Pet Psychic Mysteries Boxset Books 5-8 (Magic Market Mysteries Book 2)

by Erin Johnson

  Daisy whined. True.

  Peter and I exchanged looks. I felt like we’d gotten all we could from Opal and shrugged. Peter nodded, then turned to Opal. “Thank you very much for your time.” We rose, and she showed us to the door.

  “By the way, I heard you arrested Ralph.” She raised her brows. “Does that mean you’re wrapping the case up?”

  Peter paused on the stoop and licked his lips. “We’re still tying up some loose ends, but yes… looks like we’ve caught your sister’s killer.”

  She brightened before closing the door. “Good.”

  24

  All In

  Heidi opened the door to the clinic for me and waved me inside. “Come on in!”

  I stepped out of the foggy alley, looked around the lobby of the clinic, and groaned. I’d come by hoping to convince them to grab a later dinner with me and let me rant about the scam that was Potent Potions to blow off some steam.

  Instead, half a dozen small golden chests littered the plastic chairs and topped Heidi’s tall desk. “Snakes, you guys! How many of these did you buy?”

  Will sat on his rolling stool and uncorked a tiny vial of glowing purple liquid. He raised it to his nose and sniffed. His face crumpled. “Ew.”

  Heidi held up a finger. “Sue told me the worse they smell, the stronger they are.”

  Will replaced the cork. “Makes sense.”

  I dragged both hands over my hair. “Does it, though?” I whimpered at Will. “Really? You, too.” I threw an arm out at the chests and tiny vials scattered around the room.

  Will lifted both bushy brows. “You left before the end of the presentation. You don’t have all the information.”

  I glared at him. “I’m investigating the death of the Potent Potions’ founder and have spent all night snooping around in their dirty laundry, so—”

  “Gross.”

  I rolled my eyes at Heidi. “Figuratively.” I turned back to Will. “So I know plenty. This is a scam.” I pointed around the room at all the merchandise. “You should insist on getting your money back—immediately.”

  “Did you know you can make up to fifty thousand merkles a month? A month!” Will’s already huge eyes got bigger. He sighed, his gaze dreamy. “I could get my penthouse back, eat at Oyster Blue every night….”

  “Get my own place….” Heidi swept over, glossy pamphlet in hand. “Look! These ladies even earned the super bonus and got a company-branded airship! Eek!” She squealed, then immediately sobered. “So, want to join my downline?”

  “Uh!” Will gasped. “How dare you!” He rolled over on his stool. “Jolene, we’re closer. You’ll be in my downline, right?” He winked.

  I backed away from both of them. “You’re both delusional—I’m not going to be in anyone’s downline.”

  Will looked smug. “That’s what I said, too… and look at me now!”

  I shook my head at him. “Yeah. Look at you.”

  I felt like I suddenly weighed a thousand pounds and just wanted to be sleeping in my bed. I couldn’t handle the zombie horde of Potent Potions taking over my friends’ minds on top of everything else I had going on. “Okay, suckers, I’m going home.”

  “Wait!” Heidi grabbed my hand, and I paused midstep.

  “What?”

  She held up a vial of orange, bubbling liquid. “Who needs sleep? Try Pick Me Up Orange for a little more pep in your step instead.” She uncorked the bottle and wafted it under my nose. I recoiled from the sickly sweet smell. “Only forty-five merkles.”

  I frowned at her. “I can barely afford my rent—no.”

  Will rolled over and bumped her out of the way.

  “Hey!” She stumbled a few steps away.

  Will winked and held up a gold liquid with steam curling into the air. “Try Bags BeGone to help with those unsightly under-eye circles you’ve got.” He circled an enormous finger in the direction of my face.

  I shot him a withering look. “Wow. What salesmen you two are.” I backed away toward the door. “First of all, you know that stuff doesn’t work, right? Pearl and Opal and everyone claiming beauty enhancements from these things is full of detritus—”

  “Psh.” Will and Heidi exchanged disbelieving looks. My friend, a former top surgeon on the island, turned to me. “Oh! We know—those women have had so much work done.”

