“Scott Bailey told me he heard you two fighting shortly before Paige killed herself. I can’t help but wonder then--”
Tyler wouldn’t let her finish her thought. “Don’t listen to anything that guy says.”
“Why not?”
“He’s out to get me, and would come up with any lie he could think of to make me look bad.”
“Why would he do that?” Meg asked.
“Simple. He’s still jealous that Paige chose me over him. He asked her out, and she turned him down flat. Even after all these months, he still hasn’t gotten over the rejection. The guy is one of those obsessive types.”
“You know, it’s funny, Scott told me you couldn’t be trusted, and you just said the same thing about him.”
“Trust me, he’s lying.”
“Only, here’s the thing. Scott isn’t the only one who told me not to trust you.”
Tyler looked like he was on the verge of blowing his top. “Who else told you that?”
Meg went back to her original point. “You never did answer my question, by the way. Did you have a rough night at your girlfriend’s house?”
“Where do you get off thinking you can talk to me like this?” he snapped.
Tyler clearly thought he could intimidate Meg, but she didn’t back down. Not only did she have her witch powers to come to her defense if she needed them, but she also got the sense that she was finally getting closer to the truth.
“Are you saying you didn’t cheat on Paige with Phoebe Cooper? Or, how about that keepsake necklace? Is the reason you wanted it back so much because you intended to give it to Phoebe?” Meg asked.
Tyler scoffed. “How dare you? I don’t even know where a lie like that even came from.”
“Try Isaac Reed.”
“Wait a minute, you actually believe that scumbag? He’s the one that cheated on Paige, not me.”
“Then why were you so upset with him at the funeral? He was just off to the side, minding his own business, not causing anyone trouble until you went over and picked a fight with him.”
“So many lies. I can’t believe you’ve bought them,” Tyler said.
“Fine, if those are lies, then tell me the truth. Did you fight with Paige the night she killed herself? Did you cheat on her with Phoebe? These are all simple yes or no questions,” Meg replied.
“My girlfriend just died. Give me a break here.”
Meg countered. “My best friend just died. Now, I’m insanely broken up about it, yet you seem completely apathetic. Tell me that doesn’t look suspicious.”
Tyler lashed out at her. “We all mourn in our own way. This is mine. Now, this conversation is over. Get out of here.”
Like that, Tyler opened his door, went inside, and slammed the door behind him. For the first time since Paige’s death, Meg saw real emotion in Tyler’s eyes. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to be from mourning, but rather from Meg pushing him for simple answers. Either way, Meg knew she wasn’t getting any more from Tyler right now. All hope was not lost, though. Maybe Phoebe Cooper wouldn’t be so evasive.
Chapter Sixteen
After the contentious exchange with Tyler Watson, Meg went back to Phoebe Cooper’s place, hoping to get some answers. As Meg approached Phoebe’s door, she worried that Tyler had called her and warned Phoebe to be wary of a possible confrontation. If that was the case, there was nothing Meg could do about it now.
Unfortunately, Tyler must have gotten to Phoebe, because three rounds of knocking got Meg nowhere. Meg knew from her locator spell that Phoebe was inside her townhome, but clearly had no intention of coming out. This called for drastic measures.
Meg looked around to make sure no one watching her. When she was confident no prying eyes would see her action, she knew she was in the clear to cast a spell that would draw Phoebe from her townhome. She just had to settle on which one.
After a moment, an idea came to her. Los Angeles was earthquake country. It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for a little tremor to strike out of nowhere. It was time for a little quake.
Meg really needed to focus to pull this spell off. She closed her eyes and took some deep breaths, then mustered all the power she could. A few moments later, she localized a tremor under Phoebe’s townhome. It was a draining spell, but also an effective one.
Shortly after the quake, Phoebe ran out her front door in a panic. That’s when Meg confronted her while playing on her emotions.
“Did you feel that quake? It was something,” Meg said.
Phoebe took a moment to get her bearings back. “Yeah, it was something all right.”
The quake had shaken up Phoebe pretty good, but the sight of Meg in her front yard pulled her out of her haze. She did a double take, then backed away.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” Phoebe asked.
“I just wanted to talk to you for a second.”
Phoebe wanted to move back to her front door but saw that Meg was blocking the path back there.
“I have nothing to say to you,” Phoebe snapped.
“You might want to change your mind.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“I don’t know what Tyler told you, but I’m just looking for the truth.”
“Get out of my way,” Phoebe demanded.
“Not until I get answers.”
“You’re trespassing. If you don’t leave, I’ll call the police.”
“Be my guest. I’d love for them to hear how you were sleeping with Tyler shortly before his girlfriend supposedly killed herself. Or, that Tyler got into a big blowup fight the night Paige died. It would be hard for them to not re-open the case after hearing something like that, don’t you think?” Meg said.
Phoebe was on her heels now. She started breathing heavily. “What do you want from me?”
“I already told you, I just want the truth. And when I get it, I’ll be happy to leave.”
Phoebe stared Meg down and saw that she meant business. After a moment of contemplation, Phoebe groaned. “Fine. Anything to get you to go away.”
