Meg wanted to be perfectly clear, so there was no misinterpreting her statements. “Make no mistake, we’re asking you about Tabitha now. So, what do you have to say for yourself?”
Owen remained evasive. “Nothing. There’s no law against us being together.”
“Don’t you find it suspicious that you were having an affair with the wife of the murder victim?” Connor asked.
Owen was dismissive. “You’ve got this all wrong.”
“I don’t want to hear excuses. I want the truth,” Connor said.
“Tabitha and I got together after she and Walter had already separated. We weren’t having an affair that busted up their marriage or anything. I’m just the guy she started dating while she was on the rebound,” Owen explained.
“Did Walter know you were dating his estranged wife?” Meg asked.
“I don’t see how that’s relevant,” Owen replied.
Owen was either stupid, or he was just playing dumb.
Either way, Meg wasn’t having it. “If Walter knew you were dating his wife, it could explain why he didn’t give you the promotion. We know you feel burnt about getting passed up for that manager job. Maybe killing Walter was payback. After all, your new girlfriend stands to inherit Walter’s fortune, including this business.”
“I already told you I didn’t kill him,” Owen said.
Connor narrowed his eyes. “That’s harder to believe now.”
Meg followed up. “Were you really alone last night like you said, or did you just tell us that when you were actually with Tabitha?”
“Like I said, I was alone,” Owen replied.
“You’re sticking with your story then?” Meg asked.
Owen nodded. “Yes.”
“Unfortunately, you still don’t have anyone to verify that story,” Meg replied.
“It’s not just my story. It’s the truth,” Owen insisted.
“It’s getting harder to separate fact from fiction the further we dig into this case,” Connor replied.
“That’s not my problem. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to work,” Owen said.
Chapter Eighteen
Owen Anderson may not have cracked under further questioning, but maybe Tabitha Newman would. At the least, Meg and Connor wanted to hear her take on their relationship, not to mention the fact that she’d hid it from them.
The sleuths drove back over to Tabitha’s house and were greeted by complete silence as Connor knocked on the door. There was a chance she wasn’t home, although that was unlikely, given the fact that her car was in the driveway. Most likely, she was just avoiding them.
Connor wasn’t about to give up so soon. He knocked on the door again, this time being vocal in urging her to come out.
“Mrs. Newman, don’t make this harder than it already is. You can’t hide from the police. You’re going to have to answer these questions eventually, so you might as well do it now,” Connor said.
Again, he got no response. Meg could see the frustration on Connor’s face. This called for some drastic measures, and she knew just the action to take. Meg was just about to head around back and cast a spell that would draw Tabitha outside. She had a number of spells to pick from.
Suddenly, as she took her first few steps, she realized magic wouldn’t be necessary in this situation. Meg stopped when she heard the front door open.
Tabitha scowled in the doorway with frazzled hair and bloodshot eyes. Both Meg and Connor could smell alcohol on her breath as she addressed them.
“I don’t know what the big idea is, but I don’t appreciate you making all this racket,” Tabitha said.
Connor wrinkled his nose. “Have you been drinking?”
Tabitha’s speech was slurred as she replied. “It’s still a free country, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Connor replied.
“Good. If you haven’t noticed, it’s been a stressful time for me. I wanted a little something to take the edge off,” Tabitha said.
“Because you’re feeling guilty?” Meg asked.
Tabitha shot her a glare. “Because I just lost my husband.”
“A husband you were in the middle of a bitter divorce with,” Meg clarified.
“Is this why you came over here, to rehash the same stuff as earlier?” Tabitha asked.
“Actually, Mrs. Newman, new information has come to light. We know you and Owen Anderson have been dating,” Connor said.
Tabitha drunkenly flailed her arms in the air, dismissively. “So?”
Tabitha was acting like that nugget of information was no big deal, but Meg could see the stress lines on her face at the mere mention of Owen Anderson’s name.
“So, would you care to revise your story?” Meg asked.
“No. I already told you everything,” Tabitha replied.
“Actually, you didn’t. That’s the problem. Do you not see how suspicious it is, dating one of your estranged husband’s employees who failed to get a promotion?” Connor asked.
“You asked me where I was when my husband was killed. I told you I was here. Nothing else matters,” Tabitha countered.
“I disagree. By withholding the fact that you were dating Owen, it makes us wonder what else you might be withholding,” Connor said.
“Or, that you might be lying to us about your alibi. Who is to say you weren’t really with Owen last night?” Meg added.
Tabitha denied every word. “No, that’s not true.”
“You say that, but you two were dating, and you both had reasons to want Walter dead. What if you killed him together?” Meg speculated.
“Now you’re just making stuff up,” Tabitha snapped.
“You’re losing your temper there. Is this conversation hitting too close to the bone?” Meg asked.
“No. It’s just annoying me to no end. Now, I’ve answered all your questions and have nothing else to say to you,” Tabitha replied.
Meg knew Tabitha was trying to shut them down. She wanted to prevent that. Unfortunately, just as Meg opened her mouth to reply, Tabitha cut her off.
“This conversation is over.”
