by Erin Johnson
8
The Dragon
I ignored the first knock at the door, but when the pounding started up again, I yelled, “We’re closed!”
I probably shouldn’t chase away a potential client, but after witnessing that woman fall to her death, I wasn’t exactly in the mood to explore a hamster’s past life, or whatever.
“Jolene!”
I sat upright on the couch at the muffled sound of my name. Was that—?
“It’s me! Officer Flint.”
I dropped my head into my palm. Of course it was. Why hadn’t it occurred to me that he would be the one to respond to the police signal? His dog had been injured last night while patrolling the night market—this was his beat.
“Coming!”
I pushed to my feet and peeked at the mirror beside the beaded curtain. Not sure why I bothered. My appearance hadn’t gotten any better. I scrubbed at the dried spit at the corners of my mouth and smoothed my eyebrows back.
Kill, kill, kill. I just love to kill things.
My eyes darted to the daddy longlegs in her wispy web above my head. She ate the gnats, so I kept her around, but did all her songs have to be so unsettling? Her tiny, breathy voice didn’t make it any better.
Wrap ’em up while they’re still alive, die, die, eat ’em.
In my experience, all spiders were creepy as shell.
I jogged down the stairs, turned all three locks (I’d thought it best to call it a night after the whole dead woman incident), and yanked the metal door open.
Peter stood there, as tall and handsome as ever, with Daisy at his side. Rain fell and warm, humid air flooded into the stairwell. The officer’s hood kept him mostly dry, but Daisy’s wet fur looked dark and clumpy.
“Hi.” I crossed one arm over my chest and used my other hand to tuck some flyaway hairs behind my ear.
“Hi.” He grinned and hit me with the full force of those boyishly good looks.
I shook myself mentally. He cop. You disgraced, cursed shifter.
“So.” I rocked on my heels. “What brings you by?”
He pressed his lips into a straight line. “A woman across the street died, fell to her death actually, and I’m asking around, checking for witnesses.” A scroll and quill magically hovered beside his head, raindrops splattering the parchment. Did you see anything?”
I shifted on my feet and looked down, the awful moment that woman had flown out the window replaying in my head. “Yeah. I, uh, I actually saw her fall.”
His eyes widened. “Really? Are you okay?”
I smirked. “Better than that lady.”
He nodded, brows drawn together. “Can I come in and ask you a few questions?”
“Sure.” I stepped to the side to let him through, but then remembered the state of my apartment. It was never great, but tonight it was particularly bad. I’d left the jar of pickle juice beside the couch, and at least three pairs of worn underwear were scattered about.
“I mean, no!” I lurched back into the doorframe, blocking his way. “Let’s just talk here.”
His eyes darted to the rainy sky above, then back to me. “Oh. Okay.” Doubt filled his voice.
Daisy let out a huff. Seriously? You’re making us stand out here?
I scrunched up my nose and gave Peter a tight-lipped smile. “Ask away, Officer.”
He grinned. “Peter’s fine.” He stared at me for a long moment, then shook himself and cleared his throat. “Right. So can you tell me what happened?”
I told him what I’d seen. The glass breaking, the woman flying out backwards.
“So you were at the window?”
Rain tapped at the metal gutter that ran over the door.
I nodded. “That obnoxious neon sign came on and blinded me—” I lifted my chin at the pulsing sign across the street, and Peter and his dog turned to look.
It read Darkmoon Outlet, Incorporated in enormous letters that took turns flashing on and off in a rotation of rainbow colors.
“So I got up to close the curtains.” I shuddered.
Peter’s lips quirked to the side. “Do you know the woman who died? Or anyone else in that building?”
“No. I’ve maybe seen them coming and going a few times, but they’re a daytime business. I’m more of a night owl myself, so….” Or at least I used to be an owl.
“Okay, thank you.” The enchanted feather quill scratched away at the scroll by Peter’s head, jotting down notes.
I pressed my lips tight together and nodded. Daisy, now quite wet, glared at me with those dark eyes of hers.
