Meg nudged her head across the street. “Better than they do?”
Delilah didn’t want to come off as too hostile. That kind of behavior could scare off a potential client. “Rock bottom prices can also mean rock bottom service.”
“They don’t seem to mind, so why should I?” Meg replied.
“We may be a little more expensive up front, but trust me, we’ll save you more money on the backend.”
“I believe it.” Meg then looked across the street again at All Accounted For. “Unfortunately, it looks like no one else does. It must be tough, seeing some cut-rate competitor swoop into town and scoop up all your business like this.”
Meg was pushing all the right buttons, but so far, Delilah had managed to keep her emotions mostly in check.
“Business is a long-term game. As someone whose job it is to run the numbers, I know you can only undercut your competition so long before it catches up to you.”
A different side of Delilah was coming out now. It was cutthroat and competitive.
Meg encouraged that sharkish aspect of her to take a swim. “How so?”
“They may be taking our business, but they aren’t making a profit. That’ll come back to bite them; you’ll see.”
“Uh huh.”
As Meg stared into Delilah’s eyes, she saw a killer instinct. Meg suddenly had her right where she wanted her, Delilah just didn’t realize it.
“So, did I change your mind?” Delilah asked.
“Actually, there’s something else we need to talk to you about,” Meg said.
“What is it?” Delilah wondered.
“We have to ask you a few questions about your mother,” Meg continued.
Delilah folded her arms. “I don’t know what this is about, but my relationship with my mother is none of your business.”
Up until then, Connor had been content to let Meg lead the charge. Finally, he stepped in and pulled out his police badge. “Actually, it is. Connor Smith, Enchanted Bay Police Department.”
Delilah tensed up. “What’s this about?”
“Like I said, we need to ask you a few questions. You and your mother didn’t get along terribly well, did you?” Meg asked.
“I still don’t understand why I’m being questioned. What do the police care about my relationship with my mother?” Delilah replied.
“Ms. Riddle, we’re the ones asking the questions here,” Connor said.
Delilah corrected him. “It’s Ms. Ferrell, and did something happen to my mother?”
Meg couldn’t help but notice how quick Delilah was to point out that she was a Ferrell, not a Riddle.
“Your mother was murdered,” Meg revealed.
Meg was curious to see Delilah’s reaction to the news. As expected, Delilah did not break out into full waterworks, but she did express at least a little grief. That was only part of the equation to Meg. To her, the amount of grief wasn’t nearly as important as the level of shock on Delilah’s face, or lack thereof. If she wasn’t floored by the news, it would be pretty telling that she already knew about her mom’s death.
“Murdered? Wait, but no. That doesn’t make any sense,” Delilah replied.
There was no denying the shock on her face, but was it genuine or manufactured?
Meg pressed on. “That’s not all.”
“Isn’t that enough? What else could there be?”
“An eyewitness placed you at your mother’s house shortly before she was killed.”
“I’m her daughter. There’s nothing wrong with having a conversation with my own mother,” Delilah replied.
Connor jumped in. “Ms. Ferrell, we know you two were estranged.”
“It’s never too late to try and reconnect,” Delilah argued.
“No, but you have to admit, the timing is pretty peculiar that you’d try and reconnect the exact night your mother was murdered,” Connor explained.
Meg piled on. “Were you able to reconnect with her, or was the reunion a stunning failure?”
“I don’t like what you’re implying here. Are you accusing me of murder?” Delilah asked.
“We’re not accusing you of anything. We just want to know what happened last night,” Connor said.
“What was your conversation about?” Meg added.
Delilah tried to change the subject. “Who is this witness that’s trying to throw me under the bus?”
“Ms. Ferrell, answer the question,” Connor demanded.
“This is ridiculous. I didn’t kill her,” Delilah replied.
“That’s what everyone says. There’s one way to know for sure. Where were you were between eleven and midnight?” Meg asked.
“I was at home,” Delilah answered.
“Were you alone, or do you have anyone who can verify that?” Meg said.
“I was taking a bath, all right?” Delilah replied.
“At least that’s your story. But, you have no one to verify it,” Connor said.
Delilah switched gears again. She was desperate to change the subject now. “It was Brooke Galloway, wasn’t it? Your eye witness.”
Meg wasn’t going to let herself get derailed. “That’s not important right now. We’re talking about you.”
“We should be talking about Brooke instead. Talk about someone who really hated my mother. Brooke has had it out for her from the minute she found out my mom was sleeping with her husband,” Delilah said.
Talk about a bombshell. That was a game-changer.
Meg wanted to clarify things just to make sure she’d heard that right. “Wait a minute. Are you saying your mother and David Galloway were having an affair?”
Delilah nodded. “She didn’t tell you that part, did she? Why else do you think Brooke put such an abrupt end to their twenty-year friendship?”
“Who knows about this?” Meg asked.
“This is a small town. I thought everyone knew. My mother really knew how to bungle things up. For a moment, it almost made me feel bad for Andrew Riddle…almost,” Delilah said.
With Meg all wrapped up in the news of the affair, she lost sight of one key point.
