by Erin Johnson
Aside from the one kitchen window with the plant, all the others were covered in black drapes, as was a full-length mirror and a couple of smaller ones hanging on the walls. The place was cluttered, the sink piled with dirty dishes, and several bouquets of dying flowers were littered on dressers and a dinette set.
"My mother recently passed away." Rebecca dabbed at her eyes with the hanky, and I suddenly realized that she was also wearing funeral blacks. Her gray, wiry hair hung unstyled around her drawn face, her eyes swollen from crying. She wrung the hanky between her trembling hands.
I gasped as I recognized her as the woman who’d pushed past me earlier this evening. “You were at the Night of the Phoenix party tonight.”
She gulped and shook her head, but Daisy growled. Liar.
I nodded at Peter. “I saw her—she rushed out of there looking upset.”
16
Pushed to the Edge
Peter and I exchanged concerned looks, as Daisy sniffed around the water-rotted base of the kitchen cupboards.
“I’m sorry to hear about your mother.” Peter stepped closer to the older woman and removed his policeman's cap. "Are you all right?"
Rebecca hadn't moved from her place beside the door, so Peter gently closed it and turned one of the locks. She stared down at the hanky between her trembling hands and nodded. “Uh-huh.”
Daisy looked up from her sniffing and let out a quiet growl. Lie.
I shot her a flat look. No doy, Daisy. I wasn't sure I'd seen anyone who looked less okay in my life.
Peter, in a soft tone, asked, “Do you know why we’re here, Ms. Rutherford?"
Rebecca's voice shook. "No…"
Daisy trotted to Peter’s side and growled. Lie.
Peter almost looked regretful as he glanced down at his dog and then addressed the mourning woman. "My dog, Daisy, smells lies. I'd like you to keep that in mind as you answer our questions."
Rebecca slumped against the wall and let out a whimper.
Oh, she was definitely guilty.
Peter licked his lips and began gently. "We’re here because Malorie Rutherford, your stepmother, was killed earlier this evening at a fundraising event."
Rebecca did her best to look surprised, but her expression just came out pained. "Oh?"
Daisy looked almost bored as she huffed. She's lying.
I crossed my arms. “Again—I saw you. You bumped into me.”
Rebecca whimpered. She startled when Peter began speaking again.
"A couple of witnesses say they saw you speaking with Malorie.”
“Oh, uh—” She scratched at the back of her neck and looked away. “They must’ve been mistaken.”
Daisy, ears flat, growled. Untrue.
I crossed my arms and huffed. “You are aware that we know you’re lying, right?”
Muffled shouts sounded from the other side of the wall that Rebecca leaned against. The woman cowered.
Peter, frowning, kept his tone gentle but firm. “Did you kill Malorie Rutherford?”
She looked up so quickly and her tone grew suddenly so venomous that I startled and instinctively took a step behind Peter.
“It’s Malorie Smithe, Smithe!” Spit flew from her mouth, illuminated by the few stubby candlesticks littered about the apartment. “How dare she keep my father’s name!” She bared her teeth and clenched her bony hands. “Yes, okay? Yes, I killed her!”
Peter and I looked at Daisy, who stood with her chest puffed up between Peter and the suddenly irate woman. The dog barked. True!
I shrugged at Peter. “Well, this has been an easy one.” I dusted off my hands. “Case closed.”
Rebecca lunged forward, and Peter spread his arms wide to shield me. The hackles rose on Daisy’s neck, but the older woman seemed not to notice the danger she was in from the huge German shepherd. She bared her yellowing teeth and snarled.
“That witch took everything from me! She killed my father—you’ve heard that, right? He disappeared at the last phoenix party, not long after he left my mother for that bottom-sucking sea slug!” She ground her teeth. “She got him to put the ring around her finger and then she whacked him! Probably fed him to the lava bear!”
“Hm. Lava bear?” I made a mental note to check that out.
Peter slowly withdrew his wand from his pocket. “So you killed Malorie for revenge? Why now?”
