“Because the monster didn’t shed a tear at her own daughter’s funeral. That’s not normal behavior,” I argued only to be shut down again.
“That’s insane. Maybe she was trying to stay strong for her husband,” he said, speaking without knowing all the facts.
Living in Cat’s Cradle came in handy sometimes because everyone knew everything about everyone. So, I knew Jamie Talbot wasn’t staying strong for her husband because she no longer had one.
“Her husband left her on the day after senior prom. It was a huge scandal,” I told him, sounding like one of the old birds at the hair salon. Those ladies could do some gossiping, it was like they lived for it and I always thought that all of the gossip in Cat's Cradle was the reason they were still alive. They were all as old as dirt. I think a few of them were even around when George Washington was president.
“Okay, maybe she likes to grieve in private. She didn't kill her daughter, and you know you couldn't convince anyone in this town that she did. Everyone I spoke with at the funeral said Mrs. Talbot was a doting mother and that Allison was her proudest accomplishment,” he said, pretending to write down important notes, but I knew he was doodling because I had been guilty of doing the same thing.
Grandma Misty always said you couldn’t call yourself a lawyer until you doodled on a legal pad.
“Fine. Moving on to the next suspect, her name is Sutton Talbot. She’s the victim’s sister,” I told him, avoiding telling him he was right about Allison’s mom.
“Now, tell me why you think her sister murdered her, and you better have a better reason for suspecting this family member,” he said, laughing.
“She was always jealous of Allison because she was the favorite child. And she claimed that she was in town for her sister’s funeral, but she never showed up. Also, she was dressed too casually for her sister’s funeral, and she was visiting her sister’s alleged murderer. Something about her doesn’t sit right with me,” I said, looking over the notes I had written down shortly after my run in with Sutton.
The only thing that wasn’t matching up with it being Sutton was she had zero connection with magic and witchcraft as far as I knew.
“Alright, how about we start off with Sutton and work our way to Aaron?” he asked.
“Sounds good to me. You ready to go now?” I asked, gathering my things.
“Like right now right now?” he asked, looking down at his watch, “The day is almost over, and I’m tired.”
He was such a baby sometimes. “Fine, I'll just go alone. You really could use your beauty sleep.”
He didn’t like my joke, but he rarely did because they were usually at his expense. I couldn’t help myself, he was just so darned easy to make fun of. If poking fun at him was my job, I would have been making it rain, but sadly it wasn’t, and the only rain I was feeling was actual rain.
“Do you have someone to drive you? Not that I care or anything,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
I really needed to invest in my own car, but until I could afford it, I was stuck with sharing Grandma Misty's contraption of a car with my whole family. Sadie was helping Grandma Misty out with filing her disaster of an office.
“I already knew you didn’t care, but thanks for clarifying that for me and yeah, Sadie will drive me,” I told him, pulling my hair back in a bun.
Grabbing his briefcase and swinging his coat over his arm, he stopped to look at me, and for a second there, I thought he was going to say something nice. I should have known better. I thought I was smarter than that.
* * *
Feeling good about my insult, I giggled. Hearing something fall to the ground in the file room, I saw that a file cabinet had fallen through the wall and resulted in a huge hole giving me a straight view into Grandma Misty’s office.
“Are you happy now?” she asked, flaring her nose.
“No, I’m so sorry, I really am, but I need Sadie to drive me to question one of my suspects. Love you. Bye,” I said, grabbing Sadie by the arm and pulling her to the door.
“Does the suspect have a name?” she asked, unlocking the car and climbing inside.
“Sutton Talbot,” I said, getting in the car and fastening my seatbelt.
“I’m sorry. Did you say Sutton Talbot as in Allison’s sister?” she asked, already driving to where I was going without having to ask her to take me. She was perfect like that.
