Unfortunately, in our excitement, it doesn’t occur to us until we get there that three women storming the travel agency might put Shauna on edge. Especially because I assume she was already stressed out over the death of her stepfather.
Imagine telling a person you wish they were dead and less than an hour later, they are. She must feel horrible. Unless, of course, she’s the one who did it.
I didn’t even realize travel agencies still existed. I guess some travelers prefer the personal touch of being able to sit in front of an expert discussing their plans and budget, rather than just signing up for a trip and entering their credit card number online.
“Hey, Shauna!” Aranya says as we tiptoe into the quiet travel agency. There’s elevator music playing softly in the background, set off by large, squishy-looking furniture. Perfect for relaxing and leafing through brochures and magazines that tell of far-off places.
Shauna smiles briefly at Aranya, but her smile wavers when she sees Miranda and me. “Hey Aranya, what’s up?” she asks hesitantly.
“I heard about your stepfather’s passing, and I wanted to check in to see how you are doing. And I brought my boss, Charlotte, and our friend Miranda, who owns the coffee shop across the street from Marcall’s. We didn’t think you should be alone right now.”
Not a bad excuse for someone who hasn’t done this as many times as Miranda and me.
Shauna scoffs, “I don’t care that he’s dead. In fact, I’m glad. And I already heard that Chloe, my dad’s former employee, poisoned him. Good for her. She should have done it a long time ago. In fact, I wish I would have thought of it.”
Not exactly the speech I was expecting. “Er, Chloe was arrested, but we don’t know for sure that she did it,” I remind her. I bite my tongue to keep from adding that I know it’s impossible that Chloe did it because I don’t want Shauna to realize that she’s a suspect in my mind.
“Whatever,” she responds with a shrug. “Morley was a vile person who didn’t deserve to live, and we’re all better off now that he’s gone.”
“Shauna, this may be indelicate, but I have to ask, why are you so happy that your stepfather is dead?” I fear that the question may get me thrown out of here, but I really want to know why she’s so bitter.
Shauna stands up at her desk, knocking several files to the floor in the process, while Miranda jumps forward to pick them up for her. “You seriously want to know why I’m glad he’s dead?” she asks, slamming her hands on the desk.
“Um, yes?” I ponder what I’ll do if she leaps over the desk to smack me a good one.
“I’ll tell you why. When he and my mother were married, he treated her like crap. I don’t know what she ever saw in him or why she even married him. He spent half their marriage drunk and the other half cheating on her without even trying to hide it!”
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize that,” I respond.
“Shauna, I have to ask, why do you think your mother stayed with him?” Miranda adds.
Shauna shakes her head angrily. “He was Mr. Nice Guy while they were dating. Paid all sorts of attention to her, wined and dined her; she was the center of the world. But then he married her and got control of her money. That’s when he turned nasty. And everybody warned her about him. Everybody else knew what he was really like, but she couldn’t see that in the beginning.”
“Did your mom have a lot of money?” Aranya asks. “Because I thought Morley was already extremely well off.”
Shauna plops back down onto her desk chair. “There was never enough money with Morley. He always needed more. And my dad’s life insurance policy was enough for my mom to pay off the house and not have to worry about the bills. Of course, Morley knew this because she told him all that while making the funeral arrangements for my dad. He knew exactly how to manipulate the newly widowed Mrs. Miller.”
“We couldn’t help but notice the argument you had with Morley at the Halloween Festival,” I point out. We’ve come this far, we might as well go all the way now.
“I’m pretty sure the entire town saw that,” she grumbles.
“Can we ask what it was about?” Miranda says.
“Dear old dad,” she responds, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “doesn’t approve of my dating Neil Doyle.”
“The waiter at the Hotel Glacier?” I turn to Miranda, who nods. “Why does he have a problem with Neil?”
“He’s a wizard, and Morley doesn’t approve of Supernaturals and Non Supernaturals mixing.”
“Oh,” is all I can think to say. Except now I’m extra mad. Morley is a jerk.
“Where did you go after you left the hotel?” Miranda asks.
“I came back here to work,” Shauna responds. “Neil was working the party, and I needed some space and wanted to cool off. I needed to be anywhere but at the hotel looking at Morley’s disgusting, smug face so I came back here.”
I have about one hundred other things I want to ask Shauna about her stepfather, but we’re interrupted by a couple looking to use the travel agency.
“Hi!” the woman says excitedly. “We need to plan our honeymoon, and we’re hoping you can help us.”
