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

Peter. Our eyes locked for a brief moment, and I frowned. His were bloodshot, and dark bags hung beneath them.

He immediately dropped his gaze and shifted on his feet. My confusion deepened as I took in the five o’clock shadow that darkened his face and his wrinkled uniform. This was not the neat and professional Boy Scout of a cop I knew.

I glanced down at Daisy, who now sat beside Peter, hugging close against his leg. I needed to ask her what was going on as soon as I could. Was Peter sick? The dog whined and looked up at her partner, shifting from one front paw to the other, uneasy. I bit the inside of my lip, suddenly worried about him.

McCray clapped her hands, and it startled me out of my thoughts. “Well, what do you say, Miss Hartgrave, you joining us on this one?”

I gulped, throat dry, and glanced at Peter. He kept his eyes down, not giving me any direction. “Uh….” I shrugged. “You know, I actually was hoping to just head home. Didn’t see much that all these other ladies couldn’t tell you about, and I’m pretty beat, so….”

McCray thumbed at me. “What a jokester, this one. Ha!”

Bon stood, arms crossed, a bored glare on his face. Good times.

“The murder victim owns a pet pig she brings with her everywhere she goes, from what I understand. Who better to help us work this case, huh?” She flashed her blue eyes at me. “Don’t make me insist.”

I glanced back at Will, and he raised his brows. Didn’t look like I had much of a choice.

I turned around. “I, uh—I’m afraid there might be some personal reasons that would prevent me from working—”

“Ah.” McCray looked me up and down, a sympathetic smile on her face. “Did you fall for it? Buy in to the scheme already? Conflict of interest?”

I glanced at Peter, hoping he’d help me out already. I knew he didn’t want me working the case—why wasn’t he saying anything?

“Uh… not exactly….”

Finally, Peter shifted on his feet, seeming to drag himself from whatever depressed reverie he’d been lost in. “Sorry, Chief, I’m afraid I have to agree with Jo—Miss Hartgrave.”

I raised a brow. Oh. I was Miss Hartgrave now, huh? A hot burst of indignation flared in my chest. I crossed my arms. All this distance between us just because I’d told him I was a shifter. Wow.

“I’m not sure it’d be appropriate for her to—”

McCray held up her palms and cut Peter off. She looked between the two of us. “Let me get this straight—Miss Hartgrave is not only a witness to this murder, but also our resident pet psychic—and neither of you wants her to be working this case?” She arched her thin brows and let out a chuckle, though her eyes were hard. “If I didn’t know better, I’d assume you two were letting personal quibbles get in the way of being two professionals concerned with getting justice for a murdered woman.”

Oh, snakes. I’d forgotten how off-kilter this woman always made me feel. Her good-natured, friendly demeanor put me at ease—until she revealed that no-nonsense, incisive layer underneath.

Peter’s throat bobbed. “I see your point, Chief.” He turned his pale face my way, eyes flat. “If Jo—Miss Hartgrave wants to work the case, then I will of course willingly work with her.”

Oh, willingly, huh? I rolled my eyes. How big of him. I spun to face the chief and plastered on an overly bright smile. “Of course I want to work the case.” I flashed my eyes at Peter. “I’m in! And I’ll also willingly work with Officer Flint here.”

He sniffed and slid his gaze past me.

Wow. This was super comfortable.

“Have so much fun.” Will squeezed my shoulders from behind.

Yeah. Sure.

“We’ll meet you back at the clinic later.” He lowered his voice. “And we expect a full report.”

Heidi flashed her eyes at me and mouthed, “Good luck.”

I looked from the hard-to-read McCray to Bon’s glowering face to Peter, who could barely look at me, and finally to Daisy, who’d ratted me out in the first place. I’d need all the luck I could get.

6

The Body

Chief McCray led the way through the mostly empty auditorium. Several officers moved among the rows of seats, evidence bags magically hovering beside them as they collected bits of paper and other things left behind by the crowd after Mama Pearl had collapsed onstage.

I shivered. Our footsteps echoed through the cavernous auditorium. It’d been packed with people and vibrating with energy just an hour before. Now it was, almost literally, dead.

“Have you all heard of Potent Potions?” McCray glanced back as we snaked across the auditorium floor in a single file line. She looked past Bon, Peter, and Daisy to me, in the rear. “I know you’re familiar with it, Miss Hartgrave, since you were attending the event of your own free will.” She climbed the steps to the stage, nodded her greeting to the officer posted by the stairs, then strode forward toward the body and the small crowd gathered around it.

“I don’t mean to speak ill of the dead,” she continued once I finished climbing the steps behind everyone else. “But I sincerely hope you’re not wrapped up in this scheme, are you?”

I couldn’t answer fast enough. “No way.”

The chief nodded, her short, winged blond hair bobbing. “Good, good.” We neared the woman sprawled out on the stage. The woman in the lab coat who’d first jumped on stage when Mama Pearl collapsed still hovered nearby, intently watching all the cops and techs who worked around the dead woman’s body. Mama Pearl still lay there, open eyes unseeing. I cringed and hung back for a moment. As a lawyer, I’d seen plenty of pictures of crime scenes, but I was still getting used to being around bodies.

McCray crossed her arms and leaned close, lowering her voice. “My cousin won’t shut up about the stuff. They claim their potions cure diseases, make you lose weight, help you sleep better,