Meg and Connor approached him at the customer service counter.
“Mr. Anderson, we’d like to have a word with you,” Meg said.
“What can I do for you?” Owen replied.
Connor flashed his police badge. “Do you know somewhere we can talk that’s a little quieter?”
Owen’s eyes got wide as he looked at the police badge.
“Follow me,” Owen said.
***
Owen led Meg and Connor back to the loading dock. There were no delivery vans or semi-trucks anywhere around. It must have been one of the few quiet times in the day back there.
Owen looked nervous, unsure of what was about to transpire.
“All right, this is as quiet as it gets. What’s this about?” Owen asked.
“Mr. Anderson, where were you last night between eleven and midnight?” Connor wondered.
Owen looked completely confused. “Would you mind telling me what this is about first?”
Connor held firm. “I would mind. Just answer the question.”
“I was at home, watching some TV,” Owen answered.
“Alone?” Connor replied.
“Yes, why?” Owen asked.
“I guess that means you don’t have an alibi then,” Connor said.
“For what?” Owen wondered.
“The murder of Walter Newman,” Connor revealed.
Owen looked surprised. Now, whether that expression was genuine or manufactured, was yet to be determined. “Murder?”
“Come on, you didn’t know your boss was killed last night?” Meg asked.
“No. I’ve been here all morning,” Owen replied.
“So, you’re saying in a small, gossipy town like Enchanted Bay; you managed to work all morning at the grocery store Walter owned without a single customer mentioning that he’d been killed?” Meg said.
“Seriously, it’s been a busy morning. I’ve barely had time to catch my breath.” Owen then took a deep breath. “That’s terrible news about Walter.”
“It’s pretty awful news for you that you don’t have an alibi,” Meg countered.
“Look, I didn’t do this,” Owen insisted.
Connor narrowed his eyes. “That’s what they all say.”
“Let’s not be ridiculous here. Why would I even want my boss dead?” Owen asked, rhetorically.
He clearly didn’t expect Meg to be able to provide an answer. “I’ll give you a motive. You and Noah O’Leary were both up for a big promotion. Only, you didn’t get it.”
The Discount Dachshund was doing such good business that Walter was in the process of opening a new store across town. Owen and Noah were both up for the manager position of this second location. In the end, Owen lost the promotion to Noah.
Owen scoffed. “Who’d kill someone over not getting a promotion?”
“You’d be surprised what people are willing to kill over,” Connor said.
“Not me. I’d never do something like this,” Owen replied.
“Unfortunately, you have no alibi,” Connor said.
“I’m going to tell you again; I didn’t do this,” Owen replied.
Just then, another voice was heard.
“Do what?” the voice said.
Meg, Connor, and Owen turned to see the assistant manager, Noah O’Leary, approaching. Noah was a rotund, bespectacled man in his mid-forties with thinning black hair.
“Nothing,” Owen replied.
“Owen, what are you doing back here? I’ve been looking for you. You’re needed at the registers,” Noah revealed.
“I’ve been predisposed,” Owen said.
Noah then stared at Connor and Meg.
“Who are you and what do you want?” Noah asked.
Before the sleuth’s answered, Owen turned to Connor. “Can I go now?”
“For now, but don’t even think about leaving town,” Connor replied.
Noah grew impatient. “Will someone tell me what’s going on?”
Connor flashed his badge. “Why don’t we talk in your office, Mr. O’Leary?”
Chapter Eleven
Noah’s office was a mess. His cluttered desk was the focal point. His laptop was flanked on all sides by stacks of paper, a labeler, staplers, name tags, timecards, expense reports, and invoices. Meg was amazed Noah even had room to type on his computer.
It was ironic then that while his desk was ground zero for slobbery, the walls of the office were lined with motivational posters touting the power of organization, perseverance, and leadership. Meg didn’t have much time to linger on that point. The Doxie J. Savings costume sitting in the corner of the office drew the bulk of her interest. She stared at it, puzzled.
Meg knew Connor was interested in diving right into the questions. That was usually her approach too. This time, she wanted to try something different. At the first mention of murder, suspects naturally became defensive. It was hard to get a straight answer to even the simplest of questions.
Meg had a number of tangential questions she wanted answered. She decided to lead with those first. “I’m confused.”
“That’s funny. I was about to say the same thing to you,” Noah replied.
“What’s going on with the Doxie J. Savings costume? When I come here, I’m used to being greeted by your friendly mascot. That’s what you guys are known for. Yet, there’s just some cardboard cutout at the entrance. What gives?” Meg asked.
Noah grimaced and gave a purposefully vague answer. “We’re uh, between mascots.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Meg replied.
At first, Connor looked surprised that Meg began the questioning this way, but now, he was intrigued. “It sounds like there’s a story there.”
Noah looked at the investigators and saw them staring back at him. “Well, if you must know, Walter fired our last Doxie J. Savings person yesterday.”
“Oh, really? Talk about peculiar timing. What was this employee’s name?” Connor asked.
“More importantly, why was he fired?” Meg added.
“His name is Kenny Russell. Walter canned him because he got into some big blow up argument with his girlfriend in front of a group of kids yesterday,” Noah revealed.
