The Mysteries of Megan Glen

The Ring Maker: 7

A few days passed before I found anything useful for the case. I’d spent the last couple of days following every possible lead and researching every possible suspect and yet I couldn’t find a thing. It was Barry, my stepfather, that gave me the missing link.

I joined everyone else at the table in the early morning, two days before Christmas. This was something I rarely did as I wasn’t a big fan of breakfast, but I was desperate for a distraction from the seemingly dead end case. Barry was reading a newspaper that he peered over the top of to say good morning.

“Is there any coffee?” I asked no one in particular.

Mom nodded towards the coffeemaker. “I just made it a couple of minutes ago. It should still be warm.”

“Thanks.” I wasted no time in pouring myself a mug and sitting at the empty spot between Jake and Danny.

“What are you reading about?” Danny asked Barry.

Lacey scoffed quietly, picking at her toast. “Newspapers are so old fashioned; just Google whatever you want to read about.”

“This is easier,” Barry said, not looking up. “I mean, do you commonly find interesting stories on the internet?”

“Yes,” she rolled her eyes.

He shook his head and clucked his tongue. “Let me find an example… ah, here’s one! It’s a large article about a man that sells rings-”

“What does it say?” I exclaimed, trying to grab it from his hands. He held it out of my reach, looking astonished.

“What are you doing?”

I sighed and dropped into my chair before I looked too crazy. “Just tell me what it says please.”

“It’s about a man that’s received some threats and a few poisoned rings. He believes they’re from his father, but there’s not enough proof to arrest him. They interviewed him; he seemed terrified.”

I grinned and jumped up as a plausible theory entered my head. I quickly did a run through of all the facts and found it matched perfectly. “I’ve got it!”

“You’ve got what?” Mother exclaimed, raising her hand to her forehead. “Goodness, Megan, are you always so hyper after one sip of coffee?”

Grabbing Danny’s shoulders and shaking him slightly, I replied, “No, that’s not it. I figured out my case.”

“How- what is it? Stop shaking me!”

I let go of his shoulders and started towards the stairs. “Get dressed and drive me to the factory, I need to talk to Charlie.”

“Alright,” he muttered as I ran up the stairs, disbelief spreading through me. It was so unlikely, but there was more than enough evidence... I was going to catch the culprit, I knew it.

Danny wouldn’t stop talking throughout the entire drive. He kept asking questions and trying to get an explanation. His attempts were in vain because most of the time I ignored him, writing everything down in my notebook to triple check my theory.

When we got to the factory, I hurried to the door and threw it open. Charlie McDaniel was inside, working on a ring. He looked up with obvious shock and curiosity. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“No, but we need to talk,” I replied, slightly out of breath. “I found the person sending you threats.”

He smiled and told us, “If you want to wait in my office, I’ll join you in a moment.”