by Erin Johnson
Peter shrugged. “I know it’s a little… er… intimidating, but…?” He swept his big hands towards the giant black arachnid and raised his brows at me. “You still in?”
Ah. Now I understood why he’d been surprised and somewhat cautioning about my blind acceptance of the case. I scoffed. “I want hazard pay for this one.”
Peter shot me an apologetic look. “I’ll ask Edna about it, the office manager, but I’m not sure if the department can—”
I waved a hand and cut him off. “I’m kidding.” I smirked. “I got this.”
Did I though? I looked up at the giant mound of spider and its tangle of legs, then pressed my eyes shut tight for a moment to collect myself. I’d taken depositions from serial killers in my previous life as a lawyer—was I really going to be intimidated by a spider?
I peeled an eye open. The thing shuddered and jerked, and I couldn’t help but jump back and recoil. Eek… maybe a little intimidated.
I squared my shoulders and drew on my courage—and maybe a little on my desire to impress Peter—then strode forward.
Behind me, Daisy growled. Hope you’re not allergic to spider bites.
I glanced over my shoulder and shot her a flat look. If this spider bit me, its fangs would probably go right through my arm, so an allergic reaction would be the least of my worries. But since I couldn’t utter a retort without exposing my secret in front of Peter, I settled for sticking my tongue out at her. Her ears flattened as she glared at me.
Peter stepped forward with me, his wand drawn. I stopped and looked him up and down, surprised.
He noticed and shot me a perplexed look. “I’m coming with you.”
Warmth flooded my chest, and I flashed him a confident smile—fake it till you make it. “Nah. I got this.”
His eyes darted toward the creature. “Are you sure?”
“Psh. Yeah, no, I’m good.” I mean, yes, of course I wanted him to walk up to that freaky spider with me. In fact, I didn’t want either of us to have to get any closer, but I needed to speak to the thing without being overheard, which meant….
I climbed gingerly over a spider leg with the girth of a tree trunk and edged closer to its body, leaving Peter and the other officers behind. I gulped, my throat tight, and wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans. I now stood in a sort of nest of tangled spider legs and leaned right and left, trying to figure out which way its face lay.
The thing stirred, and four sets of beady black eyes blinked at me. My heart jerked to a halt, and I pressed a hand to my chest. A set of dripping pinchers clicked together.
I swallowed against the lump in my throat and longed to glance back at Peter for support, but didn’t dare take my eyes off the thing for a moment. I raised a trembling hand in greeting and spoke in spider language, which to me, sounded like a series of whispers.
Hey there, spider. I flashed a smile. I come in peace.
The eight shiny round eyes blinked in unison. You speak… spider? Its voice came out hoarse and labored.
I nodded and kept my voice down so that Peter and the several other officers who crowded together near the door wouldn’t hear. Yes. I, uh— I scratched the back of my neck. How to phrase this delicately…. The cops want me to ask you why you killed your witch? I drew a finger across my throat. Was she mistreating you, or…?
The pinchers clicked together and clear venom dripped to a sizzling puddle on the concrete floor. I did not kill… the… witch. The giant spider wheezed.
I really didn’t want to contradict an enormous spider but…. They say she was killed by venom—your venom.
The giant, shiny eyes blinked, somewhat out of unison. But now… I die. Why would I... kill… her?
I licked my lips. Fair point, spider, and frankly in line with what my gut told me. I’d never heard of a familiar killing its witch. I edged closer. Sometimes familiars and their witches share a mind connection—if it wasn’t you, did you see who did kill her?
Black lids slid halfway over the creature’s many eyes. It wasn’t me. It was— It shuddered, and a couple of its legs dropped limp to the ground.
I frowned, holding my breath. The thing just had to hold on a little longer. Who was it?
The spider struggled for breath. It was—the one—who was here before.
I peered through the semidarkness at the enormous creature. Here, when?
Here as a—girl—and then again—as a woman. The one who—
The giant thing seized, its legs twitching. I scurried back, tripped, and landed hard on the concrete. Peter appeared at my side a moment later and crouched down next to me. Together, we watched the spider convulse, let out a grating moan, and then grow still, its body listing to one side.
My chest heaved. “I think it’s dead.” Not that I was volunteering to double check.
Peter nodded, and his eyes drifted to my face. “Are you alright?”
I gulped as he took my hands and helped me to my feet. I sure was now.
He lifted a thick brow. “Did you get anything?” He let go of my hands to lightly touch his fingertips to my temples.
Oh geez. He was touching my face. My breath caught as I stared up into his bright blue eyes.
Daisy barked, deep and loud, and we both jumped apart.
Unhand him!
“Daisy.” Peter frowned down at her, then looked at me, his lips quirked to the side. “I’m sorry—I don’t know what gets into her sometimes.”