Rebecca sneered. “I got my revenge, yes, but…” She dropped her gaze and frowned, suddenly troubled. “I didn’t actually mean to kill her.” She looked up and spread her palms imploringly. “I’d been trying to get her to see me for weeks. My mother passed away recently, but she was sick for a very long time. When Malorie inherited my father’s estate, very little money came to me or my mother. The medical bills added up. I got desperate.”
Peter nodded, and I marveled at the compassion he could show a woman who was clearly so far gone that she’d just killed someone.
Rebecca talked with her hands, the hankie fluttering between them. “She wouldn’t even show me the courtesy of speaking with me! So I snuck into her party. She couldn’t just ignore me there—not in front of all her high-class friends. She asked me to step in the back, into the sanctuary for more privacy.”
Her pale eyes grew hard. “I demanded more of my dad’s money.” She clenched her jaw, eyes far away. “We walked and talked. She couldn’t even give me her full attention. Said she wanted to make sure all was in order in the phoenix’s cage. Malorie, always so smug, refused to give me a single coin and I—I got angry and shoved her—” Rebecca’s eyes opened wide, as though the scene were playing out in front of her again. “She fell backward into the phoenix’s cage. And she lay there—unmoving.”
I raised my brows. Well, that explained Malorie’s head wound.
She pressed a trembling hand over her mouth. “I killed her. After that I panicked. I figured the phoenix would burn away the evidence and maybe more of my father’s estate would revert to me. I ran.”
A heavy silence followed until Daisy, pointy ears pricked and hackles still raised, whined. All true.
“Welp.” I squeezed Peter’s shoulder and lowered my voice so that only he could hear. “The ramen carts are still going to be open after you process her. Want to grab some dinner and call it an early night, Officer Flint?”
He turned and gave me a quick grin before clearing his throat and turning back to Rebecca, who stood with her chest heaving and a crazed gleam in her eye.
Yep. Super guilty.
Peter’s scroll and quill magically appeared beside him, and he perused the scribbled writing for a moment before looking up at the madwoman. “Just a couple more things, ma’am?”
Her eyes shifted to his face, and Daisy, who still stood between them, tensed.
“After you pushed Malorie off the railing, what did you do with the phoenix, and why did you kill that other woman?”
I frowned. Oh, yeah. In all the excitement of solving Malorie’s murder, I’d nearly forgotten about our psychedelic Jane Doe.
Rebecca wrung her kerchief. “Phoenix? Other woman?” She shook herself. “I’m sorry—the firebird was in the cage when Malorie fell.” She shuddered. “Her body nearly crushed it. It had to scamper out of the way. Are you telling me it’s not there now?”
I sucked on my lips. “Afraid so. It’s how we figured out Malorie was dead.” I lifted a palm. “The whole unburned body thing?”
Rebecca frowned and shook her head. “And what other woman? I haven’t killed anyone else!”
Daisy, still on alert, let out a curt whine. All true.
Peter and I exchanged confused looks.
He cleared his throat. “Walk us through everything again. You say you pushed Malorie and she fell into the phoenix’s cage?”
“Yes—there’s a second-floor viewing platform. She toppled over the railing.”
Peter nodded. “That would explain the head wound—she probably sustained it when she landed. Did you then go get the blow gun from the office a
nd shoot her with a poisoned dart, just to ensure she was truly gone?”
I nodded—good thinking. She must’ve used the blow gun since it was the only weapon nearby that would allow her to hit Malorie from a distance. She couldn’t risk getting close to the phoenix, after all, not when it was about to burst into flames. I frowned—then again, why hadn’t she just used her wand? And come to think of it, she’d said Malorie fell and landed on her back—but the dart was sticking out of the back of her neck.
Rebecca spluttered. “W-wait—what?! I didn’t do any of that. I have no idea what you’re talking about! Someone shot Malorie’s body with a poisoned dart?” She gaped at us.
Daisy glanced back and whined. All true.
I groaned and thunked my head against Peter’s arm. I knew this had been too good to be true.
Peter tensed. “So we have a second killer?”
I raised a finger. “And let’s not forget a second body, plus a missing bird.”
