by Erin Johnson
“Oh Harold, you’re terrible!”
The group of middle-aged men and women to my left tittered. Heidi caught my confused look and leaned close, her voice low.
“Have you heard about Malorie Rutherford?”
2
Up in Flames
“Malorie Rutherford…” I shook my head. “The hostess? What about her?”
Heidi’s dark eyes lit up and she edged closer. “Okay, my friend Jilly, the one who owns the catering company? She filled me in. Apparently, Malorie Rutherford has a reputation as a black widow. Everyone thinks she killed her first husband, Richard Rutherford. No one’s ever found the body, but get this—he disappeared exactly fifty years ago, at the last Night of the Phoenix party.”
I tipped my head to the side. That’s right—the phoenix apparently burst into flames, burned to a crisp, then was reborn from its own ashes every fifty years like clockwork. I arched a brow. “So everyone’s wondering if watching a bird spontaneously combust is going to put our hostess in a murdery mood again?”
My friend giggled. “Something like that.”
I nodded. “Alright. Well, give me all the goss. What do people think happened to him?”
Her gaze shifted over the heads of party guests. “I’ve heard it a few ways. Some people think she fed him to their three-headed wolf. Others think she threw the body into the phoenix’s cage and all the remains burned up.”
I nodded. “And why did she kill her beloved?”
“Get this.” Heidi splayed her hands. “Malorie was twenty at the time, and Richard was fifty.”
I raised my brows. “Quite the age gap.”
My friend nodded. “Richard Rutherford left his wife and daughter, who was barely younger than Malorie, to be with her. Everyone thought she was a treasure digger. People think she killed him so she could inherit his estate. Within months of his disappearance, she remarried to their gardener.”
I chuckled and pressed my eyes closed. “Of course she did. Story as old as time. Murder your older husband using a firebird so you can marry the gardener.”
“Ahem. Er—good—good evening?”
I opened my eyes and looked past Heidi toward the raised stage. The crowd quieted down as all eyes turned toward the tall, thin man with enormous ears who stood atop the stage, narrow shoulders slumped.
“Thank you all for coming tonight. I, uh—” He scratched the back of his neck and looked behind him at the curtained-off cage, then scanned the crowd. “I apologize. My wife, Malorie, usually does the—the hosting.” He chuckled nervously, and polite laughter floated up from a few pockets among the hundreds of guests.
Heidi spun back around to face me and mouthed, “It’s him! The gardener!”
I grinned and nodded, then we both turned our attention back to the clearly nervous man. He wrung his hands, playing with an empty skewer.
“But as she’s, um—not available, I suppose….” He scanned the crowd again as if searching for his wife. “Malorie?” He raised his thin brows above the rims of his large glasses and looked hopefully out over the sea of faces.
His expression fell, and he shook his head. “Ah, well. I suppose you are all here to, uh—to see the phoenix. And as she’s about to start her change—her transformation—we’d best not delay. So, uh—the phoenix.”
He swept his thin arms toward the red velvet curtain behind him and seemed to shrink, as though he were trying to retract his head down into his shoulders. An awkward silence followed, and then the crowd applauded in a few faltering starts, until it caught on and everyone clapped. The guy was clearly used to his wife taking the spotlight. I wondered if all the gossip about her killing her first husband had caused her to hang back in the wings.
The curtain jerked skyward, revealing the enclosure behind. Lush, tropical plants and a two-story-tall waterfall filled most of the space. A woman beside me gasped and pointed. Several other cries rose from the crowd. I rose on my toes and planted a hand on Heidi’s shoulder to balance myself as I strained to see what everyone was getting upset over.
The tall, thin man on stage blinked, then turned toward the enclosure and startled. “Malorie!”
I caught a glimpse of two women—one blond, the other with dark gray hair—sprawled on the ground, unmoving, inside the phoenix enclosure.
3
Dead, Dead, Goose
“Help! Someone help!” The tall man’s face had gone pale. “Call an ambulance! Summon the police! Help!” He reached into the pocket of his alligator print tux and withdrew a quill. He dropped it, then reached back in and pulled out his wand. “Malorie! I’m coming, sweetie.”