I curled my lip. “Worms, probably.” I rolled my eyes at the dog and let out a couple of quiet whines. If you hadn’t noticed, he was the one touching me.
A little thrill rushed through my chest. And I might never wash my temples again. Though, considering my apartment didn’t have a working shower and I had to sneak into the bathhouse down the street once a week to bathe, that wouldn’t be much of a stretch for me.
I gave myself a little shake when I caught Peter looking at me expectantly—though I couldn’t help but notice the pink blush creeping up his neck and cheeks. Maybe I wasn’t the only one feeling this?
Daisy growled.
Right, Jolene. Back to police business. I nodded as the other officers gathered closer to hear my findings. “The spider didn’t kill the witch.”
A guy with a big gut and mustache huffed. “Well, it was a massive dose of spider venom that did her in, so I think we can safely say it did.”
The officer next to him nodded his agreement.
I frowned. “I disagree. The spider must have known that killing its witch would result in its own death.” I looked back up at Peter. “It said—I mean, it thought, ‘the one who was here before as a girl, and again as a woman,’ did it.” I shrugged. “I think the spider saw a bit of what the victim saw.”
Peter stroked his chin. “What could that mean?”
The lady cop glared at me, her lids half lowered. “If any of that actually happened.” She turned to the mustached officer beside her and scoffed. “Pet psychic doing police work—now I’ve seen everything.”
Anger and embarrassment made my chest burn hot. I opened my mouth to set them straight, but Peter beat me to it.
“Jolene’s here because I saw her use her powers with my own eyes to save Daisy.” He lifted his chin. “You got a problem with her being here, then you take it up with me.”
I folded my arms and beamed at the other two. Yeah—what he said.
The other cops lowered their eyes and mumbled apologies.
Peter gave me a tight-lipped smile. “Sorry about that. I think we should go have a talk with the foreman, Xiu, who found our victim.”
I grinned back at him. “Lead the way.”
The Sweatshop
The lady cop escorted us through the cramped, muggy hallways, lined with silent workers, to the main production room, then took her leave to attend to bagging up the giant spider as evidence. I did not envy her job at that moment.
Daisy, Peter, and I strode down the center aisle of the warehouse. The tall ceilings gave the place a cavel
ike feel. The skylights would brighten the place once the sun rose, but for now, the sky above appeared black. The only light came from the tapered candles on the hundreds of workstations crammed tightly together. Giant looms lined the center aisle, magically clacking and weaving huge swatches of fabric in greens and blues.
A couple of women bustled by, heading in the other direction. They pushed rolling carts piled high with fabric scraps and bits of metal buckles and paper patterns. All around us, women hunched over their tables and spinning wheels, silently working with intent focus.
I lifted a brow as we strode toward the back of the room and the raised platform that looked out over the production floor. This place was a well-oiled machine.
I nudged Peter with my elbow. “I suppose the show must go on, but you’d never guess the owner had been killed in here just an hour ago.”
He nodded. “I’m surprised the factory’s still operating. I wonder who’s in charge now that Li Fan is dead?”
We passed the last row of workstations and entered a small bit of clear floor space. Here, a thin, older woman paced back and forth, her hard, dark eyes scanning the workers. She clasped her hands behind her back and wore a white cap atop her short gray hair.
She turned her lined face to us, with its prominent cheekbones and puffy under eyes, and stared at Peter, then Daisy, then me. Oh, great—I came after the dog in order of importance. She pursed her lips tight together, her mouth slightly twisted in a wry grin—as though she were daring us to cross her.
I gulped. No, thanks. This lady looked tough.
Peter bowed his head. “I’m Officer Peter Flint, and this is my partner, Daisy.”
The German shepherd perked up her pointy ears.
He swept an arm my way. “And my associate, Jolene.”
I resisted the strange urge to curtsy (this woman really intimidated me, apparently) and dipped my chin instead.
The woman stared back us, unblinking. Behind us, hammers thudded against wooden tables, spinning wheels whirred, and the looms clacked.
Peter’s throat bobbed. “We’re, uh—looking for Xiu, the foreman.” He blinked. “Is that… you?”
The older woman ever so slightly inclined her head.
I shot Peter a quick look. Guess that was a yes?
He cleared his throat. “Great. Well, I understand you were the one who found Li Fan’s body?”
Xiu raised one spotted hand to her throat and fished out a delicate gold chain. She rubbed it between her fingers, feeling down the length of it until a gold locket slid out from below her collar.
I cocked my head as I watched her. It seemed so out of place, the feminine jewelry, in contrast to the drab gray coveralls she wore. And was that a second gold chain that dipped under her shirt? Her dark eyes grew far away—until she caught me watching her, jumped, then stuffed the locket back under her clothes.