I cleared my throat and broke the awkward silence. “So… your dog seems better.”
Daisy growled. I have a name.
“Hey, wittle puppy.” I laid on the sickly sweet baby talk and reached a hand out to pet her head. Daisy flattened her ears and growled.
Pet me and you’ll lose a hand.
I pulled back and smirked. So despite saving her life, she hadn’t forgotten or forgiven me for being a “lowlife” shifter.
Peter frowned down at her. “Daisy. Come on, be nice. This woman saved your life.” He shot a furtive glance over his shoulder at the several other cops who crouched around the body and ushered bystanders back.
He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “She seems a hundred percent better. I, uh—” He pressed his lips tight together and shook his head, eyes glassy. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am for your and your friend’s help.”
He looked deep into my eyes, and I stopped breathing.
“Thank you.”
I leaned a little closer.
Daisy barked, and we jumped apart. She’s a shifter! She’s lying about her abilities!
“Daisy.” Peter frowned down at her. “What has gotten into you?”
She barked again, tail stiff behind her.
Two could play that game.
I bent forward, hands on my thighs, and cooed at the dog. “Aw, you’re so welcome, wittle girl. Yes, you’re so welcome.”
She snarled back at me, and I chuckled.
“I’m sorry.” Peter’s brows drew together in an apologetic smile. “She’s not usually like this.”
I touched my fingers to my temples. “It’s alright. Some animals get overly excited when they realize I can hear their thoughts.” I tilted my head to the side. “Oh, what’s that? Why thank you, Daisy.” I clicked my tongue and turned to Peter. “She says I’m the prettiest, kindest human woman she’s ever met.”
Daisy lunged at me, teeth bared, and I scrambled back a step as Peter gripped her harness with both hands. He leaned his weight back and dragged her away from me, his expression puzzled.
I cleared my throat once Daisy plunked her haunches down in the cobblestoned street and flattened her ears, defeated. Raindrops trickled down her face as she stared at me.
“So, uh—how’d you end up with a dog for a partner, anyway?”
Peter grinned. “It’s kind of a long story, but Daisy’s enchanted—she can tell if someone’s lying.” He tipped his head from side to side. “She can’t pinpoint exactly what the lie is, but she gets a sense of it, I think. It’s really helpful.”
I snorted. A truth-sniffing police dog? “I bet.”
“Flint!” An officer who crouched beside the tarp covered body waved a hand.
Peter turned.
“You need to see this.”
He spun back to face me. “Better get back to it. If you think of anything else….” He reached into the breast pocket of his navy-and-gold uniform, then handed me a white card with neat black printing.
Officer Peter Flint.
Below it read the address for the jail on the royal grounds, situated on the highest tier of Bijou Mer. I sniffed. And here I was, at the bottom of it.
“Will do.” I waved the card in goodbye as he turned and jogged back into the wet street to join his fellow officers, Daisy at his side.
I latched the locks and made it halfway back up the stairs when another knock at the doo
r sounded. I grinned, a tingle of excitement in my stomach.
He’d probably just forgotten to ask me something. Part of me hoped he wanted to get my number. I mentally chewed that part of me out. What was I thinking?
I jogged back down, smoothing my hair as I went, and yanked the door open.
My tiny, terrifying landlady stood in the door frame. The Dragon!
The hairs on the back of my neck rose.
She glared up at me with her dark, beady eyes. “Eviction’s at midnight.”
9
Eviction Notice
I managed to hold my ground, though every inch of me itched to back away from my landlady. Word on the Darkmoon street was Mrs. Kim was a dragon shifter. Though I’d never seen evidence of this, outside her intimidating demeanor, I hadn’t ruled out the possibility.
I pulled my lips to the side. Though I had to wonder, did dragons wear housecoats and sandals with socks?
I glared down at her. “You can’t evict me.”
Her eyes narrowed to glittering black slits. “Oh?” She snorted, turned her head, and spat onto the broken cobblestones of the street. “You got your rent then?” Rain tapped away at the clear umbrella she held above her head.
