The Big Fang Theory (Magic Market Mysteries Book 8)

by Erin Johnson

  Peter and I bent forward, our temples nearly touching.

  YOU NEED to tell your sister the truth about what you did, today, or I will. Love you, darling—we all make mistakes, but it’s time to come clean. —Mom

  PETER and I exchanged wide-eyed glances. Peter pointed at the letter. “Tonya’s mother, Polly Pierre, gave this to her? I’d say that gives her daughter motive. She could’ve killed Polly to keep her secret—whatever it was.”

  I quirked my lips to the side. “I’m guessing it wasn’t borrowing her sister’s favorite shoes and ruining them.”

  Peter leaned forward and peered inside the purse. “Find anything else that looked interesting?”

  Russo shook his head but gently shook out the rest of the purse’s contents. “Just this.”

  I looked over the tortoiseshell compact, a silk coin purse, and a black tube of lipstick. I pictured Tonya’s dark purple lips—and then the light coral lipstick mark left on the teacup Polly had drunk from.

  I glanced up at Russo. “Are the girls—Tonya and Elin—still competing without their mother?”

  Russo nodded. “From what I understand, they were given a pass on today’s bake, given the circumstances, but will be back at it tomorrow.”

  “Alright.” Peter nodded. “Let’s go have a chat with Tonya Pierre—ask her about this letter.” He sighed. “We still need to track down Polly’s ex, Vince Dupont.”

  Russo’s scroll of parchment magically appeared beside his head. “I’ve got his address for you.”

  I nodded, grinning. “And while we’re at it, we might as well go check out Mimi Moulin a little more… and her famous bakery. Maybe sample some of the goods.” I winked, but Peter’s eyes widened.

  “She’s a suspect in a murder investigation.”

  I shrugged, grinning wider. “I hear her pan dulces are to die for. Get it?”

  Russo chuckled, but Peter just groaned.

  Russo held up a gloved finger. “We also confiscated the Pierres’ sourdough starter like you asked, Flint.”

  I turned to my boyfriend. “Aw—I didn’t know you did that.”

  He grinned and shrugged. “Well, I’m trying to start righting some wrongs that have been done against shifters.”

  I lifted my chin, smiling. “Good—about time.”

  Russo nodded. “If you can get a sample of Mimi Moulin’s sourdough starter, we can have the lab test them.”

  I licked my lips. “Just another good reason to go visit Mimi’s bakery.” My mouth was watering already.

  23

  TONYA

  Peter, Daisy, and I headed to go see Tonya Pierre first. She (and her mother before her death) lived in the flat above their bakery, which we quickly found on a busy section of Main Street. The middle tier of the island bustled with magical shoppers and diners.

  Like the Darkmoon District, Main Street came alive at night, after all the human tourists had gone back to the mainland. Unlike the Darkmoon, you didn’t have to watch your step around broken bottles or puddles of mysterious liquids.

  Peter and I stood under the pink-and-white-striped awning as we waited for Tonya to answer the door. I felt like Daisy, nose in the air as I sniffed. The heavenly scent of caffeine in the form of cappuccinos wafted my way from the bistro across the street. Warm light spilled from its windows, matching the brightly lit clothing shop and pet store next to the bakery.

  Gold lettering on the bakery’s front window proclaimed it the Pierre Bakery, but the cake stands all stood empty and the lights dark. I bit my lip. I’d wondered if the twins would be able to win the competition now that their mother was gone, but now I questioned whether the business would stay open. Even if Tonya and her mother hadn’t had a good relationship, would Tonya really have jeopardized her livelihood and home to keep a secret from her twin sister?

  Footsteps scuffled behind the door, and the locks clicked. Tonya peered out at us, a blue silk kerchief wound round her dark, curly head of hair and tied at the top. She sported pink flannel pajamas with cupcakes and magic swirls printed all over them. She rubbed her eyes and yawned as if we’d awoken her. I lifted a brow—guess someone wasn’t losing sleep over their mother’s murder.

  Peter tipped his policeman’s cap. “Is it alright if we come in?”

  She stood aside and waved us in. “Have you found out who killed my mom?”

