But even so, Clarissa couldn’t pass up the opportunity to find out what Sam was up to.
She stuck her phone into her pocket. Then, once Sam had passed by, she followed him.
She wished he wasn’t running so fast. Clarissa was not a runner, so it was hard to keep up. Thankfully just as she was getting a stitch in her side, Sam paused to stretch. He must have had a leg cramp or something. Clarissa took the opportunity to double over and catch her breath.
Unfortunately when she looked up again, he was gone.
How could Sam move that fast? Was he superhuman?
Annoyed, Clarissa forced her tired body to keep moving. She raced toward the end of the street as fast as her overworked legs would carry her, hoping she could catch up with him. But that didn’t happen.
She stood there looking around in confusion as the moon shone down on her.
It was eerily quiet.
Then, suddenly, there was a noise.
Clarissa reacted as any reasonable person might: she screamed.
Then she pulled out her phone, wondering why she had ever made that obnoxious pop song her ringtone in the first place. What had she been thinking? Yuck.
“Hello?” she said, reluctantly giving up on her quest to find Sam.
“You need to harness the power of the moon to fly,” Matilda said, getting right to the point.
“I didn’t mean for you to call me in the middle of the night!” Clarissa gasped apologetically. “I kind of just needed to rant. I figured you would get the message when you got up in the morning. Did I wake you? I’m so sorry!”
“There’s nothing to apologize for. I was already awake. I was talking to Victor.”
“Victor? Is he your boyfriend?” Clarissa hadn’t known her aunt was seeing anyone.
“No, he’s a spirit,” Matilda replied nonchalantly. “He lives in a vase I bought at a flea market.”
“Um, okay…” How was one supposed to reply to a statement like that?
“Anyway, I just called to say you need to harness the power of the moon to fly. The stronger the moon’s pull is, the easier it will be for you to get the broomstick up in the air. Next time, try moonbathing.”
“Moonbathing?” Clarissa repeated. Was that even a word?
“It’s like sunbathing but…well, it’s pretty self-explanatory.”
“I see. So you’re telling me I need to hang out in the moonlight and…soak it all up?”
“Yes, but not tonight,” Matilda advised.
“Why not tonight?” Clarissa asked, becoming more confused by the minute.
“There are too many shooting stars tonight.”
“What does that have to do with – oh, on second thought, never mind.”
Sometimes there was no point in asking Matilda to explain things. The eccentric woman tended to talk in circles, plus half the stuff she said sounded completely insane. Clarissa figured maybe it was best not to ask too many questions of her peculiar aunt.
“Have a good night,” Matilda said before hanging up. “Oh, and Victor says hi.”
A chill went up Clarissa’s spine at that. Was her aunt actually talking to ghosts? And now one of them was saying hello to her via Matilda? That was beyond creepy!
Clarissa looked around nervously. She couldn’t help but wonder if ghosts actually existed – and if they did, were there any on Main Street? She couldn’t shake the feeling she was being watched, but that was likely because she’d managed to freak herself out.
“This is dumb,” she whispered to herself. “I’m going home.”
With that, she hurried back toward the safety of her car. She hoped Cat would be nearby – and cooperative – because she really didn’t feel like chasing that stubborn little beast through the dark, deserted streets.
She rushed past the bakery, the bookstore and the coffee shop. But when she got to the library, an arm suddenly shot out of the shadows and grabbed her. Clarissa screamed bloody murder – until she realized there was probably no one else around to hear her.
“Are you following me?” Sam demanded, looking irritated.
“Let go of me!” she shrieked, struggling against him.
“Sorry,” he said, immediately releasing her. “Are you following me?” he asked again.
“No,” she retorted, crossing her arms and trying to look tough.
“You are,” he said with certainty.
“So what if I am?”
Clarissa took a step backward and glanced down the street. Her car was within sight. She liked to think she could make a run for it, but deep down she knew better. She had seen how quickly Sam moved. There was no way she could outrun him.
“What’s this all about?” he demanded.
She said nothing. She was silently wondering if she could grab the lid off the trashcan behind him and thwack him over the head with it. Unfortunately, that probably worked better in the movies than in real life.
“You’re still hung up on your crazy notion that I killed Greg, aren’t you?”
Clarissa said nothing. She didn’t want to agitate him further.
“Look, Amy told me she was over visiting you. I know you were asking questions about me.”
Clarissa swallowed hard. Truthfully, she was almost certain Sam had murdered Greg. And the last place she wanted to be was in a shadowy, empty street being confronted by an angry killer. She hadn’t gone out looking for danger, but it seemed danger may have found her.
Sam sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Look, I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’ve been under a lot of pressure lately what with the move and the new job.”
“Okay.” Clarissa’s heart was pounding.
“I know my being stressed is no excuse. You and I have really gotten off on the wrong foot, haven’t we? I know you’re a friend of Amy’s. And I want to make things right. Listen, can we just clear the air about your completely misguided theory once and for all?”
“How do you suggest we do that?”
“Ask me anything,” Sam offered. “No question is off limits. Go for it. Do your worst.”
