Witch Cozy Mystery Nine Book Set

by Amelia Morgan

  Vikki opened her mouth to reply, but Connor shut her down.

  “I said, we’ll get to you.” Connor then turned back to Adam. “Mr. Treadwell, answer the question.”

  Meg could see Vikki staring daggers at her husband.

  Adam stammered, looking flummoxed and hot under the collar. “Like my wife said, we were here.”

  Meg followed up. “What were you doing?”

  Adam and Vikki both answered at the same time. Unfortunately for them, they gave completely different answers.

  “We were watching TV,” Adam responded.

  “We were asleep,” Vikki said.

  An awkward pause followed as it was clear they were making this all up as they went along.

  “Now that you two got that out of your system, why don’t you tell us the truth?” Connor replied.

  Vikki was the first to reply again. “We watched some TV, then went to sleep.”

  Lies came all too naturally to Vikki. It would be hard to wring the truth out of her with a polygraph machine.

  Adam meanwhile looked like a pup tent in a hurricane.

  Connor decided to use that to his advantage. He narrowed his eyes at Adam.

  “Where were you really between midnight and one?” the detective asked.

  Once again, Vikki was staring hard at her husband.

  Adam wiped his brow and then replied. “Like my wife said, we watched some TV, then headed off to bed.”

  “Would you testify to that under oath?”

  Adam took his time answering as sweet beads started forming at his hairline. “Yes.”

  By that point, Vikki couldn’t keep quiet anymore. She was a bull in the China shop of life and was seeing red.

  Vikki tried to whisk Meg and Connor away. “All right. Now that we’ve settled that, it’s time you were both on your way. Please see yourself out.”

  Connor wasn’t about to be strong-armed, but neither was Meg. She’d stayed quiet, letting the detective approach this interview in his typical by-the-book manner.

  She was ready to try her unique brand of questioning. “Trust me, we’ll let you know when we’re done. Now, are you saying you didn’t threaten Sabrina Beckett yesterday then?”

  Vikki scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Now I know you’re lying. You just gave yourself away. She told me that every member of your family approached her yesterday about her book. The question now is, what else have you lied about?” Meg wondered.

  Vikki gave her a death stare. “I’d watch your tone if I were you.”

  “Or what, you’ll kill me like Sabrina was murdered?”

  Vikki got more uppity than ever. “How dare you come into our house and accuse us of murder. Don’t you know who I am?”

  “I know exactly who you are. A woman with a lot to lose,” Meg said.

  Vikki did not take kindly to Meg’s bold approach.

  Meg wasn’t about to let a glare stop her. She carried on. “Secrets have a way of coming out.”

  Vikki played dumb. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Meg laid out some bait, seeing if Vikki would take it. “Maybe the mayor knows what I’m talking about.” She then turned to Adam. “Or, in your case, your wife’s best friend.”

  Meg knew she’d struck a nerve when Adam immediately tensed up.

  Vikki lashed out. “Slander is a serious business. I’d advise you to tread lightly.”

  Meg knew Vikki was trying to intimidate her, but it wouldn’t work. If anything, it only emboldened Meg because she knew she was getting under Vikki’s skin.

  “To find me guilty of slander, you’d have to prove I was lying. Do you really want people digging into your private life?” Meg asked.

  Vikki had heard enough. “That’s it; we’re done here.”

  “Not yet.” Meg pulled the key ring she’d found out of her purse. “Recognize this?”

  Vikki furrowed her brow. “It’s a key ring with my company’s logo on it. So what?”

  “It was found at the scene of the crime,” Meg revealed.

  She looked at both Adam and Vikki, hoping to get a panicked reaction from either of them.

  Vikki instead shut her down. “We’re done talking to you. Now, get out of here.”

  Connor came to Meg’s defense. “The interview ends when we say it does.”

  “We already told you; we couldn’t have killed Sabrina because we were both here at the time of the murder. Now, I don’t have anything else to say to you. Get out or I’ll have you thrown out,” Vikki demanded.

