Pretty Little Fliers

by Erin Johnson

  I shook a finger at Millie who watched me, wide-eyed. “Someone who had access to the building and knew their way around and also knew the routines of the people who worked here.”

  Her face went slack.

  “Maybe someone who had a crush on Zozanna.” I raised a brow as I paced. “Someone who might have been angered to learn about her affair with Turk. Someone who came here to make her pay, to stop them from having a tryst. But Zo left, Bim came in, and the killer took out the wrong woman.”

  Millie’s eyes narrowed to tiny slits, and I suddenly remembered I was talking about her husband’s affair here.

  I winced. “Sorry—just got caught up in the moment. Whoa.” I shook my hands out. “My nerves are tingling here. Millie—I know who it was.”

  Her throat bobbed, but still she didn’t speak.

  “The courier.” I raised my brows. “Ronnie Johnston.”

  The space between her faint brows creased. “What?”

  I nodded. “Think about it. Your husband said Ronnie always flirted with Zo when he came to pick up or drop off packages, right? She even threatened to go on a date with him to make your husband jealous.”

  Red circles flushed her cheeks.

  Oops. Did it again.

  I waved my hands. “Sorry. Maybe Ronnie grew angry and jealous when he found out about their affair. Maybe he came by late one evening to run mail and discovered them together. He’d have known what it meant then, if Zo stayed late.” I nodded to myself. “Plus, when he came by Bim’s studio to collect packets, he was genuinely surprised and distraught about her death—he didn’t realize, until just then, that he’d killed the wrong person because he’d been blinded by the neon sign and got out of here without seeing the body!”

  I spun around to face Millie. “We’ve got to get Peter—I mean, Officer Flint! They’ve arrested the wrong guy!”

  I frowned as I took in the scene. Millie pointed her wand at me, her expression wan.

  Chills crept up my spine—something was very wrong here.

  She curled her lip back. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  35

  Ironic

  “Heyyy, Millie.” I slowly raised my palms.

  She kept her wand leveled at my chest. “Where’s your wand?”

  I gulped as my pulse pounded in my ears. This was bad—very bad. I now had the creeping suspicion that I’d placed my trust in the wrong person, and was, perhaps, alone in this dark office building with the killer.

  I glanced out the dusty windows to my left. A few stories down below, the street bustled with passersby. Would they hear me if I started screaming?

  “Where’s your wand?!”

  I jumped, and Millie raised her brows at me. The light from the neon sign I’d just flipped on cast her face in planes of red and blue. I struggled for breath, my chest tight.

  “I, uh—I don’t have a wand.” My hands trembled as adrenaline coursed through me.

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “Please.” She scoffed and held out her free hand, palm up. “Hand it over.”

  I gave a little shake of my head. “I really don’t have one.” I mean, I did, tucked up in that box in my closet, but it was of no use to me anymore. I’d lost my powers—why bother hauling it around? I raised my brows and plastered on a smile that felt more like a wince.

  “Could I borrow yours?” I let out a hollow chuckle.

  Millie glared at me.

  Hoo boy. She wasn’t one for nervous, ’bout-to-die humor, I guess. My hands trembled where I held them up by my shoulders. I tried to swallow but my mouth had gone desert dry.

  Without powers, Millie had all the advantage of me. I could maybe outrun her, but I stood in the middle of the large office with only a couple of desks to hide behind. And I couldn’t throw her off by turning out the lights—she stood beside the switch to the neon sign outside.

  Maybe if I could get to the secretary’s desk behind me, I could let the parakeet out and send it to get help. My face fell. Who was I kidding? That bird would probably swoop into the first bar outside and get trapped flying around the ceiling. Not to mention, I was the only one who could speak to it, so not sure how giving it a message would help.

  The tip of Millie’s wand glowed bright red, and my stomach clenched at the thought of what lethal spell she was conjuring up. My mad, panicked brain could only think to stall her—to delay what now appeared to be my inevitable death.