“How did your lasso wind up tied around Greg’s wrists?” Clarissa asked.
He chuckled at that. “You would have to ask me that, wouldn’t you? The thing is, I have no idea. It was a dumb prop that came with my Halloween costume. I set the lasso down at some point and completely forgot about it. Somebody must have picked it up.”
Clarissa tipped her head to the side and looked at Sam intently.
“I know, I know. I’m a cop, so believe me when I say I know how that sounds,” Sam sighed. “Come to think of it, I suppose I’d be suspicious of me too if I were you. But I didn’t have anything to do with what happened that night. If I was lying, I’d have a much better alibi!”
“Why did you leave the party?” Clarissa already knew what Amy had told her, but she wanted to hear it from Sam. She wanted to see if there were any inconsistencies.
“It sounds dumb, but I was concerned about first impressions. When that fight broke out it seemed like an ordinary drunken scuffle – no big deal. But if the cops ended up being called for a noise complaint, I didn’t want to be there. It wouldn’t have looked good.”
“Where did you go after the party?”
“I went home.”
Clarissa sighed. That wasn’t the rock solid alibi she had hoped for.
But it did seem like a normal thing to do, assuming Sam was being truthful.
Sam looked upset now. “I shouldn’t have gone home. In retrospect, it was a bad decision. I should have stayed. I should have broken up the fight, even if it did make me seem like just another meddling cop. If it wasn’t for me, maybe…”
Sam’s gaze was unflinching and his body language was unguarded. Clarissa really wanted him to have shifty eyes or inconsistencies in his story. But he seemed nothing but sincere. Either he was the world’s greatest liar or she was pursuing the wrong guy.
“You can’t blame yourself,” she told him softly.
“I know,” Sam agreed. “But I do anyway. I’m a cop. And up until that night, I thought I was a good cop. But my complete lack of judgment at the party…ugh, I’ll never forgive myself.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure you’re the best cop in town.”
The corners of Sam’s mouth twitched slightly at that. “What’s your problem with the local police?” he asked with a touch of amusement. “You have me completely terrified to start my new job, you know.”
“Ha! Just be glad I’ve warned you. Everyone else on the force is probably going to stand around eating donuts and waiting for you to do all the heavy lifting. I think there’s a real problem with indifference on the force. They’re all just in it for the paycheck and benefits.”
“I hope you’re exaggerating.”
“I wish I was.”
“Is that why you’re being so nosy?” Sam asked. “I figured you were just a snoop.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“You know what I mean. Anyway, is there anything else you want to ask me?”
“I heard you and Amy got engaged,” she blurted out.
It was an abrupt change of subject, sure. But she figured his reaction would be telling. If he had proposed to Amy to woo her and keep her from ratting him out, he likely wouldn’t show much interest in discussing his upcoming nuptials. So Clarissa posed the question and then she waited with bated breath.
“Yeah, I did,” Sam confirmed, instantly softening.
“Congratulations!”
“Thanks!” he smiled.
“You must be excited.”
“She’s the best thing that ever happened to me. I couldn’t let her get away. When you know you just know. It sounds cliché but it really is the truth.” He cleared his throat then, seemingly embarrassed to have been caught gushing. “I should go.”
“So should I,” Clarissa replied. “I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot,” she added.
“Me too,” he said. With that, he turned and walked away.
Clarissa returned to her car on shaking legs, completely lost in thought.
Sam Swanson was definitely rough around the edges. He was a ruggedly handsome, no nonsense cop with something to prove. But as far as Clarissa could tell, he had answered her questions honestly and his answers had been consistent with what Amy had said.
Furthermore, it was obvious he was completely in love with Amy. The engagement was real.
Besides, Sam hadn’t murdered Clarissa right there in the street. Surely if he was actually a killer and felt the walls were closing in on him, he would have taken the opportunity to stop her from snooping around anymore.
“Meow,” said the cat from its perch atop the car.
Clarissa opened up the driver’s side door and Cat hopped inside.
“I don’t know what to think anymore,” she confided. “I’m afraid I might not be able to solve this one.” There was something comforting about admitting her worst fear out loud, even if it was only to the cat. It was strange how the annoying stray had slowly but surely head-butted its way into her life. Now it was her confidante.
“Meow,” Cat stated in response to Clarissa’s admission. If Clarissa didn’t know better, she would have said there were undertones of sympathy in that one-syllable utterance. Sometimes she could swear that cat was a lot smarter than it let on!
“If it’s not Sam who’s the killer, then what am I missing?”
The cat was looking at Clarissa very intently, as if hanging on her every word.
“Maybe Russ lied about skipping the party,” she told the cat, grasping at straws.
The cat did not look impressed.
“Could it be the three dimwits I went to high school with? Petty jealousy over someone else’s success seems like such a stupid motive for murder. But those guys are incredibly stupid. They don’t think like logical human beings, so…maybe? I don’t know.”
“Meow,” Cat said again.
It was amazing how the same word, if one could call it a word, could mean so many different things. This time the response was made in the demanding “feed me” tone that Clarissa knew all too well. It was clear that the conversation was over – the only thing the cat wanted now was to be waited on hand and foot.