I gulped and looked to the side. “I will… soon.”
“You’re a month late!”
I jolted at her volume.
“You pay now or get out tonight!” She bared her teeth at me, several of them missing.
I crossed my arms and widened my stance. “According to city rent code, you’re required to give me three days written notice and—”
“Don’t quote the law to me!”
I gritted my teeth. I may not be practicing, but I was still a licensed lawyer, and I knew my rights. “This is unreasonable expulsion, and if you don’t cooperate, the police can fine you up to—”
Mrs. Kim barked out a harsh laugh. “Right. Like you’re going to get the authorities involved?”
I shifted on my feet. She had me there. It’s not like I wanted anyone looking into my personal situation, least of all a cop. Speaking of whom….
Peter and Daisy jogged through the rain toward us. Mrs. Kim followed my gaze over her head and turned just as Peter and his dog reached us. He nodded at my landlady, then at me.
“Er, sorry if I’m interrupting something, but uh—” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder toward the building across the street. “They have a pet parakeet in the office that woman fell from.”
I sucked on my lips, eager for him to leave me and my cantankerous landlady before all the embarrassing details of my life were revealed. “Okay?”
“Would you mind doing your thing?” He raised his brows and touched his free hand to his temple. “See if he—or she—saw anything?”
“Oh, Officer.” Mrs. Kim clasped her hands in front of her and slightly bowed her head.
I widened my eyes. Where was this sweet, docile tone of hers coming from?
“This woman is not a real psychic. She’s a fraud, who’s about to be a homeless fraud.”
“What?” Peter looked to me, his brow furrowed in concern.
I scrunched my nose and waved it off. “Nothing. I would, but I’m a little busy here.”
Peter looked between the Dragon and me. “I’ll pay you.” He lifted a thick brow. “We’ve got discretionary funds. I’ll hire you as a consultant to help me solve the case.”
My landlady crossed her arms. “How much?”
“Uh—” Peter blinked down at her. “I hadn’t thought about it but—”
“Three hundred merkles.” Mrs. Kim raised her brows, her mouth a tight line.
I shifted on my feet and frowned. Since when had she become my manager? And of course she’d demand exactly my rent money. I rolled my eyes. “Peter, you don’t have to—”
“Okay.” He grinned at her, then at me. “Deal?”
I sighed. It was a job and would earn me rent money and get the Dragon off my back, for a bit at least. Plus, though I could barely admit it to myself, I wouldn’t mind spending a little more time with Peter.
Though dealing with his dog wouldn’t exactly be rainbows and sunshine. Daisy glared at me, teeth bared.
I grinned. “Deal.”
“Great. Hand it over.” Mrs. Kim held out her tiny palm.
Peter chuckled, but she held statue still and stared him in the eyes.
“Oh! You mean… now? Okay…, sure.” He patted his thighs, then reached into the breast pocket of his uniform jacket and pulled out a small leather pouch. He counted out gold coins on his palm, and Mrs. Kim leaned forward, eyes round.
She reached a hand out, but Peter closed his long fingers around the gold. He poured several coins into his other hand and reached around Mrs. Kim, offering it to me.
“Here’s half. I’ll get you the rest once we solve the case.”
I reached forward, but my landlady intercepted it and shoved the gold into the pocket of her housecoat. “That’s mine, thank you very much.”
Peter raised a brow at me, but I sighed. “It’s fine.”
The little lady shook a short finger at me. “I expect the rest in the next three days—see? I’m giving you three days’ time, per the law.” She flashed me a simpering smile. “How generous of me.”
She nodded at Peter, then shuffled off into the drizzly night.
“What was that ab—”
I waved a hand. “Don’t ask.” I cleared my throat, unable to meet Peter’s concerned gaze. “Now let’s go see this parakeet.”
Peter watched me a moment longer, then shifted on his feet. “Do you need help with—”
I couldn’t take this man pitying me. I shivered. “What did you mean, I’ll get paid the rest when we solve the case?”