  Meg had sure found a way to strike a nerve. It was clear Vikki didn’t get stood up to very often, if ever. There was no denying how suspicious it looked that Vikki was so eager to shoo them away.

  At the same time, they did verify each other’s alibis and weren’t going to open up any further. Without hard evidence, there wasn’t much more Connor and Meg could do.

  Still, Adam Treadwell looked so shaky he could topple over at any minute. The sleuths headed for the exit, both with the feeling they’d be seeing more of Adam and Vikki again before this case was over.

  On the way out, Meg excused herself and headed to the bathroom. Once inside, she cast a tracking spell on both Vikki and Adam. The spell would keep tabs on their whereabouts throughout the day. Meg had a feeling that if she were able to catch Adam out in the open, maybe she’d get a different answer. Or, perhaps she’d find him having a rendezvous with Vikki’s best friend. In addition, she cast a locator spell that pinpointed the exact whereabouts of all the remaining suspects. There was already enough work to be done without driving around town with nothing to show for it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Meg and Connor went to Robert Treadwell’s townhome next. All the Treadwell children carried around a huge sense of entitlement, but Robert flaunted his the most. Ironically, Robert also contributed the least to society. Actually, that was being kind. As far as Meg was concerned, he contributed nothing but a trust fund attitude.

  Instead of having a job, he spent his days boozing and chasing down his latest flavor of the week. He went through women like a sumo wrestler at an all you can eat buffet. A few years ago, he had the nerve to try and take Meg to bed after having a one-night stand with one of her friends the evening before. She gave him the business, railing against his shameless behavior. It had no effect on his wanton ways.

  Robert responded by lashing out at her in a fury. It was clear he didn’t get told no very often and was unable to take the rejection in stride. Meg wasn’t looking forward to this interview. The sight of his smarmy face would be enough to make her queasy. Still, she had to find a way to keep her personal feelings aside during this interview. This wasn’t about his character; it was about whether he was guilty of murder.

  After a series of knocks, Meg and Connor heard a scuffing noise coming from the other side of the door as well as some coughing.

  Robert then replied without opening the door. His speech was slurred as he spoke. “Go away. I don’t want to buy your stupid, overpriced cookies.”

  Meg had never been mistaken for a little girl trying to earn a merit badge before. It was an even bigger surprise for Connor.

  He didn’t take it well. “This is Connor Smith of the Enchanted Bay police department. I need to ask you a few questions.”

  Robert groaned and still didn’t open the door. “You came all the way over here about thirty-five lousy parking tickets? Give me a break, man. Don’t you have actual important stuff to do instead of coming here and wasting my time?”

  “This isn’t about parking tickets, Mr. Treadwell,” Connor replied.

  “Then what do you want?”

  “I need to ask you some questions about a murder that just occurred.”

  This time, there was no snarky remark from the peanut gallery. Instead, things were dead quiet for a moment.

  Connor got tired of waiting for a reply. “Robert--”

  Just then, the front door opened the door slig
htly, and Robert poked his head out.

  “I didn’t do it,” he said.

  Robert looked very uncharacteristic this morning. He prided himself on his slick, handsome looks. He usually strode around town looking like he’d just stepped out of a men’s magazine. Playing the part of a twenty-eight-year-old lothario apparently took a lot of prepping, to which he’d done none of that morning. Instead, he was unshaven with tussled hair and bloodshot eyes.

  “You don’t even know who we’re talking about,” Connor said.

  “It doesn’t matter. I didn’t murder anyone,” Robert replied.

  “It would be easier to believe that if you hadn’t publicly threatened Sabrina Beckett yesterday,” Meg said.

  Connor followed up. “Can we come in?”

  Robert was very hesitant. “It’s not a good time.”

  His answer only made Meg and Connor more curious. Why was he being so withholding? In the days before she was dating a detective, if a police officer had come to Meg’s door, she would be very forthcoming with them. Robert was anything but. That made them wonder if he was hiding something.