Connor stepped in. “Mrs. Newman, I’m a police detective. You can’t talk to us that way.”
She corrected him. “No, you’re a police detective without any evidence. Next time you want to talk to me, you’ll have to go through my lawyer first.”
Tabitha then closed the door, leaving Meg and Connor wildly frustrated.
Chapter Nineteen
At that moment, walking back to Connor’s car, a new reality sunk in. Things were different when they were in the middle of questioning a suspect. Their adrenaline was pumping, concealing just how tired they were. Now, their exhaustion caught up with them, hitting them like a sledgehammer.
That was the last thing they needed right now. To solve this case, they needed to be sharp. Anything less and they’d be doing the investigation a disservice. More importantly, they couldn’t afford to get sloppy. After all, they had to outsmart a killer, and no way would they be able to do that if they weren’t at their best.
“So, what now?” Connor asked.
Meg didn’t hesitate to let her aching muscles do the talking for her.
“A nice soak in a hot bathtub would do wonders right about now,” she replied.
That wasn’t exactly what Connor was going for. “I meant, about the case.”
“Honestly, my brain has decided to turn itself off.”
“Without even asking you, huh?”
Meg nodded.
“That takes a lot of nerve,” Connor added.
“Go figure. It has a mind of its own sometimes.”
Meg was known for her razor sharp wit. Puns were usually completely absent from her vocabulary. So, for such a corny joke to come out of her mouth was a clear sign of how tired she was.
“Wow, your jokes have taken a turn for the punny. It might be time for a break after all,” Connor replied.
“Don’t worry, with a little dinner and a whole
lot of rest, I’ll be back to my usual zingers in the morning.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
“How about you, are you heading back to the station to do a little follow up work?” Meg wondered.
“I’ll probably check in, but now that you mention it, I could use some downtime of my own to refresh and reboot,” Connor replied.
“Never underestimate the power of getting some good rest.”
“Trust me, I’m going to sleep like a baby tonight.”
“For a moment, I thought you were about to say you’d sleep like the dead,” Meg said.
Apparently, Meg was even more tired than she thought. She immediately regretted her last comment. Unfortunately, she couldn’t take it back.
“Wow, I guess this case is really catching up with me. All kinds of crazy things are coming out of my mouth suddenly,” she added.
“It’s probably best that I get you home then. I’m not sure I want to know what might come out of your mouth next.”
“I’ll just say this,” Meg replied.
Connor held his breath, not sure what to expect.
“Talk to you tomorrow,” she finished.
“Yeah. I’ll give you a call in the morning,” he replied.
“Hopefully, not as early as I called you this morning,” she said.
Connor’s eyes opened wide. “That would be nice. I’ll tell you what, I’ll at least wait until the sun comes up.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Connor then leaned forward and gave her a kiss.
“I love you,” he said.
“Love you too.”
Chapter Twenty
Meg was looking forward to a nice, quiet, relaxing evening followed by her head hitting the pillow. There was only one thing that could put a dent into that. It had four legs, a tail, and a sharp tongue. Penelope, her zinger-happy talking cat, had a penchant for waiting at the door, pleading for food like a starving pauper. Of course, she wasn’t, but that didn’t stop her from looking as put upon as possible.
Luckily, as Meg opened her front door, Penelope wasn’t there begging for food. That was both an odd and refreshing sight. Until she couldn’t find her cat at all, that was. It was then that a panic set in. Meg searched her weary mind. Had her cat gotten out? In a groggy haze, had she left the door open just long enough for Penelope to scoot by her?
Meg’s exhaustion got pushed aside in a hurry as adrenaline pumped through her veins. She went room to room frantically searching for her cat. Once she reached her bedroom, she spotted Penelope sitting safe and sound on the bed, taking a nice cat nap.
Meg felt foolish. She’d let panic get the best of her. That wasn’t like her. Yet, this case had clearly burrowed into her psyche. It was important for her to keep from getting rattled any further, despite the fact that a killer was still on the loose.
For the moment at least, she let her emotions speak for her, with relief all over her voice. “Penelope, there you are.”
Penelope slowly opened her eyes, perplexed over why Meg was making such a fuss. “Yeah. Where else would I be?”
“At the door hitting me up for food as you usually do.”
An old saying came to Meg’s mind right then about learning to expect the unexpected. That was especially true with the investigation of this case. She just didn’t know it would bleed over to her personal life as well. Yet, as she thought it over, every aspect of her day had gone differently than she expected.
Penelope had no interest in any of that. Her only concern was with being woken up from her joyous slumber. “Are you kidding? I don’t care about food right now. The only thing on my mind at this moment is catching up on my shut eye.”
“Shut eye? You’re a cat. You take ten naps a day,” Meg joked.
“Give me a break here. Do you have any idea how early I woke up this morning?”
“Uh, yeah. You’re the one who woke me up before the crack of dawn, remember?” Meg fired back.
Penelope took zero responsibility for her early morning antics. She quickly dismissed Meg’s point and moved on. “Details, details. The way I see it, right now, you should be apologizing to me.”
