“That’s ok. All walks of life are welcome at The Transcendent Moon,” Tiffany said.
The snarky part of Meg wanted to make a crack about the store welcoming all manner of cash, but she restrained herself.
“We’re not really here to get transcendent,” Connor said.
“Why not? It’s never too late to find inner peace. Besides, you can never underestimate the transformative power of tranquility,” Tiffany replied.
Tiffany may not have looked the part of a new age guru, but she sure spoke in the language of the ethereal. Either that or she was just fluent in the language of sales.
Meg had to give the detective credit; he wasn’t distracted in the least.
Connor kept right on point. “Ms. Osborn, I’m Detective Smith with the Enchanted Bay Police Department. We have to ask you some questions about the death of your business partner, Hope Riddle.”
Tiffany’s eyes opened wide. So much for the schlocky sales tactics. She suddenly went into self-preservation mode. Still, being a shrewd businesswoman, Tiffany wanted this conversation held as far away from customers as humanly possible.
“Why don’t we talk about this in the back?” Tiffany suggested.
Chapter Nineteen
Tiffany led Meg and Connor to her office in the back room. Just because she wasn’t trying to sell them healing crystals anymore didn’t mean she’d dropped her fast-talking savvy business ways. Now, she just wanted out of this conversation as quickly as possible.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but I think you’ve come to the wrong place,” Tiffany said.
Meg stopped her right there. “Wait a minute. Are you saying you don’t know about Hope’s death?”
Her answer would be interesting. Meg paid close attention to Tiffany’s eyes in case she said she was unaware of her business partner’s murder. If her pupils dilated, there was a good chance she was lying.
“No, I know about it, and it’s awful. I’m just not sure why you’re here,” Tiffany replied.
Meg stopped her again. “How did you find out about it?”
“Are you kidding? This is a small town. Hope’s death is all anyone is talking about now. I’ve had half a dozen customers come in today to say how badly they feel,” Tiffany said.
“You seem to be taking it well, given the circumstances,” Meg replied.
Meg’s statement was purposefully open-ended. It could be construed both as an accusation, or a compliment, depending on how Tiffany chose to take it. There was no remorse in Tiffany’s eyes. She looked completely unfazed. That was very suspicious in Meg’s opinion.
Tiffany chose to take it another way. “I may look like business-as-usual on the outside, but things are much different on the inside. I’m very sorry about what happened to Hope.”
“You say that, but as co-owner of the store, you had a lot to gain from Hope being out of the picture,” Meg said.
Tiffany was outraged. “How dare you talk to me like that?”
“How dare I? Word on the street is that you two weren’t exactly seeing eye-to-eye when it came to the business,” Meg replied.
Tiffany downplayed things. “So we had a couple of arguments. No one gets along all the time. It was no big deal.”
Meg shook her head. “That’s not what I heard. I heard it was more than a disagreement. Rumor has it this place was in deep trouble financially.”
Tiffany folded her arms. “Who did you hear that from?
“Hope’s daughter.”
Tiffany snickered. “You mean the one she was estranged from?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re going to believe her over me, someone who has been running this business day in and day out?”
“Are you telling me it isn’t true?” Meg asked.
Tiffany grimaced. “So we’re in a little bit of a sales lull. It’s nothing I can’t fix.”
Connor then stepped in again. “What did you and Hope disagree about?”
“I don’t really see what that has to do with this,” Tiffany said.
Her evasiveness wasn’t doing her any favors.
Connor called her on it. “It may have everything to do with this. The only way we’ll know for sure is if you tell us what you two disagreed about.”
Tiffany remained tight-lipped.
Connor continued. “Unless you have something to hide.”
“Trust me, I have nothing to hide,” Tiffany replied.
“Prove it. I don’t know why you keep trying to tiptoe around this. Evading the question just makes you look more suspicious,” Meg said.
