by Erin Johnson
I nodded. “Sounds nice. And your wife, Pearl, went with you?”
“Uh….” His bleary gaze drifted to Daisy, who watched him with those intense dark eyes of hers. He shook his head. “Nah. She was supposed to but got caught up worging here.”
“So you went alone?”
“Yep.” He hiccupped.
Daisy growled. Lie.
10
The Pig
Peter jerked his head up, and a grin tugged at the corner of my mouth. Vacationing without his wife? And he’d clearly taken the ring off, since it hadn’t left tan lines. I was onto something—I could feel it.
Ralph cleared his throat. “Okay, I meant, I went without Pearl, but not alone, alone. Our team came along—it was a work event.”
I cocked my head. “Your team being those people who were just in here before?”
He nodded. “And some of our top—hic—consultants—we take them on lots of trips like that as rewards.”
I glared at him. “Including that pretty, extremely young lady with the big blue eyes?”
He frowned. “Avery Ann?” He thumbed toward the door she’d exited through with the others.
I nodded. “She didn’t stay here to help Pearl with the business?”
Ralph pushed himself up straighter and puffed up his chest. His collared shirt was unbuttoned way too low, his white chest hairs clearly visible. “I’ll have you know, I’m an inegral part of—hiccup—the business, too.” He swayed slightly where he sat. “And I needed her more than Pearl did.” His throat bobbed, and his eyes grew even more glassy.
Daisy wagged her bushy tail. Truth.
I scoffed. Yeah, I bet he needed her.
“Besides”—Ralph waved a hand—“Pearl was afraid of airships.” He raised a thick hand to the side of his mouth like he was sharing a secret. “Bad blimp experience as a child.” He let his hand drop. “She’d have had to take a ship out to the island we were staying on, and the trip would’ve been over by the time she’d have arrived—what with the delay from staying behind to handle that work matter.”
“What was the work matter that called her away?” Peter watched Ralph intently.
The guy shrugged. “No idea.”
I smirked. So integral to the business.
“Fine.” Peter nodded. “Stick around—we’ll likely be asking you more questions in the coming days.”
I whipped my head around to look at Peter and lowered my voice. “We should just arrest the guy now.” I flashed my eyes at him. “He handed Pearl the vial, and I think we can infer he was having an affair—at least one.”
Peter’s nostrils flared, and he answered me in a hushed tone. “You heard Daisy—he told the truth about not tampering with it.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine, so his mistress—probably that innocent-looking girl—did it for him. Same diff.”
Peter raised his thick brows. “I’m not saying he’s a great guy, but I don’t get the feeling he killed his wife.”
Oh, he had a feeling? Why was he fighting me on this? I narrowed my eyes, anger making my throat and face hot. “Yeah, well, your feelings can be fickle.”
His expression darkened. “Fickle? No. But they can certainly change when new information comes to light.”
I raised my brows. Oh—so this was personal? I whirled around to face Ralph. “Did you kill your wife?”
Peter shot me a furious look, his face red, blue eyes blazing. I ignored him and waited for the flustered Ralph to answer. Why waste time? We were questioning the guy—we should make it thorough.
Ralph scoffed. “No! I would never hurt my lovely wife.”
Peter and I both snapped our gazes to Daisy, whose ears flattened. She gave the tiniest wag of the tip of her tail. True.
Peter smirked and shot me an I told you so look.
Daisy cocked her head to the side, ears pricked. Mostly.
I flashed Peter a see? It’s not that simple look. Our eyes locked, my body tense, and then his expression went flat, and he turned away again. I let out a breath and my shoulders sagged. Things had been so easy and light before.
Part of me wished I could go back to the time before I’d told Peter the truth about me, so we could laugh together and I could feel the happy tingles again. I swallowed. But another part of me knew it was for the best. I’d gone down that road once with my ex-fiancé and it didn’t end well. Better to tell Peter the truth early on—even if it meant he was done with me.
“Mr. Litt—may my associate have a moment with your, er, pig?”