  He and Heidi chuckled.

  My jaw dropped. “Am I missing something here? You two know the potions aren’t doing what they claim, and that it’s the result of magical medical enhancement? Then why’d you still buy all this stuff?”

  Will held up a long finger. “Answer me this—how’d they get so much money for the procedures, huh?”

  Heidi nodded. “That stuff’s expensive.”

  They giggled at each other. “We’re gonna get so rich.”

  I heaved a great sigh. “Sure. Totally.” I grabbed the door handle. “Point two, I’m not going anywhere near those potentially contaminated tiny vials.”

  Will’s smirk faltered. “What?”

  I raised my brows. “You’ll get no sympathy from me if you turn into a lizard.”

  Will shot a questioning look at Heidi, who waved it off. “Just rumors.”

  I shook my head. “Nope. I met the lizard man personally earlier this evening.” I yanked the door open.

  Will had a moment of pause, then shrugged it off. “I’m sure he did something wrong, then.”

  Ah, the self-soothing delusion of those committed to believing. I rolled my eyes. “I’m going home and hope tomorrow I wake up and find this was all a nightmare.”

  “Ooh!” Glass tinkled as Heidi rummaged through one of the golden chests. “There’s a potion for nightmares.”

  25

  Lies

  The next night, I jogged down my steep stairs to find Peter and Daisy outside my front door. Peter’s scruff was even bushier and his eyes just as bloodshot, but as I stepped into the drizzly night I smelled coffee on him. I pondered this as I turned my back and locked up. He stopped to get coffee but didn’t bring me any. He always used to bring me some.

  I tried to stuff down the sinking sadness in my gut. I guess I’d partly hoped that by working together again, we’d be able to work past some of this. But each interaction only seemed to cement our new dynamic—distant and functional. I heaved a great sigh and shoved my hands into the pockets of my old quilted green bomber jacket. I missed the old Peter and our easy, flirty vibe. But no point wishing for what couldn’t be.

  “We looked into Maria Wu’s alibi.” Peter’s voice came out flat. “Didn’t check out.”

  I scoffed. “Huge shocker there.”

  He nodded as Daisy trotted along up ahead. She turned her head this way and that, sniffing at passersby and food carts. Neon signs flashed overhead, blanketing her glossy, damp fur in bright oranges and hot pinks. A bell tinkled to my left as a man, hood up, ducked out of the corner bodega, and squeaks sounded overhead as bats winged down the narrow street.

  “I just came from her place.”

  I looked up, surprised he’d gone to see Maria and Iguana John without me. “And?”

  “She confessed she was actually speaking with one Madeline L’Orange.”

  I smirked. Despite her nosiness and pushiness, I’d liked the reporter the couple times I’d run into her. She had a nose for the truth, and I admired her relentless attitude. “So… we’re heading up to The Conch headquarters?”

  Peter nodded. “There’s something else.”

  We stepped around a steaming sewer grate as a steady mist of rain chilled my face.

  “Ralph Litt has continued, under hours of questioning, to answer truthfully that he didn’t kill his wife.” Peter shook his head, brows pinched together. “He’s a slimy scumbag, but I don’t think he killed his wife.” He shot me a grim look. “We have the wrong man.”

  I nodded and resisted the strong, strong urge to tell him “I told you so.” Then again, I hadn’t been right about the affair between Ralph and Avery
Ann, so I couldn’t exactly brag, either.

  We plodded uphill in silence, rain trickling down the stone gutters past us, the cobblestones growing more even as we climbed. I balled my freezing hands in my pockets and wished again for that coffee Peter used to bring to warm them up. Guess we really weren’t friends anymore—I’d just have to accept that.

  Daisy glanced back at us, and her ears flattened. She slowed her pace and sidled up on my other side. With the streets empty, I woofed at her.

  What’s up, Days?

  She blinked her huge dark eyes at me, then looked around me at Peter and whimpered. Are you going to translate for us again?

  My stomach twisted, and I pressed my lips tight together before whining back. Sorry, Days, but I don’t think Peter’s in the mood to talk to me like that.