Tiffany sighed. “Fine. Hope believed in leaving things up to the cosmos. To turn to the stars in order to solve our business woes. I believed in being more pro-active. To actively try to recruit a wider customer base.”
“That doesn’t just seem like a little disagreement. It sounds like you two were on different sides of the universe when it came to business philosophy,” Meg said.
“You’re making a bigger deal of it than it was,” Tiffany insisted.
“Am I? The fact is, with Hope dead, you’ll have complete control of the business. You can run it as you see fit and make all the changes that Hope didn’t want to,” Meg speculated.
“So now you’re accusing me of murder? I can’t believe it. I wouldn’t do something like that,” Tiffany snapped.
“Why should we believe you? It’s impossible to deny that you had a motive,” Meg said.
“First of all, I believe in karma, and there’s no worse karma in the world than killing someone,” Tiffany explained.
Connor wasn’t about to get into a spiritual debate with her. He was focused on something else entirely. “Your explanation is all well and good, but there’s only one thing that matters when it comes to this case.”
“What’s that?” Tiffany asked.
“Where were you last night between eleven and midnight?” Connor replied.
“I was here,” Tiffany said.
“At the shop?” he asked.
She nodded.
Connor furrowed his brow. “The sign on the door says that the shop closes at ten. What were you still doing here?”
“Just some paperwork,” Tiffany said.
“Were you alone?” Connor replied.
“Yes, but I was here,” Tiffany pleaded.
“A story is only as good as the ability to verify it. Do you have any proof that you were here? Security camera footage? Anything?” Connor asked.
Tiffany shook her head. “All I have is my word.”
“I’m afraid that’s not good enough,” Connor said.
“This is ridiculous. I didn’t do this,” Tiffany snapped.
“Ms. Osborn, I’d advise you to calm down. Must I remind you that you’re talking to an officer of the law?” Connor asked.
Tiffany lowered her voice volume but remained defiant. “Look, I know my rights. You don’t have anything on me. You can’t arrest me. Now, I have a business to run, and I’m going to get back to it.”
Connor stared her down. Meg could tell he wanted to take her into the station for more questioning, but he knew it wouldn’t do any more good. She was done talking to them. More importantly, they didn’t have any hard evidence. Still, Connor was sure to get the last word in.
“Don’t go leaving town now,” Connor warned.
Chapter Twenty
By that point in the investigation, Meg and Connor were famished. Their stomachs wouldn’t let them drive by their favorite greasy spoon joint without stopping in for a bite. They told themselves that it was hard to think straight on an empty stomach, but the fact was, the allure of comfort food was a hard thing to resist. It always surprised Meg how quickly detective work drummed up a serious appetite. Al’s Diner had just the things they were looking for.
Some of Al’s famous chicken pot pie would turn Meg’s mood completely around. Meg and Connor parked themselves at the counter, partially because the only empty booth in the diner was yet to be bussed, but also because they always
got quicker service when they sat on the stools beside the register. The owner, Al Gordon, always manned the counter and made sure they were taken care of.
Even though Meg and Connor already knew what they wanted to order, they were forced to wait as Al took the orders of a few obvious tourists further down the counter. The tourists were very slow with their orders, taking the scenic route through every category of their menus, peppering Al with questions along the way.
Connor was usually a very patient man, but his hunger got the best of him right then. He groaned, opened one of the free packets of saltines that were placed beside the napkin dispenser on the counter, gobbled them down, and began kvetching.
“What a crazy day, huh?” he said. He shook his head, annoyed. “Is it too much to ask for one of these cases to be open and shut? Yet, there’s never a smoking gun around when you need one. Instead, it’s always lies, more lies, and enough suspects to form a traveling circus of deceit.”
Meg knew it was Connor’s hunger and frustration talking, but she didn’t want to be the one to bear the brunt of it. She opened up another packet of saltines and held them out for him. “More crackers?”
He looked into her eyes and immediately felt bad about being so irritable. “Sorry. I’m a little on edge.”