  We stepped into the shop, the floor tiled in black-and-white honeycomb, a white marble countertop across the back and pale pink shelves displaying cake boxes and delicacies. Daisy and I lifted our noses and inhaled deeply. Butter and sugar—yum.

  Tonya pointed to the narrow stairs to the left of the counter. “Would you like to come up to the flat?”

  We nodded, and she led the way, Daisy bounding up behind her. The space above the bakery was just as pink and frilly as the downstairs. Lacy white curtains hung over the front window, which overlooked Main Street, and a pink wooden table and chairs and floral couch took up most of the cozy space.

  Three doors opened off the central room. I caught sight of a porcelain sink and shower curtain in one, and a vanity laden with makeup and lipsticks in the other—that must be Tonya’s room. The third door stood closed, the space underneath dark. And that, I guessed, had to have been Polly’s room.

  Peter and I settled on the flowery couch—soft and comfy—while Tonya pulled a chair over from the table and sat facing us. She laced her hands together, then squeezed them between her knees. She leaned forward, her eyes big and eager. “So—did you catch Mom’s killer?”

  Peter cleared his throat. “Not yet.”

  Her face fell.

  “But we’re following some promising leads.”

  I bit back a smirk—yeah, our top one is you!

  Peter took a deep breath and let it out slowly. In the silence that stretched out, Tonya shifted in her seat, her eyes darting between me and Peter and Daisy, who sat at his feet. “What’s going on?”

  Peter licked his lips and leaned forward. “We found the note—the one in your purse from your mother?”

  Twin pink spots burned on her cheeks, and she pressed her lips tight together.

  I raised my brows. “It doesn’t look good, Tonya. Your mom tells you that you’d better confess some mysterious secret to your sister, or she will… and then she ends up dead?”

  Tonya gasped. “You can’t— You think I—” She shook her head. “No way.”

  “Then why don’t you explain what that note meant?” Peter kept his tone gentle but firm.

  Her throat bobbed, and she pulled the neck of her flannel pajamas tighter. “It—” She let out a shrill laugh. “It was just a joke.”

  Daisy growled. Lie!

  Tonya startled, her wide eyes on the dog.

  I smirked. “Care to try again?”

  Tonya waved a hand and crossed her legs, half turning away from us. “Oh, well, Elin’s birthday’s coming up, and we’re planning a surprise party, but Mom didn’t—”

  Daisy lifted her haunches and let out a deep growl. She’s lying!

  Tonya eyed the enormous German shepherd like she was convinced Daisy was about to pounce on her. She leapt to her feet and stood behind her chair, holding it like she was a lion tamer.

  “Fine!” Her eyes blazed. “Fine—I admit it. I slept with Lorenzo.”

  I sucked in a loud gasp in spite of myself. “What? Your sister’s fiancé?” I gaped at Peter. Every time I thought nothing would surprise me anymore…. This was juicy.

  Her throat bobbed again, and she tried to look prim. “Lorenzo’s a player. He took advantage of my insecurities.” She sniffed. “I’m not as pretty as Elin; she always gets all the attention. And she was rubbing it in my face—I just… I wanted some love too.”

  I was too shocked to ask an intelligent question, but luckily for me, Peter wasn’t. “How did your mom find out?”

  The blush returned to her cheeks again. “He would sneak over here. Since I live with Mom—” She lifted her eyes. “—lived, it was o
nly a matter of time before she caught us together.”

  Daisy whined and lowered her haunches back down to a sit. Truth.

  Tonya huffed and settled back into the wooden kitchen chair. “I was obviously embarrassed and begged my mom not to say anything. But when Lorenzo and Elin announced their engagement, my mom told me I had to tell my sister the truth.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “Mom may have played a little fast and loose with some rules, but having been cheated on by Vince, she had a hard line on that. I told her it would never happen again, but she insisted I still tell Elin.”

  Daisy wagged her tail. True.

  Peter nodded. “And that was what that letter was about?”

  Tonya said it was, and Daisy confirmed it was the truth.

  I leaned my elbow against the arm of the sofa and rested my cheek on my hand. Looked like we had this all wrapped up, so I asked the obvious question. “Did you kill your mom to keep your secret?”