  A heavy blanket of depression settled on my chest. If my life flashed before my eyes now, all I could imagine thinking was, well that sucked.

  But in the interest of extending the suckiness for as long as possible, I tried to engage Millie.

  “It was you, wasn’t it? You killed Bim and Zozanna.” I rolled my eyes at myself. Way to state the obvious, Captain Dur.

  But to my surprise, she answered me. “Yes. And I’m going to kill you, too.”

  Urp. Not the response I’d been hoping for. The tip of the wand glowed brighter as Millie’s expression darkened with deep concentration.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I shook my head. “I mean, I get why you killed Zo—she was sleeping with your husband.” I gulped. “The floozie!” Hopefully I was endearing myself to her through my faux outrage. I gave a little shake of one fist.

  Millie shot me a flat look.

  Yeah. This was not my best work. I cleared my throat, and my gaze darted to the neon sign outside. I recalled my previous theory.

  “I was right—wasn’t I? I mean, kind of. I thought the courier mistook Bim for Zo, but it was you, wasn’t it? You were blinded by the light and killed Bim by accident.”

  A flash of pain crossed Millie’s face, but it passed, and she sneered at me. Her curlers and robe lent the whole situation a macabre sort of levity. “How dare you.” She bared her teeth, and I realized my mistake.

  I waved my hands. “Wait! I mean… it’s totally understandable. No one would blame you for wanting Zozanna dead.” I gulped, my heart thundering in my chest. “You were in such a humiliating situation.”

  “Humiliating?” Millie scoffed, her red-tipped wand still pointed squarely at me. “Why should I be humiliated because of something my stupid piece of detritus husband did?”

  “If you came here to kill Zo, you must have known about the signal, right?” My breaths came in short pants. “You thought she’d be here when you saw the sign go on. You didn’t know she’d left and that Bim was using the office for the night while her studio was being treated for pests.”

  Millie pinched her mouth shut tight, but her chest heaved.

  I pressed on, hoping to get her to break down and stop… or at least stay distracted from killing me for a little while longer. “You had to get away from your husband—you had to keep him from meeting Zo that night.” I nodded as pieces fit into place. “The tea—it was you.”

  Millie sneered. “I drugged him. Snatched the leaves from Martin Shaw’s shop while he was distracted baby-talking one of his plants.” She rolled her eyes. “Men! Anyway, a little makes you sleep…”

  Her expression darkened, and I shuddered.

  “A lot makes you sleep forever.”

  Okay, someone had officially gone off the deep end. “So the tea that poisoned Zozanna—you sent it?”

  She nodded, and my breath caught. I remembered where I’d smelled the tea before—not just at Martin Shaw’s shop, but on Turk the night Bim was killed. He’d reeked of it.

  Millie’s hand trembled. “You don’t know what it’s like! Cheating on me—right under my nose!” Her face, even in the shifting neon light from the sign, glowed red, her eyes wide and wild. “They thought I was too stupid to know what it meant when they flipped on that cursed sign!” She threw an arm toward the window. “We can see it from our courtyard!” Her chest heaved and her chin trembled. “They thought they could just shoot ink in my eyes and I’d never be the wiser.” She peeled her thin lips away from her teeth. “I just wanted my old life back, before she ruined it.”

  I
shifted on my feet and winced. “Well… I mean, your husband had some part in this too….”

  Millie stomped her foot. “Why do you think I framed him for killing Zo, that harlot?!” Her expression held an unhinged fury. Her wand trembled, and she leveled her wild gaze on me. “But I’ll kill the right woman this time….”

  “Wait!” I waved my hands. “How are you going to explain this one away?” I nodded and blew out shaky breaths. “Peter—I mean Officer Flint will figure it out.”

  “Peter, huh?” Millie lifted a brow, though cruelty still glazed her features. “Pretty cozy, you two.” She dropped her smirk and shrugged. “But no explaining needed. You’re a street urchin, a fake pet psychic who got her hands on some money for solving the case and ran with it before the landlady could take the rest.”

  My eyes widened in surprise.

