage of that.

  “Gotta go!” she told Liana before scurrying over to get in line behind Sam.

  “Hi,” she said, poking him in the back.

  He turned around. “Hey,” he nodded before facing frontward again.

  Sam was looking at his phone now, completely ignoring everyone and everything around him. He wasn’t a small town guy – he had only moved to Sugarcomb Lake to be near his fiancée, Amy Owens. Clearly he had yet to figure out that in small towns, people chatted.

  Apparently Sam wasn’t a small talk kind of guy, but that was okay. If Clarissa was one thing, it was stubborn. Well, that’s what other people said, anyway. She preferred to think of herself as determined, because that had a nicer ring to it.

  The point was, she wasn’t about to let Sam’s tough exterior deter her from getting answers.

  She poked him again.

  He turned back around. “Yes?”

  “Did you hear about the murder at Green City University?” Clarissa asked.

  He nodded.

  “What have you heard?”

  “Not my jurisdiction,” he replied. “The Green City cops are handling that one.”

  He turned his back so that he was once again facing forward.

  Clarissa promptly poked him a third time.

  “What?” he asked through gritted teeth.

  “How do they know it’s a murder?” Clarissa pressed, deliberately ignoring his hint that she should stop asking questions. “I heard there’s a suspect. I heard the case is being treated as a homicide, not an accident or suicide. What makes the cops think that?”

  “I told you, I’m not working that case. I work in Sugarcomb Lake, not Green City.”

  “Yes, but you know people who work in Green City. Surely you’ve hear things!”

  Sam sighed. “If I tell you, will you stop poking me and let me order my coffee in peace?”

  “Yes!” Clarissa promised cheerfully.

  “I’m not supposed to be sharing any information with the public, so don’t you dare name me as a source in your newspaper,” Sam cautioned sternly. He had made no secret of the fact he wasn’t fond of reporters.

  “I pinky swear!” Clarissa vowed.

  “The location of the body tells us the victim didn’t trip and fall,” Sam said quietly. “Had he stumbled and fallen over the side of the roof, he would have landed closer to the building. He landed further out. Get what I’m saying?”

  “Either he had a running start or he was pushed,” Clarissa concluded.

  “He would have been pushed very hard,” Sam confirmed. “Suicide is unlikely,” he added.

  “Why?”

  “Statistically, that’s just not what we would expect to see from a jumper,” Sam explained. “Most don’t go over with a running start like that. I’m not saying it’s impossible, but I understand why the Green City police force is treating the death as suspicious. It seems suspicious.”

  “Thanks,” Clarissa said gratefully.

  “No problem,” Sam said before turning back around.

  �
��One last thing,” Clarissa said, raising her hand.

  “If you poke me again I will arrest you,” Sam threatened matter-of-factly. How had he seen her hand raised and poised to poke him when his back was turned? It was like he had eyes in the back of his head.

  Clarissa immediately dropped her hand.

  He glanced over his shoulder. “What is it?” he asked in a slightly-less-gruff tone.

  “Say hello to Amy for me.”

  Chapter 08

  Life was as hectic as ever.

  On Monday afternoon, Clarissa decided to drive into Green City.

  She had lots of things to keep her busy at home. Her rose bushes needed pruning, her lawn needed mowing and her house most definitely needed cleaning! But she had more important matters to tend to. She wanted to get to the bottom of what had happened to Miles Connor.

  To start off her investigation, Clarissa had done a bit of searching online. As was to be expected, she had been able to find plenty about the dean’s professional life. She had read all about his educational pursuits and work experience. It was all fairly standard stuff.

  Miles had grown up and gone to school on the east coast. There, he had won various awards for academic excellence. Clarissa had even managed to find some of his old transcripts. He hadn’t been the top student in any of his classes, but he had been good.

  He had moved around over the years to pursue various career opportunities. He had worked his way up from assistant professor to department head. Then eventually he had moved to Green City to take on the role of dean of the university.

  By all accounts, Miles had been a bright and ambitious man with a promising career ahead of him. But that was nothing unusual. It seemed Miles had been a typical workaholic, deeply invested in academia.

  His professional life was right there on the Internet, available for anyone to read about. But his personal life was more of a mystery. He had no social media presence whatsoever, which was a bit of a disappointment.

  But his wife was online.

  Daphne Connor was an attractive olive-skinned woman with shoulder length black hair and fabulous curves. She had a sultry pout and an apparent flair for the dramatic. She wore bright red lipstick, heavy eyeliner and fashionable clothes.

  But Clarissa immediately noticed that she was in very few pictures.

  Most of the photos she posted online were of her toy poodle. She seemed kind of obsessed.

  Despite the lack of personal information, Clarissa had been able to deduce a few things. Daphne and Miles had been married for fifteen years. They had no children. Judging by her youthful appearance, Daphne was at least ten or fifteen years younger than Miles. She couldn’t be a day older than forty-five.

  Clarissa had taken all the information she had learned and filed it away in the back of her head. Maybe it would be of use to her later.

  At the moment, her attention was focused elsewhere.

  Matilda knew exactly who had been present the night Miles had died. She had recognized everyone who had been there, which was rather convenient. She had provided Clarissa with a list of names and contact information.

  Today Clarissa intended to track down and interview as many witnesses as she could.

  “Hey, watch where you’re going!” an angry male voice bellowed.

  “Whoops!”

  Clarissa pulled into the university’s visitor parking lot with a screech.

  She ignored the honking of horns behind her. She had probably cut someone off. That wasn’t really unusual for her. It wasn’t that she meant to be an aggressive, rude driver…it was just that she tended to get a bit excited when she was behind the wheel.

