Ax to Grind (9 page)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Connor put a squad car on Sebastian and Daphne to monitor all their movements.  As much as it seemed like Meg and Connor were finally getting somewhere, they were still just far enough away from getting the big break in the case they’d been looking for.  The sleuths wanted to build an ironclad, slam dunk of a case with no loose ends.  As suspicious and unbelievable as Sebastian and Daphne’s story was, the case against them was still not a lock.  Besides, there was still another suspect to question. 

Perhaps with Wyatt Wakefield, the sleuths would finally get the clarity they’d been seeking.  Meg and Connor drove over to Wyatt’s rental townhome to question him with their guards up.  Even though he was the final suspect on their list, he had just as strong of a motive as all the others. 

Meg and Connor also wondered what awaited them on the other side of that front door.  Given the explosive nature of the previous interviews, the sleuths expected nothing but trouble from Wyatt.  That’s why they were so surprised when he opened the door after one short round of knocking. 

Wyatt was as mild-mannered as could be.  Very low key.  Meg almost felt like she had to check him to make sure he had a pulse.  He was a stark contrast not only to the other suspects, but also the stereotype of the boisterous, outgoing theater geek.  Wyatt was a bespectacled, scrawny, introspective man in his late twenties that looked like he could blend in with wallpaper if given the chance. 

The biggest surprise of all was when Connor mentioned they had come to ask him a few questions about his father’s murder.

Wyatt did not become agitated or defensive.  Instead, he politely replied.  “I’ll help you in any way I can.”

Meg had never seen a murder suspect look so calm.  That could change at any moment, especially given the topic at hand. 

Meg and Connor had one advantage in questioning Wyatt.  They were privy to information he may not have realized.  Public knowledge was that Ethan had bought the theater to stage Paige Wakefield’s play.  Paige had revealed to the sleuths that Ethan changed his mind at the last minute and gave Wyatt’s play the go-ahead instead.   

With that insider information, Meg had the opportunity to play around.  “It must have really been really tough, finding out your father chose to stage your mother’s play instead of yours.”

With the mere mention of Paige Wakefield, Wyatt’s calm demeanor disintegrated.  He didn’t answer the question, but rather corrected Meg.  “Paige isn’t my mother.  She’s my stepmom.”

Wyatt had a complicated upbringing.  His birth mother died when he was seventeen.  His first stepmother, Daphne Scott, came into his life when he was nineteen.  Ethan and Daphne divorced when Wyatt was twenty-five.  Then, when Wyatt turned twenty-eight, he found himself with a second stepmom, Paige Wakefield.  In the year and a half since Paige and Ethan tied the knot, Wyatt hadn’t warmed up to his stepmom in the least.  The fact that they were both aspiring playwrights only fueled the contention between them, rather than harmony. 

The mention of his stepmother put Wyatt on edge.  That’s where Meg wanted him.  If he got distracted by his dislike of Paige, maybe he’d unwittingly let his guard down enough to let some vital information slip.  Sometimes a suspect just needed a little push to be thrown over the edge.

“Right, I’m sorry, your stepmom.  You two don’t get along, do you?” Meg asked. 

Wyatt was as blunt as could be with his answer.  “I hate her, and she hates me.”

Both Meg and Connor were taken back by Wyatt’s candid hostility. 

“You’re really making no bones about that, huh?  I’m surprised you’re not even trying to keep that secret,” Connor said. 

“Secrets are a waste of time.  That’s why I don’t bother with them,” Wyatt replied. 

“In that case, why don’t you answer my question?” Meg suggested. 

“What was it again?” Wyatt replied. 

“It must have really burned you to find out your dad chose to stage your stepmom’s play over yours,” Meg said. 

This was the moment of truth.  Would Wyatt come clean and reveal that Ethan Wakefield had changed his mind at the last minute, or would he take Meg’s bait with the lie she’d just told?

“Of course it burned me.  But in the end, he made the right choice by changing his mind and deciding to stage my play instead of Paige’s,” Wyatt revealed. 