“Is it true then, were you having an affair with your ex-boyfriend while he was still with Paige?”
Phoebe averted her eyes, trying to find the right words to answer with.
“It wasn’t an affair. After Tyler started going out with Paige, we only slept together once, about two months ago. Tyler was frustrated with Paige, they had gotten into a fight, so he came to me for advice. We had a few drinks, one thing led to another, and then Tyler went back to Paige.”
Meg didn’t buy it. “Come on, all this fighting, the secrecy, there has to be more to it than that.”
“I wanted there to be more to it, but Tyler told himself it was just a one night slip up. He wanted to make it work with Paige. To Paige, it wasn’t something that could easily be forgiven. No matter what Tyler did, she just couldn’t get over how he’d betrayed her trust. When she killed herself, Tyler turned to me again. That’s what he always did when things got rough.”
“So, are you two back together then?”
Phoebe shook her head. “No.”
“Phoebe, I said I wanted the truth.”
“That is the truth. Tyler is still hung up on Paige. Maybe he always will be,” she speculated.
“That’s it?”
“That’s the truth, just like you wanted. Now, go away,” Phoebe demanded.
“Not yet. I have another question for you. Did you talk to Paige the day she died?”
Phoebe scoffed. “Are you kidding? Paige and I never spoke to each other. The only thing we ever had in common was being in love with the same man.” She switched gears. “All right, you got your answers. Now, get out of my way.”
Phoebe pushed past Meg and went back inside, slamming the door.
Meg could have pushed further, but it wouldn’t do any good. She wasn’t going to get any more information out of Phoebe. Given that, she decided to move on.
Chapter Seventeen
On the drive to Meg’s ho
tel from Phoebe’s townhome, Meg passed the newspaper’s head offices. That got her thinking of something she’d heard earlier about Grant Cox trying to bury an expose about Trim Metrics. Paige’s old boss had shooed Meg away earlier in the day under the guise of having a lot of work to do. Meg had more ammunition to use against him now. It was time to pay him another visit.
Meg pulled her car over and cast a locator spell, hoping Grant would still be at work. She wondered if he was working late, burning the midnight oil, as so often newspaper editors did. Instead, the locator spell tracked him down elsewhere, at a nearby bar a few blocks away.
That suited her just fine. Meg always preferred confronting people in a public place. There was less chance of an incident when surrounded by other people. Not to mention, she couldn’t have a door slammed in her face, which was an added bonus.
Meg took a deep breath before walking into The Late Edition Bar, a local haunt frequented by the newspaper’s staffers. When she entered, she spotted Grant off to the side of the bar, nursing a cocktail. Grant seemed to have carved out a place for himself and didn’t look eager for company. He was about to get some.
Meg approached him and wasted no time going right after him.
“Mr. Cox, I have to talk to you,” Meg said.
Grant glanced at her out the side of his eyes, then went back to his drink. “I drink alone.”
She had a feeling he’d give her static. It was a good thing she’d come prepared. “I know about the Trim Metrics story you killed.”
That got Grant’s attention. Suddenly, his eyes were wide. “How do you know about that?”
Meg had come up with a cover story to keep from throwing Grant’s secretary under the bus. After all, Meg didn’t want to cost Kristina her job. While on the spot, Meg ended up improving a better answer.
“Come on, you’re in journalism. You know you can find out almost anything as long as you ask the right questions,” Meg replied.
Grant wasn’t going to let his question be brushed off that quickly. He went from apathetic to livid, barking at Meg like she was a lowly intern who’d just spilled coffee on him in the newsroom.
“Tell me how you know about that story,” he demanded.
Grant had a head full of steam and appeared ready to blow his top.
Even though he was much bigger than her and had a loud bark, Meg wasn’t afraid he’d bite.
She stood her ground. “I’m not revealing my source.”
That only made Grant angrier. Just as he was about to fly off the handle, he noticed that his yelling had drawn the attention of the bartender and most of the patrons in the bar. His face went red. The last thing he needed were prying eyes during a discussion like this.
Grant made a surprising move and bolted out of the bar. Meg couldn’t believe he just took off like that. She couldn’t let him get away, so she followed him out into the parking lot.
***
It was a bad time to be wearing heels. There was no way she’d be able to catch up with him in a foot race. By the time she made it outside, he was already halfway across the parking lot. Meg only had one option left. She focused on Grant, then cast a tripping spell.
The spell took effect instantly, making Grant trip over his own feet. As he fell to the asphalt, Meg caught up with him. She knew he’d get up and try to push her away, so she prepared to defend herself the best way possible; by pulling out a can of pepper spray from her purse.
Meg hated that things had devolved into this so quickly, but sometimes she had to take extreme measures to get information out of people.
“What’s the hurry? Don’t you know you can’t run away from the truth?” Meg said.
Grant stared at the pepper spray and knew he couldn’t run. Still, he remained defiant. “Who do you think you are?”
“I’m just a woman trying to piece together the story of what happened to my friend.”
“What are you talking about? She killed herself.”