His lips moved, like he was trying a spell, his hand shaking badly. He dropped his wand, stooped to pick it up, then spoke again. The magical force field around the enclosure shimmered, and he pushed through, dropping to his knees beside the blond.
Someone shouted something about the phoenix, and the thin man looked up. He swept his wand, a flash of light erupting from the end, then turned and looked over his shoulder toward all the partygoers. “The phoenix isn’t in here anymore! It’s gone!”
I rose on my toes as the crowd erupted in cries, some scrambling to get a closer look, others rushing toward the exits. I couldn’t see much, except the man cradling the blond’s head in his lap, rocking. I sucked in a sharp breath and sank back down on my heels. “Snakes.”
I lurched as someone slammed hard into my left shoulder. Shouts and screams sounded all around us as word spread and the party erupted into chaos. The sharp crash of breaking glass sounded, and the sea of partygoers churned and jostled as most headed for the exits.
“A killer’s on the loose!”
“Where’s the phoenix? It’s going to erupt any moment now!”
“It’s on the loose! The phoenix could burn us all alive!”
A woman shoved past me, whimpering. “Who knows what other creatures could be out.”
Heidi grabbed my hands and huddled close to me, her dark brows pinched with worry. “What do we do?”
I gulped. “Alright, can you tell Peter what’s going on?”
She squeezed my hands even tighter, eyes wide, but nodded. She raised a trembling hand to her ear and pressed the magical communication device with one finger. “P-Peter?”
She nodded at me, and I leaned close and spoke into her ear.
“Hey, Flint—it’s your girl.” I grinned to myself—wouldn’t get tired of saying that, even in the middle of a real situation. Screams sounded, and more shattering glass made my shoulders hunch.
“What’s going on?”
I pressed close enough to Heidi to make out Peter’s faint, deep voice through the device. “Two women appear to be dead inside the phoenix’s cage, and the bird itself appears to be missing—it’s total chaos in here. We need an ambulance, and if you and Days can get in here, that’d be great.” I glanced up at the stampeding guests. “Also, all of our fancy-pants witnesses and suspects are headed toward the exits right now, so you should probably lock the gates before they all hightail it out of here.”
“Stay safe. We’ll be right there.”
Static sounded, and I leaned back, feeling more reassured. Peter would handle everything. In the meantime, I squeezed Heidi’s hand. “You okay?”
She blinked, looking slightly stunned, then nodded and straightened. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”
I nodded at her. “Head back to the kitchen and wait there. It’ll be quieter and safer.”
“What about you?”
I glanced toward the phoenix’s enclosure. Behind it, a suspended wooden pathway, like a rope bridge, threaded through more lush tropical plants. Glowing eyes peeked out from behind large leaves, and from the depths of the sanctuary, monkeys screeched, bears roared, and wolves growled, no doubt alarmed at the chaos. I certainly hoped the panicked guests weren’t right and that even more creatures besides the missing phoenix were on the loose.
I let out a breath. “Given the number of animal witnesses, I’m
guessing I’ll be working this one.” I gave her a brief grin. “I’ll come find you when I can.”
She nodded, then we parted ways, Heidi heading toward the kitchen while I dashed toward the phoenix enclosure in little spurts, dodging stampeding guests. The palms and tropical plants with leaves larger than my head loomed closer, the soft rush of the waterfall barely audible over the cacophony of the guests jostling to get out. I shouldered my way through the lineup of gawkers to get a look.
Both women lay mere feet away on the pad of black volcanic rock near the front of the raised enclosure, at about my chest height. I scanned the cage—from the lush vegetation, to the waterfall and the small pool behind the women, to the railing on the second story that overlooked everything.
The thin man continued to hold the blond, wailing and rocking. With his back to me, I couldn’t see much, but made out some dark blood pooled on the ground near her head. Her sequined orange-and-red dress, glittering with flames, bunched around her knees.
