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

Peter nodded. “Let’s get going then.” I handed him the lipstick, and we sped over to the lab. They tested it while we waited, and minutes later reported back—the lipstick did indeed contain the same poison that was used to kill Polly Pierre.

We headed back out into the chaos of the station, papers flying overhead and cops escorting perps and victims, and waited for our chance to chat with Edna. After speaking with a few other waiting cops and dispatching some calls on her communication device, the harried woman turned to us. She adjusted her cat glasses. “Oh honey, I’m swamped, but what can I do for you?”

Peter asked her to have our suspects meet us at the Pierre Bakery on Main Street as soon as possible. Edna promised she would, then held up a finger with a sparkly fingernail. “Don’t leave just yet, sugar—Bon wants to see you in his office.”

I heaved a sigh and glanced toward the exit. So close. I was not a fan of Peter’s self-important boss with a Napoleon complex, and he made no secret of the fact that he wasn’t a fan of mine. But I supposed duty called.

Peter, Daisy, and I turned around and headed for Bon’s office. A young cop sat at the desk outside the door, the transom window above it propped open. The cop found our names on a list and waved us inside.

Inspector Bon sat behind his metal desk, feet propped up on it beside a stack of paperwork and manila folders. To our left, a fire crackled in the fireplace, warming the cold, drafty stone room. I raised my brows in surprise to spot Chief McCray sitting in one of the two wooden chairs in front of Bon’s desk. She sipped from a steaming mug of coffee, then turned around and waved at us.

She wore her usual enormous wire glasses, her short blond hair flipped outward. “C’mon in. Bon’s just finishing up a call with his beloved.” She winked, a twinkle in her eye.

Peter and I exchanged uneasy looks and stepped forward.

33

McCray

Something about that woman always threw me off. It was as though she knew all my secrets, but I couldn’t puzzle out hers. She seemed jovial and simple—but out of nowhere could make startlingly astute observations that showed she’d been paying attention the whole time.

Bon pinched the bridge of his nose, one finger pressed to the communication device in his ear. He looked pained as he swung his feet off the desk, his gaze far away.

“No, hon—just—urg.” He groaned and shoved to his feet, pacing behind the desk. “It’ll be okay, you just need to put it down.” He winced, the shrill voice on the other end so loud that I could hear it across the room—though I couldn’t make out the woman’s words.

Bon continued to pace, shaking his head. “No, hon, I’m working. I can’t help you right now; you’re going to have to take care of this yourself.” He nodded. “Love you, too.”

He yanked the communication device out of his ear and tossed it onto the desk before throwing himself back in his chair. He leaned his elbows on the desk and buried his balding head in his hands.

“Urg, it’s Frennie. She’s always practicing her necromancy on dead cats. Which would be fine, except she’s still learning, you know, and they don’t come back quite right and then she has to put them down all over again and it’s just traumatic and—” He glanced up, seeming to suddenly realize that he and Chief McCray weren’t alone. He scowled at us.

I smiled broadly and waved.

Bon groaned. “What do you want?”

Peter clasped his hands behind his back. “Uh, you called us in, sir?”

McCray shook her head, her blond hair bobbing. “Oops—that was me, actually.” She waved us over. “Come in—don’t just stand there.” She grinned at us, but my stomach tightened with unease. Ludolf’s threats, that he owned the police, echoed in my head.

Peter and I moved closer, and McCray patted her thighs at Daisy. “C’mere, wittle puppy, and let Auntie Kit pet your wittle head.”

Daisy slunk away from her, ears flat, and growled. I don’t like that woman.

The hairs on the back of my neck rose. Daisy could magically smell lies—if she didn’t like the chief, was that because she couldn’t be trusted? Then again, Daisy might just be holding a grudge because McCray put her on a leash a couple months ago. Plus, Daisy took a while to warm up to me, so she clearly wasn’t always the best judge of character.

McCray winked at Daisy. “Playing hard to get, I can respect that.” She pointed at Peter. “Tell me what treats she likes—I’ll bring some in next time I come by the precinct.”

Peter nodded. “She’s a big fan of croissants.”

The coffee shop guy always saved her one. I held up a finger. “And strong black coffee and chocolate.”

McCray frowned at Bon, who was still scowling, then back at me. “Are dogs allowed to have that?”

I shook my head. “No—those are just the treats I like.”

She winked at me. “Well played.”

Peter cleared his throat. “Speaking of, what brings you by the precinct this evening, and how can we help you?” His voice held a hint of tension. I glanced up at my handsome boyfriend. Was he feeling the same misgivings toward the chief that I was? I supposed I should be wary of Bon too, but frankly he seemed so inept and terrible at playing politics or making anyone like him, that I found it unlikely he was in anyone’s pocket.

McCray laced her fingers together and rested her hands on her knee. She cleared her throat. “Jolene… I know what you are.”

Icy fear washed over me, but I held very still. “Oh?” I let out an awkward chuckle. “A pet psychic?”

She pressed her lips tight together. “No—a shifter.”

Peter’s breath caught, and he edged slightly in front of me, placing himself between