“Yep, that's the one. I'm so envious of you,” I told her, causing her to look at me out of the corner of the eye making sure she never took her eyes fully off of the road.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because you’re perfect, Sadie. You don’t hurt people when you're happy, you make people happy,” I told her, leaning my seat back to rest my eyes. Looking over all those legal documents had really done a number on them.
“Being perfect isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, Mal. I mean look at this,” she said, enchanting the car to steer itself and running her hands roughly through her hair. If I would have done that, my hair would have looked like a bird’s nest, but hers looked like a luxury shampoo ad.
“That looks fabulous actually. I have no idea why you’re complaining,” I said, looking out the window as we passed by my old high school.
“It’s the constant pressure of everyone expecting you to be perfect that gets to me. I want to have off days like everyone else. I would kill to be able to be reckless and make a mistake,” she said, gripping the steering wheel so tight, I thought she was going to pull it off.
“Calm down, Sis. You may need to let the air run and lie down for a bit. You're talking crazy, and it's scaring me,” I said, patting her back as she parked in front of the gym, Work It! It was a regular spot of Suttons when she lived in Cat's Cradle.
“Yeah, that’s what I’m going to do,” she turned the air up as high as it would possibly go.
It was like a Stepford Wife whose batteries were dying. So, in other words, it wasn't pretty.
Getting out of the car, I walked to the door of the gym and saw myself in the reflection of the door. I hadn't fixed my hair since Daniel messed it up. Sadie was too busy having a nervous breakdown to tell me. Maybe perfection wasn't as easy as I thought.
Quickly running my fingers through my knotted mop of hair. Using the door as my mirror, I saw that it still looked pretty bad, but hey, it was neat, and it would have to do. My hair wasn't that important at the moment.
Pulling the door open, I marched through the gym looking for Sutton. I knew she was in there somewhere. It was the only place in town that she knew her mom wouldn’t be. I couldn’t blame her for not wanting to be around that horrible woman.
Looking past the meatheads lifting weights while they looked at themselves in the mirror, I saw Sutton on one of the many treadmills along the back wall of the gym. She had her headphone in her ears, and her hair was bopping to the beat of whatever song she was listening to.
Walking in her direction, I tried waving at her, but she didn’t notice. Getting closer to her, I tried waving at her again, but she still didn’t notice. The girl was in the zone.
Seeing the red stop button, I pressed it. I felt like I was pulling the fire alarm at school and I was about to get in major trouble. Noticing that she was slowing down, she pulled her headphones off and looked up at me. “What's your problem?” she asked, wiping her forehead with a small towel she had hanging from the treadmill.
“I tried to get your attention, but failed, so I had to resort to this,” I told her, pointing to the stop button.
Taking a huge swig of water from her water bottle, she hopped down from the treadmill. “You have my attention. Now what do you want?” she asked, her usual over the top sweetness completely gone.
I guess our last run in left her with a sour taste in her mouth.
“I want to ask you a few questions.”
“About?” she asked, running in place.
“Your sister’s murder,” I said, watching her closely to see if she showed
any signs of guilt.
Nothing. It was like her face was made of plastic, just like her mother's. They would have made a killing as poker players.
“I know nothing about it. I don’t live here anymore, remember?”
“I know that. I just have some questions. It’s just procedure,” I assured her, trying to get her to talk. I knew lying to her was wrong, but that’s what lawyers do.
“Okay, fine. You want to go outside and chat?” she asked, before taking another huge gulp of water.
She smiled at me and then headed for the door.
“Sounds perfect,” I replied, following her.
I went over in my head what questions I was going to ask her. I knew I couldn’t hit her with questions about magic without her thinking I was totally bonkers, but I could ask her everything but.
Finding a small and very uncomfortable bench, we sat down. Pulling a random file out of my briefcase/purse, I pretended to be looking over the questions I was supposed to ask her when in reality I was looking at a file that was created when Mrs. Abernathy thought Ms. Etta stole her hummingbird cake recipe to put in her bakery. Yeah, that’s right she wanted to sue her over a hummingbird cake.