She frowned. “Yes. I found Li Fan.” Her voice came out hoarse and low.
Peter nodded. “Where?”
She pointed up at the raised platform above us. A solid row of windows, covered by drapes, looked out onto the factory floor, and a set of metal stairs zigzagged from where we stood up to it.
“In her office.”
Peter’s eyes drifted up, then back to Xiu. “When was this?”
The woman’s gaze shifted back to the workers behind us. “Just before 3:00 a.m. I went home for my six-hour break around nine last night. When I returned, I found Li Fan—dead.”
I raised my brows. “A whole six hours off, huh?” I smirked. “Slacker.”
Xiu leveled me a flat look, and I had the strong urge to slide behind Peter and hide. Eep.
“Discipline is everything.” She continued to glare at me. “We achieve nothing without it.”
Daisy wagged her tail and woofed. I like this one.
I shot the dog a look.
Xiu thrust an arm out toward the production floor without even looking and shrieked, “Back to work!”
Startled, I turned as dozens of workers jumped, then dropped their eyes back to their work. The energy on the floor picked up, workers redoubling their efforts.
I curled my lip. Snakes. Did she have eyes in the back of her head? And no wonder the place was still going strong despite the murder—Xiu clearly ruled it with an iron fist.
Peter frowned. “Who takes ownership now?”
Xiu blinked. “I imagine we’ll learn that once Li Fan’s will is read.” She cocked her head. “In the meantime, I continue to do my job.”
Wow. I rolled my eyes. The grief was just rolling off this woman. You could really feel her pain. Right. I, for one, could totally imagine her killing off her boss in cold blood and then just getting right back to work.
Peter shifted on his feet, his eyes darting from the workers to Xiu. “Was anyone else here at the time? Did you see anything that might help us identify a suspect?”
Xiu gave a slight shake of her head. “I was the first in the door—no one was here but Li Fan.” Her mouth tightened slightly, her nostrils flared, and her chest heaved.
Daisy let out a low growl. Not entirely true.
Huh. What was Xiu’s reaction? Was this intimidating woman scared of something? Or angry?
Peter glanced at his canine partner, then back at Xiu. “You’re sure no one else was here?” He dipped his head toward Daisy, who stood at attention, ears pricked, dark eyes glued to the foreman. “My partner here can smell lies.”
Xiu’s throat bobbed as she eyed the dog. “Li Fan may have had an… appointment. I thought perhaps I heard footsteps before I found her.” She huffed. “But I’m not sure.”
Daisy panted. True.
Peter lifted his chin toward the stairs. “Is this the only entrance to the office?”
Xiu crossed her thin arms over her chest. “No. There’s another door on the second floor.” Her eyes lifted to the shadows moving behind the drawn curtains. “Your fellow officers already asked me all this. They’re searching her office now.”
Peter nodded, his voice level. “We just like to be thorough.”
I smirked. And to see if they could catch her in a lie by asking the same questions in different ways. I’d perused enough interrogation records when I was a lawyer to know this game.
Peter rubbed his big hands together. “Well then—you won’t mind if we look around?”
Xiu stared at him. “Not at all. In fact—I’ll escort you myself.”
Runway rivalries. An arcane arachnid. Can she unravel this designer death?
Pet psychic Jolene needs some excitement to keep her mind off her downward spiral. So when her dreamy police crush asks her to interview a massive eight-legged murder witness, the former shifter signs on despite the risks. With an enchanted sweatshop owner and a testy trendsetter both dying from the same venom, Jolene fears their crafty assassin has spun a complex web…
Following the officer and his lie-sniffing German Shepherd into a labyrinth of clues, she cuts through a suspect list full of jealous rivals and bitter enemies. But when their investigation shines a light on the frayed corners of the black market, Jolene worries she’s pulled the wrong thread…
Can she stitch up the case before she gets sewn into a body bag?
Friday Night Bites is the second book in the charming Magic Market paranormal cozy mystery series. If you like clever wit, supernatural settings, and lighthearted whodunits, then you’ll love Erin Johnson’s enchanting tale.
Buy Friday Night Bites for a delectable detective treat today!
A Note from the Author
I’ve always dreamed of being a full-time author, and now here I am! And it’s all thanks to you— my awesome, supportive readers.
I am so grateful to you for reading this book (and any others of mine you’ve picked up) and truly hoped you enjoyed it.
If so, please check out more of my Magic Market Mysteries or the Spells & Caramels series.
Happy Reading,
Erin
About the Author
When not writing, she’s hiking, napping with her dogs, and losing at trivia night.
You can find Erin on Facebook and BookBub, or email her at [email protected]. She loves to hear from readers!
Copyright © 2019 by Erin Johnson
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum