by Erin Johnson
She nodded. “And from the tone of the letters I saw… I doubt Ludolf’s satisfied with that. He had grander aspirations than king of the sewers.” She shot an arm out. “No offense… you know, I’m sure the sewers are… cozy.”
I scoffed at her. “It’s fine. I didn’t grow up down there and have only visited a few times. And it’s pretty much what you’d imagine.”
Her pained expression relaxed.
I frowned. “Okay… so what does that mean for Ludolf now that Roch’s been tried for his crimes and locked up?”
Madeline shrugged. “A lot of Roch’s cronies are still at large and still in positions of power. Maybe Ludolf’s still trying to move up the political ladder? But I doubt anyone’s willing to overlook him being a shifter.”
I bit the tip of my thumb. Could Ludolf’s potion obsession have something to do with his attempts to rise up the ranks? Was he working on some project he thought would impress Roch or his cronies? I thought again of all the missing activists, and my stomach turned—how could he do that to his own people?
Madeline splayed her hands. “I told you what I know—now I’m going to need some intel from you in exchange for all I gave you.”
I frowned. “What do you want exactly?”
She scooted closer, knocking over a stack of letters, and looked intensely into my eyes. “I want to do a piece on the secret shifter underground. It’s going to be even bigger than my exposé on Carclaustra, I can feel it. This entire clandestine world below people’s feet—it’s going to blow their minds!”
“Err.” I leaned back in the chair and blew out a heavy breath. “Madeline, this is going to get me in even hotter water with Ludolf.”
She gripped my shoulder. “Girl, he cursed you and is testing potions on you. That’s not going to get better. If I write this piece, at least there’s a chance someone intervenes.”
I sighed. I didn’t have a whole lot of hope for that, but I took her point that it really couldn’t get much worse.
She pointed at the manila folder under my arm, the police file I’d borrowed from Peter. “What’s that? Does it have to do with the Malorie Rutherford case?” Her eyes lit up. “If I could just take a peek at that, we could call it even.”
I shot her a flat look. “Nice try.” I took a deep breath. If I told Madeline about the underground, it’d be taking a step in a direction I could never go back on. Keeping shifter secrets had been embedded in us from a young age, all of us shifters.
To reveal them to an outsider, much less a reporter, felt like a betrayal. I hoped I wasn’t pulling a Ludolf and selling out my own people. Then again, if the current system thrived on secrecy and misinformation about shifters, then maybe this would be a step in the right direction.
Maybe Madeline’s piece would help to get out the truth about shifters and break some of Ludolf’s power. Snakes, I hoped so.
I sighed. “Alright—what do you want to know?”
26
The Bodega
After talking with Madeline, I was just a few streets over from my neck of the woods in the Darkmoon District. I was exhausted from spilling shifter secrets to the thorough, though nosy, reporter, and felt I deserved some treats for all my hard work. I decided to pick up some snacks, with about a gallon of wine, from the corner bodega before heading back up to Peter’s place, where I might share some of it with him.
The bell tinkled over the door as I stepped in out of the rain. A few other shoppers milled about the tight, muggy space, the linoleum slick with muddy footprints. I glanced to my left toward the checkout counter to wave hello at Biddy and Jan—the two middle-aged women who ran the place. But they were both busy ringing up a customer, so I slid a basket over my arm, tucking the police file I’d borrowed from Peter under my armpit.
I browsed the few aisles, shelves packed with food, an assortment of everyday potions and tonics, along with quills, toenail clippers, and black candles. Bright neon lights flashed outside the windows, blurry with rain. I ducked under the bat perches for sale that hung overhead and threw an assortment of items into my basket until I could barely carry it.
I headed to the checkout and heaved my basket up onto the counter. Biddy and Jan worked together to ring me up—Biddy lifting each item and calling out the prices to Jan in an overly loud voice, considering she stood at her elbow. Jan, for her part, punched the prices into the metal cash register, which clicked and whirred.
I grabbed a red lollipop from a cup on the counter and held it up to Biddy. “This too, please.”
“One lollipop—half a merkle.”
Jan tapped away at the register.
As they worked, I unwrapped the lollipop, stuck it in my mouth, then pulled the police file from under my arm and opened it. I flipped through statements, pictures of evidence, the photo we’d found in the safe, and finally examined the photograph of our mystery Jane Doe.
A photograph of the dead body was much easier to tolerate than seeing the real thing in person. I puzzled over her fringed vest and bell bottoms. Why had she been dressed like that? Had she heard the phoenix fundraiser was a costume party and missed the bit about it being animal print themed?
“Why do you have a picture of Maria Begin?”
I glanced up and frowned at Biddy. She held a package of beef jerky in one hand, a bottle of red wine in the other. Jan took the jerky from her and placed it in a paper bag. It took me a moment to register her words.
I closed the file and pulled the lollipop out of my mouth. “Who?”
Biddy and Jan exchanged exasperated looks, then Biddy leaned forward over the tall counter, her dirty-blond hair falling forward over her shoulders. She tapped my file folder. “Maria Begin.”
My breath caught, and I stuck the lollipop back in my mouth and fumbled to open the file back up. I fished out the photograph and held it up for them to see. “You know who this is?”
Jan squinted, then pulled the glasses that hung from a beaded necklace around her neck onto the bridge of her nose. They both peered at the photo, nearly cheek to cheek.
Jan looked from it to me. “Why do you have a picture of someone when you don’t even know who they are?”
Good point. “She’s involved in a case—what can you tell me about her?”
The women looked at each other.
Biddy crossed her arms, expression flat. “She’s still alive, huh?
Jan smirked. “Pay up.”
Biddy shook her head but fished around in the pockets of her overalls.
Jan grinned at me. “We had a bet. Biddy thought she was for sure dead, but I had a feeling she’d turn up some day.”
I frowned, thoroughly confused as Biddy slapped a gold coin into Jan’s hand. “Well, no, actually. This woman is a murder victim… and possibly also suspect?” I shook my head. This was turning into a thoroughly confusing case. Also, had they not noticed the giant gash running from her shoulder across her chest?
Jan’s shoulders slumped. “You sure she’s dead? One hundred percent positive? Dead forever?” She stiff armed Biddy, who was pawing at her hand to get the coin back.
I nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“Hmph. Fine.” She pushed the coin back at Biddy, who looked vindicated.
“I knew it. Dead.” She seemed to catch herself and grew serious. “Sea rest her soul.”
Jan shook her head. “Thought it was a sure thing she’d be alive still.”
Biddy shook her head, her bobbed hair swishing back and forth. “My intuition. You never listen to my intuition.”
Jan spun to face me. “Well, she was alive until recently, right, Jo?”
I nodded. “We’ve been having a rough time even identifying her. You’re sure this is that woman—Maria Begin, you said? What can you tell me about her?”
Biddy opened her mouth, then shut it again. The women exchanged knowing looks.
Jan frowned. “Hm… my memory is so fuzzy these days….”
Biddy bit her bottom lip. “When you get older, it takes more
to grease the wheels, so to speak….”
They both fixed expectant gazes on me.
“Oh, for….” I rolled my eyes, dug around in my pocket, and slapped some gold coins down on the counter.
The women eagerly scooped them up and stuffed them in their pockets, then leaned forward, voices lowered.
Biddy raised her brows. “We haven’t seen Maria Begin around here for ages—what?”
She looked to Jan, who frowned and shook her head slightly. “Probably… over fifty years.”
I narrowed my eyes. Fifty years—the same amount of time that had passed since the last phoenix rebirth event and the disappearance of Malorie Rutherford’s first husband. I had no idea how they were connected, but it seemed unlikely that it would just be coincidence. Then again, Maria looked to be about fifty to me—had she been a baby the last time these two saw her? And if so, how would they have recognized her?
I leaned forward, voice also lowered. “What happened to her?”
Jan shrugged. “Just disappeared one day.”
Biddy snapped her fingers. “Poof!”
I narrowed my eyes. “No one knew anything about what happened to her?”
Biddy lifted a shoulder. “There were rumors, of course.”
