by Erin Johnson
An idea suddenly occurred to me, and I snapped my gaze back to Peter, grinning. “You’re right!”
He straightened and smiled. “I am?”
“Yep.” I pointed toward the cabin. “There was a giant fish tank in there. Maybe one of them saw something.”
Chief Taylor stepped closer, right behind Peter. I gasped in a breath. “I’m going to go check it out—now! Catch you later!”
“Oh. Okay.”
Peter’s face fell, but I didn’t have time to mentally berate myself just then. I gathered up my skirt in both hands and spun away, then dashed through the crowd, back into the ballroom.
11
FISH TANK
I cast one last glance over my shoulder. I’d lost Peter and Chief Taylor in the dense crowd that gathered on deck. Men and women stood in small groups, while magical quills jotted down notes beside officers’ heads as they questioned them. A thick fog hung over the surface of the sea and obscured the full moon. The heavy canvas sails snapped with more force than I’d expected given the fairly gentle sea breeze. I shivered—spooky. I could definitely picture a pirate captain ghost flitting about.
I ducked inside the cabin and let the heavy wooden door swing shut behind me. The chatter and noise from the deck immediately dampened, the large ballroom weirdly quiet and empty now. I touched my feathered mask again, just to double check it was still in place, and hurried forward, weaving through round tables and chairs to the far side of the room.
The enormous fish tank glowed an electric blue and took up nearly the entire wall. Both sides were transparent, so I could see the wood paneled wall behind it. I grabbed handfuls of my long skirt and shuffled past the waving anemones and darting fish until I reached the end of it, then rounded the corner and hid behind.
I crouched low, barely balancing on the toes of my high heels, my heaving chest rising almost to my chin with each gasp. Then, I let myself fall back onto my seat, my back against the wall, and pulled the tight corset top away from my ribs as best I could.
I pressed my eyes shut and worked to slow my breathing, trying my best to lengthen out my exhales. It was a technique I’d had to use a few times in my former career as a lawyer. I wasn’t easily rattled or nervous, but there’d been a few times my heart had raced like this--my first time speaking in a courtroom, and the first time I’d gone to the prison to interrogate a criminal. And even before all that, I’d experienced it the time I’d gone in for my interview, with Emerson Watts and the other partners sitting across that long table from me.
I’d nearly passed out from nerves, trying to answer their questions and at the same time murmuring calming spells to keep from shifting out of anxiety. It happened more than you’d think. Will had lost his career by spontaneously shifting into his bear form out of anger—heightened emotions could bring it out of you.
I huffed as I thought of Will. He’d have a lot to say about tonight. A lot of I told you so’s and definitely some eye rolls.
I looked around. I was hidden for now, but it was only a matter of time before someone found me. Maybe I could just ask these fish some questions, report back to Peter, and slide out of here before anyone noticed I was the only one still wearing my mask. I tucked my legs under me and hauled myself to my feet.
Nothing and no one stirred in the empty ballroom, so I got to the business of interrogating fish. Oh, how super on track was my life?
I tapped the glass and a nearby eel darted back into its hole. A big purple fish with glowing blue spots swam by and cast me a side-eye. Bubbles poured from its mouth. Rude.
I rolled my eyes and tried again. I crouched a little lower, my hands on my thighs, and cleared my throat. Oh fish language. So glamorous.
“Glob bobble glob bob.” Hey, did any of you guys see anything fishy earlier? I rolled my eyes at my accidental pun.
A red lobster, its antenna waving, lifted a spindly leg and swiveled its eyes toward me. It clicked its pinchers, one quite larger than the other. Suspicious? You mean more so than my usual entertainment of watching my fellow lobsters be cracked open by you people?!
Yowzer! This just got awkward. I looked around the enormous tank for someone else to talk to, but the fish seemed to be avoiding my little corner. I turned back to the lobster and shrugged, then formed little pinchers with my hands and tapped my fingers and thumbs together. Clickity click click. Sorry, guy. Circle of life and all, but yeah… that must be rough to have to watch.