Ralph blinked at Buttercup, who snuffled in his face and touched her nose to his. He shrugged but pointed an unsteady finger at me. “Fine—but you be good to her.”
I gave him a salute, then rose and moved a little ways away toward the open french doors. I bent forward and patted my thighs. “C’mere, girl!” I whistled. “Here, Buttercup. Come here!” Did pigs come? I looked around for some snack to lure her with.
Luckily, Buttercup stood and trotted over. I crouched down and looked her in her dark eyes. Her pink nose twitched, ears pricked.
I quietly grunted and snuffled. Hey, Buttercup. Can I ask you about Ralph and Pearl?
The pig’s black eyes grew wide and she snorted. You speak pig?
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. I mean… obviously. Instead I summoned patience and nodded. It wasn’t her fault I was in a bad mood—my eyes landed on Peter who continued to speak with Ralph in quiet tones. That honor belonged to Officer Judgy over there. I shook my head. If you’d told me the day would come when I’d get along better with Daisy than Peter….
The pig snorted and grunted. What do you want to know? She blinked her shiny eyes, the picture of cute. And what’s in it for me?
I leaned back in surprise and let out a little squeal. What’s in it for you? I frowned. Serving justice, the inner reward of knowing you’ve helped catch a—
She turned around and grunted. No, thanks. The pig trotted back toward the fire and Ralph.
“Wait!” I lowered my voice and repeated it in pig.
She paused and glanced back over her shoulder, her perfect little corkscrew of a tail in the air.
I put a hand on the cool marble floor and leaned into my other leg, adjusting my crouch. Fine. I let out some snorts. I’ll order you room service, how about that? Anything you want.
She turned around, her hard feet clicking on the tile. Rice pudding. And an orange—make it two.
I fought hard not to smile. Fine. You drive a hard bargain, but you got it.
She lifted her little nose in the air and wagged her tail, clearly pleased with herself. I didn’t know if it was possible, but she certainly seemed to have learned something from her owners. I doubted Ralph and Pearl, the heads of a snakin’ pyramid scheme, did much for anyone out of the goodness of their hearts.
I called over Buttercup’s order to Peter, and he pressed the gumball-sized device in his ear and put her order in. I turned back to the pig in front of me and grunted. Alright, your food’s on the way. Now tell me—did you see Ralph or anyone else tamper with that vial Pearl drank earlier this evening?
The pig cocked her head, eyes narrowed in thought. She oinked a few times. No, but I wasn’t paying that much attention to it. It didn’t smell very good.
I leaned closer, intrigued. I’d forgotten that pigs had good senses of smell. I snorted. What did it smell like? Poison or something dangerous?
Buttercup shook. No. It just didn’t smell like food—it smelled like herbs and liquor. I didn’t want any, so I didn’t pay attention to it after that. She blinked a few times. It smelled like Opal, too.
I bit my lip as I thought that over. Opal said she had made the potion, so that made sense. She’d also told us she hadn’t poisoned it, but maybe she’d made a mistake and done that accidentally. I grunted and oinked. Did it smell like the vials of potion normally smell? Or maybe a little off?
Buttercup snuffled the floor and grunted. No. It smelled normal. Just strong. Her pointy ea
rs pricked. When’s my food getting here?
I sighed. Soon, okay. It’s on its way. I bit my thumbnail as I thought up another tack to try. The vacation…. I snorted. Buttercup, you went on the recent trip to the beach, right?
Her ears wiggled. Yep.
I nodded. You notice anything… out of the ordinary?
Her nose twitched. Nope. Her dark eyes narrowed. I didn’t notice much of anything. She let out a grumpy grunt. Ralph kept pushing me out of our room when ladies would come to visit.
I snorted. Of course he did. Was one of these women Avery Ann? Did they ever spend the night?
The pig grunted. Yeah, sometimes Avery Ann. And yes, they’d spend the night and I’d have to sleep on the couch!
Thanks, Buttercup. I patted the floor before hoisting myself to my feet. So it seemed portly Papa Ralph was a two-timer… but was he a murderer?
