by Erin Johnson
Of course, my plan would spontaneously combust if either of them bothered to confirm this with Peter or if he’d warned the station about a shifter being in their midst, but it was the only plan I had. And I couldn’t handle the agonizing awkwardness of waiting around with the other pyramid scheme chumps for Peter to interrogate me.
I glanced back and found Heidi and Will crouched behind me. I smirked. “Real subtle, guys.”
They glanced at each other, then straightened. Will adjusted his lab coat. “Sorry if we’re not as experienced at subterfuge as you are.”
Heidi gave me a bashful smile and shrugged. “It just seemed like the time to creep.”
“Well, you two do look like creeps.”
She grinned, then stuck her tongue out at me. I made a face back, then spun around, ready to sneak forward and attempt to woo the cops stationed at the doors. But I stopped dead.
Daisy, Peter’s enormous German shepherd partner, blocked my way.
I startled and slapped a hand to my chest, heart racing with adrenaline. She cocked her head, dark eyes fixed on my face, and whined.
Jolene? What are you doing here? Her eyes narrowed. Did you kill that woman?
I glanced around and found all the women nearest us deep in conversation. I was sure their founder/cult leader dying on stage was going to keep them talking for years. With no one paying me any attention, I chanced speaking dog in public.
I shot Daisy a flat look and let out a few whines. Yeah, Daisy. Totally. I killed that lady.
She looked bored and huffed. Lie. But what’s new from you?
I planted a hand on my hip and let out a quiet woof. If you’ll recall, I was very honest with Peter, and look where it’s gotten me.
Daisy’s gaze dropped to the floor, and her brow furrowed. True.
I crouched down in front of her and let out some whines and barks. Look, Days, we just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You remember Heidi and Will, right?
I gestured to my two friends, who moved forward to stand beside me. Peter had mistakenly brought Daisy to me for help when she’d been cursed on the job. I’d taken them both to Will’s back alley veterinary clinic, where my animal translation skills and Will’s and Heidi’s healing abilities had saved the pup’s life.
Daisy’s big, bushy tail swished back and forth on the ground as she smiled up at my friends.
“Aw.” Heidi bent forward and cooed at her as she scratched behind the dog’s huge pointy ears. “Who’s such a good police dog, huh? You are. Yes, you are, aren’t you?”
Will looked her up and down. “Glad to see a former patient looking so healthy.”
I nodded at the dog and whined. See? They’re good people, and you already know I didn’t kill the lady. Can you just let us slip on out of here without alerting Peter or anyone else? Hm? I flashed my eyes at her. For old times’ sake?
Daisy, who’d been panting up at Heidi with a big, toothy grin, snapped her jaw shut and gave me a flat look. You want to leave? I thought you’d crashed the crime scene to get to my Peter?
I barked out a humorless laugh before regaining my composure. “Woof!” Uh, not so much, Days. You finally got what you wanted, right? I’m staying away from Peter, and you don’t have to work with me. Just let me slip on out of here unnoticed, and we can just—
“Bark!”
I squeezed my eyes shut, wincing as the dog barked and barked, her deep voice cutting through the din in the lobby. Alert! Alert! Peter! Over here! Peter!
So much for slipping out unnoticed.
5
Willing and Able
I peeled my eyes open and glared at the dog.
Really, Daisy? You want to spite me this much, huh?
She let out one more woof, her dark eyes locked on mine, whole body tense. Spiting you is just a bonus. Her brow furrowed. Not talking to you doesn’t seem to be helping Peter, so maybe this will make him better.
I frowned. What did she mean by that? Was Peter unwell?
I didn’t get a chance to ask her. The women around us had already edged away as soon as Daisy started barking her head off, but they parted even more to allow Inspector Bon through, followed by the new Chief McCray and of course—my stomach twisted—Peter. My face grew hot, and I froze. Will grabbed me by the collar of my jacket and hauled me out of my crouch to my feet.
“Keep it together.” He flashed his eyes at me.
I flashed mine back, then adjusted my jacket. Of course I’d keep it together. What did he think I’d do?
