Al took her order and went off to pour her cup of coffee.
Meg approached Stacey and decided to ease her way into the conversation. “Late night?”
Stacey ignored her, not even bothering to glance her way.
That didn’t deter Meg. “We’ve all had those nights.”
This time, Stacey turned towards Meg and replied curtly.
“If you haven’t noticed, I’m in a hurry.”
Despite the not-so-subtle hints Stacey was dropping about her general disinterest in this conversation, Meg didn’t take her cues.
“Let me guess, you’re running late for work?”
Stacey had heard enough. She wanted to shut this conversation down immediately.
“Look, I don’t know who you are, but I can’t really talk right now,” Stacey replied.
Connor stepped in and flashed his police badge. “Make time.”
Stacey got dead quiet. She tried to keep from freaking out, but was having a tough time keeping a straight face. “Police?”
“Detective Connor Smith, Enchanted Bay Police Department.”
Stacey was completely rattled and couldn’t figure out how to get her composure back. “What do you want?”
“We need to ask you a few questions,” Connor started to say.
Stacey interrupted. “Whatever it is, I didn’t do it.”
“You don’t even know what we’re about to ask,” Connor continued.
“Oh, right.” Realizing she’d jumped the gun, Stacey settled herself down. “Ok, what’s this about?”
“Walter Newman has been murdered,” Connor reveal.
“I know, it’s awful,” Stacey replied.
Meg didn’t know what Stacey’s reaction to being told about Walter’s death would be, but it certainly wasn’t that. Stacey acted like the murder was common knowledge already. That was in no way the case.
It was time to start pressing her. Stacey’s answer to this question would be more interesting than ever.
“You know about the murder? How?” Meg asked.
Stacey stammered. “Claire Everson called me really early this morning and told me there were half a dozen squad cars at his house. When she told me she could see the police bagging up Walter’s body, I couldn’t believe it. Sure enough, when I drove by his house this morning, I saw the police had taped off the area. That’s when I knew everything Claire had told me was true.”
Claire Everson lived across the street a few houses down from Meg. She was a nosy septuagenarian who always found a way to get into people’s business. Meg had no doubt Claire was watching from her front window while all the police activity was going on at Walter’s house.
Surprisingly, despite the cracking in Stacey’s voice as she answered, her story was actually plausible, even if Meg wasn’t sure whether to believe it or not. At the same time, Meg couldn’t dispute it either.
Meg wasn’t the only one with questions.
Connor fired off one of his own. “Ms. Patterson, where were you last night between the hours of midnight and one?”
“I was at home,” Stacey replied.
“Alone?” Connor followed up.
She got short with him. “I don’t see why that’s any of your business.”
“Trust me, it’s quite relevant.” Connor then narrowed his eyes and stared her down, hoping to intimidate her. “Now, are you going to answer the question, or not?”
Stacey caved. “Yeah, I was alone. Why?”
“If you were alone, that means you have no one to corroborate your alibi,” Connor replied.
Stacey freaked out. “Alibi? But, I didn’t do anything.”
“That’s your story,” Connor said.
Stacey was outraged. “I can’t believe you actually think I could have done something so horrible as murder Walter.”
Meg jumped back in. “Why not? You had a motive,”
Stacey shook her head. “No, I didn’t.”
“Playing dumb now, are you? Stacey, you’re his mistress,” Meg argued.
Stacey corrected her. “I was his mistress, you mean. Walter broke things off with me when his wife found out about us.”
Stacey thought she was doing herself a favor. Instead, she’d just dug a deeper hole.
“So, you’re saying you’re a jilted mistress? That’s all the more motive for murder,” Meg replied.
Stacey went into full denial mode. “No. That’s not how it was.”
“How was it then? I can’t imagine you took the break up well,” Meg said.
“Look, I didn’t do this,” Stacey replied.
“It would be a lot easier to believe that if you had someone to verify your alibi,” Connor added.