11
Avery Ann
Peter and I headed back to the lobby, passing a waiter on his way up with a covered tray magically hovering beside his head. I smirked—that was one spoiled pig. Daisy trotted between Peter and me as we jogged down the stairs and reentered the lobby.
Chandeliers kept the space bright, the place buzzing with energy. Though now that was due to the shock and speculation over Mama Pearl’s death, versus anticipation for the summit.
I scanned the room as we descended the grand staircase but didn’t spot Will and Heidi. I hoped, for their sakes, they’d already been questioned and released. There were thousands of witnesses and possible suspects—the police would be getting their statements and collecting evidence until the wee hours.
I did however, spot Avery Ann—the doe-eyed assistant who’d given Ralph a look that lingered just a little too long. Out of habit, I reached over and grabbed Peter’s arm, jerking my chin in her direction.
“Five o’clock.”
He looked down at my hand, and I hastily released my grip on his hard, muscled arm. A warmth spread through my chest—followed immediately by a pang of annoyance with myself. I shouldn’t find him hot anymore—he’d rather stick by his preconceived prejudices than view the real person in front of him and make up his own mind.
My shoulders slumped as I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He spotted Avery Ann and gave me a slight nod. My heart felt heavy in my chest. Except, he was also the man who’d gone out of his way to help me by giving me a job when he could tell I was in need and had stood up for me to his colleagues and boss, and saved my life more times than I could count. He’d brought me little treats and made me laugh and saw something in me even when I was at my lowest.
I followed him and Daisy down the last few steps and wound through the thousands of white-clad ladies toward Avery Ann, who stood to the side near the auditorium doors. Why couldn’t my life just be simple for once? If he was just a straight-up jerk, I wouldn’t have to miss him so much.
Avery Ann was talking with another lady when we walked up. The woman murmured something in her ear, then moved away. The young assistant spun to face us, her curly ponytail bobbing behind her, and her huge eyes grew even wider.
“Oh! Officers.” She blinked and hugged the clipboard tighter to her chest. “You’re done upstairs with Ralph?”
Peter nodded.
“Oh, okay then.” She flashed him a shy smile. “Then I’ll just hop up there and see if he needs anything.”
Peter sidestepped and blocked her way. “Actually, Miss—?”
She waved a hand and flashed a bright smile. “Oh—everyone just calls me Avery Ann.”
Peter nodded. “Alright. Well, Avery Ann, we’d actually like to ask you a few questions.” He turned to me, brows raised.
I nodded and stepped forward as she looked wide-eyed from Peter to me.
“You—you want to ask me questions?” She touched her fingertips to her collarbone.
I nodded. “We understand that you recently accompanied Ralph Litt on a trip to the Mediterranean?”
She drew herself up taller, shoulders back, chin up—the picture of good posture. “Yes. I was one of about thirty Potent Potions employees and independent consultants chosen to attend a work-sponsored event about two weeks ago.” She gave a self-satisfied nod.
Peter and I exchanged looks—guess he forgot to ignore me that time. She’d just sounded so rehearsed. Something was definitely up here.
Peter stepped in. “Where were you earlier this evening when Pearl Litt collapsed on stage?”
Her throat bobbed, and she took a few quick, shallow breaths. “I work as an assistant for Pearl and Ralph. I was helping coordinate speeches and was standing to the side, ready to cue Opal Whitaker up next.”
I narrowed my eyes. “And what do you do on a normal day for the Litts?”
“I’m their executive assistant—I do administration.”
The girl was nervous—that much was obvious—but was it just normal nerves about speaking to the police or was it because she was our killer? I bit my lip. As much as I’d have loved to catch the culprit and call it a night so this awful awkwardness with Peter could end, I had to admit I doubted Avery Ann was capable of plotting such a thing. Or of plotting anything, to be honest. The girl blinked her huge, vacant eyes at us—didn’t seem like a whole lot was going on inside that head.
Peter cleared his throat, and her attention snapped to him. “Did you handle the vial Pearl drank from?”
She shook her head. “No.”