  But… Her ears swiveled toward Peter. I’m worried about him. I want to ask him what’s wrong. I keep dropping my ball in his lap, but he won’t throw it for me. Her eyes grew wide. He won’t even play with the stuffed dolphin—and that’s his favorite.

  I bit back a grin and woofed. Well, I think I can help you out with the why, at least. I told him I was a shifter, and I think he’s still pretty upset with me over that.

  The dog’s ears tucked back. But… you told him the truth.

  I nodded and snuck a glance at Peter, who kept his eyes straight ahead. I could tell he was listening but pretending not to. I let out a quiet huff. Sometimes, the truth hurts.

  Daisy didn’t say another word, but with her furry brow pinched and ears back, she seemed to ponder this as we headed toward the island’s newspaper headquarters.

  26

  Madeline L’Orange

  We didn’t have far to go, as the Conch headquarters sat on one of the lower tiers of Bijou Mer in a dilapidated warehouse made of crumbling bricks and cloudy windows. The inside wasn’t any fancier and smelled faintly of mildew.

  We climbed a dark stairwell past the magical machinery on the ground floor that actually made the papers to the offices on the second story. A receptionist pointed Madeline’s desk out to us, then returned immediately to his station, littered with papers and ringing bells sounding various alerts.

  Peter, Daisy, and I threaded through a maze of brown filing cabinets and scratched metal desks. I ducked as a stack of papers zoomed overhead. To my right, an enchanted paper cutter manically chopped flyers and dozens of spelled typewriters clacked away.

  I curled my lip—how did anyone think in here? Then again, someone could probably say the same thing about the flashing neon lights that shone through the front window of my apartment and the thumping bass beat from the bar below me. You just got used to it.

  The place buzzed with energy as people bustled around, stacks of scrolls piled high in their arms or one finger pressed to the magical communication devices in their ears, shouting to be heard by the person on the other end.

  Madeline brightened as she caught sight of us, then held up a finger. “No, Harold. I told you, this one’s big. I won’t take less than the front page.” She leaned one hip against a desk and crossed her arms as she listened to the buzzing voice coming from her earpiece. “Well, you better get back to me soon. This piece is breaking fast.”

  She popped the little gumball device out of her ear and tucked it into the pocket of her pencil skirt. “Officers.” She nodded at Peter, then ruffled Daisy’s head. The dog recoiled but not before Madeline got some pets in. She gave me a gentle elbow. “Hey, honey. Always good to see a fellow snoop again. What brings you by?”

  She turned to the desk in front of us and arranged a few typed sheets of paper.

  “We’re investigating Pearl Litt’s death.”

  Madeline sucked in a breath and gave a little shimmy of her shoulders. “Ooh, juicy isn’t it?” She fanned her hands apart. “This exposé I’m writing about Potent Potions is going to be one of the top stories of my career.” She put a fist to her hip. “And you may not have heard, but I did earn a few prestigious awards for my work on the whole Carclaustra Prison scandal.”

  I gave her a flat look. “Yeah, you may have mentioned it.”

  She chuckled.

  Peter pointed at the desk. “Is this the piece you’re writing?”

  She nodded, her long black hair tied back in a bun. “I’m still negotiating the details, but once I get my way, this is going to be front page news—hopefully tomorrow night.”

  Peter cleared his throat. “We understand you spoke with Maria Wu? Can you confirm you were with her the night Pearl Litt was murdered?”

  “Oh, you put that together, did you?” She gave an appreciative nod. “Nice work. Yep, we were together all night. I interviewed her and her lizard husband.” She sighed. “I begged her to let me take photographs and use her real name, but she was already risking a lot breaking the gag order.” Her gaze grew wistful. “Can you imagine, though? A picture of that lizard on the front page? We’d have sold out like that.” She snapped her fingers.

  I frowned. “Why did she risk it?”

  Madeline nodded hello at a passing coworker, then shrugged. “She wanted justice for her husband.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Though if you ask me, the potions actually did her a favor from the way she describes him before.”