  She had lost track of how many speeding tickets she had sweet talked her way out of over the years. And then there were the parking tickets…those had cost a pretty penny. She always vowed to do better, but it never really happened.

  Ah well. Maybe one day she would learn to fly properly – then she wouldn’t have to worry about parking her car!

  “Okay, where do I go first?” Clarissa wondered aloud.

  She pulled out the list of names her aunt had given her and decided to start at the top.

  The first name was Nancy Donoghue. She was a guidance and career counsellor on campus. That was rather convenient, because it meant she would be easy to find. Nancy’s office was conveniently located right down the hall from Matilda’s.

  “Can I help you?” the receptionist asked as Clarissa walked into the Career & Guidance Center.

  “Is Nancy Donoghue in, please?”

  A stout woman standing at the photocopier overheard and turned around. When she saw Clarissa, she smiled. “I’m Nancy,” she said in a pleasant, welcoming tone of voice. “What can I help you with?”

  “I don’t have an appointment or anything,” Clarissa said apologetically. “But if you’re free, could I have a minute of your time? I promise it won’t take very long at all,” Clarissa added, crossing her fingers that she wouldn’t be told to come back later.

  “Come on into my office,” Nancy replied as she gathered up the papers she had been copying.

  The guidance counselor was a plump, pretty woman in her late thirties or early forties. Her auburn hair was cut in a stylish bob and she wore dark-rimmed glasses that sparkled with rhinestones. Her clothing was conservative but fun. Clarissa particularly liked the fancy beadwork on the lightweight red cardigan she was wearing.

  Nancy shut the door and sat down at her desk. She was breathing heavily from the short walk to her office. She pulled a tissue from the box on her desk and dabbed at her damp forehead. She was wheezing a bit. “I keep meaning to give up smoking,” she said ruefully.

  “We all have our vices,” Clarissa replied, thinking of her own fondness for all things sweet.

  Nancy gestured to the empty chair on the other side of her desk. “Have a seat, please.”

  Clarissa sat.

  Lacing her chubby fingers together, Nancy was warm and attentive. “I don’t think we’ve met before, have we? As I’m sure you know I give career advice. I also provide personal counseling. So what can I do for you?” she asked with a smile.

  “I’m not actually a student here. I’m a reporter for the newspaper in Sugarcomb Lake.”

  “Oh! Is this related to the career fair we’re putting on next week? If it is, I’m not really the one to talk to about it. I mean, I’m happy to tell you what I can, but my colleague Mary Bowerman is really the one in the know. I ran the career fair last year, so she agreed to take the lead on it this year. Should I see if she’s free?” Nancy offered, reaching for her phone.

  “No. This isn’t about the career fair,” Clarissa replied quickly. “I wondered if I could talk to you about the night Miles Connor died. I was actually on campus myself when it happened, and I understand a student is now being questioned in connection with his death. Do you know Hannah Woods?”

  Nancy stared at Clarissa blankly, like she was in a state of shock.

  Clarissa tried again. “If I could just ask you a few –”

  Blinking, Nancy appeared to snap back to reality. The pleasant smile on her round face immediately disappeared. Her openness was gone now, replaced by a guarded, somber demeanor. She pushed her chair back from her desk noisily and folded her arms.

  “I’m sorry, but I just remembered I have an appointment in five minutes,” Nancy informed Clarissa. Her face was expressionless and her voice was devoid of emotion. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave so I can prepare for it.”

  Nancy’s whole demeanor seemed to have changed. Suddenly she was sitting up very straight, as though she was as stiff as a board. Her arms were crossed and her lips were pursed. Most tellingly, her eyes were darting around. She seemed defensive and…well, she seemed nervous.

  “I won’t be long,” Clarissa assured the guidance counselor, even though she was pretty sure the appointment was just an excuse. “I promise this will only take a moment. What happened on the night Miles Connor died?”

&n
bsp; “I don’t know.” Nancy was avoiding eye contact now.

  “You were there,” Clarissa prodded. “What did you see?”

  “Nothing…I had just come out of the building, so my back was turned,” Nancy explained. Then when she saw that Clarissa was still staring her down, she added, “I had been working late that night. I was on my way to my car.”

  “Okay, so you were facing the parking lot?”

  “No. I stopped right outside the door to get a cigarette out of my purse.”

  “Okay. So you were very close to the spot where Miles landed. Even if you didn’t see anything, you must have heard what happened,” Clarissa reasoned. She looked at Nancy expectantly. “What did you hear?”

  “The same thing everyone else saw and heard,” Nancy insisted. “Out of nowhere, there was a sickening thud. Then I walked around the corner and there was Miles, lying sprawled on the ground.”

  “I understand you two worked together for a couple years. In fact, the dean’s office is right down the hall, isn’t it?” Clarissa asked, even though she already knew the answer. “This must be very difficult for you.” She watched Nancy carefully, hoping to get a reaction.

  “It’s sad,” Nancy shrugged. “It’s always sad when someone dies tragically. But I don’t know why you’re here asking me about what happened. The police have already interviewed me. I gave a statement the night Miles died.”

  “I understand,” Clarissa said. Then she deliberately ignored Nancy’s less-than-subtle hint. She wasn’t about to be ushered out yet – not unless Nancy dragged her out! And that didn’t seem to be happening – not yet, anyway. So she asked another question.

  “Who did you see in the area?”

  “Uh, I remember that a student was nearby.”

  “Hannah Woods?” Clarissa pressed, determined to get as many details as possible.

  “Yes,” Nancy said, looking like she might throw up. She quickly added, “Oh, and I passed a colleague on my way out of the building. She’s a history instructor here, and she was just on her way inside. Her name is –”

  “Matilda,” Clarissa offered.

  “Yes,” Nancy said, looking surprised. “You know her?”

 

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