  “You were complaining about it the night I killed Bim, remember?” She raised her brows, lips tight. “You were very vocal about how you were only doing this for the money.” She sniffed. “I’ll make your body disappear. No one’s going to go looking for you.”

  My heart sank all the way down to the stained, threadbare carpet. The neon lights continued to flash across Millie’s face and the tops of the desks. I’d clawed my way out of the slums of the Darkmoon District, fought to become a top lawyer, and even survived losing it all, including my magic.

  Yet, after all that, I was about to die in this bleak office building at the hands of a housewife in a bathrobe.

  And I had to admit, she was right. Peter had paid me—if he ever came back looking for me (which was already doubtful), he’d probably assume I skipped town. Same with Will and Heidi. Something painful twisted in my core.

  Shell, I acted so apathetic all the time, everybody probably expected me to skip out without saying goodbye, even. Man, if I survived this (again, doubtful) I needed to get my life together.

  It didn’t escape me either, the irony of getting killed because I’d decided to care about getting justice more than making money. Only to miss out on getting justice for my own death, because everyone I knew would assume I’d only care about making money.

  Sigh.

  Millie leveled her wand at me, brow furrowed in concentration, and began to mutter a spell.

  36

  Take the Money and Run

  I squeezed my eyes shut tight and half turned away. To my utter surprise, Peter’s face flashed through my mind, with that smile of his. Even as I stood there in that horrible office, waiting for Mille’s death blow, my lips quirked toward a smile as I thought of him.

  The hairs on the back of my neck rose as the air filled with magical tension. This was it. My heart pounded in my chest and my breath caught.

  Footsteps sounded, muffled, to my right. Footsteps? Was someone coming to help me?

  I opened my eyes as Peter and Daisy burst through the door from the storeroom. I could have peed myself, I was so happy to see them, even the mutt—or was that from the stress?

  Peter’s eyes swept the room, and in one fluid movement he drew his wand and leveled it at Millie. “Let it go and back away.”

  Between his deep voice and the danger that limned it, a little shudder ran down my spine. Who knew Peter could do bad cop… and so well?

  Millie’s wand hit the carpet with a quiet thud, and she whimpered as she raised her hands overhead.

  Daisy trotted over, collected the wand, and brought it back to Peter. He took it and turned to me. “Jolene. Are you alright?”

  As I opened my mouth to tell him that’d been sexy as shell, my knees buckled, and the world went black.

  I sat in a wood swivel chair by the window. Peter had cracked it open to let in some cooler air, and I closed my eyes and sucked in a deep breath.

  “Here.”

  I opened my eyes and took the glass of water he handed me.

  “Drink it all.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Thanks, Dad.” I took a sip, then cupped the glass in both hands and leveled him a serious look. “But for real… thanks.”

  Peter grabbed a chair from a nearby desk and rolled it over beside me. Half a dozen other uniformed officers milled about the office space. It looked almost exactly as it had that first night, when Bim died. Only this time, a couple of them escorted Millie out the back, her hands bound by glowing magical handcuffs.

  I watched until the door shut behind her, then turned to Peter. “She was going to kill me.” I raised my brows. “Like, actually kill me.”

  He settled into the chair beside me and stared down at his clasped hands. “I know.” He shook his head and let out a heavy sigh. “I’d been thinking more about what you said—about continuing the investigation.”

  He licked his lips and his eyes flitted to mine. “I knew you were right. I knew we had the wrong guy—I could feel it in my gut. Daisy and I headed back to your place—I wanted to talk over your theories. But you didn’t answer… and then I noticed the sign was on.” He tipped his head toward the window. “And decided to check it out.” He shuddered. “I hate to think what would’ve happened if I hadn’t had the sense to take you seriously.”

  “Yeah, what the shell took you so long to come around?” Grinning, I leaned over and nudged him with my shoulder.

  I froze, my smile gone, as Peter threaded a strong arm around me. “I was really worried about you.” He rubbed my shoulder. “I’m impressed you’re handling this so well.”

