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Mysteries of Treasure Cove Cozy Mystery Boxed Set

Page 9

by Meredith Potts


  “We’ll go back to focusing on you then,” David said.

  “Here’s a better idea. Why don’t you leave us both alone?” Scott asked.

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that,” David said.

  Scott groaned. “Why not?”

  “Because there are still some important questions left to ask you. For example, why didn’t you two spend the night together on the evening that Ryan was murdered?” David asked.

  “Yeah. I mean, based on both of your alibis, it wasn’t like either of you had big plans that night. So, it seems curious that you didn’t have a date night or something,” I said.

  “We just didn’t, all right?” Scott replied.

  I stared deep into his eyes. “Is that really your answer?”

  Scott threw out his arms. “What do you want me to say?”

  “How about something a little less vague?” I asked.

  “Neither of us were really in the mood to go out,” Scott said.

  I turned my focus to Megan once again. “Is that true?”

  “Yes,” Megan said.

  I waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t say another word.

  I bit the corner of my lip and kept staring at her.

  While Megan looked increasingly uncomfortable, Scott found it impossible to keep his mouth shut.

  “Why do you care so much about Megan and I not going out on a date the other night?” Scott asked.

  “Because if you didn’t go out that night then how can you be so sure that your significant other isn’t lying about their alibi? I mean, one of you might be dating a killer,” I said.

  “That’s baseless speculation,” Scott said.

  “Is it?” I asked. “Ryan’s murderer is still at-large. And there are only a handful of people who are suspected of the crime.”

  “I think I would know if I was dating a killer,” Scott said.

  “That depends. How long have you been dating?” David said.

  “That’s a very good question,” I added. “When did you two get together exactly?”

  “I have been with Megan long enough to definitively say that she isn’t capable of murder,” Scott replied.

  Once more, I stared at Megan. “How about you? Are you willing to vouch for Scott’s character?”

  “Of course,” Megan said.

  I paid close attention to her body language as she uttered those words. There was something off about the way she delivered her response.

  Unfortunately, I couldn’t focus on her reaction for very long.

  Scott was quick to try and put an end to the conversation. “See. There you go. That’s all settled—”

  “Not so fast,” David said. “Neither of you answered my question. When exactly did your relationship begin?”

  “A few months ago,” Scott said.

  “Shortly after Ryan filed for divorce, you mean?” David said. “You two didn’t waste any time, did you?”

  “How is that relevant?” Scott asked.

  “I determine what’s relevant,” David said.

  “Look. I answered your question. Can we move on now?”

  “Fair enough,” David said. “How about Ryan? Did he know about your relationship?”

  “No,” Scott said.

  “I’d like to hear Megan answer that as well,” I said.

  Scott stepped in again. “This is ridiculous. Her answer is going to be the same as mine. Now, we’ve been very patient with you. So, can we head inside now?”

  David stared at Scott. After a few seconds of quiet contemplation, David nodded.

  “You are free to go,” David said.

  “Good,” Scott said.

  Both Scott and Megan started walking toward the front door of the Victorian-style house.

  David held his hand out. “I think you misunderstood me. Scott is free to go.”

  Scott’s forehead wrinkled. “What about Megan?”

  “I’m going to need her to stick around a few extra minutes,” David said.

  Megan squinted. “Why?”

  “That was my thought exactly. This doesn’t make any sense,” Scott said.

  “Scott, you wanted to go inside. Here’s your chance,” David said.

  Scott folded his arms. “No. You’re up to something.”

  “That is none of your concern—”

  “You’re going to talk about me, aren’t you?” Scott asked.

  “You’re awfully paranoid,” David said.

  “Tell me I’m wrong,” Scott said.

  “I don’t have to tell you anything,” David said.

  “Then I’m not going anywhere,” Scott said.

  “There’s a stunning reversal for you,” David said. “A few minutes ago, you were practically begging me to let you go.”

  “You weren’t trying to get Megan to turn against me then,” Scott said.

  David’s eyes widened. “You have a very active imagination.”

  “You still haven’t denied my claims,” Scott said. “Because you know I’m right. So, whatever you have to say to her, you’re going to have to say in front of me.”

  David chuckled. “I don’t know where you got the idea that you can dictate terms. Sabrina and I are going to speak with Megan privately, even if it means hauling her back to police headquarters.”

  Megan held her pointer finger up. “That isn’t necessary.”

  “You bet it isn’t. We’re going to settle this right here and now,” Scott said.

  Megan turned to her boyfriend. “Scott, do what the detective wants.”

  Scott’s eyes bulged. “What?”

  “Everything is going to be fine. Just go inside and I’ll join you as soon as I can,” Megan said.

  “You should listen to your girlfriend. She’s a smart woman,” David said.

  Scott shot David a glare. “Stay out of this.”

  Megan gazed deep into Scott’s eyes. “Let me get this over with.”

  “But—”

  Megan interrupted Scott. “Please. Just go.”

