Once Upon A Murder

by D E Dennis

  He sighed. "I don't like it much myself. It seems everything we learn about this guy just makes me—"

  "—happy he's dead," she said bluntly, a harsh glint in her eyes.

  Michael stood and walked over to her desk. The question he had to ask was at the forefront of his mind, but it burned coming out of his mouth. "Did Preston attack Ella?"

  Monica looked at him steadily, and thankfully, shook her head.

  She went on, "He tried though."

  Michael balled his fist. "Thank goodness, she got away." He cursed. "I should have seen it myself though. This is why I let you do all the talking. I really put my foot in it today."

  "No arguments here," she said, but her tone was kind. She patted his arm. "It's okay, Michael. Now we know, now Samira knows, and now Adalynn knows. We will all do what we can to support Ella."

  "What do we know, Mo?" he questioned. "What exactly happened in that room?"

  She sighed. "Well, Ella was in there alone like she said which explains why she wasn't in any of the pictures and how she managed to stay at the party without her foster sister knowing. She was out on the balcony when Preston came in, a little unsteady from drinking. She said he was pleasant at first. He joined her outside and asked if she was having fun and made small talk. He then said he was cold and asked if they could talk inside. He led her to the bed, everything was fine, until he tried to kiss her.

  “Ella rejected him, but he got more insistent and eventually more aggressive. She hit him, and he fell back onto the bed and then she ran leaving the shoe behind. Under the circumstances, she didn't bother to go back and get it. She then threw the other shoe away, because she was never going to speak to him again, and like she said, one without the other is useless."

  He nodded. "That explains the mystery of the missing shoe, but sadly it also does something else."

  "It gives Ella a motive," Monica finished. She got to her feet and stepped around him. "I'm going to make that coffee. We could use it. It's been a long day."

  Following her into the kitchenette, Michael leaned against the doorframe and said, "Did she give you and Samira an alibi for the murder?"

  Monica answered without turning around. "She said she was home all night with Adalynn. Adalynn confirmed it."

  Michael rested his head against the jamb. "But was Adalynn actually lucid enough to confirm anything."

  "Don't know," she admitted. "But she's adamant that Ella was home all night, and we don't have any evidence saying otherwise. What we do know is that Preston was more than just a jerk. He tried to assault Ella when he was drunk, maybe he's had too much and got aggressive with other people. Friends, witnesses, even his parents have tried to dance around it but from what Lance and Ella have told us, Preston was far from a good guy. He might have a slew of enemies we know nothing about."

  "We need to change that," Michael said. "Find out what Mrs. Charming is holding back. Re-interview the friends, the exes, everyone. Do you know anyone close to the Charmings?"

  "I would have mentioned it by now if I did. I’m afraid my network of friends doesn't reach that far. If we want to speak with her, we'll have to arrange it with her and hope she won't tell her husband."

  He kissed his teeth. "You would think that guy would want to give us whatever help we need to find who did this. Instead of making threats."

  She snorted. "Do you have him figured out because I just don't get that guy?"

  Michael looked away. "I know everything I need to know about him. Now, I need to know about his son. You try to arrange a meeting with Mrs. Charming, and I'll go back to Castle Rock Prep and track down Lance, Auggie, Peyton, and whoever else will talk to me."

  "Alright, but what about the Inos? We left after Ella shared her story to give them some space, but we still don't know why Delilah wasn't at the party? Also, if Preston turned into a raging jerk when he drank, why didn't Abigail tell us about it?"

  "We'll just have to talk to everyone again." Michael leaned forward and accepted a mug of coffee from his sister. "We'll start putting together a detailed suspect list, with their possible motives and alibis. We only have a couple days to solve this and I don't know about you, but I'm ready to put this one to bed."

  "Agreed."

  They clinked mugs and turned and got back to work.