“It happens to the best of us.”
Connor wasn’t satisfied with a simple apology. “Really, I feel bad. It’s amazing what an awful stew hunger and frustration make when mixed together.”
“Your stomach will get its wish soon enough,” Meg said.
Just then, Al Gordon came over.
“See what I mean,” Meg continued.
Al got his writing pad ready to jot down their orders. “Sorry for the wait. Not everyone is as familiar with the menu as you two.”
Al was like a grandfather figure to everyone in town. The kind of man who dressed up as Santa Claus for free every Christmas out of the goodness of his heart just to see the smiles on people’s faces. He found a way to always be in good spirits, despite the wild, stressful rushes of the restaurant business. He had the rotund figure of a man who enjoyed his own cooking, a head of gray hair, and a full beard.
He was also not shy about his opinions. “You two look awful.”
“Thanks, Al. That really makes us feel better,” Meg deadpanned.
“Hey, sometimes life hands you lemons. Good thing, here at Al’s, we happened to turn them into fresh squeezed lemonade,” Al replied. “Or, maybe I can interest you in a nice, thick milkshake.”
Connor snickered. “You’re always pandering to our taste buds.”
“How do you think I’ve stayed in business so long? People don’t keep coming back here because of my looks, that’s for sure. So, can I put you down for two milkshakes then?” Al asked.
The sales pitch didn’t work on Connor in the least. “Just the usual for us.”
That didn’t stop Al from trying. “Ah, live a little.”
Meg laughed. “Since when is ordering a milkshake living a little?”
“Have your tried our shakes lately? It’s like tasting the high life,” Al said.
Connor remained firm. “Thanks, Al, but trust us when we say we’ve been doing plenty of living today.”
“Too much, even,” Meg added.
Al dropped the sales pitch, leaned in, and got serious. “Are you two working on the Hope Riddle case?”
Connor’s eyes became wide. “How did you know that?”
“Have you forgotten how small Enchanted Bay is? Word spreads like wildfire here. Besides, people get a little chatty around me. So, is that a yes?” Al wondered.
Connor remained tight-lipped. “We can’t really talk about it. That’s official police business.”
Meg had a completely different take. “Yeah, we’re working on that case. Have you heard anything juicy?”
Connor stared his girlfriend down and whispered in her ear. “Meg, what are you doing?”
Al shook his head. “Nah. I’ve just heard the basics. What a tough way to go. How’s Andrew taking it, by the way?”
“Not great,” Meg replied.
Talk about an understatement. Andrew was practically the prime suspect. Of course, Al didn’t need to know that.
Al grimaced. “It’s been a rough couple of days for him. He looked really rough around the edges when I saw him at the bar last night.”
Meg had a hunch talking about the case with Al would lead to a development of some sort. Following her instincts paid off even quicker than she imagined. Even more, Al hadn’t even realize that he’d given them a break in the case.
She jumped at the news. “Did you just say the bar?”
Al got defensive. “You know, surprising as it is, I do have a social life outside this diner.”
Meg corrected herself. “I’m not surprised to hear that you were at the bar. My shock is directed at the fact that you saw Andrew Riddle there.”
Suddenly, Connor became very interested in the proceedings. “When did you see him at the bar?”
Meg turned to Connor with one eyebrow raised. “Oh, so now you’re interested in talking about the case with Al?”
“I’ll eat humble pie later, right now I’m more concerned with the fact that Andrew Riddle was at a local bar last night,” Connor replied.
“Humble pie is overrated. Our apple pie, meanwhile, is to die for,” Al said.
“Forget about the pie. When did you see Andrew at the bar, and what bar?” Meg asked.
“First of all, never underestimate the transformative power of a good slice of pie,” Al said.
“Spoken like a lifelong restaurateur. Now, can we get to the bar,” Meg replied.
“All right, all right. I saw him about ten-ish at The Craggily Sea Captain. Why?” Al replied.