  Connor had heard enough. He laid down the law. “We could always bring you into the station to answer our questions.”

  Robert’s eyes got wide. That got his attention, all right. He sighed, then opened the door all the way. Surprisingly, he was still in his robe. It wasn’t like they’d come by too early. It was after noon. Then again, what did time matter to someone that had no concept of what a 9-5 job was?

  Robert was quick to dismiss himself of any blame. “I don’t know anything about that woman being murdered.”

  “We’re the ones asking the questions here. Now, where were you between midnight and one a.m.?” Connor asked.

  “You’re wasting your time, guys. Yeah, I told Sabrina it would be a wise idea not to publish her book, but I didn’t kill her. I didn’t even know she was dead until you just told me,” Robert reasoned.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” Connor continued.

  “Uh, midnight and one…” Robert searched his brain. “I was here.”

  “You don’t seem too sure of that,” Meg replied.

  “Look, I was here, all right?” Robert asked.

  “Were you alone?” Connor wondered.

  “Yeah. Why does that matter?” Robert replied.

  “Are you kidding? It makes all the difference in the world. That means you have no one to verify your story,” Meg said.

  Robert got panic in his eyes. “For the last time, I was here.”

  “At least that’s your story,” Connor replied.

  Meg then pulled out the key ring she’d found at the scene of the crime.

  “Do you recognize this?” she asked.

  “Of course. It’s a key ring with my family’s company logo on it,” Robert explained.

  “It was found at the scene of the crime,” Meg continued.

  Robert gulped. He took a moment, then got his swagger back. “Good for it.”

  Meg knew it was just an act. Fear was all over his face.

  She pressed on. “Did you happen to drop it last night?”

  Robert reached back into his house and grabbed the set of keys that was the table in his entryway. As he held them up, Meg saw Robert’s keys already had a ring with a Treadwell logo on it.

  “Nope,” he answered.

  “That key ring you have on there looks pretty new. Did you just put it on?

  “Look, I already told you I didn’t murder Sabrina. I didn’t have any reason to kill her,” Robert said.

  Meg disagreed. “Should we ask Colleen Fitzgerald that? Or, how about Bruno Wilkins?”

  Bruno was a local heavyweight boxer. The man was head-to-toe brawn, with a nasty right cross that had already knocked nine people out in the ring. Colleen Fitzgerald was his girlfriend. In Sabrina’s novel, Robert’s character had been carrying on a long-term affair with Colleen’s character, among other women. If Sabrina’s book was as on-the-nose as it seemed and Bruno got word of the affair, Robert might have the beating of a lifetime coming his way.

  Robert was very dismissive. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Robert’s mouth said one thing, but his body language said another.

  Meg called him out. “Why do you look so panicked then?”

  Just then, Robert threw Meg and Connor completely for a loop. “If you’re looking to find out who killed Sabrina, why don’t you go talk to Eric?”

  For a family as tight-knit as the Treadwell’s were known to be, it seemed odd for Robert to throw one of his siblings under the bus.

  Then again, Robert had always walked around with such seemingly bulletproof entitlement, yet chinks in the armor were suddenly starting to form.

  “Why him?” Connor asked.

  Robert remained coy. “I’m just saying.”

  “We will talk to Eric, but we’re not done with you yet,” Connor insisted.

  Meg kept pressing. “Just so you know, pointing the finger of blame at another suspect only makes you look more guilty, not less.”

  Robert became defiant. “You can’t prove I did anything.”

  “You can’t prove you’re innocent either,” Meg countered.

  Finally, Robert shut down. “Look, I don’t have anything else to say to you, and you don’t have enough to arrest me, so we’re done here.”

  As much as they hated to admit it, Robert was right. Without hard evidence, the most Connor could do was hold Robert at the station for seventy-two hours. After that, he’d make bail. Besides, there were still plenty of suspects left to question.

