The Witches Of Enchanted Bay Seven Book Cozy Mystery Series Bundle Page 6

  The interview with Vanessa may have started on a much more pleasant note, but it ended just as contentious as ever. Although Vanessa looked mighty suspicious, without hard evidence, there wasn’t much Meg and Connor could do but move on to the next suspect.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The next logical suspect to question was Daphne Scott. Not only had Vanessa McMillan pointed the finger of blame at her, but she also happened to be Ethan Wakefield’s newly unemployed ex-wife. This should make for an interesting interview.

  Just then, Connor got a call that sent the investigation in an entirely different direction. When Connor finished his call, he entered the squad car with a smile on his face.

  “You won’t believe what just happened,” Connor said.

  “Let’s hear it,” Meg replied.

  Connor turned on the car, then started driving to the police station while he explained the situation to Meg.

  “Apparently, Owen Goodman was trying to skip town,” Connor revealed.

  “The director of the musical?” Meg asked.

  Connor nodded.

  Meg forgot to point out that he was the recently unemployed director of “Enchanted Nights” that had been the first and only director during the musical’s multi-decade run. He’d spent most of his professional life at that theater helming that show. Then, in one night, it was all taken from him.

  “How do you know he was skipping town?” Meg wondered.

  “My deputy pulled him over on the outskirts of town because he blew through a stop sign. As my deputy was getting ready to write out the ticket, he noticed that Owen’s car was packed to the gills.”

  “Now that screams suspicion.”

  “Tell me about it. Knowing that Owen was a suspect in our conversation, my deputy brought Owen back to the station for questioning.”

  “Talk about a stroke of good luck. If Owen hadn’t had blown through that stop sign, he could be halfway to San Francisco before anyone noticed.”

  “You’d be amazed how many serious criminals get caught because of minor traffic violations.”

  “The question becomes, is Owen Goodman a serious criminal, or just a guy that blew through one stop sign?” Meg asked.

  “We’re about to find out,” Connor replied.

  ***

  Meg found herself in a unique situation all of a sudden. All the interviewing of suspects she’d ever done had been in public. Not this time. Suddenly, she found herself in a police interrogation room. It had a one-way mirror and everything. Talk about intimidating. And she wasn’t even a suspect in this case.

  She couldn’t even imagine how Owen Goodman was feeling right now. Owen was a rotund, pear-shaped man in his early fifties with a wardrobe that looked straight out of a Broadway show. His personal style seemed to be “the more flamboyant, the better.”

  Connor got right down to business. “Why were you trying to skip town?”

  Owen played dumb. “I don’t understand what’s going on here. I just went through a stop sign.”

  Connor stared him down. “I know you’re not that stupid, so stop trying to pretend you are. This is about the murder of Ethan Wakefield.”

  Owen got a panicked look on his face. “I didn’t have anything to do with that.”

  “That’s what we’re here to find out. Now, why were you so desperate to skip town?” Connor asked.

  Owen folded his arms. “I wasn’t.”

  “Do you really expect me to believe you weren’t running when my officer caught you leaving town with all your belongings packed into the back of your car the day after a murder?” Connor replied.

  Owen grimaced and then explained himself. “I wasn’t leaving town because of the murder. I was doing it because I have no reason to stay here anymore.”

  “Because you’re out of a job?” Meg asked.

  Owen reluctantly nodded.

  “So you’re saying it’s just a coincidence that the person who put you out of a job just happened to be murdered the night before you decided to leave town?” Meg continued.

  “I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s just a horrible coincidence.”

  “You’re right. It’s impossible to believe.”

  Owen got desperate. “This is a small town, and I’m a theater director. If I’m ever going to get a gig again, it’s not going to be here.”

  “I understand that, but what’s the rush? You just lost your job last night,” Meg reasoned.

  “I have a meeting with Joe Stanwick. He’s a big theater producer in San Francisco.”

  “That’s easy enough to verify.” Connor stood up and headed towards the door. “I’m going to get Mr. Stanwick on the phone. Let’s see what he has to say about this.”

  Owen completely panicked. He held his hand out and stammered his reply. “Wait. He doesn’t know I’m coming.”

  Connor turned around. “I don’t understand how that’s possible if you have a meeting scheduled.”

  Owen tried to pull out some verbal gymnastics. “I meant, I was going to drop in to see Stanwick. There’s no official meeting on the books.”

  Connor turned to Meg. “It’s interesting how quickly things changed, isn’t it?”

  “I’ll say.” Meg then focused on Owen again. “The question is, will any other part of your story change? Are you still going to pretend that you weren’t just trying to skip town?”

  Owen got short with her. “I already told you; there’s nothing left for me in this town.”

  “I’m not so sure about that. Depending on how this case shakes out, you may be spending an indefinite amount of time in Enchanted Bay. Now, where were you last night between eleven and midnight?” Connor asked.

  “I was at home,” Owen replied.

  “Were you with anyone?”

  Owen shook his head. “No. I went to bed early knowing I had a lot of packing to do to hit the road for San Francisco today.”

  “Except, if you were alone, that means you have no one to verify your story,” Connor said.