Connor didn’t. “You never did answer our question.”
“Haven’t I made it clear enough already? You’re talking to the wrong person,” Delilah said.
“We’ll be the judge of that. Now, what did you and your mother talk about last night?” Connor replied.
Delilah sighed. “I don’t know why you’re wasting your time talking to me anymore--”
“Just answer the question,” Connor demanded.
“I went over there to ask for a loan.”
“For what?”
“To keep this business solvent. If you haven’t noticed, we’re not exactly killing it at the moment. With a little cash injection, though, we’d be able to ride out this temporary storm we’re going through,” Delilah explained.
“Did your mother give you the loan?” Meg asked.
Delilah shook her head. “She told me she couldn’t.”
“Why not?” Meg replied.
“Because she was having money problems of her own.”
“Did she say what kind? Was it about her divorce, the metaphysical shop--?”
“She wasn’t specific,” Delilah said.
“Now is the time we need specifics the most,” Meg replied.
Delilah shut her down. “Well, I don’t have any, just as I don’t have anything else to say to you, except that I didn’t do this.”
“Do what?” Max Ferrell asked.
Everyone whirled around to see Max Ferrell entering the front door with a bag of takeout food in his hand. Not only was he Delilah’s father, but he was also Hope Riddle’s first husband. That put him on Meg and Connor’s list of suspects as well. It was rare that an opportunity fell into Meg’s lap so easily like this. She wouldn’t let it slip away.
“Maybe your father has something to say to us,” Meg said.
Chapter Sixteen
Meg and Connor took Max Ferrell o
utside, where they could question him without interference from his daughter. Max was a heavy set man in his mid-fifties with a receding hairline, black-rimmed glasses, and a round face. He had a to-go sack from Al’s Diner that immediately got the attention of Meg’s stomach.
Max looked very jittery being around a homicide detective. He looked like he was a man with something to hide. That discomfort continued as Connor revealed the bad news. Ironically, of all the suspects they’d interviewed, Max ended up having the most extreme reaction to finding out about Hope’s death. His eyes teared up immediately. He looked completely crestfallen.
“That’s so awful. How could someone have done something so terrible?” Max asked.
Meg couldn’t get over how broken up he was by the news, given that he was Hope’s ex-husband and the fact that their marriage had dissolved years before. Then again, it had been Hope’s decision to leave Max. Meg had it on good authority that to this day, Max was still hung up on his ex. Meg’s mom told her that Max hadn’t had a serious relationship since their divorce. That inability to move on was doing him no favors now, only serving to point the finger of suspicion at him with his ex-wife’s death.
Add to that the fact that he shared a failing business with his daughter, who unsuccessfully asked for a loan just last night, which only made the suspicion build even further. Financial gain and love gone wrong were both motives for murder, but when both were at play at the same time, it could make for a nasty situation.
“We’re trying to find that out,” Connor replied.
“Do you know who did it?” Max wondered.
“We’re working on that part,” Connor said.
“Well, I’ll be happy to help in any way I can. Whoever did this needs to pay,” Max replied.
Meg had never heard those words come out of a suspect’s mouth before. Did he not realize he was under suspicion here, or was he just playing dumb?
“Thank you for your cooperation,” Connor said.
Meg wanted to get straight to the point. “Mr. Ferrell, is it true you were still hung up on your ex-wife?”
If Max was uncomfortable before, he was practically wriggling now. “If you’re asking if I still have feelings for my ex, the answer is yes.”
“Did she know this, and if so, how did she respond?” Meg asked.
He averted his eyes. “She didn’t feel the same way about me.”
“Did you know she was sleeping with David Galloway, and that their affair had caused her and her husband Andrew Riddle to separate?” Meg said.
“Yeah, I knew that too,” he admitted.
“When was the last time you talked to Hope?” Meg wondered.
“I don’t know,” Max said.
Up until then, Max had been both quick and forthcoming with his answers. Suddenly, he was both reluctant and vague, just when it mattered most.
Meg had to keep on pressing. “You don’t know, or you don’t want to tell us?”
Max exhaled and shrugged his shoulders. “It’s been months.”
Meg had a hard time believing that. “Really, you didn’t talk to your ex-wife last night after Hope turned your daughter down for a loan?”
Max’s face went blank. “Delilah did what?”
“Oh, come on. Are you going to tell me you didn’t know that your ex-wife shot your daughter down for a loan to keep your business afloat just hours before she was murdered?” Meg asked.
“No.” Max then switched gears. “Wait a minute, you can’t honestly think Delilah had anything to do with this, do you?”
Connor stepped in. “We’re not ruling anything out--”
Max became defiant. “No. Delilah has a kind, gentle soul. She’d never do anything like this.”
“How about you?” Connor said.
“Me? I didn’t do this either,” Max replied.
“Where were you last night between eleven and midnight?” Connor wondered.
“I was playing poker with a few of my buddies,” Max answered.
“Then I suppose your buddies can verify that,” Connor said.
Max nodded. “Of course they can.”
Connor pulled out a pen and a pad of paper from his pocket. “We’ll need the names and numbers.”