“Wait a minute. He was arguing with his girlfriend in front of the store?” Meg asked.
Noah nodded. “In costume.”
“Ouch,” Meg replied.
“Yeah. If that wasn’t bad enough, apparently some unseemly words were exchanged in earshot of young children,” Noah said.
“Talk about a bonehead move,” Meg replied.
With the mystery of the Doxie J. Savings costume solved, Connor moved on to the harder questions. “Mr. O’Leary, where were you last night between eleven and midnight?”
Noah was taken aback by the abrupt switch in the subject. “Wait a minute, what’s going on here?”
“Please just answer the question,” Connor replied.
“I was asleep,” Noah said.
“Asleep?” Connor asked.
“It has been an exhausting few days on the job. I came home from work and just crashed,” Noah said.
“Were you alone?” Connor replied.
“Yeah. Why?” Noah asked.
“Because that means you don’t have anyone to verify your alibi for the time of Walter’s murder,” Connor said.
Noah scoffed. “I don’t need an alibi.”
Meg took over the questioning. “Why not?”
“I had no reason to want him dead. I just got a promotion, and with it, a nice pay raise. Things are looking up for me,” Noah said.
Meg couldn’t argue with that. No one did something as heinous as commit murder without a motive, and Noah didn’t seem to have one.
“Owen Anderson meanwhile has been fuming ever since getting passed up for the manager job,” Noah added.
Meg switched gears. “What about Stacey Watterson?”
Noah wrinkled his nose. “What about her?”
“I didn’t see Stacey Watte
rson in the store when we got here. Is she on break or something?” Meg asked.
“Actually, she didn’t come in today,” Noah replied.
“Is it her day off?” Meg wondered.
Noah shook his head. “No. She called in sick.”
“Sick?” Meg replied.
Meg and Connor knew that wasn’t the case. She certainly didn’t look ill when they questioned her earlier. Since she wasn’t truly sick, why did she call off work today?
All the answers Meg came up with were dubious in nature. In the end, there was only one way to find out. Meg and Connor set off to do just that.
Chapter Twelve
Stacey Watterson sure chose a suspicious day to call in sick, especially when both Meg and Connor knew she wasn’t ill. On top of that, she was very nervous around them when they questioned her in Al’s diner earlier. Something was going on, and they were going to get to the bottom of it. The minute the sleuths left the grocery store; they immediately drove over to her place.
Unfortunately, Meg and Connor were not greeted with a warm welcome. It was not a good sign when they didn’t see a car in the driveway as they pulled up. They didn’t get any better news when they knocked on the front door. Connor tried the door again while Meg got other ideas.
“Where are you going?” Connor asked.
“Keep trying this door. I’m going to head around the back,” Meg replied.
Meg’s gut was telling her Stacey wasn’t home, but she wanted to be sure. Stacey wouldn’t be the first suspect to hole up inside their house, hoping for the police to move on. There was another reason Meg wanted to go around the back of the house.
Most of the time she loved investigating alongside her boyfriend. That police badge was able to make more headway than Meg’s mouth most of the time. The only drawback of sleuthing in pairs was that she couldn’t just cast a spell whenever she wanted. Meg had to be strategic about it, ducking away and finding moments when she wouldn’t get caught.
She knew she didn’t have much time to work with. It was important to make this spell count. Meg took a deep breath and focused, casting an x-ray vision spell. Once cast, Meg could see if Stacey was truly inside and hiding out from them, or if she was elsewhere.
A moment later, the spell was successfully cast. Meg gave the house a quick scan, with disappointing results. Stacey was nowhere to be found. Meg didn’t have much time to bemoan coming up empty-handed. If Stacey wasn’t here, then where was she?
Luckily, there was a spell for that too. This called for a locator spell. Meg focused again and got ready to cast the spell. That’s when Connor came around the back and spotted her with her eyes closed.
“Are you all right?” Connor wondered.
Meg’s eyes darted open. She had to think fast. Luckily, he’d come around when her eyes were closed and not when she was in the middle of casting the spell.
“Yeah, I just got something in my eye. You know how it is during allergy season,” Meg replied.
“What a time for your allergies to flare up.”
“What can I say? They have no consideration for the fact that we’re in the middle of a murder investigation.”
He laughed. “So, any luck?”
“No. It looks like she’s gone.”
“I’m going to put out an APB on her,” Connor said.
“That’s a good idea.”
“I’ll also get a squad car stationed out front in case she comes home.”
“Let’s just hope she hasn’t decided to make a break for it,” Meg replied.
Chapter Thirteen
While Meg and Connor waited for any news on the all-points-bulletin put out on Stacey Watterson, they paid a visit to the next suspect on their list. That took them to Kenny Russell’s apartment. It was a ground floor unit on the working class side of town. Meg and Connor could hear the sound of various dogs barking in the distance.
What was most striking about the apartment complex wasn’t so much the rundown look of the place, although the exterior walls could use a good painting and the wilting, pathetic-looking shrubbery appeared to be gasping for water. The focal point of the place was the grimy, undersized swimming pool in the center of the courtyard. A coating of fallen leaves was covering almost the entire surface of the water. The scene looked as inviting as a cesspool. Meg couldn’t imagine dipping her toes in there, no less actually swimming.
