Witch Cozy Mystery Nine Book Set

by Amelia Morgan

  “Right. What I meant to say was that he had just left my place.”

  Meg took that opportunity to pounce. “You sure revised your story in a hurry.”

  “I’m not great with times,” Fiona said.

  Fiona clearly thought that would be enough to get the investigators off of her back. She was sorely mistaken.

  Connor went right at her again. “That may be so. Then again, you might just be trying to put one over on us.”

  Fiona vehemently denied that accusation. “No. It was a simple mistake.”

  “Let’s say I believe you. Are you telling us you were at your apartment at the time of the murder?”

  “Yes.”

  “There’s just one problem with your story,” Meg said.

  Fiona shrugged her shoulders. “What’s that?”

  “With your boyfriend driving home during the ten o’clock hour, it means you have no one to verify your true whereabouts for the time of the murder.”

  Fiona became increasingly frustrated. “I just told you I was at my apartment.”

  “I know what you told me, but that doesn’t mean I believe you.”

  Fiona snarled at Meg. “It’s not my fault if you’re not willing to accept the truth.”

  Meg made her stance on the issue very clear. “I would love to believe you, but you need to give me a reason to.”

  Fiona shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know what else you want from me. I have told you everything I know.”

  The investigators were not convinced of that. Meg and Connor continued peppering Fiona with questions, in hopes of getting her to reveal some incriminating information.

  That did not end up happening. Fiona held firm, not wavering in the least. Soon it became apparent that the investigators were wasting their time in pressing her further.

  With one more suspect left to question, Meg and Connor cut their losses and headed over to Neil Dotson’s place, desperate to make some headway.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Richard Dotson’s youngest son lived in a second-floor, low-rent apartment that happened to be situated directly above a bar. To Meg, that seemed like a miserable place to call home. Then again, alcohol was only a minor acquaintance in her life. She had a hunch that Neil Dotson viewed the apartment’s proximity to the local dive bar as a selling point rather than as a detriment.

  If Neil ever decided to answer his front door, she would ask him that question. Unfortunately, it did not seem like she would get an answer anytime soon. Meg knocked on Neil’s wooden front door, with no response. As she rang the doorbell, she could see that Connor’s patience was fading.

  Before Connor got an itch to grab his police radio and call in an all-points bulletin on Neil, Meg suggested that they pop into the bar in case Neil was knocking back some beers. Meg’s instincts proved to be right. The minute the sleuths entered the dive bar, they spotted Neil chugging back a cold one.

  To be fair, Neil wasn’t exactly difficult to spot. The bar was practically a ghost town. That was far from surprising, for a number of reasons. To start, it was the middle of the afternoon on a weekday. It was hardly the prime time to have a packed house. Next, the bar was not exactly an appetizing joint. The place was a wreck, with paint peeling off of the walls, flickering lights, and wobbly barstools scattered throughout the bar.

  On the rare occasions that Meg did go out for a drink, this was the last place she would ever set foot in. It did not give out a welcoming vibe to women. Meg clearly wasn’t the only one who felt this way. There wasn’t a single woman in the place other than Meg.

  While Meg couldn’t wait to question Neil and get out of there, Neil looked right at home as he was bellied up to the bar. The six-foot-two, goateed thirty-one-year-old had a muscular body and greasy black hair that looked like it hadn’t been washed in a few days. He wore a pair of ripped jeans and an old green T-shirt. Even more pronounced was the defeated look on his face. This was a man who was in no mood to talk to anyone.

  Neil’s craving to be left alone did nothing to deter Connor from walking right up to him, armed with a deadpan quip.

  “Isn’t it a little early to be at the bar?” Connor asked.

  Neil kept his focus squarely on the pint glass that was in front of him. He slurred his words as he gave a pessimistic response. “On a day like this, it’s never too early.”

  Connor pointed at Neil’s glass. “How many of those have you had?”

  “That’s none of your business. It’s not illegal to have a few drinks.”

  “Why are you so defensive?” Connor asked.

  Neil finally turned to Connor and lashed out at him. “Who do you think you are coming in here and getting on my case when I’m in the middle of mourning?”

  Connor held up his police badge and tried to calm him down. “I assure you, I take no joy in approaching you at such a difficult time, but I have a case to investigate.”

  Neil shrugged his shoulders. “What does your case have to do with me?”

  “I’m afraid I have to ask you some questions.”

  Neil’s focus shifted to Meg as he gave her a quizzical look.

  “Meg? What are you doing here?” Neil asked.

  Between the grief and the alcohol that was in Neil’s system, Meg had been wondering if he would even recognize her. Add to that the fact that Meg and Neil had seen very little of each other in the last few years.

  That was by design. Neil was the type of man who couldn’t seem to get out of his own way. More importantly, as he fumbled his way to new lows, he had a way of dragging other people down with him. He had such a knack for finding trouble that his own father had fired him for showing up drunk to work too often. Not that Richard hadn’t given Neil a number of chances. In some people’s eyes, he had given his son far too many chances. After Richard had fired Neil, their relationship deteriorated at an increasingly frantic pace.