The case was closed, and everything was squashed when Ms. Etta agreed to give Mrs. Abernathy free desserts for life. Anyone with a brain would have agreed to that because Ms. Etta made the best sweets this side of the Mississippi. Everyone knew that.
“First question, when is the last time you recall speaking with you sister?” I asked, fanning myself.
“A year and a half ago,” she said, rolling her eyes.
Judging from that it didn’t go too well. “What did you talk about?”
She looked at me like I was a busybody, which I was, but so what. This was my job, the fact that it also allowed me to scratch a gossip itch was just icing on the proverbial cake. “We talked about her like always. Her fiancé, her job, her hair, her skin, and her perfect American dream life. You knew Allison, talking to her was almost unbearable,” she said, rubbing her arms.
She was wrong. Talking to Allison wasn’t almost unbearable, it was totally unbearable.
“So, I take it you two had one of those famous Talbot spats?” I asked, remembering all of the fights they had in school. Heck, they even fought in the church.
“Yep,” she said, nodding her head.
Writing down her answer to that, I moved on to the next question. “Were you jealous of your sister, Sutton?”
She folded her arms and started shaking her leg. Her eyes filled with something dark I couldn't quite identify. “What do you think? No, I was not jealous of my sister,” she said, attempting to cover the nervousness in her voice.
“From the outside looking in it sure looked that way. You were always pining after Mason and trying to dress just like your sister. If she got a haircut, you got the same exact one. I remember all of those things, Sutton,” I said, calling her out.
“Maybe I was, but just because I was jealous of her doesn’t mean I murdered her. Sure, I wanted to dress like her and do everything she did because I thought if I was just like her than my mom would love me the way she loved Allison. And she didn’t deserve Mason because she didn’t want him. She wanted to be with a boy from Cold Creek,” she said, breaking down.
I knew about Aaron, but Sutton didn’t know that. I wanted to see if she could give me any more information on him.
“What boy?” I asked, playing dumb.
“His name is Aaron Golden. She met him on a trip to Cold Creek with mom. She went completely gaga over him, but she had to keep it a secret from mom. I thought about telling mom just so she would be disappointed in Allison instead of me for once, but I couldn’t go through with it.”
Julie Talbot hated Cold Creek. She always called it the boondocks. My mind drifted back to the graveyard and Mrs. Talbot's heated discussion with Aaron. It didn't seem like she didn't know about him. To me, it looked like they had spoken before.
All signs were pointing to Aaron Golden.
21
“Thank you for asking me to join you,” Abigail said, checking her makeup in the sun visor window.
I didn’t ask her to accompany me to Cold Creek, she volunteered and I knew it wasn’t to help me. She wanted an excuse to be around Cade Blackwater. They had been texting nonstop since our first visit to Cold Creek. I had never seen her happier and happy Abigail was good. I liked happy Abigail.
“Um, you’re welcome?” I said, sounding like I was asking a question.
While she flirted with her new boyfriend, I was going to be questioning my top suspect and hopefully ending the whole mystery of who framed Mason. Aaron Golden was Allison's murderer; he just had to be. Everything I had learned about him added up to that he had done it. He was the one who committed that crime, and it was only fair that he did the time.
Pulling in the Blackwater's driveway, I saw Cade standing on the porch with a bouquet of enchanted roses. How could I tell they were enchanted? Because they were sparkling like Edward Cullen in the sun. Regular Roses didn't do that … I knew because I had seen them before.
“Isn’t he just the cutest?” she asked, clapping her hands together.
“Yep, sure is,” I said, putting the car in park and getting out. Stretching, I watched as Abigail ran to Cade and wrapped her arms around his neck. Their new relationship was moving fast, but I guess when you know you know. That is what they say right?
“I’ll be back to get her in a few hours,” I said, looking down at my watch.
