A Hint of Magic (14 page)

Sam looked upset now.  “I shouldn’t have gone home.  In retrospect, it was a bad decision.  I should have stayed.  I should have broken up the fight, even if it did make me seem like just another meddling cop.  If it wasn’t for me, maybe…”

Sam’s gaze was unflinching and his body language was unguarded.  Clarissa really wanted him to have shifty eyes or inconsistencies in his story.  But he seemed nothing but sincere.  Either he was the world’s greatest liar or she was pursuing the wrong guy.

“You can’t blame yourself,” she told him softly.

“I know,” Sam agreed.  “But I do anyway.  I’m a cop.  And up until that night, I thought I was a
good
cop.  But my complete lack of judgment at the party…ugh, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure you’re the best cop in town.”

The corners of Sam’s mouth twitched slightly at that.  “What’s your problem with the local police?” he asked with a touch of amusement.  “You have me completely terrified to start my new job, you know.”

“Ha!  Just be glad I’ve warned you.  Everyone else on the force is probably going to stand around eating donuts and waiting for you to do all the heavy lifting.  I think there’s a real problem with indifference on the force.  They’re all just in it for the paycheck and benefits.”

“I hope you’re exaggerating.”

“I wish I was.”

“Is that why you’re being so nosy?” Sam asked.  “I figured you were just a snoop.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You know what I mean.  Anyway, is there anything else you want to ask me?”

“I heard you and Amy got engaged,” she blurted out. 

It was an abrupt change of subject, sure.  But she figured his reaction would be telling.  If he had proposed to Amy to woo her and keep her from ratting him out, he likely wouldn’t show much interest in discussing his upcoming nuptials.  So Clarissa posed the question and then she waited with bated breath.

“Yeah, I did,” Sam confirmed, instantly softening. 

“Congratulations!”

“Thanks!” he smiled.

“You must be excited.”

“She’s the best thing that ever happened to me.  I couldn’t let her get away.  When you know you just know.  It sounds cliché but it really is the truth.”  He cleared his throat then, seemingly embarrassed to have been caught gushing.  “I should go.”

“So should I,” Clarissa replied.  “I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot,” she added.

“Me too,” he said.  With that, he turned and walked away.

Clarissa returned to her car on shaking legs, completely lost in thought.

Sam Swanson was definitely rough around the edges.  He was a ruggedly handsome, no nonsense cop with something to prove.  But as far as Clarissa could tell, he had answered her questions honestly and his answers had been consistent with what Amy had said. 

Furthermore, it was obvious he was completely in love with Amy.  The engagement was real.

Besides, Sam hadn’t murdered Clarissa right there in the street.  Surely if he was actually a killer and felt the walls were closing in on him, he would have taken the opportunity to stop her from snooping around anymore.

“Meow,” said the cat from its perch atop the car.

Clarissa opened up the driver’s side door and Cat hopped inside.

“I don’t know what to think anymore,” she confided.  “I’m afraid I might not be able to solve this one.”  There was something comforting about admitting her worst fear out loud, even if it was only to the cat.  It was strange how the annoying stray had slowly but surely head-butted its way into her life.  Now it was her confidante. 

“Meow,” Cat stated in response to Clarissa’s admission.  If Clarissa didn’t know better, she would have said there were undertones of sympathy in that one-syllable utterance.  Sometimes she could swear that cat was
a lot
smarter than it let on!

“If it’s not Sam who’s the killer, then what am I missing?”

The cat was looking at Clarissa very intently, as if hanging on her every word.

“Maybe Russ lied about skipping the party,” she told the cat, grasping at straws.

The cat did not look impressed.

“Could it be the three dimwits I went to high school with?  Petty jealousy over someone else’s success seems like such a stupid motive for murder.  But those guys are incredibly stupid.  They don’t think like logical human beings, so…maybe?  I don’t know.”

“Meow,” Cat said again. 

It was amazing how the same word, if one could call it a word, could mean so many different things.  This time the response was made in the demanding “feed me” tone that Clarissa knew all too well.  It was clear that the conversation was over – the only thing the cat wanted now was to be waited on hand and foot. 

Clarissa peered out into the darkness and shivered.  Impulsively, she locked the car doors as the cat walked around in circles before finally settling down on the front passenger seat.  Then the bright-eyed critter stared up at her expectantly.

“You’re right,” Clarissa agreed as she stuck the key in the ignition.  “We should go home.”

“You’re here,” Clarissa announced when Parker showed up the next day.  She had seen his car pulling up outside, so she had flung open the door before he’d even had a chance to knock. 

“I am.” 

“Come in,” she ordered, practically grabbing him by the shirt collar and dragging him inside.