Bubbles poured from its mouth and it curled its tail under. Ha! You kidding me? Those bozos deserved it, I had beef with every one of ’em. He reached out a long arm and snapped at a passing lobster, who recoiled and scuttled away. And you’re next, Steve! Serves you right for taking over that rock. That was my rock!
I nodded. Great. I’d struck up conversation with the most unlikeable invertebrate in the tank.
I made little pincher hands again. Listen, uh…?
The little red guy snapped a pincher. Ted.
Ted. There was a murder earlier, of a wizard—I hurried to specify this wasn’t a crustacean homicide—and I’m wondering if you saw anything suspicious?
I figured there was about a 1 percent chance of learning anything useful, but with Daisy the canine lie detector always hanging about, I’d at least be able to truthfully report back to Peter that I’d done some questioning.
A crab scuttled over, its pinchers lifted skyward, and clicked them a few times. Apologies. Didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but it’s a small tank and I couldn’t help but overhear. Your conversation has me hooked. It broke out into what I assumed was laughter, its eyes squeezed shut and claws clacking together.
The lobster, Ted, and I exchanged flat looks.
He shook his head, mouth tendrils floating in the current, and snapped one claw, hard. Crabs.
The crab clicked it claws. We get a bad rap, you know, but most of us are quite cheery.
I lifted my brows at Ted. Clearly.
Anyway, just scuttled over to let you know that I did see two men in uniforms earlier. They came back here—the crab pointed to a spot to my left—and yelled at each other. I remember because their raised voices sent all the guppies scrambling.
I frowned. This actually might be a legitimate clue. I made grabby hands, tapping my fingers together, and jabbing my hands skyward. If anyone could see me now, they’d probably just think I was a terrible dancer. Do you remember what they looked like? Could you identify them?
The crab rocked side to side, apparently thinking. Hmm. It clacked its claw a few times. They both had on uniforms. One of them put an arm around the other one and dragged him away outside. It jabbed a claw to my left.
I gathered up my dress and moved further toward the center of the fish tank until a door came into view. Huh. I hurried forward and turned the brass knob. Cool sea air blew tendrils of hair out of my face. I leaned halfway out and looked left and right. A narrow corridor ran around the back of the ship here, the railing leading to a steep drop off to the rudder and sea below.
I ducked back inside and closed the door, then spun around to face the tank. There was another way out of the ballroom, one that probably few knew about, hidden as it was behind the fish tank. And two men in uniform? One of them easily could have been Davies, but who was the other? And had another cop pushed him overboard?
I leaned against the wall and faced the tank, though I wasn’t really seeing it. I tapped a finger against my bottom lip as I thought it over. Why would another cop have taken out Davies? He’d won Officer of the Year, something his fellow officers voted on—I had to assume he was popular. I frowned. Except with Peter… who’d seemed jealous.
Come again?
I blinked.
The crab and lobster waited expectantly. I glanced down at my tapping finger. Oh—oops. That was just absentminded fidgeting. I made a claw with my hand and clacked it together. One last thing though… I arched a brow. Have either of you ever seen this ghost pirate I keep hearing about?
Bubbles flew f
rom the lobster’s mouth. Ghost? This ship is about as haunted as my rock. The one you stole, STEVE!
The crab’s eyes shifted to the lobster. Geez. He’s not even over here.
I made little claw hands. So to clarify, that’s a no on seeing ghosts?
The ship’s ghostless, I tell ya!
I gave the lobster and crab a little salute. Thanks! I hope no one orders crab or lobster for a long time.
I jerked as the ballroom doors swung open with a bang. Chief Taylor, flanked by officers, strode in, his hard eyes scanning the room. Snakes! I crouched lower, hiding.
The water blurred his features as he barked out orders. “Search the room!”
Oh crab. I edged to my left toward the semihidden door. At least there was a back way out. A few more officers strode in, escorting groups of witnesses, and despite the water blurring my view, I recognized Peter among them. He headed straight for me and the fish tank, with Daisy at his side.
