“So, who did this?” Chief Terry swung into the Gilmore driveway. The family vehicles — both of them — were parked single-file on the pavement. “Someone decided to snuff out that girl’s life. I need to know why.”
He wasn’t the only one. “Let’s check inside.”
Landon and Chief Terry took the lead, the former glancing over his shoulder twice to make sure I was okay. Once inside, weapons drawn, they swept the main floor. I figured the uniforms had already done the same, so I went straight to the living room.
It did indeed appear as if a struggle had taken place. The coffee table rested on its side, the items that had been placed on top strewn about the room.
“Was the television on when your officers came in?” I asked as Chief Terry joined me.
“I didn’t ask. Why is that important?”
“I don’t know that it is. I’m just trying to get a picture of what happened here. The remote control is on the couch.” I pointed for emphasis. “There looks to have been a glass of some kind on the table thanks to the ring. It looks like it’s from a wine glass.”
Chief Terry followed my finger. “You think someone was home, relaxing, and then something happened.”
I held out my hands. “That makes the most sense.” I moved to the television and pressed the power button. An HGTV show flared to life before I killed the power. “I’m guessing it was the mother.”
“Because that’s a chick show?” Landon asked as he swept through the open archway. “I checked all the upstairs bedrooms and closets. There’s nothing. No one is here.”
“HGTV is not a chick channel,” I shot back. “You’ve watched it with me.”
“Only when we were really bored and you weren’t in the mood for Netflix nudity.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, because I often police your viewing habits,” I drawled. “That sounds just like me.”
“Fine. It could’ve been a man.”
I bent over to study a broken wine glass. “There’s lipstick on the glass. I think it was the mother.”
“I kind of want to pull a Winchester and say something mean,” Landon lamented. “Maybe add a little ‘I told you so’ dance to the mix.”
It made me smile. “Don’t ever let my mother hear you say something like ‘pull a Winchester.’ She will melt down.”
“Good to know.” Landon dragged a hand through his shoulder-length hair. “I don’t know what to make of this. Both the vehicles are in the driveway. There’s no blood. ”
“What about cell phones?” I asked. “Did you find them?”
“No, but that’s a good idea.” Landon shot me a wink. “It’s a good thing I have you.”
My gaze fell on a framed photograph on an end table on the other side of the room. It featured four smiling teenagers striking a pose in their designer outfits. I recognized all of them. “Do you want another bit of investigative advice?”
“Sure.” Landon’s reply was easy as he glanced at the photo. “I think I know what you’re going to suggest.”
“We need to talk to Paisley’s friends.”
“I take it you want to go with us.”
“Do you have a problem with that?”
“Not in the least.” Landon took another look around the room. “We need to get ahead of whatever this is. They might be our best shot.”
CHIEF TERRY PLACED A CALL TO FIND out where the girls were. Thankfully they were all at Amelia Hart’s house. It only took us five minutes to drive there, and once in the driveway Landon shot me a warning look.
“I want you to do what you need to do to ascertain if they’re still under the memory spell, but you can’t take control of the interview,” he warned.
I had to laugh. “This isn’t my first time interrogating people with you.”
He made a face. “Let’s not call it an interrogation. We are talking about teenagers here.”
“Got it.”
Tina Hart, Amelia’s mother, opened the door. Chief Terry had spoken with her on the phone. She seemed baffled by our appearance.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Something has happened, Chief Terry replied calmly. “We need to talk to the girls.”
Tina hesitated a moment and then pushed open the door wider. “Come in.” She led us to the living room, where the three girls sat watching the Kardashians. They seemed lost in their own little world, not looking up when we appeared in the doorway.
“Amelia, you have visitors,” Tina offered. She almost sounded frightened to announce our arrival.
From her spot between Sophia Johnson and Emma Graham, Amelia slowly tracked her eyes to us. Surprise registered across her face, but she masked it quickly.
“I surrender.” She held up her hands and smiled. “Whatever it is, I didn’t do it.”
“Neither did I,” Sophia said, her eyes wide as saucers. “We’re completely innocent.”
“That’s good to know.” Chief Terry moved to the center of the room and inclined his head toward the remote. “Turn off the television, please.”
Amelia remained motionless for a second. Then, rather than follow his instruction, she muted the television. “What’s going on, Mom?” She focused her full attention on her worried-looking mother. “Is something bad about to happen?”
“I don’t know what’s wrong,” Tina replied, wringing her hands. “Chief Davenport has something he needs to discuss with you.”
“Well, we didn’t do anything.” Amelia’s tone was firm enough that I narrowed my eyes. She had “disappeared” three weeks before. She had turned Hemlock Cove upside down with stories of kidnappers and predators. It turned out she’d masterminded her own disappearance because she wanted money and planned to run off with her friends for a grand adventure — borrowed magic from Hollow Creek fueling her — but with a little witchy intervention I’d managed to make her forget those plans. Had the spell held up? Amelia was a master manipulator.
“We’re not accusing you of anything,” Chief Terry assured her as he sat on the coffee table and stared at the three girls. “Something has happened to your friend Paisley.”
“Oh, no!” Tina’s hand flew to her mouth.
“What happened?” Amelia
