Pet Psychic Mysteries Boxset Books 5-8 (Magic Market Mysteries Book 2) by Erin Johnson (reading diary .TXT) 📗

I mean… obviously. Instead I summoned patience and nodded. It wasn’t her fault I was in a bad mood—my eyes landed on Peter who continued to speak with Ralph in quiet tones. That honor belonged to Officer Judgy over there. I shook my head. If you’d told me the day would come when I’d get along better with Daisy than Peter….

The pig snorted and grunted. What do you want to know? She blinked her shiny eyes, the picture of cute. And what’s in it for me?

I leaned back in surprise and let out a little squeal. What’s in it for you? I frowned. Serving justice, the inner reward of knowing you’ve helped catch a—

She turned around and grunted. No, thanks. The pig trotted back toward the fire and Ralph.

“Wait!” I lowered my voice and repeated it in pig.

She paused and glanced back over her shoulder, her perfect little corkscrew of a tail in the air.

I put a hand on the cool marble floor and leaned into my other leg, adjusting my crouch. Fine. I let out some snorts. I’ll order you room service, how about that? Anything you want.

She turned around, her hard feet clicking on the tile. Rice pudding. And an orange—make it two.

I fought hard not to smile. Fine. You drive a hard bargain, but you got it.

She lifted her little nose in the air and wagged her tail, clearly pleased with herself. I didn’t know if it was possible, but she certainly seemed to have learned something from her owners. I doubted Ralph and Pearl, the heads of a snakin’ pyramid scheme, did much for anyone out of the goodness of their hearts.

I called over Buttercup’s order to Peter, and he pressed the gumball-sized device in his ear and put her order in. I turned back to the pig in front of me and grunted. Alright, your food’s on the way. Now tell me—did you see Ralph or anyone else tamper with that vial Pearl drank earlier this evening?

The pig cocked her head, eyes narrowed in thought. She oinked a few times. No, but I wasn’t paying that much attention to it. It didn’t smell very good.

I leaned closer, intrigued. I’d forgotten that pigs had good senses of smell. I snorted. What did it smell like? Poison or something dangerous?

Buttercup shook. No. It just didn’t smell like food—it smelled like herbs and liquor. I didn’t want any, so I didn’t pay attention to it after that. She blinked a few times. It smelled like Opal, too.

I bit my lip as I thought that over. Opal said she had made the potion, so that made sense. She’d also told us she hadn’t poisoned it, but maybe she’d made a mistake and done that accidentally. I grunted and oinked. Did it smell like the vials of potion normally smell? Or maybe a little off?

Buttercup snuffled the floor and grunted. No. It smelled normal. Just strong. Her pointy ears pricked. When’s my food getting here?

I sighed. Soon, okay. It’s on its way. I bit my thumbnail as I thought up another tack to try. The vacation…. I snorted. Buttercup, you went on the recent trip to the beach, right?

Her ears wiggled. Yep.

I nodded. You notice anything… out of the ordinary?

Her nose twitched. Nope. Her dark eyes narrowed. I didn’t notice much of anything. She let out a grumpy grunt. Ralph kept pushing me out of our room when ladies would come to visit.

I snorted. Of course he did. Was one of these women Avery Ann? Did they ever spend the night?

The pig grunted. Yeah, sometimes Avery Ann. And yes, they’d spend the night and I’d have to sleep on the couch!

Thanks, Buttercup. I patted the floor before hoisting myself to my feet. So it seemed portly Papa Ralph was a two-timer… but was he a murderer?

11

Avery Ann

Peter and I headed back to the lobby, passing a waiter on his way up with a covered tray magically hovering beside his head. I smirked—that was one spoiled pig. Daisy trotted between Peter and me as we jogged down the stairs and reentered the lobby.

Chandeliers kept the space bright, the place buzzing with energy. Though now that was due to the shock and speculation over Mama Pearl’s death, versus anticipation for the summit.

I scanned the room as we descended the grand staircase but didn’t spot Will and Heidi. I hoped, for their sakes, they’d already been questioned and released. There were thousands of witnesses and possible suspects—the police would be getting their statements and collecting evidence until the wee hours.

I did however, spot Avery Ann—the doe-eyed assistant who’d given Ralph a look that lingered just a little too long. Out of habit, I reached over and grabbed Peter’s arm, jerking my chin in her direction.

“Five o’clock.”

He looked down at my hand, and I hastily released my grip on his hard, muscled arm. A warmth spread through my chest—followed immediately by a pang of annoyance with myself. I shouldn’t find him hot anymore—he’d rather stick by his preconceived prejudices than view the real person in front of him and make up his own mind.

My shoulders slumped as I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He spotted Avery Ann and gave me a slight nod. My heart felt heavy in my chest. Except, he was also the man who’d gone out of his way to help me by giving me a job when he could tell I was in need and had stood up for me to his colleagues and boss, and saved my life more times than I could count. He’d brought me little treats and made me laugh and saw something in me even when I was at my lowest.

I followed him and Daisy down the last few steps and wound through the thousands of white-clad ladies toward Avery Ann, who stood to the side near the auditorium doors. Why couldn’t my life just be simple for once? If he was just a straight-up jerk, I wouldn’t have