  I’d spoken to the guy and had to agree.

  “How’d you hear about her then?” Peter folded his arms. “Did she contact you?”

  “Heh. Nice try.” Madeline pointed a finger at Peter, her dark eyes twinkling. “Can’t reveal my contacts.”

  Peter leveled her a hard look. “You know how this works. I can come back with a court order for your records and contacts—it may even delay publication.” He raised his brows. “Who knows? Someone else may even swoop in and cover the story before you do.”

  Her expression fell. “Fine.” She beckoned us closer and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Peyton Thornsbury, a top consultant at Potent Potions, tipped me off about Maria Wu.”

  Peter and I exchanged looks. We’d interviewed Peyton at the summit the night Pearl died.

  Madeline’s lip curled with delight. “Here I am, already wading into this story about Potent Potions committing fraud and all their scandals, when their founder turns up murdered.” She scoffed, eyes dancing. “This just keeps getting juicier.”

  “Fraud?” Peter narrowed his eyes.

  Madeline rolled a wrist. “Oh, these people are a mess.” She ticked the facts off on her fingers. “First, they don’t pay their manufacturer, who’s now suing them. Then they go with a third-rate manufacturer and their potions are contaminated, leading to things like men turning into lizards. Add to that, pressuring consultants to make bogus claims about what their little vials can do, lying about income opportunities, being a pyramid scheme, and I just discovered that they’ve filed paperwork for bankruptcy.” She wiggled her brows.

  Wow. It was even worse than I’d guessed. “So Peyton tipped you off to all this?”

  Madeline shook her head. “I got an anonymous tip that told me to contact Peyton.”

  Peter and I exchanged looks again. More anonymous tips?

  We thanked Madeline and headed back out into the chilly night. Peter paced in the dark alleyway between warehouses.

  I clicked my tongue. “So maybe Peyton was a little angrier than she let on the other night if she was talking with Madeline and helping take down the company through this exposé she’s writing.”

  Peter nodded, his thinking crease between his brows. “If Peyton knew that talking to Madeline would take down the company, then her excuse is bogus.”

  I lifted a brow and toed an empty bottle. “How so?”

  Peter splayed his hands, his footsteps scuffing off the cobblestones. “Peyton told us she was losing money, but that she wouldn’t have killed Pearl because that would hurt the company and she needed the company to succeed for her to recoup her losses.”

  I smirked. “Good point. That doesn’t stand, if she herself was actively working to undermine Poten
t Potions by speaking with Madeline L’Orange.” I shrugged. “She had motive—she was angry and is losing everything, including her house. She already knew the company was going down—what did she have to lose by killing Pearl?”

  Peter gave me a tight grin. “I’ll call the station and get Peyton’s address.”

  27

  New Evidence

  “Okay, yeah, I spilled the sand about the company!” Peyton threw her hands up and leapt to her feet. She paced behind her couch as she dragged both hands through her red hair.

  Peter and I, sitting on opposite sides of the coffee table, exchanged looks. Well, that had been easy—all we’d had to do was ask if she knew Madeline L’Orange.

  She whirled on us, eyes wild. “But no one can know!” She shook her head, eyes weary. “They’d all turn against me, and I have thousands of merkles’ of merch I still need to sell.” She gripped the back of the couch, face pinched. “I need to stay in the company. If they find out I was talking to that reporter….” She pressed a hand to her stomach and looked like she was going to be sick.

  I frowned. “So even though you’re working to take Potent Potions down, you want to stay working for them?”

  “Yes! Urg!” She paced again, zigzagging between stacked moving boxes and crates. It looked like she was indeed getting ready to move. I looked around at the comfortable home, situated on a middle tier of the island. It was a nice place—she must have been upset about losing it.

  “They’re horrible! This is what they do to you. Once you’re in, it’s so hard to get out!”

  I thought of Will and Heidi, and my stomach clenched. Snakes! I hoped they wouldn’t lose it all when Madeline’s piece came out in The Conch.

  Peter lifted a brow. “But that’s all you did? Speak with Madeline? You didn’t kill Pearl?”