Maybe Wyatt truly didn’t keep any secrets.  Meg expected him to lie.  She almost couldn’t believe he came clean without being forced into a corner. 

Meg raised her eyebrows at Connor. 

The detective took the lead.  “That’s an interesting development.”

“No, my dad just finally came to his senses,” Wyatt declared. 

“What was your relationship with your father like?”

“It had its ups and downs.  He wasn’t exactly a loving father.  He preferred to spend his time chasing women,” Wyatt replied. 

“What made him decide to stage your play then instead of his wife’s?” Connor asked.

“The only thing he loved more than women, was money.  He wasn’t the king of carpet sales for nothing, and he wasn’t going to rest until he became the king of theater in Enchanted Bay too.  He chose my play because it was more marketable than the one my stepmom wrote,” Wyatt revealed. 

“This sudden change of heart your father had.  How soon before he was murdered did he make it?” Connor wondered. 

“How should I know?  I didn’t murder him,” Wyatt replied.

“We’ll be the judge of that,” Connor said. 

Meg stepped in.  “Wyatt, where were you between eleven and midnight?”

“I was at Al’s Diner having a celebratory slice of pie,” Wyatt said. 

“Do you have anyone to verify it?” Meg asked. 

Wyatt reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.  “This should be all the verification you need.”

Wyatt then grabbed a receipt from his wallet and handed it to Meg.  She read it over.  The receipt was from Al’s Diner and listed a slice of pie on it that was time-stamped right in the window where the murder had occurred. 

Meg couldn’t believe it. When it came to motive, Wyatt seemed to be at the top of the list.  Yet, he suddenly had an alibi.  There was no denying that.  It was right there on the receipt. 

She handed it to Connor, and he was in just as much disbelief as her.  Connor kept staring at the receipt, double and triple checking the numbers, but they all added up. 

“See.  I told you I didn’t do it,” Wyatt said. 

“You certainly did,” Connor replied, still in disbelief. 

Since Wyatt seemed to be in such a candid mood, Meg decided to take advantage of that. 

“If you didn’t do it, who do you think did?” she asked. 

Wyatt fired back.  “Isn’t that your job to find out?”

“What about your stepmom?”

“I wouldn’t put anything past her,” Wyatt replied.

“She’s convinced Daphne Scott did it,” Meg said.

This was a hot button topic for Wyatt.  His current stepmom accusing his former stepmom of murder.  How would he react?

“Like I said, I wouldn’t put anything past Paige, including trying to throw someone else under the bus,” Wyatt replied. 

“Not just anyone; your old stepmom.  What’s your relationship like with Daphne Scott?” Meg asked. 

“We don’t have one.  She didn’t just dump my dad.  She cut both of the Wakefield’s out of her life,” Wyatt explained. 

“Do you think Daphne is capable of murder?” Meg wondered. 

“In the right circumstances, anyone is.  Except me, of course,” Wyatt said. 

Wyatt had an alibi on his side but still looked suspicious to Meg.  It was almost too clean cut. 

Meg gave him a weak smile.  “Of course.”

“Anyway, it has been a long day for me.  I’m still trying to get over the shock that my father is actually gone.  So if there’s nothing else, I’d like to go back inside now,” Wyatt revealed. 

When Wyatt closed the door, both Meg and Connor stood on his doorstep in shock for a few moments.  Of all the twists in this case, the fact that Wyatt Wakefield had a verifiable alibi seemed to come as the biggest surprise.  They both took a deep breath, composed themselves, and headed back to Connor’s car with their heads spinning. 

Chapter Twenty-Four

After a day of non-stop interviews, it was dizzying trying to keep up with the lies, twists, and double crosses.  By the time they got done with questioning Wyatt Wakefield, both Meg and Connor’s brains were like wet rags.  It was more than just the emotional exhaustion that had caught up with them.  Their frustration was getting ready to boil over.   

“I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to call it a day.  My brain is pudding right now,” Meg said. 

Connor’s taste buds started acting up.  “Please don’t say pudding.”