The other woman looked to be about fifty years old judging by her long, dark gray hair and the lines around her eyes. She was dressed in bell bottoms, a fringed leather vest, and a shirt with wide lapels. She looked like she was straight out of the 70’s. Had she thought this was a costume party, or just gotten the theme wrong?
The thin man turned and looked over his shoulder in my direction, toward the rest of the guests. “Is there a doctor?!”
A door in the back of the enclosure that had been camouflaged as part of the rock wall burst open. A dark-skinned man in a white lab coat dashed inside, a cigarette hanging from his lips. “What the— Let me see her.”
Malorie’s husband shook his head. “A human doctor! You’re a veterinarian, Mark!”
The vet rushed forward and dropped to his knees. “Better than nothing. Let me see her.”
Malorie’s husband moved to the side as the vet took the blond’s face in his hands. I glanced toward the other woman. Was no one going to help her?
Mark, the vet, gently felt around the blond’s throat, then rolled her onto her side and jerked back. He shook his head and slumped back. His chest heaved as he stared at the blond. “By the waves.”
I gasped as I spotted what he’d found. A feathered dart stuck out of the back of her neck.
Mark’s dark eyes shifted to Malorie’s husband. “She’s dead, Quincy.”
Quincy whimpered and covered his mouth, his eyes glued to his wife’s body.
The vet shook himself, then crawled over to the other woman and checked for her pulse at her neck and the inside of her wrist. He shook his head. “Dead, too.” He looked at the pale Quincy. “Where’s the phoenix?”
Quincy let out a gasping sob, scrambled to his feet, and then dashed out the back door of the enclosure that Mark had entered through. The vet stayed slumped on the ground beside the two dead women, and all the guests around me continued to stampede toward the exits. I let out a shaky sigh.
We had two dead women, a missing phoenix, hundreds of panicked potential witnesses and suspects, and a sanctuary full of animals I’d probably need to speak with. This was going to be a long night.
4
Blowing Smoke
Hundreds of shaken guests trickled back into the ballroom after fleeing, clutching their pearls (some literally), and I had no doubt my cop beau had corralled them.
I sucked in a grateful breath when I spotted Peter enter at the top of the steps, flanked by his German shepherd partner, Daisy, and his boss, Inspector Bon. I waved, trying to catch Peter’s eye. Bon, scanning the room, spotted me.
His scowl deepened, his heavy brows burying his eyes in shadow. I rolled my own eyes back at him. It’s how we played. He elbowed Peter, jerked his chin in my direction, and then went back to glowering at everyone.
Unlike his surly boss, Peter’s boyishly handsome face lit up when he spotted me, and I couldn’t help but flash him a bright smile. Despite the two dead ladies in the enclosure directly behind me, happy tingles danced up and down my spine, and my head felt a little light. That could’ve been from the champagne flutes I’d been sneaking off trays all night, but I knew, at least in part, that it was for my handsome cop boyfriend.
Peter spoke with a few other officers before jogging down the marble steps, Daisy trotting at his side. He made his way through the murmuring crowd over to me.
He clicked his tongue as he neared. “I leave you alone for a couple hours, and now we’ve got a double homicide?”
I narrowed my eyes and shot him a saucy look that was ruined by my grin. Since we’d started dating several weeks ago, we’d basically spent 24/7 together, and my cheeks had started hurting on the regular from smiling so much. This guy was turning me soft.
“Careful how you speak to me.” I tapped his chest. His hard, muscled chest. Focus, Jolene. I shook myself and went back to being sassy. “This is an animal sanctuary—who knows how many animal witnesses we have, and I’m the only pet psychic in town.”
Well, I could speak with animals, but pet psychic was my cover so people wouldn’t know I was a shifter and shun me. Thankfully, I’d already confessed all this to Peter, and we’d gotten over his initial trust issues.
His misgivings had more to do with me having lied to him for months, than with me being a shifter. But Peter was one of the good ones. Plenty of magical folk on Bijou Mer discriminated, hard, against you if they caught even a whiff of being able to shift.