Clarissa peered out into the darkness and shivered. Impulsively, she locked the car doors as the cat walked around in circles before finally settling down on the front passenger seat. Then the bright-eyed critter stared up at her expectantly.
“You’re right,” Clarissa agreed as she stuck the key in the ignition. “We should go home.”
Chapter 14
“You’re here,” Clarissa announced when Parker showed up the next day. She had seen his car pulling up outside, so she had flung open the door before he’d even had a chance to knock.
“I am.”
“Come in,” she ordered, practically grabbing him by the shirt collar and dragging him inside.
“Whoa,” she heard Parker murmur under his breath once he got a look at her living room. “I uh…love what you’ve done with the place. What is all this?” he asked with a bewildered expression on his face. “Have you suffered a mental break?”
“Ha, very funny,” Clarissa said dryly.
Then she took a look around. She had been so engrossed in what she had been doing that she hadn’t even noticed the way it had taken over her living room. Papers full of scribbles adorned every surface. Discarded, wadded up notes littered the floor. Charts were taped to every wall.
She had to admit, it kind of did look like she had suffered a mental break.
“What have you been doing?” Parker tried again.
“I’ve gone back over everything,” Clarissa explained. “Things weren’t adding up, so I went right back to step one and started over. Oh and by the way, Sam Swanson didn’t kill Greg. So we can cross him off the list of suspects.”
“How do you know that?”
She averted her eyes. “I, er, ran into him last night.”
“Clarissa.” Parker’s voice was full of disapproval – and worry. “I thought we agreed we were going to deal with him tonight, together. You promised you wouldn’t go after him alone.”
“I know. I didn’t mean to…he was out while I was running an errand and one thing led to another. The next thing I knew, we were having a conversation about the Halloween party.”
Parker sighed and shook his head in defeat. “I’m glad you’re okay. What did Sam say?”
“He said he left the party as soon as the fight broke out. Same thing Amy told me.”
“Yeah okay, but does he have an alibi?”
Clarissa hesitated. “He went home.”
“He lives alone, right?”
“Uh huh,” she confirmed.
Parker gave her an incredulous look. “Sam’s lasso was found at the murder scene, he has no solid alibi and all we have to go on is what he and his fiancée are telling us. What makes you so sure he isn’t lying?”
“He looked me in the eye. He didn’t pause to think before he answered my questions. Everything about him – his demeanor, his body language, his tone – tells me he’s being honest.”
“Clarissa, Sam is a cop. He’s been trained to have a good poker face,” Parker pointed out.
“You don’t have to believe me, but I know what I saw and heard. My gut says Sam isn’t a killer. We were wrong about him, Parker. We’ve been wasting our time investigating him while the real murderer is still on the loose.”
“I don’t suppose you know who the real murderer is?”
“Well…no. But we do know the killer was at the party that night. Sam said he set his lasso down somewhere in the house. So the killer must have picked it up at some point. That means the killer was inside the house!”
“Greg could have picked the lasso up himself.”
Clarissa made a face. “I hadn’t thought of that,” she admitted.
“What abo
ut those morons you know from high school?”
Clarissa picked through various pieces of paper until she found the one she was looking for. Then she presented Parker with a sheet of hastily written notes.
“Here,” she said. “This might be our answer as far as they’re concerned.”
Parker looked down at the words on the page and squinted. “I can hardly even tell what you’ve written here,” he complained. “You have really messy writing. I mean, it’s truly horrible,” he laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Sorry I don’t use teeny tiny perfectly formed block letters like you do,” she retorted cheekily. “Real grownups use cursive! But okay fine, I won’t make you read what I wrote. I’ll summarize it for you.”
“Thank you.”
“I made a list of every fight I could remember Zack, Mikey or Russ getting in back in high school. They always picked on scrawny little weaklings. They only ever instigated fights they knew they could win.”
“Well yeah, that’s what bullies do. Why is that important?” Parker looked puzzled.
“Do you really think they would have gone after Greg when they saw what great shape he was in?” Clarissa asked. “Isn’t it more likely they took one look at him and cowered in the corner hoping he wouldn’t seek revenge for the way they treated him?”
“Maybe…but how do we know Greg didn’t initiate the fight?”
“I suppose we don’t,” Clarissa conceded. “The Greg I knew back in high school never would have initiated a fight. He wasn’t the fighting type. But from everything I’ve heard, he changed a lot. And his older brother said he got a lot more aggressive after he started taking steroids.”
“So maybe he started the fight. He put Russ in his place and humiliated him. Then later on when there were no witnesses around, those three buffoons ganged up on him. Greg was stronger, sure. But he also would have been outnumbered.”
“I don’t know,” Clarissa replied doubtfully. “Those three were always the kind who picked fights for attention. They liked to flaunt their so-called victories. They liked to make everyone think they were big and tough and undefeatable.”
“Maybe this time they got caught up in the moment and went too far,” Parker suggested.
A Hint of Magic Page 12