Meg shook her head. “No, she didn’t. She was murdered, and judging by what I’ve found out; you had a good reason for wanting her dead.”
He scoffed. “You’re accusing me of murdering her now?”
“I told you, I just want the truth. I already know you put the kibosh on her story--”
“Yeah, I did it, but that doesn’t mean I killed her. I just wanted the story dead, not her.”
“Paige was the stubborn type. She refused to give up on the story. So maybe you had to take desperate measures.”
He vehemently denied that. “No. That’s where you’re dead wrong.”
“Where were you the night she died?”
“I was right here, where I am every night after work.”
“Were you with anyone?”
“It’s a bar. There’s always someone around.”
“I meant, is there anyone that can verify you were here?”
“I always drink alone. But either Peter or Sully was tending bar that night. Go ahead and ask them. They’ll tell you,” Grant insisted.
“I will,” Meg said.
“All right, you got what you wanted. Now, leave me alone.”
Meg chuckled. “You’re not in the clear yet.”
“Save the tough as nails approach for someone else. I’m a newspaper editor. Being able to catch bullets with my teeth is practically part of my job description. Besides, you’re barking up the wrong tree anyway.”
Meg furrowed her brow. “What are you talking about?”
“If you’re looking for someone with a reason to want Paige dead, you should talk to Owen Stewart.”
Meg knew he was trying to throw the suspicion off himself, but maybe he was telling the truth about Owen as well. She heard him out.
“Why Owen?”
“Paige wrote a scathing expose about him, revealing his affair with an intern. It derailed his bid for a city council seat and broke up his marriage. Trust me, no one had a bigger reason to want revenge on Paige than Owen.”
Meg could tell by the look in Grant’s eyes that he was telling the truth. She also knew he wouldn’t give her any further information, no matter how much she pushed him. Considering that, she let him go.
When Grant got in his car and drove away, Meg went back into the bar and talked to the bartender. Sully O’Ryan confirmed Grant came into the bar every night. At the same time, Sully didn’t keep tabs on Grant, and on the night of Paige’s death, it was a busy evening for the bar. Grant could have easily slipped out without Sully noticing. Seeing as there were no security cameras in the bar, there was no way for Meg to concretely verify Grant’s alibi. She also couldn’t blow it out of the water either. Perhaps, Grant had been telling the truth. At the least, he gave Meg a new lead to follow up on.
Chapter Eighteen
Before confronting Owen, Meg wanted to make sure she went into the situation as well-armed as possible. It was hard enough getting some of these people to talk even when she had dirt on them. Going after a complete stranger was a completely different animal. She wanted to see how much bark and how much bite she was in for. Unfortunately, she didn’t have a good feeling about this one.
When she returned to her hotel room, she opened up her laptop to begin researching. While the computer booted up, she sat down on the bed and closed her eyes, preparing to cast a locator spell. Before she had the chance to, she heard a knock at the door.
That put her on high alert, mostly because she wasn’t expecting anyone. She hadn’t even told anyone what hotel she was staying at. Immediately, she wondered who it could it be. More importantly, what did they want?
Briefly, she thought maybe it was just a hotel maid, looking to see if Meg wanted the room cleaned. Foolishly, she hadn’t put a “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door. And yet, it was late to clean the room. Whoever it was, she wished they’d go away, but as she checked the peephole, she knew they wouldn’t.
What she saw in that peephole made her panic. Of all the people to pay her an unexpected visit, Detective Roy Brees
was the last one she’d ever expect. There was only one possible reason he could be at the door; he’d gotten wind that she’d been investigating this case. That was bad news. A grumpy man like that was probably itching to chew her out.
Part of her wanted to climb out the window just to avoid being told off. That thought ended up being more fleeting than she expected as she heard another round of knocking at the door.
That was followed by the detective calling her out. “Ms. Walton, answer the door. I know you’re in there. I saw you come in.”
There was no denying the impatience in his voice. He was miffed, all right, and she had no choice but to be drawn into conversation. If she was lucky, maybe she could make this brief.
As Meg opened the door, she was struck by a strange sense of irony. She’d been showing up at a number of people’s doors recently and forced them into awkward conversation. Now, she was the one being put into a tight spot.
Knowing how ruffled the detective’s feathers must be, she decided to take a soft glove approach to this conversation.
“Detective, what are you doing here?”
He was curt and clearly in no mood for small talk. “Checking up on you.”
Meg played dumb. “Why?”
He called her out. “Ms. Walton, I’m not a fool.”
“I know you’re not.”
“Then stop treating me like one.”
“Oh, Ok. Look, whatever I did--”
He was so steamed he didn’t even let her finish her sentence. “I need to explain something to you.”
“All right, go ahead,” Meg replied.
“I think it would be better if we did this inside your room.”
That was the last thing she wanted. He was using the same tricks she did when questioning suspects. Once he was inside her room, it would be hard to get him out again.
Before she had the chance to reply, he said something that put her in a corner.
“You probably don’t want other hotel guests hearing what I have to say.”
Witch Cozy Mystery Nine Book Set Page 22