  Her mouth opened, then closed. “Wh— No! No way. I loved my mom, I would never!”

  Daisy wagged her tail. True.

  Tonya frowned. “Besides, I wasn’t anywhere near my mom when she died—how could I have done it?”

  That was indeed a good point. I bit my lip. “Do you think your sister knows about you and her fiancé?”

  Tonya scoffed. “No way.” She paled, and her eyes grew huge. “Oh my sands, please don’t tell her!” She clasped her hands together, pleading.

  Peter sighed. “We’ll have to do what’s necessary for the investigation.”

  Tonya groaned.

  “But we won’t reveal your secret unless we have to.” Peter shifted in his seat and shot me a contemplative look, then turned back to Tonya. What was he up to? He cleared his throat. “By the way, who inherits the shop now?”

  Tonya blinked. “Uh—my sister and me. Mom always made it clear that she wanted us to continue on with the family business. Why?”

  Peter raised a brow. “Did you kill your mother to get your inheritance?”

  She folded her arms across her ample chest. “I already told you—no! I didn’t kill my mom—for any reason!”

  Daisy wagged her tail. True.

  Hmm… I considered another angle. “Did you tell Lorenzo about your mother’s ultimatum?”

  She blinked. “I… I told him my mom was pressuring me to tell Elin, yeah. I told him he should just call off the engagement.”

  “But he didn’t?”

  She shook her head.

  Peter and I exchanged looks, and from the light in his eyes, I figured he was thinking the same thing I was. Tonya didn’t kill to inherit her mom’s bakery or to keep the affair a secret, but maybe Lorenzo did. If Tonya was forced to tell Elin the truth, he’d be exposed as a cheater, and when she presumably broke up with him, he’d lose his sugar mama.

  The family seemed well off enough to afford this spot right on Main Street—it couldn’t be cheap. Plus Lorenzo was at the baking competition that day. Then again, the question still loomed—how could he have done it? How could he have poisoned Polly’s tea?

  24

  ELIN

  Tonya gave us directions to her sister and Lorenzo’s apartment with a blush and one more appeal to please not tell her sister about the affair. The place was only a few streets over, in a posh building with a doorman and shining marble floors. So conveniently located for all the cheating.

  Lorenzo let us into the gleaming white flat. An enormous bouquet of flowers sat in a crystal vase on their glass dining table, and some artificial fragrance permeated the whole space—and made me sneeze.

  Daisy crinkled her nose. Oof! Can we open a window?

  I raised a brow at the dog and nodded my agreement.

  “Officers?” Elin bustled out from a room down the hall. Despite a messy ponytail and fluffy white robe, she still managed to look glamorous. Glittering crystals on her slippers caught the candlelight, and diamond earrings glinted in her ears. The girl had expensive taste. Then again, Lorenzo was just as blinged-out with his diamond watch and one ear stud.

  Elin tossed her blond ponytail over her shoulder and slid an arm around her fiancé’s waist. “Have you found out who killed my mother?” She sniffled, her eyes bloodshot and nose red as if she’d been crying.

  I glanced at Daisy, who sniffed the air, her wet nose twitching. She whined. Her grief smells genuine. She sneezed. And perfumey. Ick.

  I raised my brows at Peter. He stepped forward. “Not yet, but we have some promising leads.”

  Elin frowned. “Then why are you here?”

  Hostess of the year, ladies and gentlemen.

  Peter leveled Lorenzo with a serious look. “We’d like to ask you some questions.”

  The tanned guy, his shirt unbuttoned nearly to his navel, shifted on his feet. His smirk faltered, and he glanced down at Elin.

  “Separately.”

  Good call, Peter. We’d get straighter answers—and probably be able to keep our promise to Tonya about discretion—if we did it that way.

  Lorenzo looked relieved, but Elin stomped her slippered foot. “Separately?” She gaped at me and Peter, hands on her hips. “Is this normal police procedure.”

  I grinned. “There’s a lot of things about us that aren’t normal.” I pointed at Daisy. “Lie-sniffing dog.” Then pointed my thumb at myself. “Pet psychic.”

  Daisy let out a low growl. Not quite true.