Peter looked down, lips quirked to the side. “No ramen tonight, I’m afraid.”
“Boo.” I understood but was still disappointed.
Peter aimed his wand at Rebecca, and a pair of glowing magical handcuffs appeared in his other hand. “Rebecca Rutherford, we’re taking you into custody—you’re under arrest for the murder of Malorie Rutherford.” He faltered a moment. “And we’ll figure out the other details later.”
17
The Boys
The station at the top of Bijou Mer bustled and buzzed with energy. Perps sat with their heads in their magically handcuffed hands, cops shouted at each other from across the jumble of metal desks, and stacks of papers, arrest warrants, and case files whizzed through the air overhead.
Edna, the precinct’s manager, waved wildly, half raised from her stool behind the tall front counter. She sank back into her seat, looking relieved, when I pointed her out to Peter. We headed her way, Rebecca Rutherford sandwiched between Peter and Daisy.
“Oh, doll face, I’ve been tryin’ to reach ya!” She let out an exasperated sigh and flashed her eyes at Peter from behind her purple cat glasses.
“Oh. Snakes.” Peter dug around in his pocket and withdrew the gumball-sized communication device. “Sorry, Edna.”
She winked. “No worries, kid. Hey, girlie and toots.”
I grinned and said hello as she reached over the edge of the desk. Daisy pressed her side up against the wood paneling, and Edna scratched the pup’s head. Daisy closed her eyes and groaned with bliss.
Oh—that’s the spot.
Edna’s bright pink lips pressed tightly together as her gaze landed on Rebecca. “And who’s this?” She looked up at Peter. “We booking her?”
He nodded. “Rebecca Rutherford, for the murder of Malorie Rutherford.”
Edna’s thin brows twitched up. “You may want to pass her off to Russo for all the processing.”
Rebecca, whose shoulders sagged, whimpered. “Processing?” She swayed on her feet, the color gone from her already pale face. No doubt the night and all the murdering she’d done had really taken it out of her.
Edna pointed a long, candy-pink nail to our left. “That one better sit down. Leave her to me. Bon wants to see you about something.” She rolled her eyes. “Insists it’s urgent, but you know him. Everything’s urgent.”
Peter sighed. “Thanks, Edna.”
She winked again. “No sweat.” She winked at me. “He being a good boy to you?”
I nodded. “Definitely.”
She let out a deep, raspy laugh. “Hopefully not too good.” She winked again, then called out for Russo.
The rookie cop jolted up from behind one of the nearby desks and dashed over, taking Rebecca off our hands. Peter, Daisy, and I moved a little way off to the side.
He grinned down at me. “I have to finish up a few things here.” He dug around in the pocket of his blue trousers. “I’ve been meaning to give this to you.” He pulled out a small gold key and held it out to me.
My smirk dropped, and I blinked down at it. “Is this…?” I gaped up at him.
He nodded, a twinkle in his eye. “I figured it was about time you had a key to my place.”
My whole chest and face grew hot, and I couldn’t help but smile. “This is a big step, you know?” I plucked up the key and held it up. “Once you let me in, I’m hard to get rid of.”
“It’s yours… like my heart.” Grinning, he leaned forward and kissed my cheek.
I clicked my tongue—that was too much. But it was also pretty cute.
“I’ll finish up with Bon as quick as I can, then meet you back at my apartment?”
I nodded, grinning.
He started across the busy station floor with Daisy trotting behind him, growling to herself. They’re being gross again.
I watched him go, then looked down at the key in my hand, my whole body flushed with happiness. I stuffed the key in my pocket and turned around, heading back out into the chilly night. I strode out of the ancient medieval keep that was Bijou Mer’s jail/police headquarters, nodding at the guard through the window in the stone wall and ducking my head as I passed under the raised portcullis.
I shoved my hands in my pockets, chilled and eager to get home and warm. I grinned to myself—I’d go by my place to pick up some spare clothes, then head back up to Peter’s. I looked forward to snuggling up with him, nice and warm under the blankets.