“Whoa,” she heard Parker murmur under his breath once he got a look at her living room.  “I uh…love what you’ve done with the place.  What
is
all this?” he asked with a bewildered expression on his face.  “Have you suffered a mental break?”

“Ha, very funny,” Clarissa said dryly. 

Then she took a look around.  She had been so engrossed in what she had been doing that she hadn’t even noticed the way it had taken over her living room.  Papers full of scribbles adorned every surface.  Discarded, wadded up notes littered the floor.  Charts were taped to every wall. 

She had to admit, it kind of
did
look like she had suffered a mental break.

“What have you been doing?” Parker tried again.

“I’ve gone back over everything,” Clarissa explained.  “Things weren’t adding up, so I went right back to step one and started over.  Oh and by the way, Sam Swanson didn’t kill Greg.  So we can cross him off the list of suspects.”

“How do you know that?”

She averted her eyes.  “I, er, ran into him last night.”

“Clarissa.”  Parker’s voice was full of disapproval – and worry.  “I thought we agreed we were going to deal with him tonight, together.  You promised you wouldn’t go after him alone.”

“I know.  I didn’t mean to…he was out while I was running an errand and one thing led to another.  The next thing I knew, we were having a conversation about the Halloween party.”

Parker sighed and shook his head in defeat.  “I’m glad you’re okay.  What did Sam say?”

“He said he left the party as soon as the fight broke out.  Same thing Amy told me.”

“Yeah okay, but does he have an alibi?”

Clarissa hesitated.  “He went home.”

“He lives alone, right?”

“Uh huh,” she confirmed. 

Parker gave her an incredulous look.  “Sam’s lasso was found at the murder scene, he has no solid alibi and all we have to go on is what he and his fiancée are telling us.  What makes you so sure he isn’t lying?”

“He looked me in the eye.  He didn’t pause to think before he answered my questions.  Everything about him – his demeanor, his body language, his tone – tells me he’s being honest.”

“Clarissa, Sam is a cop.  He’s been trained to have a good poker face,” Parker pointed out. 

“You don’t have to believe me, but I know what I saw and heard.  My gut says Sam isn’t a killer.  We were wrong about him, Parker.  We’ve been wasting our time investigating him while the real murderer is still on the loose.”

“I don’t suppose you know who the real murderer is?”

“Well…no.  But we do know the killer was at the party that night.  Sam said he set his lasso down somewhere in the house.  So the killer must have picked it up at some point.  That means the killer was inside the house!”

“Greg could have picked the lasso up himself.”

Clarissa made a face.  “I hadn’t thought of that,” she admitted. 

“What about those morons you know from high school?”

Clarissa picked through various pieces of paper until she found the one she was looking for.  Then she presented Parker with a sheet of hastily written notes. 

“Here,” she said.  “This might be our answer as far as they’re concerned.”

Parker looked down at the words on the page and squinted.  “I can hardly even tell what you’ve written here,” he complained.  “You have really messy writing.  I mean, it’s truly horrible,” he laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Sorry I don’t use teeny tiny perfectly formed block letters like you do,” she retorted cheekily.  “Real grownups use cursive!  But okay fine, I won’t make you read what I wrote.  I’ll summarize it for you.”

“Thank you.”

“I made a list of every fight I could remember Zack, Mikey or Russ getting in back in high school.  They
always
picked on scrawny little weaklings.  They only ever instigated fights they knew they could win.”

“Well yeah, that’s what bullies do.  Why is that important?”  Parker looked puzzled.

“Do you really think they would have gone after Greg when they saw what great shape he was in?” Clarissa asked.  “Isn’t it more likely they took one look at him and cowered in the corner hoping he wouldn’t seek revenge for the way they treated him?”

“Maybe…but how do we know Greg didn’t initiate the fight?”

“I suppose we don’t,” Clarissa conceded.  “The Greg I knew back in high school never would have initiated a fight.  He wasn’t the fighting type.  But from everything I’ve heard, he changed a lot.  And his older brother said he got a lot more aggressive after he started taking steroids.”

“So maybe he started the fight.  He put Russ in his place and humiliated him.  Then later on when there were no witnesses around, those three buffoons ganged up on him.  Greg was stronger, sure.  But he also would have been outnumbered.”

“I don’t know,” Clarissa replied doubtfully.  “Those three were always the kind who picked fights for attention.  They liked to flaunt their so-called victories.  They liked to make everyone think they were big and tough and undefeatable.”

“Maybe this time they got caught up in the moment and went too far,” Parker suggested.