  Owen got desperation in his voice. “I already told you, I was at home at the time of the murder.”

  Meg cut in. “You also told us you had a meeting with Joe Stanwick, and that was patently false.”

  “Why should we believe you now?” Connor added.

  Owen completely shut down. “I’m not saying another word to you without a lawyer present.”

  Those were the words neither Connor nor Meg wanted to hear. There wasn’t any hard evidence on Owen. The most the detective could do was hold him for seventy-two hours, hoping he’d start singing like a jailbird. Ultimately, without a break in the case, Owen would get out on bail. Besides, Connor and Meg weren’t convinced he was really the killer. They just couldn’t rule him out.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Connor decided to let it ride and hold Owen Goodman in custody for seventy-two hours. If Owen was the killer, he might crack while behind bars. If not, he’d be free in a few days. In the meantime, they had other suspects to question.

  Before Owen decided to try and skip town, Meg and Connor were heading over to Daphne Scott’s place after Vanessa McMillan had pointed the finger of blame at her. The sleuths decided to follow up on that lead now.

  Unfortunately, they had no luck when they reached Daphne’s house. Her car wasn’t in the driveway, so things didn’t look good for her being home. After five minutes of unsuccessful knocking, it was clear she was elsewhere.

  There were a number of perks to Meg investigating this case with the detective. This wasn’t one of them. If she were alone, she would have cast a locator spell right then and there. With Connor by her side, there was no way she could do that without him catching on to her magical powers.

  As he grew tired of standing at Daphne’s door, Connor’s attention then turned to the other suspects. There were plenty of them. Their time was better spent moving on to the next person on their list. At the same time, the detective didn’t want to miss talking to Daphne when she came home. Connor ca
lled one of his deputies to keep watch of the house for her return while he and Meg moved on to question the next suspect.

  ***

  Nate McMillan, the former owner of the Enchanted Theater, lived closer to Daphne than any of the other suspects. Even though their houses were only a few blocks apart, they couldn’t have looked more different. Daphne lived in a single level ranch-style house. Nate had a three story baby blue Victorian house with a wraparound porch.

  Meg could have admired the architecture all day, but there were more pressing issues at hand. After a few knocks, Nate came to the door and opened it reluctantly. Unlike when they questioned his daughter, Vanessa McMillan, Nate gave them no welcoming grin nor invitation for drinks. As a matter of fact, he looked as tight-lipped as ever.

  Nate was a rail-thin man in his late seventies who was clinging to the last patch of gray hair he had on his head. His argyle sweater and green, corduroy pants made him look like a burnt out community college professor. There were no signs that he had the wealth to own a theater. Meg respected the fact that he was discreet about his money rather than flaunting it.

  Connor flashed his badge. “Nate McMillan, I’m detective Connor Smith. I have to ask you a few questions. Can we come in?”

  Nate stood his ground, not budging an inch. “You can ask your questions from out there.”

  “Ok. Where were you last night between eleven and midnight?” Connor asked.

  Nate didn’t answer. He instead fired back with a question of his own. “You want to know if I murdered Ethan Wakefield, don’t you?”

  “Mr. McMillan, I’m the one asking the questions here. Now, where were you?”

  Once again, Nate followed his own agenda. “I don’t appreciate you going around town, accusing both my daughter and me of murder.”

  “We haven’t accused anyone of anything. We’re just looking to find out the truth. To do that, we’re going to need you to answer our questions,” Meg said.

  “My family had nothing to do with that dirt bag’s murder,” Nate insisted.

  “It’s funny that you’d say you had nothing to do with Ethan’s death, yet you’re very candid about the fact that you hated him,” Meg said.

  “I’m too old to pretend a scumbag is anything but a scumbag.”

  “Mr. McMillan, you do realize you’re spelling out a motive for murder, right?” Connor explained.

  Nate narrowed his eyes. “If I killed all the people I hated, this town would have a much smaller population than it does now. The thing is, motive doesn’t always equal murder.”

  “Are you saying you didn’t kill Ethan Wakefield?” Meg asked.

  “Of course I didn’t. You think a grease ball like that is worth going to jail over?” Nate snapped.

  Connor played devil’s advocate. “People do crazy things in the heat of the moment. You sold the theater you’d owned for decades under the strict condition that he’d keep your daughter’s play running, and then Ethan turned around and betrayed his word. That would set almost anyone off.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy he’s dead. I just wasn’t the one that gave him that dirt nap,” Nate said.

  Connor then circled back around again. “You still haven’t answered my question. Where were you last night between eleven and midnight?”

  “I’m seventy-six years old. Where do you think I was? In bed,” Nate barked.

  “Do you have anyone to verify that?” Meg asked.

  “Unlike sleaze balls that go back on their word, I mean what I say. My word means something, and I’m telling you, I was in bed. You can stake your life on it,” Nate declared.

  “Unfortunately, an alibi doesn’t mean anything unless it can be verified,” Connor explained.

  Nate was hardly cheery to begin with, but he went full grump suddenly. “I don’t have anything else to say to you, and you don’t have enough to arrest me, so get off my porch.”

