Pet Psychic Mysteries Boxset Books 5-8 (Magic Market Mysteries Book 2) by Erin Johnson (simple ebook reader .txt) 📕

His breath hitched.

Peter’s brow creased. “We know about Malorie seeking a divorce.”

“What— I—” His hands fluttered as he patted at the pockets of his beige trousers. He pulled out a handful of pencils, a folded envelope, and even a few leaves. He frowned and shoved them back in his pockets, then fished a kerchief out of the pocket of his white button-up shirt.

He dabbed at his moist forehead, then glanced around and plunked down on the wooden bench that faced a plaque that announced this swath of jungle as the koala enclosure. He shook his head, eyes on his loafers. “It was a recent decision—I was hoping she wasn’t really going to go through with it, but I guess part of me knew she was serious.” Daisy, still watching him intently, wagged her tail. True.

He looked up at Peter. “Wait—how do you know about it?”

Peter cleared his voice, tone gentle. “Your wife was changing her will and already had an appointment with a lawyer to draw up divorce papers.”

Quincy stared at him for a moment, then his gaze grew far away. “Wow.” He let out a whimper. “She was moving fast.”

I frowned. “You didn’t know?”

“That she already had an appointment?” He blinked at me. “No.”

Daisy whined. Truth.

I shrugged my jacket off and hung it over one arm. My underarms were wet, and my shirt stuck to my lower back, and annoyance got the best of what little tact I usually had. “I’m gonna ask you again—did you shoot Malorie with the blow gun and kill her to keep her from leaving you and taking all her wealth with her?”

Peter shot me a surprised look but turned quickly back to watch Quincy’s reaction.

His cheeks flushed bright pink and he opened and closed his mouth several times as if gasping for air. He looked, wide-eyed, at Daisy, then his throat bobbed and he looked at me. “I—I’ll have you know I’ve never fired that net-tangled blow gun.” He huffed. “Frankly—frankly, I wouldn’t even know how to use it.”

Daisy whined. True.

I frowned. Not what I’d been expecting. The man had a good motive—his wealthy wife was about to leave him penniless. Even if he hadn’t known she was definitely making moves to initiate divorce, he knew she was considering it.

Quincy lifted his face. “And besides, I have witnesses that place me out in public the whole night!” He shook a finger at Peter. “I—I didn’t even have time for a bathroom break, I’ll have you know.” He shook his head. “I never even went into the sanctuary all night until after we pulled back the curtains and found Malorie sprawled on the ground like that.” His voice broke again, and he covered his mouth with a trembling hand.

I raised a brow as Daisy whined. True.

I shook my head at Peter, and he moved away from Quincy to stand close to me.

I shrugged. “Dead end, I guess.” I fought a grin. “No pun intended.”

Peter’s lips twitched, and his eyes danced. “So inappropriate.”

I had to put a hand over my mouth to hide my smirk. Yeah, flirting at a crime scene was probably not the most professional… but it was fun.

A middle-aged man in servants’ livery approached, the wooden plank pathway swaying under his feet. He approached Quincy, bent down, and murmured something in his ear, then bowed. Quincy stood. “If you’ll please excuse me, I have that appointment I mentioned earlier.”

Peter and I exchanged glances, and I shrugged. I couldn’t think of any other questions for him at the moment. Peter nodded, then addressed Quincy. “We’re done with you for now, but I’d like a few words with your employee here?”

Quincy paled but nodded, then hurried off, leaving the servant behind. I watched him go for a moment, wondering what this meeting was about.

Peter’s scroll and quill magically appeared beside his head. “What’s your name, sir, and how long have you worked for the Rutherfords?”

I rose up on tiptoe and whispered in his ear. “I’m going to snoop around a bit—interrogate some lemurs. Cool?”

He grinned at me and nodded, then turned back to the servant, who stood wringing his hands. I left them and Daisy behind on the platform and wandered among the dense plants, soon feeling like I was alone in the jungle.

I knew magical barriers kept the animals inside their enclosures, but as I passed plaques with “lion, saber-clawed jungle wolf, and spider monster” on them, I shuddered, wishing there was a more visible fence between me and them. I definitely didn’t want to talk to these guys.

I passed by the lemur enclosure—they’d been no help—and finally, I found the plaque marked “monkeys” and stopped in the middle of a rope bridge. The phoenix’s cage was directly behind me. I looked around, and finding myself alone, cleared my throat and let out some loud hoots and shrieks. Hey, monkeys! Anyone want to chat?

I waited a few moments. The hair on the back of my neck pricked at the sound of rustling branches. I held still, listening to the crickets, distant hoots, and rustling leaves. Was it getting closer?

“Gah!” I jumped back, clutching at my pounding heart as a light brown monkey flew onto the branch right in front of me, its narrow, pale eyes boring into me.

The branches bobbed and swayed with its weight, its long tail curled up and over its head. I blew out a heavy breath, then stepped forward and gripped the rope railing.

I let out some shrieks. Did you see two women come through here last night? I raised my brows. Maybe they looked like they were arguing or fighting?

It cocked its head, blinked, then scratched one of its pointed ears. It bared its teeth and shrieked at me. One woman. Going to there. It pointed to my right in the direction of the phoenix’s cage, toward the entrance to the second-story viewing platform. Dead.

I frowned and edged closer. Do