  Was I? I scoffed. “I mean… I did pass out.”

  He chuckled, a deep sound. “It’s understandable.”

  I kept very still in case a movement would cause that arm around me to disappear. No one had touched me like this in a very long time.

  We stayed that way for a bit, the other officers taking samples and pictures with old-fashioned cameras—the flashes blinding. The longer the silence stretched on, the more a nagging unease grew in the center of my chest.

  Finally, I shifted in my seat, unable to hold it in any longer. “Peter?”

  “Yeah.”

  I bit my lip and stared down at my knees—one very close to touching his. “Millie said she was going to kill me and make it look like I’d taken the money and run to avoid paying my back rent.” The words spilled out of me in a torrent. “If I’d just gone missing… would you have believed that?”

  “Hmm.”

  I dared a glance up at Peter. His brow furrowed as he thought it over.

  “No.”

  An odd relief flooded through me. Odd, because why did I care so much what he thought of me?

  Something glinted in his eye. “No, you would’ve tried to squeeze some more gold out of me, or at least a tip, before you took off.”

  I gasped, then slugged his side.

  “Ow!” He pulled his arm from around my shoulders and rubbed his ribs.

  The other officers paused and turned to look our way. Peter waved them off, and they went back to business, though a few kept one eye on me.

  I bit my lip and looked at the spot I’d punched him. “Sorry.”

  He immediately dropped his hand from rubbing the sore spot and chuckled. “Just kidding, it’s fine. You need to learn how to punch.”

  “Can I practice on you?” I flashed my eyes at him.

  He leaned back in his chair and chuckled again. “Jolene, from what I know of you, you act like you don’t care but….” He shrugged and looked over at me, a twinkle in his eye. “I can tell that doing the right thing is important to you. That there are people and principles you care about.”

  He lifted a broad palm. “I mean, if you didn’t care enough to figure out the truth, the wrong man would be going to prison and a killer would be running free.” He shrugged again. “You helped me save Daisy when you didn’t have to, and it put you at risk. Jolene—you’re a good person. I wouldn’t have thought that of you.”

  I raised a brow and looked to Daisy, who stood beside him, her tail wagging. She didn’t react, which meant… Peter had been telling the truth. He really thought
I was a good person. A warm flush spread across my chest, and I dropped my eyes to my lap.

  I picked at my fingertips. I had to give Daisy this much—there was something a little nice about this man who didn’t lie. She’d been right about that.

  37

  Perks

  “Ugh.” Will made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat and swept my crossed ankles off his exam table.

  My heels dropped to the floor. “Hey!” Even as I protested, I grinned and adjusted in my chair.

  My giant bear of a friend rolled his eyes. “Now I’m going to have to resanitize that. You happy, Jolene? You happy?”

  I squinted and lifted my face to him, flashing him my biggest smile. “Moderately.”

  He stood at the counter, his back to me, finishing some paperwork stacked up on a clipboard. He frowned at me over his shoulder. “What’s wrong with you?”

  I rolled my eyes and chuckled. “Oh. So a girl can’t be moderately pleased with her life?”

  The crease between his brows deepened as he spun around to face me, the clipboard between his enormous hands. His quill hovered just above the page. “A girl can be—you, though?” He shook his head, a slight curl to his lip.

  I stuck one leg out straight toward him and turned my ankle left and right. “Notice anything different about me?”

  He glanced down at my foot, then back up at me. “Are you high? Have you been huffing potions out of the supply closet?” He lifted his chin and shouted to his assistant, who sat up front at the receptionist’s desk. “Heidi! Did you forget to lock up the potions again?”

  I shot him a flat look. “Ahem. My boots?”

  “Yes?” He lifted a brow and shot me an insolent look. Then, as if unable to help himself, his eyes darted back down to my feet and the new black leather shoes I sported. “Oh.” He dropped to a crouch and ran a finger along the smooth, supple leather of my ankle-high Chelsea boots. He grabbed my ankle and turned it to look at the wood block heel.