Stacey became defiant. “You can’t prove I did this.”
“You can’t prove you didn’t,” Connor argued.
Stacey tried to change the subject. “You’re talking to the wrong person here. If you want to find Walter’s killer, you should be talking to Tabitha Newman.”
“Why is that?” Meg wondered.
“Come on, you must have known how angry she was about Walter’s affair? The woman was so furious, she refused to even listen to any of his apologies and was determined to rake him over the coals in divorce court,” Stacey argued.
“Stacey, we know you’re just trying to deflect,” Connor said.
“Seriously, talk to Tabitha, you’ll see I’m right,” Stacey replied.
“We will be talking to her. We’re just not done with you yet,” Connor said.
“Oh, yeah you are. I have nothing more to say, and I know you don’t have enough to arrest me on, so you’re just wasting your time,” Stacey insisted.
It was true, Connor didn’t have enough evidence to arrest her, but he could hold her for as long as seventy-two hours, hoping that she’d break down. With it being so early in the case and so many other suspects to question, the detective decided to let her go, but not without a warning first.
“Don’t even think about leaving town,” Connor said.
Stacey paid for her coffee and muffin, then left the diner in a hurry.
Chapter Eight
Tabitha Newman was the next logical suspect to question. Not only was she Walter Newman’s estranged wife, but Stacey Watterson also happened to have just thrown her under the bus. The emerald green Victorian house was sandwiched on both sides by old growth, leafy trees. It was a rather unassuming place, considering that Tabitha and Walter Newman owned the most successful grocery store in town.
The sleuths went up the front steps, which led to a huge, wraparound patio, and knocked on the front door. A few moments later, Tabitha Newman answered. Tabitha was a redhead in her late fifties with an athletic build, freckled face, and a floral-print dress on. She only cracked the door open slightly, clearly wary of talking to Meg and Connor.
“Yes?” Tabitha said.
Connor pulled out his police badge. “Ms. Newman, I’m Connor Smith with the Enchanted Bay Police Department. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”
Usually, Connor’s badge made more headway in opening doors. Suspects usually didn’t hesitate to invite him in once he showed his credentials. That wasn’t true this time. Tabitha remained uncomfortable opening the door all the way, no less inviting them in. Typically, that was a sign that a suspect was hiding something.
“I’m sorry, what’s this about?” Tabitha asked.
“Why don’t we talk about this inside?” Connor suggested.
Tabitha folded her arms and kept her foot down. “No. We can talk right here.”
Meg found that hard-lining stance to be quite curious and called her on it. “Hiding something?”
“No. I just want to know what this is about,” Tabitha replied.
“Your husband’s murder,” Connor revealed.
Tabitha’s face went white.
“Still want to talk about this out here?” Connor asked.
Suddenly, Tabitha changed her tune. She led Meg and Connor into her living room. At
a time like this, it was crucial for Meg to keep her focus on the case. Unfortunately, the décor inside the Newman household made that very difficult. The walls were lined with gaudy, flower print wallpaper. If that wasn’t enough, there were potted plants everywhere. It was like Tabitha had converted her home into a de facto greenhouse.
Apparently, Meg was the only one distracted by the ferns and other shrubbery that was surrounding them. Connor stared at Tabitha as she went through a slew of emotions.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Connor said.
“I can’t believe it. This is such a shock,” Tabitha replied.
“You didn’t know he’d been killed then?” Connor asked.
“No. Of course not. Who could have done such a thing?” Tabitha wondered.
“That’s what we’re here to find out,” Meg said.
Tabitha didn’t like where this conversation was going. “Wait a minute. What are you implying?”
“Mrs. Newman, where were you last night between eleven and midnight?” Connor said.
“I was asleep,” Tabitha replied.
“Here?” Connor asked.
Tabitha narrowed her eyes. “Where else would I be sleeping?”
If Tabitha didn’t like that last question, she was really going to hate the next one.