  MICHAEL TOSSED HIS jacket and wallet on the bed and went straight into his closet. When he emerged sometime later, he was decked out in running shoes, shorts, and an athletic t-shirt. Carrying only the necessities, Michael took off out the door and broke into a sprint the moment he hit the cool night air.

  He loved running. It was the only time he truly felt at peace with his thoughts. Where his cluttered mind could clear the mess away and only let the important through.

  He had two normal routes. The quick one around his block that he preferred when he didn't have much time and the long one that took him straight through town, through the square, and out toward Siren Woods. He never went into the woods though. Never.

  Tonight, Michael chose the long route. His feet pounded the concrete, arms swinging, chest heaving, and his mind cleared. He didn't notice neighbors passing by or stop to admire his picturesque town. He just ran.

  Preston Charming. Only son of Bryan and Penelope Charming, the second richest couple in Castle Rock. Preston Charming was the prince of Castle Rock Prep. Voted class president and received high praise from the headmistress who gives out compliments as easily as a stone gives water. He kept up a perfect facade to the world, but underneath the winning smile was another man.

  That man drank to the point of driving drunk and scaring his parents. He was cut off and started dating Abigail Ino, his best friend's crush, so that he could spend her money instead. He invited Ella to his party, forced himself on her, and seemingly continued on, cool as a cucumber after it happened.

  Did he not remember what he did while he was drunk, or did he simply not care?

  That thought slowed Michael down.

  Preston knew where Ella lived. If he wanted to talk with her, apologize or explain himself, it wouldn't have been nearly enough to excuse what he did but if he knew what happened and had an ounce of decency in him, he would have done it anyway.

  Maybe he didn't care, Michael thought grimly. He's the son of a wealthy powerful family and she cleans the houses of wealthy powerful families. He wasn't worried about her or what she might say. Maybe his intent all along was to get her to that party and try something.

  What kind of guy were they dealing with here?

  And would Michael ever find out the answer to that question?

  Michael soon reached the end of his route. Siren Woods loomed in front of him and he skidded to a stop at the point where asphalt became dirt. Michael turned around and began jogging back the way he came.

  He was almost to the town square when his stomach began rumbling. No wonder. It was pushing eight o'clock and he hadn't eaten anything since noon.

  Michael veered off the path leading to the fountain and headed for the Little Pigs café. He didn't feel like cooking tonight, and they did a mean Rueben sandwich. That would satisfy his belly even if it couldn't satisfy his tumultuous mind.

  The bell over the door chimed signaling his arrival, and the staff looked up from the register and greeted him warmly.

  "Good evening, sir. What can I get you?"

  "Can I get a Rueben sandwich, chocolate chip muffin, and a cup of chamomile tea, please? Thank you."

  He handed over his credit card and then turned to find a seat. Their eyes met almost immediately.

  Michael gulped, seriously considering running right out the door, but he had already paid for his food and more importantly she had already spotted him.

  Samira lifted a hand and beckoned him over. After hesitating for only a second, he went over to her table and took a seat.

  He gave her a cautious smile. "Hey, Mira. What brings you here?"

  A part of him knew it was silly to be nervous. He saw her only a few hours ago. But
they were working then and both of them knew to keep things a hundred percent professional when they were on the job, especially in front of Monica and Spencer.

  Now, they were on their own time and there was no one to act as buffer. Samira was free to bring up the one thing he did not want to talk about.

  Their past.

  Samira wrinkled her nose. "You went for a run instead of eating I see. Well, as for me, my apartment is only five minutes away. I’m actually quite the regular. I come here and let them feed me dinner instead of trying to down whatever I could come up with."

  He laughed. "Your cooking isn't that bad."

  She snorted. "There's a reason that I let you make all the meals when we were together. No one wants a repeat of our first Thanksgiving."

  Michael chuckled, but decided to steer the conversation away from old times. "So how is the new place?"

  "It's small but good enough for one person. I don't spend much time there to be honest. Especially over the last few days," she mumbled before taking a sip.