  Peter grinned but nodded. “Yes, it’s fairly commonplace.”

  Elin grumbled to herself.

  I raised my brows. “So who wants to go first?”

  We followed Elin out onto the narrow balcony that overlooked a quiet, charming, cobblestone street. She slumped into one of the bistro chairs, and I took the other, with Peter standing at the railing. Daisy stuck her head between the bars and panted down at the passersby.

  I let out a quiet woof. Be careful not to drool on anyone.

  She yanked her head back and shot me a dirty look. I grinned back—before knowing Daisy, I didn’t even know dogs could give dirty looks. She’d taught me so much.

  With a wave of her wand, Elin lit several ivory pillar candles on the bistro table between us. The candles, plus a few potted plants, lent a flowery scent to the cool evening air. She hugged the neck of her thick robe tighter to her and raised her brows. “So what do you want to know?”

  Peter cleared his throat and leaned against the railing. “We just spoke with your sister, Tonya.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  Wow—I could just feel the sisterly love.

  “We understand that the two of you have inherited the bakery now that your mother has died. We also understand it’s a highly successful business.”

  I nodded. “And that property, with the flat above, right on Main Street?” I let out a low whistle, and Daisy jerked her head to look at me. False alarm, Days. “That’s got to be worth a pretty merkle.”

  Elin’s neck and face flushed bright red. “How dare you!”

  I shot Peter an innocent look. “How dare we what? We were just stating facts, yes?"

  Elin leaned forward, her chin jutting out. “No, I didn’t kill my mom to inherit the bakery, if that’s what you’re asking!” She practically spat the words.

  Daisy wagged her tail. True.

  Elin’s eyes filled with tears, and her chin quivered. “I love—loved my mom.” She sniffled, tears pouring down her cheeks. “I would never have tried to hurt her! I never wanted her dead! This—this whole situation is horrible!”

  Peter and I looked to Daisy, the canine truth-o-meter. She whined. She’s really distraught—everything she said is true.

  I let out a sigh and raised my brows at Peter. Guess we didn’t have our killer. Then again, we’d both suspected Lorenzo more, anyway.

  Elin played with the ends of her ponytail. “Besides, Tonya’s always been the one way more into the business—it’s her whole life.” She rolled her eyes again. “She doesn’t have anything else. I, on the other hand, hav
e Lorenzo.” She made sure to flash her diamond ring.

  I crossed my arms and leaned back in my chair. I could see why Tonya was so annoyed with her. Still, sleeping with your sister’s fiancé was taking annoyance pretty far.

  I licked my lips, not sure how to ask this. “Do you think Lorenzo has been faithful to you?”

  Elin’s jaw dropped. “What?!”

  I held my ground and just stared at her. Tonya had said Lorenzo was known around town as a player. Maybe Elin had an inkling and it was somehow linked to the murder.

  She sniffed and lifted her chin, then looked out over the street. “You know…” Her cheeks flushed pink. “He is a man, after all.” She whipped her head around to face me. “But he asked me to marry him—he wouldn’t do that unless he wanted to be with me!”

  I drummed my fingers on my elbow. Yeah, unless he liked living an expensive lifestyle and wanted to secure a piece of it for himself—at any cost.

  25

  LORENZO

  After Lorenzo brought his bride-to-be a glass of red wine on the balcony, he closed the glass doors and settled on the white chaise across from Peter and me, who sat on the leather sofa. He leaned forward, his knees wide, and wrung his hands.

  I raised a brow. The guy was nervous. I glanced at Peter, then dove right in. “So, we know you cheated on Elin with her sister.”

  The color drained from his face as the whites showed all around his eyes. He chanced a quick look toward the balcony doors, then hissed at me, “Keep your voice down!”

  “Oh.” I played dumb and nodded slowly. “So Elin doesn’t know.”

  His expression darkened, a muscle in his chiseled jaw jumping. “No—of course not!” The color drained from his face again. “Unless—did you just tell her?”

  I shook my head and batted my lashes at Peter, beside me. “No—did you?”

  He bit back a grin.

  Lorenzo dragged a hand down his face and groaned. “Ohh… this is bad.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded at him. “Cheating on your fiancée with her sister is bad.”