“Stay gone as long as you want. I have our first date perfectly planned out,” Cade said, kissing Abby’s cheek and waving at me.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” I answered, though I wasn’t expecting a response.
They ignored me because they were too busy staring longingly into each other’s eyes. Sighing, I got back in the car and drove to the food truck deli thingy because it was lunch time and Cole had told me before that was Aaron’s usual spot.
Taking the right turn that would lead me to downtown, I saw the vehicle that served food. That concept was still so strange to me, but I guess it was a murderer thing.
Scanning the crowd, I saw Aaron sitting at the same table he was the first time I met him, and as I got closer, I saw that he was eating the same thing.
“Hi, Aaron,” I said, sitting down.
He looked up, and I saw a huge scratch down the right side of his face.
“Oh, no. What happened to your face? And don’t say that you walked into a door,” I asked, trying to lighten the mood with a joke.
It didn’t work.
“It’s none of your business what happened to face. Why are you here?”
“I’m here because I'm pretty sure you murdered Allison Talbot and set Mason Blanchard up to take the fall. Oh, and I know about all the extra help you had,” I told him, tapping my fingers on the table.
He just stared at me. His expression making goosebumps appear all over my arm. “I didn’t do it,” he said, gritting his teeth.
“That’s not how it looks from where I’m sitting,” I told him, trying to seem like I wasn’t afraid of him, but I was. I mean could you blame me? He dabbled in black magic and had probably pushed a girl to her death. A girl he loved.
“Then maybe you need to look somewhere else, Witch,” he said, slamming his hand down on the table.
I was like oh, no he didn’t, but oh, yes he did.
He knew I was a witch and I had not the slightest idea how. “I have no clue what you’re talking about, Aaron,” I said, trying to keep my cool and not let him see me sweat.
“Don’t play dumb with me. You’re Malady Norwood as in the infamous Norwood coven. I know what you are,” he said, pointing at me.
Talking about pulling no punches. After that, I knew I could ask him the questions I really wanted to ask. “Well, now we have that out of the way. I need to ask you a couple of questions.”
“Why would I answer anything you ask me?” he ask
ed.
“It's the only way to clear yourself. If you didn't do it, then you have nothing to hide, Aaron.”
I was going to have to trick him into talking and hope that when he found out what I was doing, he didn't kill me. I wasn't ready to go quite yet….
He knew I was right. “Make it quick. I have to get to work,” he said, taking a bit of his sandwich.
“How do you know Julie Talbot?” I asked.
“She's my ex-girlfriend's mother. Next,” he said, trying to change the subject quickly.
He wasn't going to get away with that sort of answer. “I'm going to ask you again, and this time I want a real answer. How do you know Julie Talbot?”
“Like I told you she's my ex-girlfriend's mother,” he said, repeating the same answer.
Okay, maybe I was wrong. He got away with that answer. “Fine, next question, did you murder Allison and put a spell on Mason?”
“No,” was all he said. Still, I saw a twitch in his brow.
He had to know something; he just had to. It was as if he had huge neon lights that pointed to his head saying "I'm guilty!" and "Arrest me!"
Every lead led right back to him. His name was always brought up, even if all the evidence I had on him was circumstantial. “Do you know who did?” I asked, hoping he was going to give me a little crumb of information. I wanted him to throw out the bait so that I could bite.
“Look, all I can tell you is you’re looking in the wrong town. Try looking closer to home,” he said, gathering his trash and disposing of it.
“What does that mean?” I asked, racking my brain trying to figure it out.
He stopped and turned to face me. “Aren’t lawyers supposed to be smart?”
“I am smart, but you keep talking like Yoda, and it’s hard to make sense of it,” I told him, getting up.
He started to walk away, but before he left, there was one more thing I needed to ask him. Running after him, I caught up with him and tapped him on the shoulder.
“What do you want now?” he boomed, causing me to jump.
Cursed at First Sight: A Witchy Cozy Mystery (Cursed Coven Cozies Book 1) Page 12