“Miss Hartgrave!” Chief McCray brushed past Bon and clapped me on the shoulder—hard.
I inclined my head. “Chief McCray.”
“Ha!” She hooked one thumb through the belt loop of her navy trousers and turned toward Bon and Peter. “Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise. Running into our resident pet psychic—what are the chances?” The blond narrowed her eyes at me from behind her huge wire-rimmed glasses. “Hey, now. You didn’t get a hint you needed to be here, did you?” She held her middle fingers to her temple.
I gave a dry chuckle. “Heh. No… just here supporting my friend.” I gestured to Heidi and snuck a quick glance at Peter. Our eyes locked for a brief moment, and I frowned. His were bloodshot, and dark bags hung beneath them.
He immediately dropped his gaze and shifted on his feet. My confusion deepened as I took in the five o’clock shadow that darkened his face and his wrinkled uniform. This was not the neat and professional Boy Scout of a cop I knew.
I glanced down at Daisy, who now sat beside Peter, hugging close against his leg. I needed to ask her what was going on as soon as I could. Was Peter sick? The dog whined and looked up at her partner, shifting from one front paw to the other, uneasy. I bit the inside of my lip, suddenly worried about him.
McCray clapped her hands, and it startled me out of my thoughts. “Well, what do you say, Miss Hartgrave, you joining us on this one?”
I gulped, throat dry, and glanced at Peter. He kept his eyes down, not giving me any direction. “Uh….” I shrugged. “You know, I actually was hoping to just head home. Didn’t see much that all these other ladies couldn’t tell you about, and I’m pretty beat, so….”
McCray thumbed at me. “What a jokester, this one. Ha!”
Bon stood, arms crossed, a bored glare on his face. Good times.
“The murder victim owns a pet pig she brings with her everywhere she goes, from what I understand. Who better to help us work this case, huh?” She flashed her blue eyes at me. “Don’t make me insist.”
I glanced back at Will, and he raised his brows. Didn’t look like I had much of a choice.
I turned around. “I, uh—I’m afraid there might be some personal reasons that would prevent me from working—”
“Ah.” McCray looked me up and down, a sympathetic smile on her face. “Did you fall for it? Buy in to the scheme already? Conflict of interest?”
I glanced at Peter, hoping he’d help me out already. I knew he didn’t want me working the case—why wasn’t he saying anything?
“Uh… not exactly….”
Finally, Peter shifted on his feet, seeming to drag himself from whatever depressed reverie he’d been lost in. “Sorry, Chief, I’m afraid I have to agree with Jo—Miss Hartgrave.”
I raised a brow. Oh. I was Miss Hartgrave now, huh? A hot burst of indignation flared in my chest. I crossed my arms. All this distance between us just because I’d told him I was a shifter. Wow.
“I’m not sure it’d be appropriate for her to—”
McCray held up her palms and cut Peter off. She looked between the two of us. “Let me get this straight—Miss Hartgrave is not only a witness to this murder, but also our resident pet psychic—and neither of you wants her to be working this case?” She arched her thin brows and let out a chuckle, though her eyes were hard. “If I didn’t know better, I’d assume you two were letting personal quibbles get in the way of being two professionals concerned with getting justice for a murdered wo
man.”
Oh, snakes. I’d forgotten how off-kilter this woman always made me feel. Her good-natured, friendly demeanor put me at ease—until she revealed that no-nonsense, incisive layer underneath.
Peter’s throat bobbed. “I see your point, Chief.” He turned his pale face my way, eyes flat. “If Jo—Miss Hartgrave wants to work the case, then I will of course willingly work with her.”
Oh, willingly, huh? I rolled my eyes. How big of him. I spun to face the chief and plastered on an overly bright smile. “Of course I want to work the case.” I flashed my eyes at Peter. “I’m in! And I’ll also willingly work with Officer Flint here.”
He sniffed and slid his gaze past me.
Wow. This was super comfortable.
“Have so much fun.” Will squeezed my shoulders from behind.
Yeah. Sure.
“We’ll meet you back at the clinic later.” He lowered his voice. “And we expect a full report.”