“Of course, I’d be delighted to help you with that,” Shauna says, rapidly switching from someone who was angrily celebrating her stepfather’s murder to a professional travel agent in the blink of an eye. “I’ll be with you in just a moment.”
She turns back to us, “Ladies, I don’t know your friend Chloe very well, but I know my stepfather treated her horribly when she worked for him like he did everyone else. And if she really killed him, then good for her, and she shouldn’t have to go to jail for killing the devil. But if you’re still looking for people who hated Morley enough to kill him, then I’d talk to Ethan Davis.
“Ethan works for your stepdad, right?” Miranda responds.
“And he also fought with Morley at the hotel last night,” I remind them.
“Morley used and abused Ethan the entire time they worked together. And I swear he fired him regularly just for sport. Just so he could hear Ethan grovel. If you really don’t think Chloe did it, he’s one you should talk to.”
“Thank you. We appreciate your help,” I tell her.
“We’ll be on our way then,” Aranya says, giving me a look that says we’re done here for now.
“Yes, of course, we don’t want to keep you from your work,” I exclaim. “We’re sorry to have bothered you.”
“No bother, have a lovely day, ladies,” she responds with a huge smile. Wow, that wasn’t weird at all.
The three of us file out of the travel agency and turn back to Marcall’s. I can only imagine what Drew would say if he realized we seem to have recruited Aranya into our efforts now.
“Now we know what prompted her to shout at him like that in front of everyone at the party last night.” Miranda starts off the discussion.
“She doesn’t seem to care who knows how much she hated him and wanted him dead, that’s for sure,” Aranya replies.
“And just when you think Morley couldn’t sink any lower, we find out that he doesn’t approve of Supernaturals and Non Supernaturals together. He’s disgusting.” I add.
“This is all really messed up,” Aranya says.
“Char, I keep meaning to ask, are you experiencing any psychic energy with this?” Miranda asks.
Aranya stops in the middle of the sidewalk, grabbing my arm. “You’re psychic? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It’s nothing like that,” I explain. “It’s just that sometimes I experience these bursts of psychic energy or something. We don’t even have a good word to describe it.” I shrug. “I don’t have them all the time and I can’t control them. It usually happens when there’s a lot of adrenalin and emotion involved. But to answer your question, Miranda, no, I haven’t experienced any of that yet. Not even a whisper.”
We file into Marcall’s only to find a very annoyed Damien waiting for us. “I can’t believe you two have sucked her into this,” he chastises.
“We didn’t mean to,” Miranda reminds him. “But since she actually knows Shauna, she was our best opportunity to get information from her.”
“All right then, out with it,” he says, passing around sample sizes of his latest dish.
“So, you don’t agree with the idea of us investigating who killed Morley, but you’re happy to hear about what we’ve learned?” I ask as I help myself to a bite. With Damien, we never know what new dish he expects us to try next. I pretty much just eat whatever he puts in front of me.
“I agree with Drew. You unnecessarily endanger yourselves when you interfere in CPPD investigations. I worry about you guys, okay, but since you’ve already done it, you might as well clue me in,” he explains as we all gather around a table, snacking on the special oatmeal he’s put in front of us.
“This is amazing, by the way. What is it?” Aranya asks.
Damien grins. He loves it when people enjoy his cooking. “It’s a savory oatmeal. My grandma always made it. Oatmeal, onion, green pepper, veggie broth, black beans, a bit of cumin, and plantains. A very stick to your ribs kind of breakfast, if you will.”
“You want to add this to the menu?” I ask.
“Let me tinker with it a bit,” he responds, like always does. If I let him ‘tinker with it for a bit,’ it will never make the menu, so I’ll just add it, anyway. He’s such a perfectionist, but that’s why the customers keep coming.
We explain Shauna’s blatant and loud hatred for her stepdad and how she makes no effort to hide any of it. But we also point out that she left the party after their fight and went back to work, so she wasn’t even there when Morley ate the poisoned cupcake.
“But her boyfriend Neil, who Morley disapproved of, is a waiter at the Hotel Glacier who worked that night.” Damien says, pointing out something the rest of us missed.
“She told us that,” I admit. “And he would have had access to Morley, I assume. And now you’re in on it with us!” I tell Damien as I smack him on the arm.
“Don’t remind me,” he says, shaking his head and getting up to take the empty sampling bowls back into the kitchen to wash, cursing softly in Spanish as I often drive him to do.