Jan nodded. “I heard from Benjamin Hadid’s wife, you know, the fishmonger who got caught up with that awful—oh, what was his name—”
Biddy shook her head. “Nah, you can’t trust those fishmongers—such braggarts.”
I bounced my leg, impatient, and stuck the lollipop back in my mouth.
Jan waved it off. “Anyway, I heard Maria got in over her head with Ludolf.” She barely breathed his name.
I grew still. “She was a shifter?” Had she gone behind Ludolf’s back somehow? Stolen money from him?
Jan scoffed, and Biddy nodded. “And how.”
I frowned. “What does that mean?”
We were standing with our faces so close that I nearly had a heart attack when Biddy lurched upright and shouted, “You break it, you buy it!”
I whirled around. A young lady curled her lip and slowly replaced a glowing gold potion bottle on the shelf. Biddy kept her eyes fixed on her for a long moment, then leaned back down.
She dropped her voice back to a hushed tone. “It means she was pretty unique, even in the shifter world.”
“Oh, yeah?” I sucked on the candy. “What’d she turn into?”
Jan raised her brows. “A phoenix.”
I nearly choked on the lollipop. “A—phoenix?”
The ladies nodded. Jan shrugged. “It’s why I bet she was still alive, even after all this time—whole rebirth thing, you know?”
Biddy patted her back consolingly.
I couldn’t breathe. A phoenix? Holy snakin’ shell. My mind raced. That meant that the mystery woman, Maria Begin—she hadn’t broken into the cage the other night—she was already in it! She was the phoenix!
27
The Phoenix
I ripped off a hunk of beef jerky with my teeth and paced around the lobby of Will’s back alley veterinarian clinic. Will, on his stool, rolled closer to Heidi, who sat behind the tall front desk, picking through the brown paper sack I’d brought with me from the bodega. She pulled out a jar of olives, and Will made grabby hands. She passed it over to him, then shoved her entire arm into the bag, fished around, and pulled out a bag of potato chips.
“Nice.” She grinned and settled back onto her stool, then ripped the bag open and went to sea, crunching away.
I rolled my eyes and kept pacing—glad to see all the junk food I’d bought was going to good use. On second thought… “Bust open that wine while you’re at it?”
Heidi grinned and nodded, mouth full.
Will held up a long finger. “I want a glass, too.”
Heidi cringed as she waved her wand over the bottle and the cork magically popped out. “No glasses—but we do have beakers.”
Will and I exchanged looks, I nodded, and he turned back to Heidi and shrugged. “They’re sterile, right?”
About half an hour and a bottle of wine later, Peter and Daisy knocked on the door, and I opened it for them, ushering them out of the chilly, drizzly night.
“Finally.” Will crossed his long, beefy arms and legs. “Jolene wouldn’t tell us anything until you got here.”
I hadn’t wanted to tell them my new intel until everyone was gathered. I gave Peter a quick kiss hello and tossed Daisy a hunk of beefy jerky. She pulled her head back, letting it fall to the floor, and shot me an indignant look.
I raised my brows at her, and her nose twitched. The whites shone all around her eyes, and she darted over to where it’d fallen and gobbled it up.
Peter rubbed his cold hands together and blew on them as he settled into one of the hard reception area chairs against the wall. “So what’s up?”
I raised a brow. “First, I went to see Madeline.” I stood between the tall reception desk and the coffee table in the center of the L-shaped lineup of chairs. I looked between Peter and my friends. “She dug up some dirt about Ludolf—turns out he sold out shifter activists in exchange for the position of mob boss of the shifters from King Roch right after the Monster Wars.”
I set my jaw. “The leaders who were fighting for shifter rights in the face of Roch’s anti- shifter propaganda just disappeared.” I huffed and paced again. “They weren’t sent to Carclaustra, so I think we can all guess at what happened to them.”
“That’s messed-up,” Heidi breathed, her eyes round. She popped another chip in her mouth.
I nodded.
Peter cleared his throat. “You’re telling me Madeline found evidence that King Roch ordered Ludolf to kill these leaders? That could be all we need to arrest him.”