“I witnessed a confrontation or two back in high school.  They were always more interested in strutting around than in taking a fight too far.  There would be bloody noses and bruises, sure, but they always stopped to brag before things got worse than that.  Killing doesn’t seem like something they would do.”

“You said yourself that people can change,” Parker reminded her.  “Greg did.”

“I guess,” Clarissa said uncertainly.  “But I feel like we’re missing something.  Besides, it sounds like the night of the party all Greg was interested in was getting Amy’s attention.  He basically even abandoned his kid brother because he was so preoccupied.”

Clarissa’s head snapped up.

Parker met her gaze.

“Do you think it could be the brother?” she asked, wide-eyed. 

“It could be,” Parker replied, apparently thinking the same thing she was.

“We know Shane was at the party – I saw him myself when I got there,” she recalled, her words tumbling out faster and faster the more excited she became.  “He was standing outside by himself.  He wasn’t wearing a costume, either.”

“Maybe he took it off.”

“Yes!  He was out of his element.  He’s younger than almost everyone who was at the party, so he probably didn’t have anyone to hang out with.  He had tagged along with Greg, the brother he apparently idolized.  But Greg ended up ditching him to pursue Amy.  What if –”

“What if he was angry about being ignored?” Parker chimed in, speaking as rapidly as Clarissa was.  “Maybe anger issues run in the family, or maybe he’d had one beer too many and was out of control.  He rages silently for a while, the resentment at being ignored builds up –”

“And then he confronts Greg!” Clarissa exclaimed triumphantly.

“They argue and it turns physical.  The next thing you know, Greg is dead.”

“But Shane isn’t exactly in good shape,” Clarissa pointed out apologetically, her enthusiasm dwindling.  “He’s tall but he isn’t necessarily strong.  Do you think he would have been able to overpower Greg?  Shane is a videogame junkie, not a gym junkie.”

“Yeah, but maybe Greg started binge drinking after Amy ignored him.  Or maybe Shane caught Greg off guard and managed to tie him up.  If he got in a good hit from behind, then I can see how it may have been possible for Shane to gain the upper hand.”

“Good point.  It would be a fluke of sorts, but I suppose I could see it happening.”

“Since you seem convinced Sam isn’t our guy, this theory seems the most plausible.”

Parker still didn’t seem entirely convince that Sam Swanson was innocent, but Clarissa was glad he seemed willing to trust her instincts.  It was good to know he respected her opinion – and intuition – enough to do so.

“Do you still have a source at the police station?” Clarissa asked, hopeful that they might be able to rely on Parker’s news reporter connections.  “I’d love to know if they did a post-mortem on Greg.  If he was intoxicated, it supports our theory that Shane could have overpowered him.”

“Unfortunately, my source at the police station isn’t available right now,” Parker sighed.  “But you and I did both see the tail end of the initial fight ourselves.  I’ve seen belligerent drunks in action before.  Greg’s coordination didn’t seem to be impaired.”

“That’s true,” Clarissa agreed.  “So in all likelihood, the Greg-being-drunk scenario is wrong.  So what actually happened, then?  How did Shane manage to overpower Greg?  Was it dumb luck or something else?  We need more information.  We have to talk to Shane again.”

“Should we head over there now?” Parker suggested.

She shook her head.  “Today is the day of Greg’s funeral,” she informed him.

She knew because she had printed the announcement in her newspaper.  And speaking of newspapers, hers needed attention.  As usual, Clarissa was swamped.  It seemed her work was never ending.  The second she got caught up, another week had passed and another deadline was looming.  It was exhausting, not to mention time-consuming.

“Well I guess I should go,” Parker announced. 

“Oh.  Okay.”

Clarissa had
tons
of work to do.  But even so, she felt a pang of reluctance when Parker announced he was leaving.  Having him in her house was nice.  It was so much better than turning the TV up loud to drown out the deafening silence. 

And unlike the cat, Parker actually paid attention to her when she spoke – in fact, he hung on her every word.  He also refrained from unearthing her potted plants and using them as a litter box, which she appreciated.

She wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

Clarissa walked Parker to the door.  Once he was there, he stopped and turned to face her.  They stood there awkwardly in the entryway for what felt like a million years, staring into one another’s eyes. 

Clarissa became convinced Parker was going to kiss her, and her heart began to pound.

“Well, bye,” Parker said, abruptly tearing his gaze away.

“Oh!  Bye!” she barely managed to choke out.  She felt flushed.

She locked the door behind Parker.  Then she raced to the window to watch him get into his car.  When he drove away, she felt a sudden twinge of sadness.  It was weird.  She had started out hating the guy and now she wanted nothing more than to spend all her time with him. 

Clearly Parker was right:  she must have
experienced a mental break!