  Michael leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "So, my sister and I aren't the only ones who wish this case was over?"

  She shook her head. "I'm still reeling from what Ella told me. I contacted the Charmings after we spoke to her and set up a meeting for tomorrow, but I'm not holding my breath that it will go well."

  "Here you are, sir." A cheery voice brought their conversation to a halt. Michael accepted his food with thanks and bit into his sandwich right away. He was ravenous.

  "Still no phone records?" he asked after he swallowed.

  "We should be getting them back soon. I'm afraid it's not like in the movies where the detective gets all the evidence she needs exactly when she needs it. The wheels of justice are slow, especially in this town. The CRPD is a small operation. Spencer and I are the only detectives and we have a lot of pressure on us to solve this case."

  She squeezed her eyes shut, her shoulders slumping. Michael put down his food.

  "Hey," he said softly. "We're going to figure this out. You're a great detective and you have Grimm Investigations on your side. I mean, I am going to solve this case before you," he teased, "but we will solve this case."

  She laughed. "I think there was a pep talk somewhere in there underneath the gloating, so I'll say thanks. Also, you're a jerk."

  Michael laughed along with her. He slid his muffin toward her and picked up his sandwich once more.

  "It's cute that you still do that," she whispered.

  He paused, mouth half-open. "Do what?"

  She pointed at the muffin. "You still try to share your dessert with me."

  "Oh..." Well, now he was stuck. He couldn't take it back. That would have just made the moment even more awkward than it was. "I just— I know you like chocolate so..." He trailed off.

  "It's alright," she said lightly, picking up the muffin. "I like sharing with you." She bit into the sweet treat, her eyes fixed on him, and Michael felt himself growing warm. Beads of sweat broke out along his skin despite the air-conditioning running full blast.

  He roughly cleared his throat. "We're going to begin re-interviewing people starting tomorrow. Now that we know Preston had a problem with drinking and what he was like under the influence, we may be able to get more answers. Then, we'll chart out who had the most reason to want him gone and how they could have lured him into the woods."

  She nodded. "We'll keep running into each other then because Spencer and I will be doing the same thing."

  "Works for me," he said lightly.

  They went back to their respective meals. They didn't speak much after that, but all the same, Michael left the restaurant feeling lighter.

  ONCE AGAIN, MICHAEL was alert and seated at his desk when his sister came in the next morning. She grunted a greeting and threw herself into her chair.

  "Morning, Mo. Let’s get started," Michael said, all business, "I just got off the phone with Mrs. Wolf. I didn't give her all the details, but I did tell her about the bottles I found in the student council office and explained that Preston wasn't the guy we all thought he was. I told her it was urgent that I speak with his friends again, if we're ever going to find his killer."

  "What did she say?" Monica said while trying to shake off her tiredness.

  "She agreed but said this time we would have to do it properly. She'll be pulling Auggie, Lance, Abigail, Delilah, and Peyton out of class and giving me an empty classroom, so we can speak."

  "That's perfect," Monica said. "Wow, I wasn't expecting Big Bad Wolf to be so accommodating. She was such a nightmare when I went to CRP."

  Michael laughed, shaking his head. "She's not so bad, but she also isn't being as accommodating as you think. She's contacting all of their parents first to get permission for them to speak to us."

  Monica groaned. "Which means they are probably all going to refuse to let us near their precious trust fund babies without at least a lawyer in the room."

  "I'll take what I can get. I'm heading over there around lunch."

  "We. We are heading over there."

  He looked at her questioningly.

  "This case has taken a turn. We're dealing with assault now. I should be there just in case one of the girls isn’t comfortable speaking to you."

  He nodded. She didn't need to go further. "You're right. I need you there, but I thought you were finding a way to get us alone with Penelope Charming."

  Monica sighed. "I think the ambush approach is our best bet. We know her husband works late, so after we leave the school, I say we just show up at the gate, say we have to speak to her immediately and hope he doesn't come home early again."