Daisy wagged her tail. True.
I leaned into one hip. “Did you want her dead?”
She gasped. “No!”
Daisy growled. Lie.
I crossed my arms. So little miss doe eyes wasn’t quite as innocent as she seemed.
“My partner here says you’re lying.” Peter cocked a brow. “It’s a serious offense to lie to a police officer.”
Avery Ann’s eyes grew even bigger as her gaze darted around the room. She inched closer to us and lowered her voice so that she was barely audible over the murmur of the huge crowd. “I didn’t kill Pearl!”
We all three looked to Daisy, who wagged her tail. True.
Avery Ann’s shoulders sagged with relief, and she blew out a breath.
“Then why did you want her dead?” I thought I already had a pretty good idea and it had to do with wanting to be with Ralph—though I had to question the girl’s sanity if she was into that greasy orange older guy.
Her throat bobbed, and her voice stayed barely above a whisper so that Peter and I had to lean close to catch her words. Even Daisy’s big pointy ears swiveled her way.
“I didn’t want her dead—not really, anyway. It’s just—she pushed me! She was really hard on me.”
Daisy wagged her tail but let out a quiet bark. Partially true.
Maybe Pearl had suspected her husband of having an affair with Avery Ann and had been extra hard on the girl. Then again, she didn’t seem like the brightest spell in the book—maybe everything seemed hard to her.
“Did you tamper with the vial Pearl drank from in any way?” A line creased the space between Peter’s brows, and the bags under his eyes seemed even darker.
“No!” The assistant shook her head. “I didn’t even know Ralph had it on him.”
Peter narrowed his eyes. “So you never even touched that vial?”
Her chest heaved. “I’m telling you—no!”
Daisy, who stood between Peter and me, wagged her tail. Truth.
Peter nodded, his gaze far away and lost in thought. I turned to Avery Ann. “Look… were you and Ralph having an affair?”
She recoiled, aghast. “No! And… ew.”
Daisy wagged her tail. True.
I mean, I agreed with the sentiment—ew, indeed—but if they weren’t having an affair, what was going on with those two? I cleared my throat. “Okay. Do you know of anyone else who’d have wanted to hurt Pearl?”
“No.”
Daisy growled, and the girl huffed. “Fine. I just—it’s not right to speak ill of the dead, but
…” She looked around and leaned even closer. “Pearl could be a difficult personality, and she and Ralph had recently made some policy changes that I, uh—” She pressed her eyes shut for a moment. “I heard rumors that some of our top sellers were unhappy.”
“Like who?” I turned my head and gazed out over the sea of thousands of ladies in white.
She shook her head. “I really can’t say.”
Peter let out a heavy sigh. “You’ll have to say if we bring you up to the station for questioning.”
The whites showed around her eyes before she winced and shook her head. “Fine! You didn’t hear this from me, but I’ve heard that Peyton Thornsbury is furious.” She jerked her chin, and Peter and I turned to follow her gaze.
A middle-aged redhead in a white maxi dress with huge black flowers all over it stood surrounded by a small group of fervently chatting women. She sipped from a straw, then said something, and the women around her all leaned closer, hanging on every word.
Peter turned back to Avery Ann. “Thank you for your help. We’ll be in touch.”
She nodded, then dipped her head and scurried off toward the staircase. Peter shrugged. “Shall we?”
Since that was apparently as much enthusiasm as I was going to get out of him, I nodded. “Sure. Why not?”
I followed him and Daisy over to Peyton and her clique.
12
Peyton Thornsbury
Peyton’s self-satisfied smirk died as soon as she turned and spotted Peter, Daisy, and me approaching. The women around her all grew quiet and gaped at us.
“Peyton Thornsbury?”
The redhead lifted a brow and looked Peter up and down. “Yes?”
“We’d like to ask you a few questions.”
The half a dozen women gathered around her all snapped their gazes to her face. The tall woman drew herself up to her full height, nearly eye level with Peter, and squared her shoulders. “Ask away. I’ve got nothing to hide—anything you have to say to me can be said in front of these women.”