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

I let out a choked laugh, then nudged her with my knee. Good one.

She kept her eyes glued to Carolyn, but the tip of her tail wagged just the tiniest amount, brushing over the toe of my boot.

Carolyn dragged a wooden stool over from the kitchen breakfast bar and sat on it in front of us. “So what’s this about?”

She gathered her long cardigan around herself, and I studied her features. She did look vaguely familiar—I’d probably seen her at the protest the other night, but I couldn’t say for sure.

“We wanted to ask you about Pearl Litt’s recent death.”

Her lip curled in a cruel smile. “That witch got what she deserved.”

I dusted my hands off and glanced at Peter. “Well, then. Case closed?”

His lip twitched, but that tiny spark of a smile died as quickly as it’d started. I sank back on the couch and drummed my fingers on my thigh—it was a weird day when I shared more laughs with Daisy than Peter.

He leaned forward and laced his hands together between his knees. “Why do you say that?” He jerked his chin toward the picket signs under the window. “We understand you used to be a consultant for Potent Potions—why were you leading a protest outside the summit the night Pearl Litt died?”

The gleam in Carolyn’s eyes faded. “Wait a moment—you’re not thinking I killed her?”

I raised my brows. “The angry protestor who’s happy she’s dead? No. Why would we think that?”

Carolyn huffed and adjusted her long cardigan. “I didn’t kill Pearl Litt—despite fantasizing about it.”

Peter and I glanced at Daisy, who whined. Truth.

Guess we could cross Carolyn’s name off the suspect list.

She glared at us. “Do you have any idea what those people are like?” She scrunched up her face and her voice rose, mocking. “Mama Pearl and Papa Ralph just want to welcome you to the Potent Potions family to help empower you.” She scoffed. “Those two are parasites—they prey on the weak. And stupid me.” She smacked the heel of her hand to her forehead. “I fell for it. I was desperate, and I fell for their promises of wealth and living the high life.” She shook her head. “I didn’t even need the fancy clothes or vacations—I just wanted to be able to pay my bills, so like an idiot, I signed up to be an independent consultant.”

Peter nodded. “When was this?”

Carolyn took a deep breath and her eyes slid to the side. “Uh… maybe seven months ago. They told me I could make more money in a month than I made in a year at my day job, that the buy-in for the starter kit would be paid back and then some in mere days.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course, they don’t tell you that the only way for that to happen is to sucker more fools into the scheme under you. I believed their lies about the miracle potions and how they sold themselves—yeah, about as well as a ship with a hole floats.”

I gestured to the piles of golden chests against the wall. “Is that why you have so much inventory?”

Carolyn’s eyes darted to the pile, but she quickly looked away. “I can barely stand to look at them—it makes me sick to think how much money I’ve lost. I believed my upline—when I wasn’t making money, they told me I just needed to try harder. No matter if I was driving away all my friends and family. They told me I needed more inventory, to be able to offer more variety of potions, so I bought all those.”

Carolyn heaved a weary sigh. “And when half the vials were showing up already uncorked, or half empty or mislabeled, and customers complained and returned them, guess who had to eat the cost, huh?” She raised her thin brows and patted her chest. “Me. Turns out Potent Potions doesn’t allow returns to headquarters.”

I felt the burn of anger flare in my chest. The lawyer in me woke up and wanted to get justice for her. I pointed at her. “You know that’s not legal?”

She shrugged. “It doesn’t surprise me. But who’s going to do anything about it?”

I frowned. “Is that why you organized the protests?”

She nodded. “Well, sort of. I attended the protest because I couldn’t think of any other way of letting people know that what they’re doing at Potent Potions isn’t right.”

I thought it over. I couldn’t step in to help—no judge would rule in favor of a client represented by a shifter—but maybe I could refer her to someone who could. I smirked as I thought of Eve, my old coworker who’d cursed me and ended up with my ex-fiancé. She’d recently apologized, but still—the girl owed me one.

“You have a quill and scroll?”

Peter looked at me, surprised.

Carolyn nodded, then rose and dug around in a kitchen drawer till she found them. She brought them back to me, and I ripped off a bit of parchment and scribbled out the name of my old law firm and Eve’s name. I handed her the info, plus her feather quill and scroll back. “Tell her Jolene Hartgrave sent you and that she owes me one. Then tell her what you told me.”

Carolyn’s brows pinched together as she read my note, then she looked up at me. “Thank you.”

I waved a hand and sank back into the couch. “I hope you sue ’em for all they’re worth.” I couldn’t stand people who preyed on those in a less fortunate situation, people desperate for a better life. Growing up an orphaned shifter in the Darkmoon District, I knew what feeling low was like and how hard it was to even allow yourself to dream, much less take steps to realize that dream.

I felt for Carolyn—she’d taken that chance, only to be duped by selfish, greedy scammers. I didn’t blame her for being glad Pearl was dead—but it still begged the question of who killed