Up ahead, the path dipped, fog gathering in the hollow that passed through the bramble patch. I slowed my pace as a few shadowy figures came into view, lurking near the entrance to the tunnel formed by the thorny vines.
My chest grew tight as I tried to peer through the darkness and mist. I glanced back—I could go get Peter, but I didn’t want to bother him, and I was sure no one would be dumb enough to mess with me right outside the police station… probably.
I squared my shoulders, lifted my chin, and walked steadfastly forward. Nobody had to know I’d had my powers stripped by that curse a few years ago—for all these hooligans knew, I was a powerful witch who could take them all. The mist swirled as I neared, the shadowy figures sliding closer.
“Hey. Wait up.”
I recognized the voice and rolled my eyes. Of course. “Neo. How nice of you to stalk me.”
The ringleader of this particular little branch of Ludolf Caterwaul’s army stepped forward out of the fog and glared at me, his dark eyes narrowed to tiny slits, his hair slicked back and shiny.
“Hey, boys.” I nodded my greetings to his underlings.
Sacha, an enormous, bald brute of a man bowed his head. “Hi, Jolene.” Despite being the size of a small house, with his thick brow and deep voice, Sacha was always polite and gentle with me.
I grinned at him while Viktor, twitchy and wiry and covered from head to toe in tattoos, giggled nervously.
Neo blocked my way, arms crossed, stance wide. Though he now sported trendy haircuts and stylish black clothes, to me, he’d always be that small kid I’d grown up with in the orphanage.
I raised a brow at him, unintimidated. “Yes?”
Neo still glared at me. “What have the police found in the case tonight?”
I thumbed over my shoulder. “Why don’t you go ask them yourself?” I moved to pass him, but he sidestepped, blocking my way.
“This is coming from Ludolf.”
I flashed my eyes at him. “Do you enjoy being his little lap dog?”
Color flushed Neo’s pale cheeks as Viktor giggled and wrung his hands. Sacha clamped a massive hand down on his shoulder, and the weasel shifter grew slightly more still.
Neo took a step toward me, his nostrils flared, jaw set. “You do remember Ludolf’s only letting you out on so much leash because he wants you collecting police intel for him, yeah? He could just keep you down in the sewers.”
Chilly fear ran down my spine as a light rain began to fall. It was true. Ludolf could just keep me down in the sewers, performing endless experiments on me, testing potions until he found what h
e was looking for.
Part of me just assumed he was toying with me, scaring me till he decided to end me. But another part of me suspected there was more behind it—something about the way the curse had stolen my powers and ability to shift seemed to excite him.
I shuddered and blinked a raindrop out of my eyes as hot anger flushed through me. I hated that Neo was right—that Ludolf could do whatever he wanted. It was why Peter, Will, Heidi, and I had vowed to look into Ludolf and find some way to put him behind bars. In the meantime, though, I was at his mercy, and I hated feeling powerless.
I balled my hands into fists, my nails digging into my palms. “You can report back to your master that the cops have made an arrest… but are still looking into the case.” I plastered on a smile that felt more like a grimace. “Happy?”
I moved to pass him and again he blocked my way. I flashed my eyes at him in warning. I was not in the mood to be messed with, and while he knew that I didn’t have any magic, I’d bet I could still pummel him.
He looked smug. “You’ll keep us in the loop.”
I rolled my eyes. “Like I have a choice.” A thought cut through my annoyance. “Wait—why does Ludolf care about this?” I cocked my head, watching Neo. “And why was he even at the fundraiser tonight?”
Viktor let out a manic giggle, and Sacha muttered a few quiet words to him. Neo shot the wiry man a harsh look, then raised a brow at me. “That’s not your business—Ludolf has his reasons.”
I shrugged, trying to get more information out of him. “I can’t protect him if he’s behind this.” Had Ludolf killed those two women for some reason? Could this be the case that we finally nailed him on?
Neo shrugged back, his lips pressed tight together.
I stepped closer, and he held his ground, though he leaned his head away from me. I grinned, suddenly feeling more like the cat and less like the mouse. “Right… is Ludolf interested in the phoenix?”
