“I don't know,” Mags answered with a frown. “They blindfolded me in the van and tied my hands behind my back. I never got a good look at either of them.”
“How many were there? Were they male? Female?” I asked, praying that this would soon make sense so that Mags’s kidnappers would have to pay for what they’d done.
“I'll be the one to ask questions here,” the cop growled in warning. He was one I hadn’t met before, probably from one of the officers from out of town. “If you'll just give us a moment—”
Mags raised her hand and interrupted him. “No, they’re my family. I want them here. Anything you want to ask me, they can hear, too.”
“Okay,” the officer said, nodding once although he obviously didn’t agree. “Let's start with a description of your kidnappers. How many were there? Male? Female? Any defining characteristics to their voices, anything you remember hearing or smelling?”
Those were questions I was going to ask too. Some of them I already had. It seemed important to the officer that he remain in charge, so I remained quiet.
Mags shook her head slowly. “From what I could tell, there were two. A man and woman. Remember, I couldn’t see anything. Only hear. And when the man pulled me into the car, I still had my things with me. That morning I bought a solid metal menorah from the nice ladies at the Hanukkah tent and I used it to thwack him over the head as hard as I could. It wasn’t enough to knock him out, though. That's when he took everything away and threw it out the window.”
I reached into my bag and pulled out the things we had found in the snow. “We’ve got everything right here for you,” I said, returning them to her. “And good job getting that hit in.”
A small smile flitted across Mags’s face, but it was gone just as quickly as it had arrived.
“They kept calling me Russo, and I didn't correct them because I didn't want to put you in danger, and I didn't know what they would do if they found out they had the wrong person. I was so scared, Angie.”
“I know,” I said, my voice cracking.
“They were so angry. They kept telling me to keep my nose out of places where it didn't belong. They said bad things would happen to me, much worse than this if I crossed them again.”
“But who?” I asked, unable to contain a groan.
Enormous tears spilled from Mags’s eyes. “I don't know. I wish I did, so I could warn you. All I know is they were mad, and they said they'd definitely be back if you didn't fall in line. What did they mean, Angie? What have you gotten into? Is it drugs?”
“Never!” I assured her, placing a hand on her shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “This has to be related to my work as a private investigator. I've outed some pretty unsavory characters in my day.”
The cop scratched his chin. “A P.I., huh?”
I nodded, and we said no more about that. “So did they just deliver the message and then let you go?” he asked after returning his attention to Mags.
“I think they planned to keep me longer, but something spooked them. Maybe the sound of sirens. I'm not sure, because it’s all kind of a blur. They panicked and left. Once I was sure they weren’t coming back, I got to work on the ties binding my hands. And once those were free, I took off the blindfold and made my way to the road.”
“And that's where we found you,” the officer concluded.
“Yes.” Mags turned to me. “It's hard to believe that wasn't even half an hour ago.”
“It's hard to believe a lot about today,” Nan added.
Mr. Milton, who’d remained quiet until now, cleared his throat. “They took you to Dewdrop Springs. Probably means they're from there. A lot of the bad things that happen around the bay come from folks in that town.”
All eyes zoomed to Mr. Milton. Nobody wanted to contradict him, but nobody jumped to agree with him either.
“It could have been anyone,” I said at last. “But I doubt the kidnappers were stupid enough to return home while they had her.”
“Are you saying we should rule out Dewdrop Springs?” Mr. Milton questioned, his voice flaring in irritation.
“No, but we shouldn't rule out all the other possibilities, either.”
“Is there anything more you can tell us, Mags?” Mom asked, wrapping an arm around her niece’s shoulder.
“That's all I know,” Mags answered somberly.
I remained quiet. Mags had already been through so much. There was no point asking her to recall more when she'd already told us.
Did this mean the kidnappers wouldn't be found?
Probably at least not for now.
And who or what had scared them off? Would they really be back?
Would every moment going forward put me in peril, seeing as they could strike at any time?
They’d said they wanted me to stop, but I didn't know what I should stop. And honestly, I refused to be scared off my duties as a P.I. by some disgruntled bad guys.
More than afraid, I was angry—angry this had happened to Mags in my place, angry it had happened at all, and angry that Mr. Milton was still here.
Finally, I decided to say something about that niggling little problem. “Do you think we should limit any further discussions to family only?”
I looked to my parents for support, but it was Nan who answered. “Are you trying to suggest Mr. Milton isn't welcome?”
“I just think it would be better,” I said, “if it were only us.”
When Nan didn't argue in his defense, Mr. Milton became extremely flustered. “I'm only trying to help. Can't you see that?” he demanded of me.
Mags spoke up in the eerie voice she’d affected since returning to us. “Angie’s right. I want him to go.”
Mr. Milton looked to Nan one last time, then stormed out of the station.
Chapter Seventeen
“C’mon,” the police officer told Mags. “We need to get your statement on record before letting you go.”
“Should I come with you?” Charles offered.
Mags shook her head. “I didn't do anything wrong, so I don't need a lawyer present, but thank you.”
We watched her go, the rest of us remaining in the waiting room uncomfortably close to a grimy looking coffeemaker. I hung back as far as I could from the untrustworthy appliance.
If it was a coffeemaker that had first given me my ability to talk to animals, then another coffeemaker could just as easily take that power away, too. Definitely not something I was willing to risk.
“How are you feeling?” Charles asked, leaning one shoulder onto the wall beside me and sweeping his concerned eyes over me.
“I feel like a giant weight has been lifted from my chest,” I said. “I know that's super cliché, but it's also like a part of me didn't even realize that I couldn't breathe until Mags was brought back safe, sound, and relatively unharmed.”
“I know what you mean,” Mom agreed and laced her fingers through my father's.
“I don't know if we'll be able to find the kidnappers based on the information we have, dear,” Nan told me, concern etched across her aged features.
“It’s not a big deal. Now that I know they're coming for me, I'll be ready,” I promised.
“Maybe they only wanted to give you that warning and plan to leave it at that,” my dad ventured. “Are you going to listen?”
“Of course not,” Nan answered for me. “Angie hasn't done a single thing wrong.”
I simpered at my parents. “She's right, you know. Now that we have Mags back, we need to focus on figuring out who killed the judges.”
“What are you thinking?” Mom asked, curiosity flashing in her eyes.
“I’m thinking I'd like to talk to Mr. Gable again. He's the one who knew the most about the Holiday Spectacular. Both the festival itself and the committee who planned it.”
“Don't forget he’s the one who knows the most about the guests, too,” Charles reminded me. “He took pictures of everyone who came through that main entrance.”