Witch Cozy Mystery Nine Book Set
Page 12
“Wow. Is any of this true?”
“It’s our job to find that out.”
Connor took a deep breath. “What’s next?”
“Eric Treadwell’s character in the book is a minor league baseball player so desperate to make the big leagues that he starts taking performance enhancing drugs,” Meg said.
“I suppose it’s not a coincidence that Eric happens to be on the roster for a Triple-A baseball team based out of Fresno, huh?”
“Yeah. Purely coincidental,” she deadpanned.
“If Eric failed a drug test, he could practically kiss any chance at making the big leagues goodbye.”
“Indeed.”
“Interesting.”
“Not as interesting as this. In the book, Steven Treadwell’s character is a pharmacist that illegally provides performance-enhancing drugs to his brother under the table, risking both his license and his brother’s career in the process,” Meg explained.
“You’re right. That’s a doozy,” Connor replied.
“It’s not all.”
“Is there a member of the Treadwell family without a crazy secret?”
“Not in the book there isn’t. Lindsay Treadwell’s character is next. In the novel, it is uncovered that a few years ago, she got unexpectedly pregnant and had a secret abortion. Lindsay was eager to put it behind her, but the prospective father, knowing how opposed to abortion her family was, decided to blackmail Lindsay at the risk of spilling the secret to her parents.”
Connor started rubbing his forehead.
“Are you ok?” Meg wondered.
“There’s just so much scandal; it’s hard keeping track of it all.”
“Don’t worry. There’s only one more secret to go.”
“All right, lay it on me,” he said.
“Last but not least is Robert Treadwell’s character. In the book, the guy sleeps with everything that moves, including the trophy wife of a retired heavyweight boxer.”
“That’s funny. We seem to have a prominent, retired heavyweight boxer living in town.”
“I’ll bet that’s just a wild coincidence, though,” she joked.
Connor laughed. “Still, if there was one person I wouldn’t want mad at me, it would be a heavyweight boxer.”
“So true.”
Connor looked out into the distance. “I can’t help but wonder how much of what Sabrina wrote was fact, and how much was fiction.”
“I imagine you hear a lot when you work as a family’s maid for five years,” Meg said.
“I’ll bet you do.”
“I know at least one of the secrets is true. Someone was so desperate to keep this book from seeing the light of day that they were willing to kill to keep the truth buried.”
“The question is, who?” Connor wondered.
“If we knew that, we’d be eating celebratory donuts right now.”
“Don’t even mention donuts at a time like this.”
“You’re right. We need to focus on this case. We have our work cut out for us on this one,” Meg said.
“We certainly do. Let’s get to it,” Connor replied.
Chapter Ten
As Meg and Connor left the diner to dig into this case, they were greeted by the least likely of people; Meg’s mother. Beth Walton was a lot of things, but a diner regular wasn’t one of them. She preferred silver spoons, not greasy spoons. Which led to the inevitable question; why would she be setting foot here?
Beth had her own agenda. “You two are such a cute couple. You’ll have such adorable kids one day.”
Uh oh. Nana fever was rearing its ugly head. Meg’s desire to take things slow with her boyfriend was no match for her mother’s ticking biological grandmother clock. Given all that had happened this morning, Meg didn’t have time for a baby-yearning interlude.
“Mom, Connor and I just started dating,” Meg pointed out.
Beth would not be deterred. “So? It’s never too early to make your mother’s dream of being a grandma come true.”
“Trust me, it’s definitely not the time for this discussion.”
“In your mind, it’s never the time for it.”
Meg had to find a way to switch gears and fast. “Mom, are you lost, or did a sudden urge for chili cheese fries come to you out of the blue?”
“Actually, I’ve been looking to find you,” Beth replied.
Connor’s mind drifted to the mouth-watering, artery-clogging fries that he’d been able to just barely resist earlier. “Never say the words cheese and fries in the same sentence around me. A man can only resist so much.”
Meg laughed.
Beth had a different reaction. Her eyes rolled back in her head. “Connor, it’s a good thing you have a better taste in women than you do in food. If you’re going to go starchy, go with garlic mashed potatoes or, don’t bother starching at all.”
“Thanks. Now I’m craving fries and mashed potatoes,” Connor bemoaned.
Meg chuckled. “Why don’t you throw is some mac and cheese too and see if your arteries completely throw in the towel?”
Connor was nearly salivating by this time. “If you need me, I’ll be over here trying to scrounge up whatever willpower I can muster.”
Beth turned to her daughter. “At least you know the way to your boyfriend’s heart. It’s through his bottomless pit of a stomach.”
Meg had something else on her mind. “Mom, you still haven’t told me what you’re doing here.”
“I heard the bad news about Sabrina and wanted to know if there was anything I could do to make you feel better,” Beth replied.
Connor shook out of his food-craving daze in a hurry. “Wait a minute. How did you hear about Sabrina’s death? I told my men to keep a lid on that news until we got a better jump on the investigation.”