He scanned the room and called out, “Jolene?”
Daisy lifted her nose and sniffed.
My heartbeat picked up. I doubted he’d seen me—he was probably just headed this way because I’d told him I was going to question the fish. My eyes slid to Chief Taylor. I’d have been happy to chat with Peter, of course, but I was sure the chief would insist on me removing my mask if he saw me. No, thank you.
I stretched my left arm out, patting around for the doorknob as I kept my eyes on Peter.
“Jolene?”
The crab turned around and raised its pinchers. Oh! That’s him.
I froze with the door cracked open, midway through my escape. I tapped my fingers. What?
The crab turned back around to face me, then pointed at Peter—quickly approaching—with its claw. That’s the man I saw drag the other man in the uniform away.
I shook my head. No way. I mean, I guess the thought had occurred to me for a moment, but the idea of Peter harming someone else was absurd. I bet he even had a good rap among flies.
The crab clicked its claws again, then jabbed one to the left. Oops! No, I mean it was that guy… or, hm, it could’ve been him… or him.
I blew out the breath I’d been holding and rolled my eyes. Great. So it could’ve been any police officer then?
The crab clicked its claws. It’s a little blurry from in here!
Eep! Peter and Daisy had nearly reached the tank—they were just a couple of round tables away. Seeing my chance, I yanked the door open and slipped out, closing it as quietly as I could behind me.
12
ESCAPE
After a quick peek over the railing, I realized the sea was way too far below for my liking. I kept my back pressed to the wooden side of the ship and edged my way along the narrow passageway behind the cabin.
I glanced toward the door, pleased that I’d managed to escape, then rounded the corner. My stomach sank. I’d successfully ditched Peter. Not my proudest moment.
Most of the time I didn’t mind having to hide who I was—it was just how you survived as a shifter, and I’d gotten used to it. But it was times like these I wished I was just a normal witch. One who could show my true self to the guy I liked.
My heels clicked along the wooden planks as I came around the side of the cabin toward the deck. Maybe I could just leave and catch up with Peter later. My feet were starting to hurt as the spell on them wore off, and I didn’t know how much longer I’d be able to keep this mask on.
I paused at the edge of the crowd gathered on deck. To my left, a couple of officers took statements from an older couple, their magical quills scribbling out notes on scrolls that hovered by their shoulders. The ship bobbed gently and bats winged their way overhead, silhouetted against the foggy moon.
I took a deep breath and blew it out. I lifted my chin and started across the deck. If I looked purposeful and like I knew what I was doing, maybe no one would stop me. It’d had worked most of the time growing up in the Darkmoon District.
I headed toward the gangway that led back down to the dock. I made it about halfway across and had passed through the thickest part of the crowd.
“You!”
Goose bumps prickled my arms as I recognized Bon’s voice. Snakes! I kept walking, head high, as though I hadn’t heard.
He snapped his fingers a few times. “Miss! In the black dress. Hey!”
A few people looked up and behind me at him. I winced but kept going, sliding behind a man in a tuxedo, then picking up my pace.
A few cries sounded behind me, and a moment later, the short inspector shoved a couple of young guys out of his way and bounded in front of me, forcing me to stop.
He scowled. “I’ve been yelling for you to stop.”
I blinked innocently at him. “Sorry. I didn’t hear.” Thank the seas Daisy wasn’t around to call me out on my lie.
Bon narrowed his eyes. “Likely story.” He jerked his chin at my face. “Take your mask off.”
I glanced around. A few men and women looked my way but lowered their eyes when I turned to them. I cleared my throat and leaned closer to Bon. “Hey. It’s me. Jolene. It’s fine.”
He scoffed. “I don’t know who you think you are, but everyone’s taken their masks off and you need to as well. In case you didn’t hear, there’s been an officer killed. The Officer of the Year, in fact.”