Heidi flashed her eyes at me and mouthed, “Good luck.”
I looked from the hard-to-read McCray to Bon’s glowering face to Peter, who could barely look at me, and finally to Daisy, who’d ratted me out in the first place. I’d need all the luck I could get.
6
The Body
Chief McCray led the way through the mostly empty auditorium. Several officers moved among the rows of seats, evidence bags magically hovering beside them as they collected bits of paper and other things left behind by the crowd after Mama Pearl had collapsed onstage.
I shivered. Our footsteps echoed through the cavernous auditorium. It’d been packed with people and vibrating with energy just an hour before. Now it was, almost literally, dead.
“Have you all heard of Potent Potions?” McCray glanced back as we snaked across the auditorium floor in a single file line. She looked past Bon, Peter, and Daisy to me, in the rear. “I know you’re familiar with it, Miss Hartgrave, since you were attending the event of your own free will.” She climbed the steps to the stage, nodded her greeting to the officer posted by the stairs, then strode forward toward the body and the small crowd gathered around it.
“I don’t mean to speak ill of the dead,” she continued once I finished climbing the steps behind everyone else. “But I sincerely hope you’re not wrapped up in this scheme, are you?”
I couldn’t answer fast enough. “No way.”
The chief nodded, her short, winged blond hair bobbing. “Good, good.” We neared the woman sprawled out on the stage. The woman in the lab coat who’d first jumped on stage when Mama Pearl collapsed still hovered nearby, intently watching all the cops and techs who worked around the dead woman’s body. Mama Pearl still lay there, open eyes unseeing. I cringed and hung back for a moment. As a lawyer, I’d seen plenty of pictures of crime scenes, but I was still getting used to being around bodies.
McCray crossed her arms and leaned close, lowering her voice. “My cousin won’t shut up about the stuff. They claim their potions cure diseases, make you lose weight, help you sleep better, look more radiant, blah, blah, blah.” She rolled her eyes.
“There’s no end to the claims they make—not officially, of course, but many of their reps try to sell it that way. Take my cousin, for instance? She’s trying to tell me one drop of Blood Be Clean will cure me of my rabies from a childhood chimera bite. I mean, it’s been in remission for years anyway, but come on.” She scoffed.
I shot her a side-eye look. That was a little more information than I wanted.
Daisy trotted forward, and I raised a hand to block the bright overhead light that shone blindingly down on the stage. The reflection off the polished wood floor was almost as bad. The dog slid between two techs, one of whom magicked Mama Pearl’s bracelet off her wrist and floated it into an evidence pouch.
Daisy lowered her face to the body, her wet, black nose twitching. She suddenly recoiled, face scrunched up, and gagged. I stifled a smirk as she backed up and licked the roof of her mouth.
As she rejoined our little group, I crouched down beside her and quietly woofed. Yeah, Days, it’s a dead body—probably not gonna smell good.
She whipped her head around to face me and shot me a flat look. No, that’s not it. I’ve sniffed plenty of dead bodies.
I raised my brows and whined. Spoken like a true creep.
The dog scrunched up her nose and huffed. She reeks of lies.
I cocked my head and quietly barked. Well, she was the founder of a pyramid scheme, so… not surprised.
I frowned as I thought over what she’d said earlier. Hey—what did you mean about being worried about Peter?
Daisy’s brow furrowed. I don’t know what’s happening, but he’s been so upset. She turned her head to face me, dark eyes wide with concern, and whined, her tone full of horror. He poured my food into my water bowl the other day!
I glanced up at the cop in question and caught Peter staring. My face and neck flushed hot. I rose to my feet and nibbled the inside of my cheek—I’d have to wait to get the deets on Peter. I didn’t know what was weirder—the tension between him and me, or the fact that I was actually kind of getting along with Daisy.
The woman in the lab coat and glasses hovered behind a cop. The guy lifted Mama Pearl’s left hand, which was curled into a tight fist. He pried her pale, lifeless fingers open and took a glass vial from her hand. He held it to the light as the woman behind him watched, rapt.
“Chief! Inspector!”
