The Old Witcheroo (7 page)

Just as I was about to go and grab the door, Dana latched onto my hand, his grip tight and urgent. “
I did not murder Sophia, Stevie
. I loved her. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with…her,” he choked out with obvious effort. “I did not kill her.”

And I knew in my gut he was telling the truth. So I squeezed his hand back. “I know that, Dana. I know. Now, sit tight.”

Making my way to the front door, again, I hesitated. At this point, if Satan showed up with a wrist corsage and a limo to take me to prom, it wouldn’t surprise me.

I pressed my cheek to the door and called out, “Who is it?”

“Ebenezer Falls Police Department,” a familiar voice said.

“Dove? I shall have Belfry call Luis as a just in case,” Win reassured.

“Thank goddess for you and Bel,” I whispered before I opened the door and found Officer Gorton, Dana’s partner, standing outside, equally as sweaty, looking much the way Dana and Sandwich did—utterly exhausted. His sweet, youthful face completely devastated.

“What can I do for you tonight, Officer Gorton?”

“We’d like you to come down to the station so we can ask you some questions, please, Miss Cartwright.” He asked the question with a tone that said, “I’m begging you, lady. Don’t make this difficult.”

But I’d been to this rodeo. They were going to grill me like a burger on a barbecue about finding Sophia, and about Dana asking to borrow the rowboat. Likely, my two favorite detectives were going to host the grilling.

Now I was almost glad Dana didn’t tell me any other details about his evening with Sophia. If I didn’t know anything, when Good Cop/Bad Cop shined that light in my eyes and shot off questions like they were part of a firing squad, I could answer truthfully that I had no idea what they were talking about.

“Of course you would. Will Starsky and Hutch be in attendance? Gosh, I hope so. They’re the best interrogators ever. I get all warm and fuzzy just thinking about our time together.”

Officer Gorton’s gentle face, a fine sheen of sweat on his brow, frowned as he rocked back on his heels. “I’m sorry…who, Miss Cartwright?”

“Never mind. Just let me get my purse, okay? Wait here, please.” I turned and made a break for the kitchen, only to find Dana was gone, but he’d scribbled a note on my list of details about Sophia.

Will be in touch with you tomorrow. And number two is spot on. Good eye, Miss Cartwright. D. Nelson

I scanned the item I’d listed as number two, which was the cause of death—a gunshot wound to the heart and my ramblings about the approximate time it had occurred.

Goddess, I hated this day.

* * * *

I sat in the interrogation room of the Eb Falls Police Department, with its soothing mint green walls and stark décor, and sighed forlornly. The more time I spent here waiting for Detective Montgomery to stop stalling and start asking questions, the less time I was devoting to finding Sophia’s killer.

In truth, I really didn’t understand why I was asked to come in for more questioning. You’d think the statement I’d given at the beach would be enough. But I got the feeling the killer’s trail was as cold for them as it was for me, and in order to show their superiors they were at least making an effort, they’d hauled me back in because I’m easy prey.

But it wasn’t going to be so easy this time. I was no longer petrified ex-witch Stevie Cartwright with no money and no home to call my own, like I’d been the first go ’round.

I knew the score now. I am human, hear me roar.

“So, Miss Cartwright, long time no see,” Detective Ward Montgomery drawled with an ultra-pleasant smile.

If I haven’t mentioned, he’s Good Cop. Super friendly, wears a suit, mostly does a pretty good job of staying in a wheel of colors that suits him and his clear complexion. Very personable, far more Simone than Sipowicz (shout out to
NYPD Blue
—a favorite of mine).

I sighed, leaning my chin on the heel of my hand, barely able to keep my eyes open. “I think you just missed me. What other reason could you have for dragging me back in here when I’ve answered all your questions already?” I offered on a yawn, squinting at the harsh glare of the twin fluorescent lights above my head.

“How’s your summer going?” Detective Montgomery asked, his smooth delivery irking me.

“Oh, it’s all ice cream cones, Slip ’N Slides, and backyard grilling. How about you?” I asked. “Must be going pretty good if that lipstick smudge on your collar’s any indication.”

The corner of his mouth turned upward in a confident smirk. “Very well, thank you.”