Meg knew the answer to this one. Beth was the nosiest person her daughter knew. Meg’s mother pretended it was for the family’s safety, but deep down, Beth was a gossip hound. Beth was desperate to keep a lid on the fact that they were a family of witches. She feared if their secret ever got out that they’d be persecuted.
In Beth’s mind, the best defense was a good offense. If she was able to stay ahead of the curve when it came to the latest news, she’d always have a leg up if any of the locals became suspicious of the family. At the same time, having a beat on all the hot gossip in town fed Beth’s desire to be in the middle of everyone’s business. Beth didn’t want to admit it, but her daughter knew it was true.
Beth opted for an understated answer. “The rumor mill.”
Beth couldn’t shake Connor off that easily. “How did you know to find Meg here?”
Meg and Beth gave each other knowing looks. This one would be harder to tap dance around. This had obviously been the work of a locator spell that her mother had cast. Of course, Beth couldn’t tell Connor that without revealing the secret that they were witches.
Meg was curious to see how her mother would talk her way out of this. From personal experience, Meg knew it was easy to dig herself into a hole that was ridiculously hard to climb out of.
Beth handled the question with great dexterity. “I had a hunch.”
Connor couldn’t help but laugh. “I guess sleuthing runs in the family.”
Concern came to Beth’s face. She turned to her daughter. “You’re going to let Connor handle this case, aren’t you?”
Before Meg had a chance to reply, Connor jumped in. “That’s what I said. Your daughter is a little bit on the stubborn side.”
“A little? If she were any more bull-headed, Spanish matadors would be waving red cloths at her in front of a crowd of spectators,” Beth joked.
Connor laughed.
Meg jumped in. “Why are you guys talking to me like I’m not right here? I can hear you.”
“Speaking of, can I borrow my daughter for a second?” Beth asked.
“Of course, Ms. Walton,” Connor replied.
Chapter Eleven
Meg already knew what
was coming. There was also no way to stop it. Meg braced for the inevitable lecture as her mother pulled her aside.
“You’re not really going to investigate this case, are you?” Beth asked.
Meg’s eyes opened wide. “I’ve experienced a whole lot of dejavu considering it’s not even noon yet.”
Beth looked resigned. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
“Mom, we’ve been through this before. I can’t rest until justice is done.”
“That’s what the police department is for. Not to mention your boyfriend.”
“If this was a normal circumstance, I’d be happy to leave it to them. But this is far from normal. It looks like one of the Treadwell’s did this.”
If Beth looked concerned before, she was beside herself now. “Which is all the more reason why you should sit this one out.”
Meg became exasperated. “Everyone keeps saying that. Everyone is so afraid of the Treadwell’s.”
“Everyone that’s smart is.”
“Sabrina wasn’t afraid.”
“And now she’s gone.”
Meg bit the corner of her lip and got resolve all over her face. “I know they’re powerful and think the world revolves around them, but it doesn’t. Someone needs to stand up to them.”
“How about Connor?” Beth suggested.
“If anything, he needs my help with this case more than ever. After all the Treadwell’s are a handful.”
“Don’t I know it?” Beth bemoaned.
“Either way, justice will be served, even if I have to serve it myself. Treadwell’s or not, mark my words, I’m not going to let them get away with murder.”
“I’d be careful with proclamations like that. If anyone has experience with the lengths people will go to in order to keep secrets, it’s us.”
“There’s one big difference. The Treadwell’s secrets hurt. Our witch secret can be used to help others.”
“It could just as easily be used against us as well. I’m warning you, do not underestimate the Treadwell’s.”
Meg had heard a lot of that throughout the morning. No one in town believed it was a good idea to trifle with the Treadwell’s. Her mother’s warning seemed to take on a different tone than the rest. Just as the investigation of this case was highly personal to Meg, Beth’s warning had an emotionally-charged slant to it.
Meg’s puzzle-solving mind went into overdrive. “Mom, do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
Beth played dumb. “What are you talking about?”
Meg didn’t buy the act. “This is me you’re talking to here. Something happened between you and the Treadwell’s in the past, didn’t it?”
Beth averted her gaze.
Meg followed up. “Tell me, what was it?”
Beth took a moment to figure out how she was going to phrase her answer, and then came clean. “There was a time in my younger days when I wanted to be a journalist.”
This was all news to Meg. “You did?”
Beth nodded. “Go figure. I haven’t woken up every day of my life wanting to run a donut shop.” She got back to the point. “When I was in my mid-twenties, I got a job at the Enchanted Bay Weekly. One day I got a great tip on a story about the Treadwell Corporation underpaying their staff and disobeying labor laws. Before the article was set to hit the press, Vikki Treadwell got wind of it and put the kibosh on it in true Treadwellian fashion. She laid out a huge offer, bought the paper, and then promptly had me canned.”
“That’s awful.”
“That’s the Treadwell’s for you.”
“Why didn’t you take her to the labor board for unlawful termination?”
“I wanted to, but your grandmother talked me out of it.”
“Why?”
“There’s a couple of reasons. The first was, she was worried that the more exposure I got, the bigger the chance there was of our witch family secret coming out.”