Peter’s deep blue eyes twinkled. “Only pet psychic in town, you say?” He let out a low whistle. “Guess I’d better hire you on as a consultant right away then.”
I raised my brows and nodded. “I warn you though, I charge a steep rate.”
He blinked, surprised. “Oh?”
I stepped closer and grabbed the lapels of his uniform jacket. “Mm-hmm. We might be able to work out a special discount.” I gave him an exaggerated wink.
A deep pink flush spread up his neck and into his cheeks.
I rose on my toes, and he leaned down to meet me. I put my lips close to his ear, and his breath quickened.
I whispered, “I accept bonus payment in the form of ramen, stir-fry, and cups of coffee.”
I sank back down onto my heels, and he grinned, then shot me a flat look. “Fine, but this is going to be coming out of your petty cash allowance, and let me tell you, the precinct is not generous.”
I chuckled and slugged his arm. “Alright, enough flirting.” I jerked my head toward the enclosure behind me. “Dead bodies to deal with and all that.”
He shook his head, still grinning, but gave my hand a squeeze and walked with me over to the entrance to the phoenix’s enclosure. Daisy, his magically lie-detecting canine partner, fell into step beside us.
“So, you were able to keep the guests from fleeing?”
Peter looked down at me and flashed his eyes. “Yeah—not that it was easy. I can’t tell you how many times I heard ‘Do you know who I am?’”
“Typical.” I shook my head. “Now if they’d all just wear name tags, we’d know.”
Peter grinned. “We did catch someone trying to climb over the fence on the eastern side of the property with a stolen wombat.”
I choked and snapped my gaze to his face. “A wombat?”
He nodded gravely. “We’ve had a rash of wombat robberies lately.”
I frowned as he got me for a second, then rolled my eyes and nudged him with my shoulder. “Har har.” I frowned deeper. “So you found a wombat, but we’re still missing the phoenix?”
“Seems that way.” Peter let out a sigh, and I had a feeling he was sharing my earlier sentiment—this was going to be a long night.
A few more officers walked over and ushered all the guests who stood gawking at the dead women away, toward the center of the ballroom. With the space near us clear, I let out a quiet “woof.”
Hey, Days.
She shot me a heavy look, her pointy ears slightly flattened, and groaned. You two done with all the heavy petting? She huffed. And t
hey say it’s dogs who like the petting.
I let out a slow whine. Oh, Daisy. The first line was good. The second was overkill. I shook my head. And Germans are so known for their humor and lightheartedness. Not sure what went wrong with you.
She glared at me as we followed Peter through the magical force field, which Quincy had apparently disabled earlier. I frowned as I remembered the way he’d taken off after Mark asked about the phoenix. The thin, older man had apparently dashed off to search for the missing bird, but where was he now?
Peter’s canine partner squeezed her eyes shut and yawned wide, baring all her pointy teeth. She licked her chops a few times and blinked bleary eyes at me while groaning. It’d be easier to make light if I was actually able to sleep at night.
My stomach clenched and I looked quickly at Peter. Help! But with his back to me and Mark the veterinarian already speaking with him, I’d have to field this awkward situation. Peter cast a magical barrier around his bedroom each night (and morning) so that Daisy, who slept in her bed out in the living room, wouldn’t see, hear, or smell anything traumatizing for all of us.
I cleared my throat, then laced my fingers together and let out a quiet woof. Now, Daisy, when a man and woman love each other and want to express that love in a physical—
“Bark!” Stop!
I glanced down and found Daisy staring up at me, the whites showing all around her dark eyes. She barked again, drawing glances from Peter and the vet, as well as a few officers outside.
What are you thinking? I was talking about the neighbors next door having parties until the wee hours.
I winced and waved at Peter, then crouched down next to the German shepherd, feeling absurdly relieved. I mean—if that spell didn’t work, who knew what those giant pointy ears would pick up.
I let out a low whine. You know, forget what I said.
She huffed. Gladly.