“Were you alone?” Meg wondered.
Tabitha replied, sternly. “Yes. Why?”
“That means you have no one to verify your alibi then,” Meg pointed out.
Tabitha tried to keep a lid on her outrage but was unable to. “Hey, I didn’t do this.”
“What would you say if I told you Stacey Watterson pointed the finger of blame at you when we asked her who might have killed Walter?” Connor asked.
Tabitha scoffed. “Of course she would say that.”
“Because it’s true?” Connor replied.
Tabitha shook her head. “No, because that no good hussy has it out for me. Can’t you see? She’s just trying to throw the blame off of herself.”
Meg had a salient point of her own to throw back at her. “We could say the same about you. I mean, here you are trying to throw Stacey under the bus.”
“You two don’t get it. Stacey was obsessed with my husband. She couldn’t deal with him breaking things off with her to try and make amends with me,” Tabitha revealed.
“Speaking of, you never let your husband make those amends. As a matter of fact, you were in the middle of a highly contentious divorce. That’s one killer motive,” Connor said.
Tabitha couldn’t disagree more. “You have it all wrong. With the divorce not too far from being finalized, I was about to be free of him anyway. Killing him would be ridiculous.”
“People have a way of letting their emotions get the best of them, especially when love goes wrong,” Meg explained.
Connor piggybacked on that point. “And, since you were technically just separated and not legally divorced from your husband, with him dead, you’d stand to inherit everything. If this had happened after the divorce had gone through, you’d be out at least half that money.”
“For the last time, I didn’t do this,” Tabitha declared.
“It would be a lot easier to believe that if you had someone who could verify your alibi,” Connor replied.
Tabitha folded her arms. “I don’t have anything else to say to you, except, feel free to see yourself out.”
The sleuths could have kept on questioning Tabitha, but it was pretty clear she wasn’t going to tell them anything else. At the same time, Connor didn’t have enough on her to arrest her either, so he decided to move on to the next suspect.
Chapter Nine
Next on the list was Walter Newman’s estranged son, Jake. It turned out there was plenty of drama to go around in the Newman family, although Jake’s dislike of his father went back further than just his affair. From what Walter had told Meg, Jake had long resented how many hours his father put in at the grocery store.
He thought his dad put profit-chasing ahead of family time and that he and his mother had been neglected too often. At the same time, despite his rancor over the time and attention his father put into growing his business, Jake had no problem enjoying the financial spoils of his dad’s labor.
Unlike the long hours his old man put in at the grocery store, Jake only worked part time. If he wanted, he could have had a career track at the supermarket. Jake thought that was too corporate. Instead, he was a tattoo artist at Enchanted Ink.
That’s where Meg and Connor met up with him. Jake was cleaning his tattoo gun when the sleuths entered. Jake was a rail thin guy in his mid-twenties with long, rock star-like brown hair, ripped jeans, and a tank top, and a slew of tattoos up and down his arms. Some apples fell far from the tree, but Jake belonged in a whole different orchard. It was hard to believe he was Walter and Tabitha’s son.
Jake looked up at them quizzically, as Meg and Connor were clearly not his usual clientele.
“Dude, you here to get inked?” Jake asked.
“Not quite,” Connor replied.
The detective then pulled out his badge.
Jake was even more confused. “Man, what’s this about?”
“We have to ask you some questions about your dad’s murder,” Connor replied.
Jake sighed, not out of mournful feelings about his father’s death, but more that he had to be inconvenienced by answering questions about the murder. “I figured you’d come here after talking to my mom.”
“Your mom called you then?” Connor replied.
Jake nodded. “Of course, she did. Family takes care of each other.”
Meg jumped in. “Unless we’re talking about your father, you mean?”
Jake glared at her. “This is so not cool. I don’t like how you grilled my mom like she could have done this--”
Meg interrupted. “I’d focus on yourself if I were you.”