“What’s the other reason?” Meg asked.
“That the Treadwell’s always seem to find a way to come out on top,” Beth replied.
Meg narrowed her eyes. “Not this time.”
“That family’s killer instinct has already cost one person their life. I don’t want you to be next.”
Meg was more determined than she’d ever been. “I won’t.”
Knowing how stubborn her daughter was, Beth knew there was no way to talk Meg out of investigating this case. There was only one thing Beth could say now.
“Good luck, honey. You’re going to need it.”
Chapter Twelve
With the possible suspects all squared away in their heads, Meg and Connor were able to get down to investigating. Their first stop was the Treadwell mansion. It was a sight to behold. The place was the most ostentatious house in the entire county. Considering the fact that they lived in California, that said a lot. The carefully manicured grounds around the estate were so sprawling that Meg could barely see the actual house from the front gate.
If Meg had been sleuthing alone, she would have had to resort to magic to get inside the wall that surrounded the property. Since Connor was by her side, his police badge should be enough to grant them access.
Connor waited for a response after hitting the call button at the front gate.
“Yes?” a female voice said.
“Connor Smith here from the Enchanted Bay police department. I need to talk to Vikki and Adam Treadwell.”
A few moments of silence passed with no response, and then the female voice replied.
“What’s this regarding?”
“The murder of Sabrina Beckett,” he replied.
About a minute passed this time before the female voice was heard over the call box again.
“I’m sorry, the Treadwell’s don’t know anything about that.”
It wasn’t a surprise that the family was trying to give them the runaround. At the same time, Connor wasn’t about to put up with that, and neither was Meg. She was already plotting a way to cast a spell that would open the gate. The only reason she hadn’t cast it yet was because she hadn’t figured out how to do it without Connor growing suspicious of her witch powers.
It turned out she wouldn’t have to. Connor laid down the law.
“You tell them they can either talk to us now, or we can bring them to the station and talk to them there.”
That got a quick response. The Treadwell’s may have thought they were above the law, but when it came to something like this, the law won out.
Before Connor knew it, the gate buzzed and opened. Meg and Connor were in business. The question became, how dirty would this business get?
***
Vikki and Adam Treadwell met with Meg and Connor in their parlor. As Meg looked around the house, her head was on a swivel. So this was how the other half lived. Luxury trimmings were everywhere, from the artwork on the wall to the custom tile and crown moldings in the entryways. No expense had been spared. Sabrina had told Meg about the place when she used to work there, but words didn’t do the mansion justice. Some things were so luxurious; they had to be seen to be believed.
It was crazy to think she was only a twenty-minute drive from her modest house. She felt like she was a world away. Meg had to take a deep breath to refocus her attention on the case at hand. She couldn’t let herself get sidetracked by the various amenities inside the mansion, regardless of how distracting they were.
“Let’s make this quick. I have important things to do,” Vikki Treadwell groused.
She was a tall, voluptuous woman with curly, long brown hair, hazel eyes, and a sense of entitlement usually reserved for heads of state. The real thing that stood out to Meg was Vikki’s outfit. The woman was fanatical about the color purple. In press clippings, interviews, and chance encounters around town, Meg had never seen the woman wearing another color. True to form, Vikki was clad in a head-to-toe purple outfit today, which made her look more like an eggplant than she probably intended.
Connor wouldn’t let himse
lf be intimidated by Vikki’s dismissive tone. “How long this takes depends on how truthful your answers are.”
“Considering we had nothing to do with this, you’ll be seeing yourself out in no time,” Vikki replied.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Connor continued.
Vikki groaned. “Will you stop wasting our time already? Do you have any idea how valuable my time is?”
Vikki was awfully standoffish and hostile for a woman who didn’t even think she had any business being questioned by the police. The air of superiority she operated with came as no surprise, but it did hang over the proceedings like a thick storm cloud blackening the sky.
It was funny. Up until that point, Vikki’s husband hadn’t made a peep. His mouth hadn’t even opened in an attempt to speak. He just stood like a statue, almost like a butler awaiting orders rather than a husband who was supposedly her other half.
Connor must have picked up on that because he turned to Adam Treadwell with his first question.
“Mr. Treadwell, where were you last night between midnight and one a.m.?” Connor said.
Adam was a meek-looking man, not only in his nebbish stature but in his mousey voice. If Meg didn’t know better, she’d think he was afraid of his own shadow. Although, given the steamroller of a wife he lived with, he had far more to be afraid of than his shadow.
The saying about opposites attracting couldn’t be truer in Adam and Vikki’s case. She was a force of nature; he could be blown over by a stiff wind. Then again, two blustery personalities would have a hard time co-existing without bringing on matrimonial armageddon, so maybe he was the yin to her yang.
Not surprisingly, Vikki jumped in to answer the question that had been directed at her husband.
“We were here—together,” Vikki said.
Connor took offense at the way Vikki was trying to run this interview on her terms.
“I was talking to your husband. But don’t worry, we’ll get to you.”