  Michael didn't like it, but she was right. It was ridiculous that they had to go around their own client to solve the case he hired them on, but Michael would do what he had to do.

  MRS. WOLF GREETED HIM with a bright smile. "Hello, Michael. Such a treat seeing you twice in one week, although I wish it was under better circumstances."

  He shook her hand and stepped back to gesture to his sister. "You remember my little sister, Monica."

  The smile melted off her face. Oh yeah, she remembered.

  Mrs. Wolf sniffed. "Hello, Miss Grimm. How are you?"

  "Just fine, Wolf," Monica said tightly. "Can't complain."

  She sniffed again and stepped out from behind her desk. "Follow me, I'll show you to the classroom where you'll be conducting the interviews. I'm sorry to say that you won't be able to speak with Mr. Greer or Mr. Hart. Their parents refused to let them speak to you without them and a lawyer present."

  "They're both eighteen," Monica protested.

  "Yes, but they are still students and I can't go against their parents’ wishes. I suggest you arrange something off grounds. As for Miss Dunn, her parents said you can ask whatever questions you like, and Mrs. Ino did not answer the phone when I called so I'm cautiously allowing you to speak to the twins." Abruptly, she stopped and spun on them. "The teachers are not aware of why the girls are being pulled out of class and I'll trust that you will also handle the matter discreetly. Castle Rock Prep has a spotless reputation and we don't need to be involved in a murder investigation."

  "You mean you don't need to be involved in another murder investigation," Monica shot back.

  Wolf bared her teeth, canines glinting in the artificial light, but she didn't rise to the bait. Instead, she turned back around and kept marching. The siblings quickened their pace to keep up with her.

  She led them through the halls to the Forgotten Wing. Well, that is what Michael and his classmates called it when he went to school here. The wing was built years ago when there was talk of making the school public and opening it up to students of both sides, but plans fell through and the school didn't need the extra space, so now the classrooms sat empty, another monument to the lengths that the Fairy Tails community would go to to keep the barrier between the haves and have nots.

  "Abigail Ino has the first lunch block," Wolf stated as she held the door ope
n for them to go in. "While her sister and Miss Dunn have the second. They have an hour for lunch, so I told them to report here first to have their interviews as this shouldn't take more than thirty minutes. If it does take more time, they have permission to miss class to finish their lunch, but I trust that it won't." Wolf pinned him with a look. "I want this matter settled and I want it settled today. Is that clear?"

  Michael inclined his head. "Yes, ma'am."

  She broke out into a smile. "Good. Make sure you say goodbye to me before you leave, Michael."

  With that, she left closing the door behind her.

  Monica rolled her eyes. "Notice she only asked you to say goodbye, Michael. It was all growls and ‘Miss Grimm’ for me."

  Michael patted her shoulder. "Monica, you put piglets in her office and numbered them one, two, and four. She went crazy looking for a third piglet that didn't exist, not to mention the unholy things they did on her carpet. Were you really expecting a warm welcome?"

  Monica lifted her nose in the air. "They never proved that it was me." Although, Michael could clearly see her smirk.

  "Whatever. The first lunch block starts soon so help me with this."

  Together they took two desks that were shoved in the back of the room and scooted them into the middle. They turned over three chairs and set them around the desks then they waited.

  Abigail didn't take long to arrive.

  "You two again?" she spat. "Why won't you leave me alone?"

  "You know why," Monica said calmly. "We're trying to find the person who killed your boyfriend. Please sit, Abigail."

  She heaved a sigh and sat with a glare on her face and her arms crossed.

  "Ask your flipping questions then, so I can eat my lunch."

  "I will," said Monica, "but the questions I'm going to ask will be on the sensitive side. If you want my brother to leave at any point so you can speak to me alone, just say so."

  The glare softened ever so slightly. She seemed surprised at her serious tone. "Um... okay."

  "What was Preston like?"

  She shrugged. "I told you. He was handsome, popular—"