Connor and Meg knocked on the front door, impatiently waiting for an answer. They were met with complete silence. Connor tried again. Meanwhile, Meg worried she’d have to go around back and conjure up a spell to get Kenny to come out. Luckily, Kenny finally came to the door. He did not give them a warm welcome.
Kenny looked bedraggled. His short black hair was tussled, his beard was scraggy, his blue eyes were bloodshot, and he appeared to be wearing day-old clothes. Over his shoulder, Meg saw nearly a dozen empty beer bottles on the coffee table in his living room. Meg would say that he had a serious bender last night, but it didn’t look like it had ended yet.
“Wait a minute, you’re not the pizza guy,” Kenny said.
“No, I’m not,” Connor answered, sternly.
Kenny went to close the door on Connor and Meg. Connor held his arm out and stopped him.
“Hey, what’s the big idea?” Kenny asked.
Connor showed him his police badge. “Not so fast. We have some questions to ask you.”
Kenny groaned. “All right, let’s get this over with.”
“Can we come inside?” Connor asked.
Kenny then swung the door open. “Suit yourself.”
Kenny went inside, plopped down on a ripped, thrift store couch, and popped open another beer.
Meg and Connor followed him in.
“Want to take a seat?” Kenny asked.
For once, Meg was happy just standing. The term rat trap apartment came to mind as she looked around. If that wasn’t enough, there was an unmistakable odor wafting from the kitchen; that of old garbage.
Connor elected to stand as well. He went right into the questioning. “Kenny, do you know why we’re here?”
“No clue,” Kenny answered.
“Your former boss, Walter Newman, was murdered last night,” Connor revealed.
“No kidding? Who offed him?” Kenny replied.
“That’s what we’re here to try and find out,” Connor said.
“Well, I didn’t have anything to do with it,” Kenny replied.
“You certainly had reason to,” Connor said.
Kenny went from laid back to testy in a hurry. “Now, wait a minute, I invite you into my house, and this is how you repay me, by trying to accuse me of murder?”
“We’re just trying to gather the facts,” Connor said.
With his inebriation, Kenny was losing his ability to keep his cool. “Then go do it somewhere else. This is crazy.”
“Not before we get our questions answered. Now, where were you last night between eleven and midnight?” Connor asked.
“Where do you think, man? These beers didn’t drink themselves. I was right here chugging away,” Kenny answered.
“Were you alone?” Connor replied.
“Unfortunately,” Kenny grumbled.
“What do you mean, unfortunately?” Connor said.
“I mean, it would have been better to be partying with my girlfriend,” Kenny replied.
“So, you’re saying you don’t have anyone to verify your alibi then?” Connor asked.
“Look, man, I didn’t kill Walter,” Kenny snapped.
“I’d watch that attitude of yours if I were you,” Connor warned.
As Connor stared him down, Kenny could see that the detective meant business.
With the increasingly hostile vibe in the room, Meg looked to take the discussion in a new direction.
“Back to this girlfriend of yours, why weren’t you two partying together last night?” Meg asked.
Kenny looked down and stared at his beer. “We broke up.”
&nb
sp; “You mean, she left you?” Meg replied.
“Rub it in, why don’t you?” Kenny said.
“Is this because of the fight you had at the store before you got fired yesterday?” Meg asked.
“Something like that,” Kenny replied.
“What is it exactly like?” Meg wondered.
“It doesn’t matter. I didn’t kill Walter, all right?” Kenny said.
“You say that, but why should we believe you? You have no alibi and plenty of motive,” Meg replied.
“A lot of people hated Walter,” Kenny argued.
“True, but you’re the only one who lost their girlfriend and their job yesterday. Speaking of, what were you and your girlfriend arguing about when those unseemly words were said in front of that group of kids,” Meg said.
“I don’t really want to talk about this,” Kenny replied.
“We can either talk about it here or at the station,” Connor stated.
Kenny sighed. “My girlfriend left me because she didn’t think I was making anything out of my life.”
“Can you blame her? You’re a thirty-two-year-old who dressed up in a Doxie J. Savings costume for a living,” Connor said.
“That’s not my fault, man,” Kenny replied.
“Then whose fault is it?” Connor asked.
It wasn’t often Meg was happy that a suspect was intoxicated. This was one of them. Alcohol was known for lowering inhibitions. It made a person looser. That’s just what happened with Kenny right then.
“Walter,” Kenny replied.
Kenny immediately regretted his answer the minute it came out of his mouth. There was no going back now, no matter how hard he tried.
“How so?” Connor asked.
“Forget about it,” Kenny deflected.
Connor pressed on. “How so?”
“I could have made something of myself, but Walter kept holding me back. He didn’t want me to advance. He’d been looking to get rid of me ever since I exposed his affair, but he had no legitimate reason to fire me until that argument with my girlfriend happened yesterday,” Kenny revealed.
Witch Cozy Mystery Nine Book Set Page 37