Meg was incredulous. “For what?”
“For interrupting my nap. Do you know how rude that is?”
Meg stood her ground. “Actually, yes.”
A moment passed as Meg waited for Penelope to catch her drift. Surprisingly, the irony of the fact that she’d woken Meg up so early this morning and was now complaining about being rousted from her nap was completely lost on Penelope.
After a few more moments of awkward silence went by, Meg gave up waiting for an apology of her own. “All right, I’ll let you get back to your nap then.”
Penelope had other ideas. “Well, now that I’m awake, I could go for some food.”
Meg rolled her eyes. At the same time, she happened to be hungry herself. So, as much as it set a bad example to cater to her cat’s demanding and unapologetic whims, it didn’t take her much more effort to cast two dinner spells instead of just one.
Meg caved in and entered the kitchen, whipping up the laziest dinner spells she could muster. Penelope made small talk while waiting for the spells to take effect.
“See, was that so hard?” Penelope asked.
Meg gave her a stink eye. “Don’t push your luck.”
“Wow, testy, testy. Tough day on the mean streets of Enchanted Bay?” she joked.
“Actually, yeah. Weren’t you listening when I told you Walter Newman was murdered last night?”
“Oh, dear. I was so groggy this morning; my mind was completely zonked out. I’m so sorry. How’s the case going?”
In another twist, here Penelope was, finally asking Meg about her day, and she inquired about the very topic Meg wanted to talk the least about.
“Don’t ask,” Meg replied.
“That good, huh?” Penelope quipped.
If Meg was going to get any distance from this case, the best course of action was to switch the subject. She knew Penelope loved talking about herself. Now was her chance to do just that.
“Let’s talk about you instead,” Meg said.
Penelope was never short on words before. So Meg was surprised by what she said.
“I’m afraid, I don’t have much to say.”
Meg grasped for straws. “Really? Nothing even vaguely interesting happened to you today?”
“Not really. I mean, I took a nap, nearly yakked up a hairball, made fun of Cindy Carlson’s dog chasing its tail for a while, took another nap, watched some daytime soap operas, and then settled in for a third nap. All in all, it was a pretty lazy day.”
“Right. What was I thinking? Your whole life is nothing but lazy days.”
“What, did you expect me to do some nuclear physics while you were gone or something?”
“No, it’s just that you usually have a funny anecdote or some kind of wacky story after peering out the window or watching TV.”
“Sorry. Today is a complete wash.”
Penelope then got quiet.
Meg waited for more words to come from her cat’s mouth, but was left hanging.
Finally, completely deflated, Meg sighed. “Oh.”
Penelope could see the disappointment on Meg’s face. She was just confused as to why.
“Are you ok?” the cat asked.
Meg wasn’t. She’d completely lost her bearings. This was usually the moment when Penelope said something random that triggered Meg to have a breakthrough in the case. Before she knew it, she’d have a lightbulb moment. Some random, stray comment would help Meg connect the dots.
It had occurred so frequently in the past that she’d grown accustomed to it. Maybe too much so. After all, it was random by nature, so for her to expect it to happen again went against the laws of logic.
At the same time, it was very frustrating. Now, at the exact moment she needed it the most, it was clear that no breakthrough was coming. Instead, she found herself just having a
very ordinary conversation with her talking cat. The more she thought it over, the more she had to laugh. How many people used ordinary conversation and talking cat in the same sentence? What a curiosity her life had become.
“Yeah, uh, I’ll be fine,” Meg replied.
Penelope narrowed her eyes, not believing that for a second.
“Why don’t you tell me what’s the matter?”
“It’s going to sound a little crazy.”
“That’s a good way to start a sentence, by the way,” Penelope joked.
Meg smiled and then got down to explaining herself. “It’s just that in the past, during the course of one of your rants or quirky stories, a nugget about the case usually comes to me that breaks everything wide open. Anyway, that didn’t happen this time.”
Penelope rolled her eyes. “That’s what you’re bent out of shape about?”
“I warned you it would sound crazy.”
“You were right. That’s bananas. I’m a cat, not a sleuth. What do you want from me?”
“Right now, I could go for a little less criticism. After that, a whole lot of rest,” Meg replied.
“It’s hard to criticize you when I have food in my mouth. Hint, hint.”
Meg finished up the dinner spell and gave Penelope plenty of food to keep her occupied. After chowing down herself, Meg zonked out in front of the TV, coming to terms with the fact that she’d be going to sleep with plenty of unanswered questions.
Chapter Twenty-One
If there was ever a night when Meg needed a full evening’s rest, it was tonight. So, naturally, for the second night in a row, her slumber was cut short again. It was shortly after five o’clock in the morning when she was pulled from her sleep. The moment she was awakened, she was quick to board the blame train, assuming her cat was the culprit.
In a groggy daze, her natural instinct was to blame Penelope. It was bad enough the cat had woken her up so early for food the day before. She’d warned her not to do it again.
“Are you going to answer that?” Penelope asked, grumpy.
Witch Cozy Mystery Nine Book Set Page 39