“Trust me, I don’t like how you’re coming at me either. The fact is, I don’t even know why you’re wasting your time talking to me,” Jake replied.
“It was no secret that you didn’t get along with your father,” Meg said.
“So? I didn’t do anything,” Jake replied.
“I’m sure your estrangement wasn’t helped by finding out your dad was having an affair with the produce manager of his grocery store,” Meg said.
Jake’s reply was drenched in sarcasm. “No, it didn’t, but thanks for opening up that old wound.”
“The point is, someone killed your dad, and you had plenty of reasons to want him dead,” Meg pointed out.
“I already told you I didn’t do it,” Jake replied.
Connor stepped back in. “Talk is cheap. An alibi is priceless. Jake, where were you last night between eleven and midnight?”
“I was watching a movie at home with my girlfriend,” Jake answered.
“Your girlfriend will be able to corroborate your story then?” Connor replied.
Jake nodded.
“I’m going to need her name and phone number,” Connor added.
“Sure thing. Angela Davidson, 555-7235,” Jake said.
Connor pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “Let’s see if your story checks out.”
Meg had a different question. “What movie were you watching?”
“Murder And Mayhem In Montclair,” Jake replied.
“That’s a curious choice, isn’t it?” Meg asked.
Meg was understating things. Considering Jake was a suspect in his father’s murder investigation, it was either extreme irony or rather telling that Jake was supposedly watching a movie about a notorious murder the same evening his father was killed.
Jake didn’t seem fazed by the eerie connection. “I like police procedurals.”
“In movies, you mean?” Meg replied. “Because, you don’t seem to be liking this police procedure in real life.”
Jake glared at her. “Very funny.”
Shortly after, Connor returned from outside with a shocked look on his
face. As unlikely as it was to believe, Jake’s story actually checked out. His girlfriend verified every word of his alibi, right down to the fact that they were watching “Murder And Mayhem In Montclair” at the time of the killing. As much as it pained Meg and Connor to admit it, for now at least, Jake was in the clear. That meant they had no choice but to let Jake get back to his tattooing.
Still, Meg wasn’t entirely convinced of Jake’s innocence. Just as his mother called him before the sleuth’s arrival, Jake could have put a call in to his girlfriend before the detective and Meg arrived to pre-arrange an alibi. Unfortunately, Meg and Connor couldn’t poke a hole in Jake’s alibi. At least, not yet.
Chapter Ten
After working their way through the Newman family, Meg and Connor next headed over to Walter Newman’s business, The Discount Dachshund Grocery Store. It didn’t take long for Meg to notice something out-of-sorts. Usually, someone dressed as Doxie J. Savings, the store’s wiener dog mascot, was standing at the entrance welcoming customers.
Meg always felt bad for the low wage employee that got stuck with that shift. The costume itself was bulky and head to toe, looking like something a mascot of a professional sports team would wear. She could only imagine how hot it was throughout the workday. For some unknown reason, Doxie J. Savings was nowhere to be found today, replaced by a cardboard cutout near the front entrance with a slogan on it reading “Don’t miss the best doggone deals in town.”
Once inside the grocery store, Meg and Connor were on the lookout for the three suspects that worked there. The first, Stacey Watterson, who they had already questioned, was the produce manager. Next was Owen Anderson, the front end manager who had applied for a promotion, but had been beaten out by Noah O’Leary. Finally, there was Noah, who was the longtime assistant manager of the store.
Meg expected to spot Stacey Watterson first. The produce section was right beside the entrance to the store, and, being the manager of that department, it made sense that they’d run into her. But, Stacey was nowhere to be found.
The sleuth’s ended up tracking down Owen Anderson first, although it was no thanks to his name tag. Unlike all the other employees in the store, Owen wasn’t wearing one. Meg just happened to know what he looked like. Owen was an athletic man in his late forties with short, sandy brown hair, a handsome, square-jawed face, and chocolate brown eyes.
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