  Apparently, both members of the McMillan family had short tempers. Since Meg and Connor clearly weren’t going to get any further information from Nate, they decided to turn their attention to the next suspect on the list.

  Chapter Nineteen

  After their interview with Nate McMillan didn’t yield the results they wanted, Connor and Meg decided to take a break from the investigation. Their stomachs didn’t give them much of a choice. Blood sugar crashes were not something that could easily be shrugged off, nor should they. They needed their minds to be as sharp as possible at a time like this. That meant one thing; it was time to get some brain food.

  There was nowhere in town better to do that than at Al’s Diner. Al’s was a no-frills joint. Connor and Meg didn’t care. They weren’t there for the atmosphere. It was comfort food they craved, and Al’s had plenty of it. Pot pies, casseroles, mashed potatoes, grilled cheese; if it clogged arteries and torpedoed diets, it was on the menu.

  Meg didn’t even have to look at the menu. She always went with the chicken pot pie. It never failed to hit the spot. Connor was given the menu far more attention. He was actually staring at it like it was going to show him the meaning of life. It didn’t take the mind of a crack sleuth to know Connor had more on his mind than choosing between a casserole and a double cheeseburger.

  He was staring at that menu so intensely that he wouldn’t even notice if Meg jumped in his squad car and took it out for a joyride. Not that she’d ever do something like that. She was a law-abiding citizen. It was just crazy to think Connor was so oblivious to his surroundings because he was focused on a diner menu.

  She tried to lighten the mood with a joke. “I’ve seen chess players make quicker decisions than you. Just pick something. You can’t get a bad meal at Al’s.”

  That was enough to pull him out of his daze. He looked up from the menu but didn’t laugh.

  “Sorry. I just have a lot on my mind,” Connor replied.

  She nodded. “Yeah, this case is a doozy. Would it kill these suspects to not look guilty?”

  “I actually wasn’t thinking about the case.”

  “All right. You’ve stumped me. What’s going on in that noggin of yours?”

  “I was just thinking about how nothing ever stays the same. I mean, no matter what you do, you can’t stop the world from changing.”

  Meg couldn’t help but laugh.

  Connor furrowed his brow. “What’s so funny?”

  “Well, normally, that’s true. Except, you happen to be sitting in one of the few places that never changes,” she explained.

  “That’s where you’re wrong.”

  Meg was taken off guard. “What are you talking about?”

  He pointed to the menu. “I guess you didn’t see the new vegetarian section.”

  “I never look at the menu. I just order the pot pie and start salivating.” She did a double take. “Wait a minute, did you just say vegetarian?”

  He nodded. “That’s not all. There are vegan and gluten-free options, too.”

  Her eyes opened wide. “This is still Al’s, isn’t it?”

  “That’s what I was wondering. But even Al Gordon, a man who has kept his place unchanged for over fifty years, couldn’t resist change.”

  She shook her head. “That’s crazy.”

  He corrected her. “No, that’s just life. Everything changes.”

  Meg couldn’t help but see how discouraged Connor looked.

  “Connor, why don’t you come clean? I know this is about more than new vegan options on a diner menu.”

  Connor took a deep breath, then laid his feelings out on the counter.

  “When I left the city, I could have gone anywhere. I came back to Enchanted Bay because it had always been quiet, quaint, and safe. It was the perfect place to live a simple life. Now look, there have already been two murders since I returned.”

  “Don’t worry. We’re going to crack this sucker.”

  “I don’t doubt that. I was more bemoaning the fact that there is a case to crack. This town is changing in some disturbing ways.�
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  “Vegan options included,” she joked.

  He laughed.

  “Sorry. I couldn’t resist,” Meg said.

  He fired back. “I thought a vegan meal was something you had no trouble resisting.”

  “So true. Look, you know the saying, the only constant in life is change.”

  “Don’t forget taxes. Those are a constant pain in my behind.”

  Meg didn’t like the government taking so much of her money either, but she knew Connor’s distaste ran deeper. His last girlfriend left him for a tax auditor. He’d certainly never look at tax season the same again.

  “You probably could have come up with a better example of something that never changes,” she pointed out.

  “You, for example,” Connor said.

  “Me?”

  He nodded. “You’re the same as ever.”

  Meg approached her next question with caution. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

  Connor smiled. “Very good.”

  She gazed back at him.

  He continued. “You always know how to make me feel better.”

  “Although to be fair, I’m not a hundred percent the same person as when you left town.”

  “You mean because you’ve stubbornly taken up amateur sleuthing?”

  “I meant because I’m in a good relationship for once. But yeah, the sleuthing is a new twist, too.”

  “It makes you wonder what else could change about you, me, or Liz Donnelly for that matter. The fact is, you don’t know what someone is capable of until they’ve been pushed to the brink.”

  “After the way the other suspects have behaved so far, you really still think Liz could have done this?”

  “That’s the point I’ve been trying to make. A couple months ago, I never thought there could ever be a murder in Enchanted Bay. A couple minutes ago, I never thought I’d see a vegan entrée on Al’s menu. Yes, I’ve never thought it would be possible for Liz to murder anyone. At the same time, I seem to keep getting proven wrong.”