We all moved closer to the cop who held the vial up in his gloved hand. The bright stage lights illuminated a few drops of glowing red liquid in the bottom. “There’s a bit of the potion she drank left.”
McCray nodded. “Fantastic. Have that sent back to the station and tested.”
The cop nodded and rose, carrying the vial off with him.
The woman in the lab coat rose on her toes and called after him. “Make sure to test it for sulfurs! Hey!” She started after him. “Make sure they calibrate the test—they can be hard to detect if—”
Inspector Bon slid in front of her, blocking her from following the cop. She stopped dead and looked the small man up and down. “Excuse me.”
Bon glowered at her. “Who are you?” He scowled at all the nearby cops. “Who is this woman? Why hasn’t she been sent into the lobby with the rest of the witnesses?”
The cops exchanged nervous looks, no one’s eyes meeting the inspector’s.
The woman stomped her stilettoed foot, and Bon’s attention snapped back to her. “I happen to be Opal Whitaker.” She lifted her chin and sniffed. “I demanded I be here to make sure poor Pearl’s body was treated with respect and all the evidence handled in the proper way.”
“Oh, did you now?” Bon looked her up and down. “I’ll ask again—who in the seas are you?!” His face turned red and splotchy.
The woman glared back at him. “I’m the head potion maker at Potent Potions and…” She gulped. “And the deceased’s sister.”
7
Opal
Now that I knew they were sisters, I could see the resemblance. Though Opal’s long hair was a stark black, it looked harsh against her pale skin and most likely had been spelled that way. She’d probably been naturally blond, like the now dead Pearl. They looked around the same age, too, probably in their midfifties.
Opal seemed to share her sister’s love of all things bling. She nibbled her painted red thumbnail, every finger glittering with rings, and glanced down every few moments to watch the cops moving around her sister’s body. I raised a brow. A little protective much? My stomach twisted. Then again, I didn’t have siblings, so who was I to talk? I didn’t know what it’d be like to lose one.
McCray slapped Peter on the back. “Officer Flint, let’s see the dream team work their magic, eh?”
He straightened his shoulders, steadfastly avoided looking at me, and murmured a quiet, “Come on, girl,” to Daisy. Bon huffed and retreated to go stand beside McCray.
I squeezed my eyes shut tight to avoid rolling th
em. If we were working together now, Peter wouldn’t be able to keep pretending like I didn’t exist for long. Or at least I’d make it hard for him to.
I stepped forward with him and Daisy and approached Opal. She sniffled and looked up at us.
“I’m Office Flint, this is my canine partner, Daisy.” He leveled Opal a serious look, his tone flat, like he’d said all this a thousand times and was too weary to put inflection into it. “I must warn you, she’s enchanted to smell lies, so please be truthful with us.”
Opal paled. I stifled a grin—someone was hiding something.
Peter heaved a sigh that sounded like it came from the depths of his soul. “And this is Jol—Miss Hartgrave, police consultant.”
Opal’s blue eyes landed on each of us in turn, then glanced down at her sister’s body again. A cop turned her head, carefully picking through her blond locks. Opal sucked in a breath. “Careful with her!”
The cop glanced up at her, then went back to work.
Peter’s throat bobbed. “Ms. Whitaker—”
“Miss,” she interrupted, looking Peter up and down. “It’s Miss Whitaker.”
Okay, I couldn’t fight rolling my eyes that time. I leaned into one hip and leveled her a flat look. Did somebody say cougar?
Peter’s cheeks flushed pink. “Miss Whitaker, I assure you our officers will show your sister’s remains the utmost respect, but you need to allow them to do their jobs so we can bring her killer to justice.”
Her throat bobbed, but she dragged her gaze from her sister to Peter’s face and nodded. “Understood. I just—” She glanced down at Daisy. “I just feel very protective over her.”
Peter nodded. “That’s a natural reaction.”
She batted her lashes.
Was flirting with much younger men over your sister’s corpse natural, too?
Peter’s quill and scroll magically appeared beside his head, poised to take notes. “Miss Whitaker, you mentioned you’re the head potions maker?”