“Good. Now that we’ve summed up our states of being, let’s get down to business, okay? I’m tired. I had a perfectly crappy day, as you darn well know, and I’d like to go home, take a shower, and maybe eat an entire box of Little Debbies before I pass out in a sugar coma, which will hopefully help me forget what I saw this afternoon. You don’t need to worm your way into my good graces by being personable and doing that whole relating-to-the-possible-suspect thing with me, because I have nada to relate. It’s all just a game anyway, and we’ve played it before. So let ’er rip.”

He flipped open the manilla file he had, and I prayed hard he wouldn’t show me pictures of Sophia post mortem. You know, to shock me into revealing something he thought I could be hiding.

Clucking his tongue, he said, “Says here, you found Miss Fleming.”

“You already know I found her, Detective Simone. You were there. I’m the one who called 9-1-1. C’mon,” I chastised in mock sarcasm. “You can do better than this. Get Detective Moore in here. Surely he hasn’t yelled at anyone today. At least he’s entertaining. I especially like when he clenches his fist in rage. It makes that hula dancer tat on his forearm wiggle.”

Closing the folder, Detective Montgomery sighed in what sounded distinctly like resignation. “Okay. I get the you’ve-been-here-before thing. You’re not a suspect, if that’s what you’re thinking. We just want to ask you some questions—go over everything again.”

“Shoot, is Luis ever gonna be mad at
you
for making him leave that swanky club he was having dinner at with his wife. Were I you, I’d preempt his arrival by at the very least getting him a gift certificate to Chili’s. You know, to ease the pain, and maybe even your suffering when he gives you the Luis Lipton tongue-lashing special. Because baby back ribs soothe ruffled feathers, don’t you think?” I rubbed my belly and winked.

Just then, the door to the interrogation room burst open. Yay. Bad Cop, Sean Moore, had arrived. He yanked the chair out beside Detective Montgomery, plunked down in it, and glared at me with those ice chips he passed off as eyes.

Which made me very inappropriately laugh out loud.

“What’s so funny, Cartwright?” he growled at me, his tight black T-shirt rippling atop his mounds of muscle. I was endlessly fascinated by this act he portrayed. The clothes he wore that screamed,
I’m just one of you—a real man of the people
, the spitting, hissing, hardcore questions.

I covered my mouth until I composed myself. Then I leaned forward on the metal table and peered at him with questioning eyes. “Do you like kittens, Detective Moore? Rainbows? Hallmark Channel movies?”

“
What
?” he bellowed in my face with enough force to lift my bangs off my forehead.

But I just smiled at him and winked. “I know this is all an act—this hardened detective thing you do. Secretly, you’re soft and gooey on the inside. Like a toasted marshmallow. Speaking of marshmallows, I’m starving. So could we get on with this, please? I already know I’m not a suspect. The cat’s out of the bag. There’s no reason for you to bust an artery over little old me.”

Detective Montgomery held up a hand to indicate he’d had enough, then he cleared his throat. “Did Officer Dana Nelson come to your house yesterday and ask to borrow your rowboat?”

“Yep.”

“What time?”

“I’m not one hundred on this, so don’t quote me, but it was well after lunch. I know because I was still a little gassy from the frozen burrito I had, but before dinner, because the gas had passed and my stomach was starting to growl.”

Honest. I was telling them the truth. I really couldn’t remember the exact time.

“
What time
, Miss Cartwright?” Detective Moore spat, drumming his knuckles on the metal table.

“Do you have TMJ?” I asked him, cocking my head to the left.

Clearly I’d caught him off guard, because he looked at me like I’d just sprouted a forked tongue. “TM who?”

“TMJ. You know, it’s when your jaw locks up and pains you. Especially when you chew the flesh off the bones of your enemies.”

Detective Moore rubbed a hand over his jaw, his expression suddenly confused. “Why do ya wanna know?”

“Because you clench your teeth all the time with all that snarling. I just figured you probably suffered from TMJ, too. You should see your dentist.”

Detective Moore sighed, his aggravation loud and clear. “What time did Officer Nelson ask to borrow the boat, Miss Cartwright?”

“I’m not sure. Before dinner’s the best I have to offer.”

Detective Montgomery lifted his chin. “What did he say to you? Did he tell you why he wanted to borrow the rowboat?”

I’d told them all this when they’d questioned me at the beach. “Sure. He said ‘I need to borrow your rowboat, Stevie. I’m going to kill Sophia. But I promise I’ll have it back before dawn’.”

“
Miss Cartwright
…” Detective Montgomery warned, shifting in his chair and dropping the pen he held.

Oooo, if Good Cop was getting annoyed, I’d better not push my luck.

So I quirked another smile at them. “Oh, fine. I already told you this at the beach today, but if your note-taking skills have gone awry, I’ll reiterate. He just said he wanted to take Sophia out in my rowboat and he’d have it back to me sometime later that evening.”

Detective Moore demanded, “Did you even ask why he wanted to borrow it?”

“Um, pretty girl plus handsome guy, plus googly eyes when their gazes meet, plus been dating for several months usually equals
date
. I didn’t have to be a detective like you fine, upstanding gentleman to figure it out. I’m the unmath, under normal circumstances, but this one was a no-brainer. So no, I didn’t pry, if that’s what you mean.”

“I’d think most people would ask when someone wants to borrow their property.”

I snorted with derision as I shook my head at Detective Montgomery’s statement. “Seriously, guys? This is the best you’ve got? He didn’t ask to borrow my Lambo or an ovary. He asked to borrow a rickety, old, barely seaworthy rowboat, for gracious sakes. Not to mention he’s a
police officer
. There’s a certain amount of trust that instills. Unless what you’re saying is I shouldn’t trust the men in blue? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Knock it off, Cartwright,” Detective Moore groused, cracking his burly knuckles and neck in simultaneous pops.

Letting my head hang low to contain my impatience, I counted to five and prayed they wouldn’t ask me about the marriage proposal Dana hadn’t told anyone about but me.

Detective Montgomery nudged his partner and plastered that smile back on his face. “Did Officer Nelson appear out of sorts to you yesterday? Angry? Sad?”

“He seemed like Officer Nelson. You know, the way he always seems. In complete control, impeccably dressed. He was neither upset nor angry, or displaying any extreme behaviors. He was polite and succinct. I mean, we talked for like a total of three minutes. It was no big deal.”

Because in all honesty, it wasn’t. I neglected to mention how his eyes twinkled and you could fairly hear his heart singing, but these two wouldn’t understand emotions like that due to their Mesozoic era mindsets. I kept the birds singing in a circle around Dana’s head and the flutter of angel wings to myself.

Detective Montgomery sat back in his chair and nodded. “Okay then. Have you noticed anyone unusual hanging around your neck of the woods?”

“You mean on my private stretch of beach? No. Sometimes old man Hinkle passes out drunk in my boat, but that’s about it.”

“Have you ever heard Dana Nelson and Sophia Fleming argue?” Detective Moore pressed, clenching his fists.

“Also negative, boys. I saw Sophia when I went to the library. Sometimes at Strange Brew, or the diner when I’m grabbing a quick meal between clients. She was always smiling and kind—even when she told me I’d racked up a twenty-dollar bill on overdue library books. I see Officer Nelson when I’m sticking my nose into one of his investigations, which, by the by, he keeps a tight lid on. In case you’re wondering about his integrity as an officer. And whenever I saw the two of them together, they were always laughing and happy.
Happy
. Got that? There was never any discourse I was aware of.”

Detective Montgomery flicked his pen top in annoying fashion. I was grating on his nerves, without doubt. He probably wanted to go see whomever that lipstick stain belonged to as much as I wanted to see the bottom of a can of Pringles. “Did you hear anything last night?”

I shook my head. Anyone who knew me knows that isn’t a surprise. “Nothing. I sleep like I’m in a coma. I didn’t see anything. I didn’t hear anything. I didn’t suspect anything was wrong between Officer Nelson and Sophia, or have any reason to suspect something
could
go wrong. I didn’t see anything until today, when my dog found her purse, which was what led me to look inside my boat.”

They both stared at me. Okay, so Detective Montgomery stared. Detective Moore glared at me some more, as if the evil eye would compel me to confess something I’d purposely avoided telling him.

But what else was there left to ask? I was officially a dead-end lead.

As we sat in the uncomfortable silence, I heard voices from outside the door just before my lawyer, Luis Lipton, stuck his head inside, narrowed his gaze at my surly detective friends, and pursed his lips.

“Ah, gentleman. We meet again. I’ll assume you’re done with my client, from the resounding silence I’m greeted with?”

Detective Moore used the heel of his hands to push off from the table with a snarl. “Yeah, we’re done with her.”