  Scott stared at his girlfriend and then honored her request.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Once Scott was inside, David set his sights on Megan.

  “Your boyfriend is terribly paranoid,” David said.

  “From what I can tell, he has a good reason to be,” Megan said.

  “I think his paranoia is rubbing off on you,” David said.

  “Instead of throwing around random speculation, why don’t you just tell me what this is about?” Megan asked.

  He stared her down. “You seem like you’re in a big hurry to get out of here.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Are you going to tell me why you insisted on speaking with me privately?”

  David pointed at her. “I’d watch that tone if I were you.”

  She lowered her voice volume as she responded. “All right. But I’m sure you can understand why I’m annoyed. Not to mention, why I want this conversation to be over.”

  “Look. I don’t want to keep you here any longer than I have to. At the same time, there are some things that I need to ask you.”

  “Like what?” Megan said.

  “Now that Scott is inside—and out of earshot, are you still willing to vouch for him?” David asked.

  A look of disgust came to Megan’s face. “Scott was right. You are trying to get me to turn on him.”

  “We’re just trying to get to the truth.”

  Megan snarled. “You have a lot of nerve.”

  “It’s more that I have a hunch. When you vouched for him earlier, I got the sense that you were only doing it because he was standing right next to you. But now that he’s back inside, you can be honest with me.”

  “I have been honest with you,” Megan said.

  David stared at her long and hard. “I’m just going to remind you one more time that it is a crime to lie to a police detective.”

  Megan got really quiet.

  David continued. “So, are you going to sti
ck with your story?”

  She nodded.

  “Are you sure about that?” David asked.

  “Yes,” Megan said. “Now, am I free to go?”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Megan may have been eager to head inside, but we peppered her with a few additional questions. She held firm, however. When it became clear that her answers weren’t going to change, David and I let her go.

  The question then became, where should we go next? Ultimately, David and I decided to grab a bite to eat at Zelda’s Diner. As we entered the place, David immediately headed for the restroom. While he scurried off, I scanned the diner for an open booth. That was when I spotted Melissa Maxwell and Daphne Alford sitting together.

  How odd, I thought.

  After all, it wasn’t every night that I spotted two of Jake Williamson’s ex-girlfriends eating in a restaurant that Jake owned. Then again, Jake had a stake in so many places in town that I almost had to go out of my way if I wanted to eat at a place that was owned by someone else. In addition, it had been over a decade and a half since Jake had dated either Daphne or Melissa.

  A lot had changed since then—in each of their lives. Jake was now married to Clarissa Hunt. Meanwhile, Melissa was also off the market. She had tied the knot with Nick Maxwell a number of years ago in a charming ceremony by the beach. Not to be outdone, Daphne was far from single as well. She and her husband, William, had been hitched for over five years.

  In truth, Daphne and Melissa were both so happy in their respective marriages that Jake’s name never even came up in conversation anymore. I was the one who found myself wrapped up in thoughts about the past. Sometimes, it was just unavoidable. In a town this small that had such a long history, it was amazing the different ways our lives had intersected over the years.

  Instead of remaining in a daze, I pulled my head out of the clouds and walked over to Melissa’s and Daphne’s booth. They immediately extended their sympathy over Ryan’s death and asked me about the investigation.

  Even though I understood their curiosity, I was determined to steer the conversation away from the case. My mind needed a break from this investigation.

  Ideally, we would have talked about something light. Or even humorous.

  Instead, when I asked Melissa how she was doing, the tall, thin, angular-faced, forty-five-year-old ran her fingers through her long blond hair and vented her frustration.

  “I just can’t help but wonder, why can’t my brother get his act together?” Melissa asked.

  I grimaced. “I wish I had an answer for you.”

  “I mean, his life is a complete mess. He’s cheating on his wife. He’s having all kinds of work problems. And he just drinks way too much. I keep telling him that he can’t go on this way. I’ve warned him that if he continues on this path, things are going to blow up in his face. But he won’t listen to me,” Melissa said.

  Daphne was eager to share her opinion. The tall, trim, square-faced, sixty-three-year-old brunette opened her mouth and said, “I know it’s frustrating—”

  “It’s more than that. It’s maddening,” Melissa said.

  “I understand. At the same time, there’s only so much you can do. Your brother is a grown man, after all,” Daphne said.

  “I wish he would start acting like it. I mean, he’s in his forties. If he doesn’t pull himself together now, it might not ever happen,” Melissa said.

  “I hate to say it, but sometimes people need to make their own mistakes,” Daphne replied.

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Melissa said.

  “Just keep trying to get through to him,” Daphne said.

  Melissa turned to me. “Sabrina, what do you think?”

  “I know you’re doing your best,” I said.

  Melissa groaned. “Yeah. But what good is doing my best if it doesn’t get results?”

  “You just have to keep hoping and praying,” Daphne said. “That’s what I’ve been doing.”

  My nose scrunched as I looked at Daphne. “Wait. What’s going on with you?”

