Chapter Twenty-four

That Was Mean

MILA

Mila stepped on the porch behind Riley, marveling at the fact that the snow under her feet wasn’t melting away and running down the front steps in steaming rivulets. She was boiling inside her coat, and she was sure some of the heat must be transferring to the surrounding environment. At the current rate of heated gazes she and Riley were sharing, Mila was sure they’d be one-hundred percent responsible for global warming.

But jumping gargoyles, if he didn’t stop looking at her like he had just now on the driveway—as if he wanted to get rid of all of their clothes and explore every inch of her body with his mouth—she might combust right there on the porch.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long for Mrs. Princeton to come to the door, even if she appeared slightly out of breath as she threw the door ajar.

She was wearing only a pastel winter robe and pale pink slipper boots. Her state of agitation visibly worsened as she took in the tall, unforgiving form of Riley presently standing on her doorstep with his bad-cop mask on.

A reaction Mila could sympathize with all too well.

Mrs. Princeton quickly straightened the lapels of her robe and flattened her blonde hair. “Morning, Detective,” she said.

The security guard at the gate must’ve alerted her of their arrival.

“Morning, Mrs. Princeton. I’m Detective King from Salem PD.” Riley flashed her his badge, and as it happened with all humans coming in contact with magical law enforcement, her eyes glazed over slightly—the incantation protecting the secrecy of the wizarding world working its magic. “And this is my associate, Detective Bennet.”

Not exactly factual, but Mila liked the ring her fake new title had.

“Good morning,” she greeted Mrs. Princeton in what she hoped sounded like a bad-cop voice.

Only Riley stared down at her with a puzzled look, so maybe she’d only greeted the suspect in a ridiculous voice.

Better let the expert conduct the interview, then.

“We would like to talk to you about the happenings of last night at Swift River Elementary, if you could spare a minute.”

“Sure. Please, Detectives, come on in.” She opened the door wider for them to enter.

The giant house seemed to be empty except for her and a mean-looking white cat lounging on the couch.

As if Mrs. Princeton had read Mila’s mind, she said, “My husband already went back to work.” She let out a high-pitched giggle. “Apparently a one-day holiday was already a stretch for him, and my kids are upstairs, doing who knows what? Can I offer you anything to drink? Tea, coffee?”

Riley politely declined, and Mila followed his lead.

They sat in the living room, and Mila took pains to give a wide berth to the white cat. Animals, contrary to humans, were far the wiser about the existence of magic and were better equipped to sense the presence of a witch or a wizard.

“What can I help you with, Detectives?” Mrs. Princeton asked from her perch on the couch opposite them.

“You were at your daughter’s Christmas recital last night, Mrs. Princeton, correct?”

The woman’s nose twisted in a faintly disgusted expression. “I was, even if only briefly.”

“You mean you didn’t stay until the end?”

“No, why would I?”

Riley frowned. “Your daughter was in the play, wasn’t she?”

Mrs. Princeton winced. “She only had a minor part in the first act, and Tory’s performance was the only one I cared about. Once I saw her, I left.”

“You left alone, though. Your husband stayed behind?”

“Well, someone had to bring Tory home afterward.”

“Did you and your husband go to the school in separate vehicles?”

“No, same car.”

“How did you get home, then?”

“I called an Uber. Why?”

“Did you keep a receipt for the ride?”

“Yeah, sure, on my phone.” Mrs. Princeton made to stand up, then plonked back down on the couch, eying us warily. “Why are you asking me all these questions?”

“Are you aware of what happened to Mrs. Blackwell at the end of the show?”

“You mean that old hag half chocking to death on a cupcake? Can’t say I’m sorry.”

Riley’s face remained impassible, even if Mila could sense distaste wash over him in waves. Still, seeing him in his element was hot, so frogging hot . All that restrained power contained in such a handsome package threatened to make her whimper just for having to witness it.

Voice colder than the icicles dangling from the gutters outside, Riley said, “Mrs. Blackwell was actually poisoned and is currently struggling for her life at Mass General Brigham Hospital.”

Mrs. Princeton seemed genuinely taken aback. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear.” Then her eyes widened. “Wait, you don’t think I had anything to do with it?”

“Several eye witnesses reported you being involved in a heated argument with Mrs. Blackwell over your daughter not playing the principal role in the recital.”

“Well, sure. That woman couldn’t recognize talent if it stared her right in the face. She kept insisting that my daughter wasn’t good enough for the lead role, even though she’s clearly the most talented child in that class. But that doesn’t mean I tried to kill her.”

“Did anyone see you get back home, Mrs. Princeton?”

The soccer mom’s voice was becoming shriller by the minute. “The Uber driver and the night guard outside. They keep a log of everyone who comes and goes.”

“And after that?” Riley insisted. “You spent the rest of the night home alone?”

“Yes.”

“Can anyone confirm it?”

Genuine panic crossed Mrs. Princeton’s face for the first time. “Well, no. I don’t know what time Roger and Tory came back, but I was already sleeping.”

“What about your son?” I ask. “Where was he?”

“Out with friends.”

“So you have no confirmed alibi,” Riley concluded.

Mila had to suppress a smirk. She was sure he was laying it on thick only because he disliked Mrs. Princeton. And how to blame him?

Abruptly, he stood up. “Very well, Mrs. Princeton. We’ll get in touch if we have more questions.”

Mila got up as well.

“Wait.” Mrs. Princeton stood up as well and followed them to the door. “Are you actually saying that I’m a suspect?” The last word came out indignant.

With a stony face, Riley said, “Salem PD investigations are confidential, but I wouldn’t leave the country if I were you.”

Mrs. Princeton visibly gulped. “All right, Detective.”

Riley nodded severely and proceeded down the driveway without another word. Mila caught up with him about halfway down and bumped shoulders with him. “That parting salvo was mean. I bet you scared her half to death.”

“That woman is obnoxious. A little fear will do her good.”

“But you don’t think she did it, right?”

“We have to verify her story with the security guard up front. But even if her account checks out, she could’ve still come home and then gone back out to the school…”

They stopped before the car.

“I don’t know,” Mila reasoned. “The more I think about it, the less likely it seems Mrs. Princeton did it.”

“How come?” Riley frowned in that adorable, impossibly sexy way of his.

Mila ignored her mounting lust, and answered him, “From what we know, the killer only poisoned one cupcake, otherwise more people would’ve fallen ill. So, he or she must’ve poisoned the cupcake and then delivered it straight to Mrs. Blackwell to make sure their intended victim ate it. I don’t see Mrs. Princeton walking back into a party where everyone thought she’d already stormed out, then taking a poisoned cupcake to the woman she’d just had an all-out verbal brawl with.”

“Maybe she presented it as a peace offering.”

“Maybe, but I still don’t see it. I’ll ask my sister and my parents if they saw Mrs. Princeton anywhere in that gym. We could ask the same question also to the other witches present, check the security footage of the school entrance. But it’s still more likely that Mrs. Blackwell accepted the cupcake from someone she knew and trusted.”

Riley studied her for a second. “Which brings us on to our next suspect, the grandson.”