The Craggily Sea Captain was a dive bar on the docks which was mostly frequented by the local fishermen in town. The exact specifics of the bar weren’t nearly as important as the fact that Andrew Riddle had been spotted there.
It was hard for Meg to keep a smile from her face. “Al, you’re the best.”
Al gave her a big grin. “An old codger like me can never hear that enough.” He then switched gears. “Although, I don’t get why seeing Andrew Riddle at the bar last night is such a big deal.”
“I’ll tell you all about it later. In the meantime, we’re going to need to change our orders,” Meg said.
“All this talk about pie and milkshakes got you extra hungry, didn’t it? So, what do you say, can I get you two of each?” Al replied.
“Actually, we need two of the fastest to-go sandwiches you can make,” Meg said.
Al shrugged his shoulders. “What’s the hurry?”
Chapter Twenty-One
Meg usually enjoyed slowly savoring her food, but that wasn’t a possibility now. Instead, Meg and Connor attacked their food with ravenous ferocity as they drove over to The Craggily Sea Captain Bar. This could be the break they’d been waiting for, and they needed to chase it down immediately.
When they arrived at the bar, there were only a handful of patrons in side. That wasn’t surprising, given that it was only the early afternoon. If anything, Meg figured the place would be completely empty. What she hadn’t accounted for were the barflies that seemed to be as big of fixtures there as the faded and cracked boat steering wheel that hung on the wall.
Meg couldn’t get over the odor of the place. Even though she’d grown up in Enchanted Bay, she rarely went over to the docks. It was the domain of fishermen, not donut shop managers. The smell of ocean air was one thing, the odor of fish and the men who caught that seafood was another. She imagined it would take a week’s worth of showers for these barflies to be rid of that fishy smell that clung to them and their clothes so tightly. After so many years in their line of work, it just seeped into their pores. Then again, these men didn’t look like they took showers very often.
Odors aside, The Craggily Sea Captain was an out-of-the-way bar, on the water, far from the typical ha
ngout for a buttoned-up guy like Andrew Riddle. That was especially true given the number of sports bars that had cropped up around the newly revitalized Main Street lately. If Andrew turned up in a place like this, he would have stuck out almost as much as Meg currently did.
The barflies stopped nursing their beers and gave her their full attention as she approached the bar. This was one of the times that she was happy to have Connor by her side. Paulie O’Dell held court behind the bar, looking the part of the sixty-two-year-old, rotund, weathered, former fishermen that he was. He wore the decades-old captain’s hat that was his staple, which was ironic, considering in his days at sea, he never made it above first mate. Finally, a few decades ago, he traded in his sea legs for the opportunity to run this bar, but he still acted like he could head back out on the water at any time.
Paulie recognized Connor immediately and didn’t look particularly happy to see him. Did they have a past? Was it personal, or law enforcement related? She had a hunch that it was the latter, but she wasn’t about to ask. First, it would likely be a sore spot between them. Not to mention there were more pressing concerns at the moment.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t the type of place to have security cameras. It was barely the kind to even have functioning cash registers or lighting that wasn’t completely on the fritz. With no security cameras in sight, that meant they’d have to rely on eye-witness reports if they could even find someone that was vaguely cooperative.
Paulie narrowed his eyes at them. “I hope you didn’t come here to stir up trouble.”
“Afternoon, Paulie. Don’t worry, this isn’t about you or your employees,” Connor replied.
Paulie was still far from giving them a warm welcome. “Then what’s it about?”
“We’re here to ask about one of your patrons,” Connor said.
“So you are here to stir up trouble,” Paulie replied.
Connor reached for his phone and pulled up a photo of Andrew Riddle on it.
“Trust me, I’m not asking for a whole lot of skin off of your teeth. I just want to know if this man was here last night,” Connor said.
The Witches Of Enchanted Bay: A Riddle Of A Murder (Witches Of Enchanted Bay Cozy Mystery Book 5) Page 6