I rolled my eyes, and after a quick glance around again to make sure Zale or Eve or anyone else I knew wasn’t nearby, I reached up and briefly lifted my mask so he could see my face. I raised my brows. “Jolene Hartgrave?” I waited for a flash of recognition, but Bon just continued to glare at me. I huffed. “I work with Peter—I mean Officer Flint?”
His nostrils flared.
“Oh, for sand’s sake!” I stuck a hip out. “I’m the pet psychic. We’ve met several times!”
“Ohhhh. That Jolene Hartgrave.”
I sighed. Finally. I dropped my arms to my sides.
“Not ringing a bell.” Faster than I would’ve thought him capable of, Bon reached up and snatched the mask off my face.
I gasped and lunged for it, but he turned, holding it behind him. He held up his other hand, much too close to my face. “I’m a busy man and I don’t like being toyed with, miss. We’ve got a serious job to do here tonight and no one’s getting away with hiding anything—including their faces.”
I clenched my hands into fists and gritted my teeth, seething at the impossibly irritating man. I could probably pummel him—but not with so many cop eyes turned my way. I struggled to slow my heaving breaths and tried for polite smiles at the attention we’d attracted. Don’t mind me, officers, I’m just going to have a few words with your inspector… and my fists will be doing all the talking.
Bon and I scowled at each other. Even for him, he was in a foul mood. I remembered the way Chief Taylor had treated him earlier and couldn’t entirely hold back a grin—I guess Bon had reason at least to go around abusing what little power he had.
He shook a stubby finger at me. “Now go give your statement.”
I held my hand out. “That’s my property. Can I at least have my mask back?”
He grinned. “No.” Then he strode away.
I was left standing there with my jaw dropped. What an insufferable little twit! I huffed, gathered up my skirt, and stomped toward the gangway. Now that I’d been unmasked, I had to get out of here. Will’s parting words sounded in my mind—don’t take off your mask. Was he just a harbinger of doom or what?
I passed the skirt to one hand and held the other hand to the side of my face, trying to hide it from the guests and officers. I kept my eyes down on my feet and hustled forward, joining a short queue of guests along the railing. I shifted on my dully aching feet and longed to glance over my shoulder, though I didn’t dare, in case I locked eyes with someone I’d rather not.
I shuffled forward, inch by inch, nibbling the inside of my cheek. I leaned to one side, trying to see what the holdup at the front of the line was. Two couples peeled off to the left
and moved down the gangway to sweet, sweet freedom on solid land below. The line shuffled forward, and the woman directly in front of me approached a pair of officers stationed on either side of the gangway.
The taller one reached out his open palm. “Papers.”
I held still. Papers?
The woman dug around in her clutch and produced a scroll, which she handed to the taller cop. He unrolled it, the lady cop leaning over to read it, then looked up at the woman and waved her on. “Have a nice evening.” His tone was all business.
Whatever these papers were, I didn’t have them. I was sure Peter could hook me up, though. I edged to the right, about ready to duck out of line and go find him, when a familiar voice sounded a few feet behind me.
“Brazen, wasn’t it?”
The hairs on the back of my neck rose. Zale—my ex.
“To kill an officer during a police ball.”
“It would be if we knew he’d been killed. Probably just fell overboard.”
Eve’s voice.
“Hmm. I’m not so sure.”
Zale again.
My heart thundered in my ears.
“Hey!”
I looked up, blinking.
The lady cop waved me forward. “I said, next.”
13
WALK THE PLANK
I couldn’t turn back, not with Zale and Eve right behind me and my mask off. I glanced to my left down the long, long gangplank. I could make a run for it, but in heels and this dress, I doubted I’d make it far. In fact, I’d probably just plummet into the sea, to my death. I gulped. That might actually be the preferable fate.
The lady cop held her palm out. “Papers.”
Time for my famous powers of persuasion to kick in.
“About that…” I kept my voice low so that Zale and Eve wouldn’t recognize it.
The cops raised their brows, faces stony. I doubted this was how they’d envisioned spending their evening.