“Fine. Go ahead, call them,” Max insisted.
Connor did just that.
***
A few minutes later, much to both Meg and Connor’s surprise, each of Max’s three poker buddies corroborated his alibi. Of all the suspects to come out clean in this investigation, Max seemed to be the least likely. Yet, amazingly, his story checked out. It was hard to argue with three independent corroborations of his story.
Max’s buddies weren’t just able to verify that he was playing poker between eleven and midnight, either. Apparently, he’d been at his friend’s house hours before and after the murder had taken place.
Unlike with Andrew Riddle, who seemed to have talked to his friend beforehand, Max’s alibi was bulletproof. Given that, Meg and Connor felt confident crossing Max off their list of suspects.
Even so, that still left them with plenty of other suspicious people to check up on. They needed to pay another visit to Brooke and David Galloway immediately. And next would be Andrew Riddle.
Chapter Seventeen
Unfortunately, when they returned to both Andrew Riddle and the Galloway residence, there was no sign of any of them. They went to Andrew’s place first, then the Galloways. That’s when their frustration boiled over.
The Galloways car wasn’t in the driveway, nor did they answer Connor’s knock at the door. That was particularly odd. Usually, after being questioned, suspects tended to hunker down at home and lay low, eager to not draw attention to themselves.
Meg wanted to be certain they were truly gone and weren’t just trying to hide from further questioning. She excused herself and went around back under the pretense of trying the back door. Really, she just wanted the privacy to cast a spell.
Meg closed her eyes, focused, and started to cast a locator spell. That’s when she got a shock.
“What are you doing?” Connor asked.
Meg’s eyes jutted open as she clutched her chest. Talk about being taken by surprise. What was Connor doing back here? It was a good thing she hadn’t started her chant. That would have put her in a real pickle.
At least this she could explain away. “I have a headache. Sometimes it helps to close my eyes and just take a few deep breaths.”
“I see. Lucky for you, I have a bottle of aspirin in the car.”
“Good.”
“Anyway, it’s pretty clear the Galloways aren’t home. I’m going to put out an APB on them and Andrew Riddle in case they decided to make a break for it.”
“That’s a wise idea.”
“I’m also going to have one of my deputies watch the place to see if they come home. That way, we’ve got all the bases covered.”
“Yeah. If they are running, they won’t be able to make it far,” Meg said.
“In the meantime, I thought we should hit up the metaphysical shop,” Connor replied.
“That’s a good idea.”
Connor then started walking back to the car. He stopped when he noticed Meg was still standing in place.
“Are you coming?” he continued.
Meg was hoping she could hang behind for a second and cast the locator spell in peace, but it was clear Connor was in a hurry. Apparently, the spell would have to wait. Making compromises like this was one of the unfortunate aspects of investigating as a team.
All she could do was nod and move on. That was ok. She was a resourceful woman. She’d find a way to sneak in her spell eventually. Meg just had to wait for the opportunity to present itself. In the meantime, the metaphysical shop beckoned.
Chapter Eighteen
Meg had never been inside a metaphysical shop before. She didn’t know quite what to expect, both from the décor and the staff. Would there be healing crystals, employees wearing glittery new age robes, and gentle sit
ar music playing in the background?
As a secret witch and an outsider herself, Meg knew the importance of keeping an open mind. No one wanted to be judged. Besides, it was hard enough getting information out of people.
The thick odor of strong incense welcomed them before they even set foot in the shop. Once Meg and Connor were inside, it was like they had been transported to a whole different world. As suspected, there were crystals and sitar music. New age items were everywhere.
Connor was completely out of his element. He wasn’t alone. Meg was not entirely comfortable either, although for a different reason. It was more surreal than anything for her. The shop seemed to be the kind of place a person pretending to be a witch might shop. Like a tourist trap version of a witchcraft emporium. Yet, oddly, as an actual witch, albeit a secret one, Meg had no interest in the goods being peddled. They all looked too kitschy. More importantly, there was nothing magical about the so-called spellbound merchandise.
As a witch, Meg was attuned on a guttural level to the ethereal. Her gut knew the genuine article from the cheap knockoffs, and there was nothing healing about the crystals sold here, nor magical about the spells and potions on the shelves. When Meg laid her eyes on Tiffany Osborn, the co-owner of the store, she knew immediately why everything had an imitation feel to it.
Tiffany Osborn was a voluptuous woman in her early fifties with strawberry blonde hair, red freckles on her round cheeks, and blue eyes. That wasn’t what stood out about Tiffany. The most striking thing was her outfit. Here she was, running a new age metaphysical shop, wearing a business blouse and skirt with her hair tied back in a bun. She looked like she worked at a bank, not someone who made her money on the ethereal.
“First time here?” Tiffany asked.
Apparently, Tiffany wasn’t the one who stuck out like a sore thumb here. Connor especially looked like a regular stiff compared to the all-female, new age clientele in the store.
Connor forced a smile, then joked. “Is it that obvious?”
The Witches Of Enchanted Bay: A Riddle Of A Murder (Witches Of Enchanted Bay Cozy Mystery Book 5) Page 5