  As for Meg, even before Neil’s life began spiraling downward, she had never really gotten along that well with him. Their lives always seemed to be going in drastically different directions, leaving them with little or nothing to talk about through the years. Given their distant history and general lack of common ground, Meg had no difficulty treating Neil like any other murder suspect.

  “Like Detective Smith said, we’re trying to find out who killed your father,” Meg replied.

  Neil still didn’t appear to grasp why Connor and Meg had come to him. He was quick to turn the spotlight on his brother, however. “Have you talked to Trevor yet?”

  It wasn’t uncommon for suspects to point the finger of blame at each other, but rarely did it happen so fast during an interview, especially when it concerned fellow family members.

  Meg nodded. “We talked to Trevor.”

  Neil waited for Meg to elaborate. When she didn’t, he tried to get a response out of her. “And?”

  A blank expression came to Meg’s face. “And what?”

  “Do I have to spell it out for you? Trevor wanted my father’s money so much that he would do anything to get it.”

  “Are you accusing your brother of murder?”

  “The man is practically drenched in guilt,” Neil said.

  “That’s a deadly serious accusation to make. Do you have any proof to back up what you’re saying?” Meg asked.

  “Sometimes you just feel it in your gut. If I had to place a bet on who killed my father, I’d put all my money down on Trevor.”

  Neil didn’t seem to realize that he had given the investigators the perfect opening.

  Connor was first to seize the moment. “From what we hear, that’s not the only bet you have placed recently.”

  Neil got a steely look in his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re a gambling man, aren’t you?” Connor asked.

  Neil snarled. “Trevor threw me under the bus, didn’t he?”

  Connor turned the tables on him. “You are spending all this time focusing on your brother, but the person you should
be worried about the most right now is yourself.”

  Neil remained caught up in his rage for his brother. “I didn’t hear a denial in there. Trevor badmouthed me, didn’t he?”

  Connor stayed on his point. “The word on the street is that you recently hit your father up for a big chunk of cash.”

  Neil scoffed. “Word on the street? What you mean is that Trevor ratted me out.”

  Connor tried to make some headway. “Neil, forget about your brother. We’re talking to you right now.”

  Neil lashed out again. “You can’t listen to anything that Trevor said—”

  Connor had heard enough sibling bashing. He wanted an answer to his question. “Are you saying that you didn’t ask your father for money?”

  “What I’m saying is that I don’t understand what this has to do with anything.”

  “Why don’t you just answer the question?” Connor replied. “Unless you have something to hide.”

  Neil folded his arms. “This is crazy.”

  “Every time you don’t answer one of my questions, it makes you look worse.”

  Neil broke down. “Yes. I asked my dad for some money.”

  Connor looked so relieved to finally be getting somewhere. “Did he give it to you?”

  Neil shook his head.

  “That must have put you in a tough spot.”

  “Not in a tough enough spot to kill him.”

  Connor fired right back. “That’s what you say.”

  “No, that’s the truth.”

  “Since we’re on the topic of the truth, I heard that you needed the money to pay off a gambling debt.”

  “It doesn’t matter what the money was for,” Neil replied.

  “If it doesn’t matter, then why are you being so evasive?” Connor asked.

  Neil went quiet. His face tensed up as he took another sip of his beer.

  Connor tried to fill in the blanks. “I think you got in over your head. You were desperate for money. That’s why you turned to your father, a man who had fired you from his restaurant and who no longer wanted anything to do with you. But you had no choice but to ask him for the money. He represented the last chance to pay off your debt. So when he turned you down, it must have been devastating.”

  Neil narrowed his eyes. “I don’t like where you’re going with this.”

  Connor wasn’t the least bit intimidated. “And I don’t like how you can’t seem to answer a few simple questions. If you don’t want us to suspect you, then you shouldn’t look so suspicious. Now the fact is that desperate people do desperate things—”

  “Are you accusing me of murder?” Neil asked.

  “Right now, I’m just saying that things don’t look good for you,” Connor replied.

  “Looks can be deceiving.”

  “They can be, but are they in this case?”

  “I didn’t kill my father,” Neil said.

  “You certainly had reason to. With your dad out of the picture, you would get your portion of your much-needed inheritance.”

  Neil scowled as he shook his head side to side. “You should be ashamed of yourself. I just lost my father. How dare you talk to me this way?”

  “There you go, deflecting once again,” Connor replied.

  “Why don’t you just leave me alone to drink in peace?”

  “We will—”

  “Good,” Neil said.

  “I just want you to answer one question first.”

  Neil groaned, his patience having been completely exhausted. But knowing that he couldn’t just get rid of the investigators, he yielded to the detective’s request.

  “What’s the question?” Neil replied.

  “Where were you last night between ten and eleven o’clock?” Connor asked.

  “I was here.”

  Connor looked around the bar. He spotted two security cameras in the corner.

  “Are you sure about that?” Connor asked.

  “That’s what I just told you.”

  “So if I get the owner to show me the security footage last night from those cameras, I’ll see you on the tape?”

