CHAPTER THREE #2
While we ate, I explained the situation. Nash jotted down what little personal information I had on Sawyer and Shelby and their places of employment. I recounted my conversation with Ruth, and he nodded in approval that she was filing a report on the theft.
However, when it came to the stealing of the grimoire, I simply told him that it was a valuable antique book—and left it at that. He didn’t need to know that it was an ancient Fae manuscript that had been pilfered.
Not that he would have believed me. He was still getting used to the reality of Witches and magick. I doubted he’d take it well if I told him there were other races of Supernaturals in the world.
Nash rolled his chair over to the other side of his desk that held a massive computer and began typing. “The murder of the roommate, Tadd, was reported yesterday afternoon, you said? Do you know his last name?”
“No, sorry I don’t.”
“And to confirm, you found out about the theft of the Witches Ball funds this morning? After your meeting with Montgomery?”
“Yes,” I said. “That’s right. Ruth called me after I left the meeting to tell me about the Witches Ball account.” I paused as he shook his head. “As I said, Nash, it’s been a hell of a day.”
Nash opened up a Word document and began typing from the notes he’d taken earlier. “Give me a second. I want to make sure that I have all of this straight in my head, and the timeline.”
“I understand,” I said. “I imagine Ruth is at the police department by now.”
“Okay,” he said, typing away. A minute later he got online and entered in a web address.
I could see his computer screen from where I sat. There was a logo at the top of the new page he’d opened, and it appeared to be a police department website. I opened my mouth to question how he had access to that but decided asking might be rude.
Nash turned his head toward me. “Charles Montgomery was the one to find the body?”
“Yes. He told me he’d gone to confront Sawyer about the theft and when he arrived the door was already open, but Sawyer wasn’t there.”
“Dude’s lucky he’s friends with the DA. Anybody else would have been down at the station a hell of a lot longer, considering he was confronting his employee about theft.”
“He said that he didn’t discuss the theft with the police. Instead, he told them that he was dropping by the house because Sawyer hadn’t shown up for work, and he hadn’t heard from him for a few days.”
“So, Montgomery didn’t lie...he just didn’t tell the cops the whole truth either.” Nash shook his head.
“He did mention to me that he’d spent some time establishing his alibi to the police.”
“Ha!” Nash grinned. “I bet that annoyed the hell out of him.”
Even though I agreed, I didn’t respond and simply took a sip of my soft drink.
Nash hit a button on his keyboard and pages began to print. “I’ll see what I can find for you about Sawyer Weston and Shelby Murphy. But Lorna, surely you realize that the police are doing the same thing too.”
“Understood.”
“Once the information about Shelby clearing out that bank account hits, they’ll look even harder at her.”
I nodded. “Good.”
“Can I ask what your relationship was with Shelby?”
“She acted as a secretary for me, in regard to the community activities. Typed up notes from meetings and later emailed them to me. Shelby was often involved in the running of larger events and festivals...sometimes acting as treasurer.”
“Which was why she had access to the Witches Ball bank account.”
“Yes, she and the ball’s chairwoman, Ruth Thomas.”
Nash swiveled back to his computer and noted that as well. “Was it common knowledge that Shelby held those positions within the Witch community?”
“To the leaders of the covens, yes.”
Leaning back in his chair, he asked, “So what are you not telling me?”
I made sure to keep my expression neutral. “I’ve told you everything pertinent.”
“I gotta call bullshit, Lorna.” One side of his mouth kicked up. “You and me, we’ve been friends—good friends—for the past couple of years.”
I nodded. “Ever since I helped you with that neighborhood and all of the paranormal disturbances. You were convinced that the homeowners were running some sort of scam...”
“Last thing I ever expected to discover was that the builder had cut corners,” he said. “Paving the community walking path for his fancy subdivision right over an old cemetery.”
Now, I smiled. “Your reaction was so cute when I got out my dowsing rods and began to walk the path and pointed out where all of the graves were.”
“Cute?” He winced at that. “Suppose it’s better than you saying I was ‘freaked out’ or ‘afraid’ when all the thunder and lightning started—from a clear sky—and you began having conversation with ghosts.”
“For a mundane with no prior experience with hauntings, I thought you handled yourself very well.”
“Wildest thing I ever saw,” he admitted with a light laugh. “Probably would have taken that whole thing better if it hadn’t been at night, during a full moon.”
“Good times,” I agreed.
“But because of you, and your witchy abilities, I started digging—no pun intended—”
“Nash.” I rolled my eyes at the bad joke.
“Into the history of the area,” he said, straight faced, “and found the old surveyor’s map that clearly showed where the old cemetery had once been.”
I picked back up my soft drink. “It takes a special sort of sleazeball to remove headstones and leave the bodies behind to try and save himself some money.”
“Well, in the end, justice was served,” he said. “It certainly moved the process along when the builder had a bit of an emotional breakdown and made a full confession to the police.”
“Karma’s a bitch,” I said sweetly.
“Don’t suppose your witchcraft had anything to do with his sudden need to confess it all?”
I shrugged.
“See that’s what I mean,” Nash said, pointing at me. “Sometimes what you don’t say, says more than what you actually do.”
I took a sip of my soft drink and stayed quiet.
“I saw the video of the builder’s confession, Lorna. He was damn near hysterical talking to the police. Claiming the ghosts from the cemetery had been haunting him…that visions of zombies were tormenting him.”
“How dramatic.” I straightened my glasses. “Guilt will do that to a person, or so I’ve heard.”
Nash threw back his head and laughed. “Damn, but you have a mean streak. It’s one of the reasons we’re friends.”
“We’d be better friends if you’d give me another one of those tacos,” I said, completely serious.
He slid the container across the desk, closer to me. “Here you go, pal.”
“Thanks, buddy.” I scooped up a taco.
“I would imagine the Witch community is going to be all up in arms once the word hits that one of their own has stolen from them,” he said.
“Yes, they will.” I pulled out the onions from this taco as well before taking a bite. “I don’t even want to think about the chaos that’s about to be unleashed by dozens of Witches casting for justice as well as having their money returned.”
“How do you mean?” Nash asked.