I locked the door behind me and shoved my key ring in my sweatpants pocket as we started across the street. Cool raindrops pelted my head—because that was just what my hairstyle needed to be even more awesome.
Peter and Daisy fell into step beside me. “Well, I’ve hired you as a consultant on the case, not just for this one parakeet.”
I quirked a brow.
“Who knows? There may be more pets involved that I’ll need you to read the minds of.” He shrugged, a good-natured grin on his face. “I want to get my money’s worth.”
Yeah, well, I supposed three hundred merkles to speak to one parakeet was a pretty steep price. He’d probably only agreed to the fee because he could tell I was in a bind. Still, we’d better solve this case in the next three days, or I’d be homeless.
I snuck a glance at the tall officer as we neared the body, which had been covered in a beige tarp. Man, this guy was too good to be true. He’d probably grown up on a farm, had parents who still loved each other, and helped old ladies across the street.
What was he doing spending time with a trash panda like me?
Daisy, on Peter’s other side, growled. Why are you here? My human probably just feels sorry for how pathetic you are.
Ah. I pressed my eyes shut for a moment. There it was. I was probably a charity case to him. That made sense.
I winked at Daisy and let out a low whine. He’s hired me for the case. Looks like we’ll be working together. I scrunched my nose up in an exaggerated smile. Partner.
Her dark eyes widened.
10
The Victim
Peter hiked his hood up and joined the other officers around the woman’s body. I stopped a couple of steps behind him and crinkled my nose. He might be used to bodies under tarps, but I’d only seen them in photographs when working cases, and I had no desire to get closer.
Another officer crouched beside the dead woman’s head, a magical quill and scroll hovering beside him. Other cops stood watch, their backs to us, keeping back a crowd of people who jostled to get a better look. I crossed my arms. They were like a bunch of vultures.
“Found this, Flint.” The cop handed Peter a camera with a broken lens. “She had it around her neck.”
“Hopefully the film
survived the fall.” Peter turned it over in his hands, then handed it back. “Get any photos developed.”
The other cop nodded.
Rain pelted the tarp over the body, and the flashing neon sign above us cast shifting bright lights over the fabric. Mist wafted up from a sewer grate by the woman’s feet, bringing with it a pungent, rotting smell. Graffiti, band posters, and club flyers collaged the wall behind the corpse.
What a way to go. Dead in a Darkmoon street. I hugged my arms tight around myself. That’d probably be how I ended up one day.
“Did we get an ID?” Peter shifted on his feet.
The crouching cop nodded. “One Bim Pavani, twenty-six.”
“Ma’am?”
I startled and looked at the cop who’d appeared at my left.
His brows drew together in a stern look. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but you need to find somewhere else to be. Maybe a shelter for the night?”
My jaw dropped.
“This street is closed for the investigation.”
I glared up at the mustached guy as indignation burned in my chest. “You think I’m homeless?”
Confusion flashed across his eyes. “Are you… not?”
“Oh my goddess!” I planted my hands on my hips and stomped my foot. “How dare you!”
“She’s with me.” Peter strode over to us, Daisy at his side. “New consultant.”
The other cop’s dark eyes darted between us. “You… sure, Flint?”
Peter nodded and clapped the other cop on the shoulder. “I got this.” He gave me a kind smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Come on, Jolene.”
I lifted my chin at mustache man as I strolled past him. “Yeah. I’m a consultant.”
As I followed Peter through a door labelled Darkmoon Outlet, Incorporated, just like the huge sign overhead, and up a dark flight of stairs, I pulled a loose strand of damp hair to my nose and sniffed it. Did I really seem homeless? I mean, I was on the verge of it, but had I really let myself go that much?
My hair smelled like… unwashed hair. I rolled my eyes. Yeah, it might have been a while since I last showered, and yes, I may have been wearing my oldest, rattiest loungewear, but come on—rude. Whatever, that guy was a jerk.