  “It turns out Melissa isn’t the only one dealing with family drama right now,” Daphne said.

  Melissa’s eyebrows rose. “Oh no. What’s happening with your family?”

  “My brother-in-law has started behaving really erratically,” Daphne said.

  “How so?” I asked.

  “He’s been having these mood swings and getting really argumentative. Stuff like that,” Daphne said.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I said.

  Daphne bit the corner of her lip. “It certainly hasn’t been ideal. Especially for my husband. Until recently, he has always been really close with his brother. But they have really started drifting apart.”

  “That’s terrible,” Melissa said. “Why didn’t you tell me about this earlier?”

  “You were busy talking about the problems that you’re having with your brother,” Daphne said.

  “Right. What a crazy coincidence that we’d both be having family problems at the same time?” Melissa asked.

  “I wish those were the only crazy things going on right now,” I said.

  “Good point,” Melissa said. “Instead, we’re all having a week that we’ll never forget.”

  I took a deep breath before responding, “Here’s hoping that things turn around soon—for all of us.”

  Daphne nodded. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  So much for light conversation. Unfortunately, things didn’t get any better from there.

  Not at the diner.

  Or at the police station the following day.

  Instead, in the morning, as I sat across from David inside police headquarters and thought about the case, I just found my frustration building. The longer we went without digging up a new lead, the harder it was to escape the feeling that I was just slamming my head into a figurative brick wall.

  That was one aspect of detective work that I rarely saw depicted on television. It was also scarcely written about in crime fiction novels. The sheer volume of hours spent getting nowhere. The waiting for answers. And the terrible feeling of staring down dead ends.

  When I did see a TV show chronicle this detail of case work, it was usually a brief montage of the detective pacing or looking off into the distance. Maybe their brow would be furrowed. Then there would be a light bulb moment.

  In reality, things didn’t happen that way.

  The investigative day was long, but the results often came up woefully short. I spent a great deal of the morning staring off into the distance. That was paired with some fruitless attempts to brainstorm ideas. For good measure, David and I also took turns pouring over the case file. Although, by that point, we practically had the thing memorized.

  There was some computer activity as well. I searched social media to see if any of the suspects had posted recently. Ultimately, they were all too smart to post anything incriminating. That said, I tried to read between the lines. I looked at how often each of the suspects normally posted during a week when a murder hadn’t occurred. I then compared that data to their recent posting history. If there was a stark difference between the two, it would stand out.

  After logging over an hour on the computer, I was only able to make one deduction—that they all seemed to be going about life like things were business as usual. That did not make me feel good. The last thing David and I needed was for the killer to be keeping their cool. We wanted the killer to be scared out of their mind.

  After getting off the computer, I went back to brainstorming. Or at least I tried to generate a great idea. I kept going over things in my head, as if that would jog something in my memory. But nothing stood out.

  That was especially irritating, considering how every second was precious during a murder investigation. So, to be spending these hours getting nowhere was just maddening. But that wasn’t all. There was a certain pressure in watching time tick by. Especially because of what I knew. You see, sta
tistically speaking, the longer a case went on, the less chance there was of solving it.

  In addition, I couldn’t escape the feeling that I should be doing more. After all, the answer was out there, just waiting to be found. But how? And what wasn’t I seeing?

  ***

  As I looked over at David, I knew he felt the same way that I did. There was a strained expression on his face as he leaned back in his desk chair.

  “What are you thinking?” I asked.

  His answer took me by surprise. “Whether to call for delivery or to grab some take-out food.”

  I burst into laughter.

  David squinted at me. “What’s so funny?”

  “I thought you were thinking about something important.”

  “I am.”

  “You’re kidding, right? I mean, here I am stressing over the case and you’re fretting about food.”

  “In my defense, I have spent the last four hours nearly tearing my hair out about this case. Do you know what I have to show for my efforts?”

  “An empty stomach?”

  He nodded. “And a headache. So, I’m hoping that some food will help me with both of my problems.”

  I bit the corner of my lip and didn’t say a word.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  “I just can’t escape the feeling that the answer is right in front of us,” I said.

  “It is,” David said. “Unfortunately, I can’t tell if the right call is to call for delivery or to go and get take-out.”

  “You know, it really shouldn’t be that hard of a decision,” I joked.

  “True. The problem is, right now my brain is like mush.”

  “I believe you have your answer then. If you can’t even think straight, I’ll bet some fresh air will do you some good,” I said.

  David grabbed his keys and got up from his chair. “In that case, let’s get some take-out food.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  David and I headed over to Shannon’s Sandwich Shop. I couldn’t speak for my husband, but my taste buds certainly thanked me for the bacon, lettuce, tomato, and avocado sandwich that I ordered. As much as I loved the sandwich, however, my stomach had an additional request. The last few months, I had been really good about sticking to my diet, but my sweet tooth refused to be denied any longer. That said, I decided to try and muster some willpower.

 

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