“What’s the matter, you hungry?”

“Are you kidding?  I’m starved.  Nothing gets my appetite going quite like detective work.”

“Maybe dinner is just the brain food we need—with some dessert thrown in, of course.”

Just when Meg thought she’d seen her last surprise for the afternoon, another one came her way.

“Actually, I should be heading back to the station.  There are some things I need to follow up on, not to mention some loose ends I don’t want to keep dangling any longer.” 

Meg tried not to sound too deflated.  “Oh.”

“I’m sure I’ll be completely ravenous by the time I’m done.  If you can wait that long, I’d be happy to take a rain check,” Connor said. 

Meg smiled.  “It’s a deal.”

***

Connor dropped Meg off at home, where Penelope gave her a warm greeting.  Meg’s grandma, now turned talking cat, knew how to butter her up for food, but there was more than just hunger in her voice right then. 

“How was your day?” Penelope the talking cat said. 

“Don’t ask,” Meg replied. 

“Too late.  I just did,” Penelope replied, playfully.

Meg prepared a bowl of food for Penelope, and then crashed on her welcoming, plushy couch. 

For once, Penelope actually skipped eating briefly to try and turn Meg’s mood around. 

“Has the case got you down?” Penelope asked. 

Meg furrowed her brow.  “How do you know about the case?”

Penelope opened her eyes wide as could be.  “Have you forgotten the gossip-loving relative we have in common?”

Meg snickered.  “Is there anything mom doesn’t tell you?”

“I doubt it.”

Meg laughed.   

“She’s just worried about you,” Penelope explained. 

“I’ll be fine.  I just need some time to make sense of this case.”

“Why don’t you run the details by me?  I am a case-cracking expert, after all,” Penelope boasted, with the kind of confidence only a cat could get away with.

“Of TV mysteries,” Meg pointed out. 

Sure Penelope watched a lot of episodes of Detective Danger, but that didn’t mean she could cut it as a real life cat sleuth.  True crimes had some serious twists.  Besides, Meg just wanted some distance from the case to untie the knots in her head.   

“A mystery is a mystery,” Penelope insisted.

“Thanks, grandma, but right now, I want to talk about anything but this case.”

“Fair enough.  How about some news?”

“As long as it’s not TV news.  Those stories are always depressing.”

“How about the latest news from the rumor mill?” Penelope asked. 

Meg bit on that.  “Anything juicy?”

“According to your mother, Francine Heller came into the donut shop today complaining about having to work for a living.”

“Nothing like the stories of a down-on-her-luck former trophy wife,” Meg joked. 

“Yeah.  It’s safe to say she’s having a hard time coming to terms with life not being handed to her on a silver platter anymore.”

“Welcome to the real world.  Not everyone gets to go through life leeching off their rich husband.  It turns out sometimes you actually have to work for things,” Meg cracked.

“To be fair, she has had an insane fall from grace since Max Donovan left her for his secretary.  She went from being on top of the Enchanted Bay social scene to waking up in the gutter. It’s a shock to go from easy street to hard luck alley in the blink of an eye,” Penelope said. 

“Speaking of easy street, how’s the hardscrabble life of a fat housecat treating you?” Meg joked. 

“Let’s just say, I’m looking forward to eight more lives of this.  It’s intoxicating being waited on, hand and paw.  Hint, hint, tuna, tuna.”

Meg shook her head in disbelief.  “You’re so spoiled.  It’s hard to believe you were once so down-to-earth.”

“Things change when you get pampered. And let me tell you when life comes this easy, it’s hard to imagine living any other way.”

Penelope thought she’d just made an innocuous joke.  It was anything but.  Her statement triggered something in Meg’s mind.  It was like a lightbulb had gone off in her head.  Throughout the whole day, her brain was nothing but mush; a stew of conflicting thoughts.  Suddenly, everything was crystal clear. 

“That’s it,” Meg declared. 

Penelope was confused.  “What are you talking about?”

Meg smiled.  “I know who killed Ethan Wakefield.”