  At the same time, Connor wasn’t about to be strong-armed.

  “I have something more to say to you, too. Don’t even think about leaving town.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  After Robert Treadwell’s eagerness to throw his brother under the bus, Meg and Connor knew exactly who they wanted to question next. They made their way over to Eric Treadwell’s house. Solving a murder case always involved a certain amount of luck, not to mention being in the right place at the right time. Sometimes none of the breaks seemed to go Meg’s way. She was hoping this time would be different.

  Connor pulled into Eric’s driveway just as Eric looked like he was about to pull out. There was no telling where Eric was headed. Could he be trying to skip town? Perhaps this was the kind of luck they’d been looking for.

  Connor was sure to park directly behind Eric’s car, making certain that he wouldn’t be able to leave. Meg and Connor then got out of the police car and approached Eric’s vehicle. Connor made his way to Eric’s driver’s side window while Meg headed to the passenger side.

  Meg took a quick glance at the backseat and surprisingly found it to be quite empty. If Eric was looking to leave town, he was traveling light. Maybe he was planning to stay local after all.

  This was the ideal situation for Meg and Connor to interview a suspect. Eric couldn’t back his car out without hitting Connor’s police car, nor could he head back into his house without going through Connor first. He was pinned in like a sardine in a tin can.

  Eric did not start the conversation with a smile. He was combative, right off the bat.

  “Hey, what’s the big idea?” Eric asked.

  Eric was in his late twenties with short black hair, blue eyes, and an obscenely muscular body. He was almost too muscular for a baseball player. It was almost like the man had no neck. He’d been toiling around the minor leagues for the better part of a decade, never getting a sniff of the majors. At his age, there was a chance he never would. When a ball player approached thirty, their career was usually on the downslide, not the other way around.

  Eric’s character in Sabrina’s novel had secretly been beefing up with illegal performance-enhancing drugs in hopes of getting his first shot at glory. That fictional allegations seemed pretty factual from first glance. It was striking seeing Eric so bulky, considering he was so lean growing up. A lot could be done in the gym
to bulk up, but the sheer brawn on display now was ridiculous.

  “Going somewhere?” Connor asked.

  Eric remained uncooperative. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

  Connor flashed his police badge. “I’d take a different tone with a police officer if I were you.”

  He lightened up as the gravity of the situation sunk in. “It’s just, I have somewhere I need to be.”

  “You’re not trying to skip town, are you?” Connor asked.

  Eric narrowed his eyes. “What’s this all about?”

  “Sabrina Beckett was murdered last night,” Meg said.

  Instead of showing remorse, Eric just looked annoyed that he was being forced to talk to Connor and Meg. “Yeah, so? What does that have to do with me?”

  “That’s what we’re here to find out,” Meg continued.

  “Nothing. That’s what it has to do with me,” he insisted.

  Connor jumped back in. “Not according to your brother. Robert told us if we wanted to find Sabrina’s killer, you’d be the person to talk to.”

  Eric narrowed his eyes as he thought of his brother. When he saw Meg and Connor staring intently at him, he eased up on his anger and tried to put on a better face.

  “Why would he throw you under the bus like that?” Connor asked.

  Eric scoffed. “Are you kidding? That’s no surprise.”

  “Why not?” Connor wondered.

  “Because he’s been doing stuff like that my whole life. He’s always had it out for me, because unlike him, I’ve actually done something with my life,” Eric explained.

  “You didn’t answer our question,” Meg said.

  “Of course, I did. Robert has it out for me,” Eric replied.

  “Not that question. The one about you being the person to talk to if we’re looking to find Sabrina’s killer,” Meg said.

  “If you’re asking me if I killed her, the answer is no,” Eric replied.

  “You sure had motive. Sabrina was going to publish a novel alleging you’ve been using performance enhancing drugs to bulk up, hoping to finally get your big break in the majors,” she explained.

  “That’s nothing but a big lie,” Eric said.