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

her? Peter still didn’t have the official report back, but given the sudden nature of her death on stage, I thought we could safely assume it wasn’t natural causes.

Carolyn shook her head again and tucked the slip of paper I’d given her into the pocket of her sweater. “Again, thank you.” She cocked her head as she studied me. “You’re not the one who sent me the letter, are you?”

I frowned. “What letter?”

Carolyn shrugged. “Me and the other protestors, we received anonymous letters saying we all had reasons to have beef with the company. It’s what brought us together and got us organized. The letters even tipped us off to the location of the big annual summit.”

She smirked, though her eyes remained flat. “We all got excommunicated as soon as we spoke out, even the tiniest amount, about what was going on. I thought all those women were my best friends, but they all just cut me off like that.” She snapped her fingers. “If it weren’t for the letters, we’d have all assumed we were alone.”

Peter shifted in his seat. “Let me get this straight—you didn’t organize the protest? That was set up by the writer of these anonymous letters?”

She nodded, and Peter and I exchanged looks. Now, this was intriguing. And Peter had looked at me, so—progress on all fronts!

“We believe you didn’t kill Pearl Litt, but do you know who might have? Maybe one of your fellow protestors?” Peter raised his dark brows. “I know you may have felt her death was justified, but murder still needs to have consequences.”

Carolyn glared. “Yeah? So does cheating people of their life savings!” She shook her head. “But how long have you got? That company’s scammed thousands of women; most are just afraid to speak up. Any of them could have wanted to kill Pearl.” She smirked. “And no, I don’t know of any specific plans by fellow protestors, but to be honest, I wouldn’t tell you even if I did. Like I said—Pearl got what she deserved.”

Daisy’s tail wagged. She’s telling the truth.

We rose and thanked Carolyn for her time. On our way out, I turned and reminded her to contact Eve.

She nodded. “Thank you, again.” The briefest of tight smiles flashed on her face before she closed and locked the door behind us.

18

Poisoned

Peter, Daisy and I headed back into the cool night. Bats winged overhead, squeaking as they passed in front of the misty moon. I leaned against a crumbling brick wall as Peter paced in front of me, Daisy following on his heels.

“So…” I crossed my arms. “Where to next?”

A line creased the space between Peter’s brows—his thinking line. “Someone high up in the company had to have sent those letters.”

I raised a brow. “The ones to Carolyn and the other protestors?”

He nodded and ran his tongue over his teeth. “Who else would have had access to the names and addresses of women who’d spoken out against the company? Were there a lot of them?”

I thought back to the glimpse I’d gotten of them the other night. “Yeah…, at least forty, I’d say.”

Peter nodded and continued to pace, the heels of his scuffed shoes clicking on the broken cobblestones. I frowned—normally his shoes were so shiny they reflected the moonlight. The guy was clearly going through something—could he really be that torn up about me being a shifter?

“Yeah, I’d say it has to be someone high up in the company then.”

I bit my lip as I thought over the people we’d met. Peyton was just a high-up consultant—I doubted she’d have access to that many women’s names and information. There was Ralph—why would he want to organize a protest against his own company? Unless he wanted to cause a distraction and pin the blame on them while he killed his wife. I nodded— a real possibility.

But my gut was pulling me in a different direction. “I’m betting on that assistant, Avery Ann.”

Peter kept pacing but glanced my way. “Really?”

I nodded and lifted a palm. “She looks all innocent, but she had motive, means, and opportunity. She could easily have sent those letters—she knows everything the company’s doing and had heard rumors about Peyton. She’d have heard about who had spoken up about issues with the company.”

Peter tipped his head side to side. “Yeah… maybe.”

I scoffed. “Maybe?” Why wouldn’t he think it was her? She was clearly hiding something. I pictured the girl and sighed. Oh. “Whatever. You would hesitate to suspect those big baby blues of hers.” I batted my lashes.

Peter glanced up and frowned, though pink spots burned on his cheeks. “No. I just want all the information first. We still don’t have the coroner’s report back— we don’t even know for sure Pearl Litt was murdered.”

I raised my brows, annoyance prickling the back of my neck. “Oh, you want all the information first?” I sniffed. “That’s a first. Because I thought you enjoyed jumping to conclusions about people without giving them a chance to explain themselves.”

Peter stopped walking and turned to face me. “That’s unfair.”

I flashed my eyes at him. “Is it?”

Daisy, who’d also stopped, looked between Peter and me, ears flat.

Peter opened his mouth, no doubt ready with some retort, then gave a little jump and touched the gumball-sized communication device in his ear. He gave me a hard look, then half-turned away. “Flint here.”

I rolled my eyes. Of course. Saved from having to actually explain himself and his prejudices by a call from the station.

Peter kept his finger pressed to his ear, his chin tucked and nodded. “Mm-hmm…. Yeah? You sure?… Okay. Can you tell Edna to have a few officers sent up to meet me at the headquarters? Thanks.”

He looked up, the bags under his eyes dark. “That was Gabriel; he finished with his report.”

I kicked some gravel. “Did he do an autopsy?”

“No.” Peter’s brow was pinched. “Said it wasn’t necessary and the sister, Opal, was pretty adamant we don’t do one. Didn’t want us ‘cutting into her sister.’”

I frowned.