I shook my head. “Ludolf told him the location of a meeting between the leaders. I’m assuming Roch took care of all the killing.”
Peter slumped back in his seat, and Daisy rested her head on his thigh. “And there’s no point in arresting Roch again—he’s already been sentenced to life in Carclaustra.”
Will spat an olive pit into the lid of the jar. “Is this the fascinating news you gathered us all together to hear, Jolene?” He shot me a flat look.
I rolled my eyes. “There’s more.” I flashed my eyes at Peter. “I have a couple of informants who identified our Jane Doe.”
He sat upright. “Yeah?”
I nodded. “She’s Maria Begin, a shifter who disappeared about fifty years ago.”
His eyes lit up.
“Guess what she shifts into? A phoenix!” I held my hands near my head. “She was the snakin’ phoenix!”
I was satisfied by Peter’s reaction. His jaw dropped, then he frowned, then he cocked his head, then closed his mouth and grew pensive.
I raised my brows and addressed them all. “The ladies at the bodega recognized Maria because she looked the same as when she disappeared over fifty years ago, down to her bell bottoms and fringed vest. At first I wondered how that could be possible, but think about it. As a phoenix, she was reborn every fifty years—she’d never age beyond that.”
Peter ran a hand over his mouth. “Did Malorie Rutherford kill her? Why would she?”
I nodded. I’d been giving this a lot of thought since Biddy and Jan had identified Maria. “Maybe when Malorie fell into the cage, the phoenix, Maria, saw her opportunity to attack her captor for all these years.”
Peter nodded, mulling it over. “And Malorie fought back with the talon she wore as a necklace?”
Will pressed his lips tight together. “Talon, huh? Phoenix talon?”
I frowned. “Yeah, how’d you know?”
He shook his head. “It’s rumored to be the only thing that’ll kill a phoenix. One of its own talons to the heart.”
Peter and I exchanged looks. Maria had been slashed across the chest with the talon, so… yeah, that would do it.
Peter frowned. “But how would we explain the phoenix shooting the poisoned dart into Malor
ie? How would Maria have gotten ahold of the dart or the gun?”
I bit my lip. “Mark admitted to stealing potions from the office—maybe he stole a poison dart and the blow gun while he was at it and gave them to Maria? Maybe the phoenix promised him something… or maybe he just felt bad for her being trapped there. He hinted to Quincy that he knew the truth about something shady going on at the sanctuary.”
Will popped another olive into his mouth. “How would Maria, in phoenix form, have shot Malorie with a poisoned dart?”
My shoulders tensed—good point.
Peter, from his seat by the door, turned his palms up. “Maybe when Malorie attacked the phoenix, Maria turned back into her human form? And then she was able to use the dart gun on her?”
Heidi frowned and crunched on a mouthful of potato chips. “Malorie was pushed into the cage from the second story and hit her head pretty hard, right?”
Peter and I nodded.
She tipped her head to the side. “So Maria saw her fall, changed into human form and grabbed a blow gun and poisoned dart the veterinarian had smuggled in for her, maybe, and aimed it at Malorie? And then she came to and managed, while her head was bleeding, to slash Maria in the chest with her talon necklace? And somehow Maria then shot Malorie in the back of the neck with the dart and they died at roughly the same time?”
Peter heaved a heavy sigh. “And there were no signs of a struggle.”
Heidi flashed her eyes at Will, then said in a doubtful tone, “Riiiggghttt.”
She had a point. I shook my head. “And then, how did the blow gun end up in the hallway of the sanctuary?”
Will licked his finger, then held it up. “Besides, you’re assuming Malorie was keeping this phoenix lady captive for what—fifty-plus years? Ha.” He raised a bushy brow. “Um… if that’s so, why wouldn’t Maria have just shifted to human form earlier, like during some public tour, and been like hey, let me out of this cage, dum-dums?”
“Ooh!” Heidi bounced in her seat and clapped her hands. “What if the phoenix wasn’t a captive. What if Malorie was protecting her? You think it was like witness protection or something?”