  Neil tensed up.

  Meg had been content to let Connor take the lead until that point. She inserted herself back into the conversation.

  “Care to revise your story?” Meg said.

  Neil’s alibi suddenly changed. “Okay. So I might have gone back up to my apartment by then.”

  “Alone?” Meg replied.

  “I didn’t kill my father,” Neil snapped.

  “That wasn’t what I asked,” Meg said. “Judging by how bent out of shape you are getting, I take it that you have no one to verify your alibi.”

  “I just told you that I didn’t kill my dad.”

  “It would be a lot easier to believe that if you had someone to confirm your story,” Meg said.

  Neil got up from the bar. “That’s it. I’m done.”

  Connor held his arm out and stopped Neil from leaving. “I say when we’re done.”

  “Take your hands off of me,” Neil barked.

  “Why don’t you just calm down and take it easy?”

  Neil fired back. “Why don’t you just back off?”

  “We just have a few more questions for you.”

  Neil shut down. “Save your breath. I don’t have anything else to say to you.”

  It was a bold statement to make, but Neil held true to his word. Connor and Meg peppered him with more questions, but Neil remained quiet. Unfortunately, with plenty of suspicions to go around but no tangible evidence pinning Neil to the crime, Connor was left with a difficult decision to make. After mulling his options, the detective let Neil go on his way, but not without warning him not to leave town first.

  Chapter Fifteen

  After a full day of suspect interviews, the sleuths were exhausted and fresh out of leads. With the investigation hitting a roadblock, Meg and Connor decided that a break was in order. Connor headed to the police station to see if the crime lab had been able to uncover anything new that was of use while Meg went back to her place to decompress.

  As Meg entered her house, there was no telling if peace and quiet were waiting for her or whether her talking cat was in a particularly demanding mood. Thankfully, Penelope was noticeably absent of sass that evening. That was probably because the TV had been keeping her company.

  “Should I even ask you how your day was, or is it safe to assume that it went poorly?” Penelope asked.

  “Let’s just say it could have gone better,” Meg replied.

  “Does that mean the killer is still on the loose?”

  Meg sighed. “For now.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “So am I. This case is a mess. The only thing worse than a handful of suspects is when they are all at each other’s throats.”

  “There’s no drama quite like family drama, huh?” Penelope cracked.

  Meg corrected her. “No drama more frustrating you mean.”

  “It’s a good thing our family doesn’t believe in drama, right?” Penelope deadpanned.

  Meg replied with a joke of her own. “No. Our family is completely normal.”

  “To be fair, what family wouldn’t want a talking cat?”

  Meg nodded. “You’re right.”

  “See. Normal is overrated.”

  Meg got caught up thinking about her day again. “Then again, so is drama. I’m so ready to zonk out in front of the TV.”

  Penelope was not so optimistic about that happening. “I don’t know how easy that will be.”

  Meg looked at the TV. “Why? Is there nothing good on?”

  “As far as I can tell, the only thing that is on is news.”

  Meg became deflated. “That’s generally not a good sign.”

  “Especially tonight.”

  “Uh-oh. What’s the matter?”

  “Let’s just say that it’s a good day to be a cat,” Penelope replied.

  “Is it ever a bad day to be a cat?”

  “
No. But the story I just saw on the news, it’s not the best day to be a human being living in Enchanted Bay.”

  Curiosity came to Meg’s face. “Why? What was the story about?”

  “Apparently, the city has decided that people don’t care about privacy anymore. They have been installing cameras all over town. On Main Street, in the town square, at traffic lights. We are being watched whether we like it or not.”

  Meg fell silent as she got lost in thought.

  Penelope’s sassy streak continued. “Crazy stuff, huh? Then again, who needs privacy anyway, right?”

  Meg bit the corner of her lip. “Actually, this could be a big help.”

  Penelope was confused. “What are you talking about?”

  Inspiration came to Meg’s face. “I can think of one instance where those cameras could be a very good thing.”

  “Have you lost your mind?”

  Meg shook her head. “No. I actually think you just gave me the lead I have been looking for.”

  Meg darted back towards her front door.

  Penelope could not make heads nor tails of Meg’s behavior. “Where are you going? You just got home.”

  Meg tried to fill Penelope in. “I have a hunch about who killed Richard. Even more, I think I know how to get the proof I need to bring the killer to justice.”

  “In that case, good luck,” Penelope replied. “If you need me, I’ll be taking a catnap.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Upon further investigation of Meg’s hunch, her suspicions were confirmed. The next day, Connor and Meg drove over to Vintage Vinny’s, the record store where Trevor worked. Not surprisingly, Trevor didn’t look happy to see them.

  “What are you doing here?” Trevor asked.

  Connor wanted to get Trevor alone. “I think it’s time you take your break.”

  Trevor shot the detective a glare. “I think it’s time you leave.”

  Connor folded his arms. “Trevor, you’re not going to avoid talking to us. You only have two choices here. You can either come outside with us, or answer our questions right here in the middle of the store. It’s your call.”