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

paced in front of the roaring fire. The maid stood by the window, wringing her hands, and the lawyer pulled up a seat beside Mrs. Harrington, his eyes narrowed as he watched Peter.

Mr. Harrington paused and stood with one hand on the stone mantle of the fireplace, the crossed swords and shield bearing the family bat crest above him. I looked around for Bartholomew, the family mascot, but didn’t spot him. He was probably staying wisely far away from what was about to go down.

Mr. Harrington, looking refined in a cashmere sweater and shiny leather loafers, lifted a palm. “What’s this all about? Have you caught Letty’s killer?”

Peter, with Daisy at his side, nodded at me, and I took a deep breath. Snakes, I hoped I was right about all of this and that the cops back at Chaz’s showed up with the evidence soon.

I stepped forward. “Yes, I believe we have found her killer—and they’re in this room.”

“Gasp!” Mrs. Harrington rolled her eyes. “Let me guess, the maid did it?”

May choked.

Mrs. Harrington, her eyes glazed, leaned over to the family lawyer. “We’re going to sue the entire police department, yes, for putting us through such unnecessary theatrics?”

Inspector Bon, who leaned against the wood-paneled walls near the door, spluttered. “Come again? I—I don’t think that’s called for!”

The balding lawyer smirked, then glared at Bon. “I definitely think someone needs to be held accountable.”

The inspector’s neck flushed red, and he glowered at me. “You better be right about this.”

I swallowed, my throat tight. I blew out a shaky breath, suddenly feeling as nervous as I used to get before delivering my closing arguments in court. I glanced at Peter, and he gave me an encouraging nod, then winked. I nodded and squared my shoulders, feeling just a bit more confident.

I cleared my throat. “I believe that when we’re finished presenting all the evidence, you’ll be too busy running damage control for the guilty party to sue anyone.” I shot the lawyer a bright smile, and his expression darkened.

I turned and addressed the rest of the room. “To recap—Letty Jones died of an allergic reaction. However, despite the plate of strawberries found near her body, no traces of berries were found in her stomach or digestive system—only on her lips.”

Mrs. Harrington scoffed. “She could’ve just reacted too quickly to have digested the berries.”

I nodded. “Possibly.” I shifted on my feet. “We also know that family friend, Rachel Whitmore, enticed Chaz to go on a picnic with her to an old spot next to the canal on pretense of apologizing. We know that she actually used this time to not only make another pass at Chaz, but when that failed, to pick wild strawberries growing in the woods on the family estate.”

Mr. and Mrs. Harrington snapped their gazes to me.

Mrs. Harrington sniffed. “Go, Rachel.” She turned to her son. “I told you that girl had determination and drive. You should’ve picked her.”

“Mom!” Chaz shook his head.

I licked my lips. “Rachel sent Joe Santos, the caterer, a note and a bag of merkles with the berries, bribing him to put them in the food.”

The lawyer scoffed. “So Rachel Whitmore killed the bride, alongside her accomplice, Joe Santos?” He frowned at Bon, then turned back to me. “So why call us all in here like this?”

I winked. “You’re close, but no—Rachel and Joe didn’t kill Letty. Joe was still in love with Letty, so he kept the money but didn’t add the strawberries. We tested all the food from that day, and it was all clean.”

The fire crackled and spat up glowing embers.

Mr. Harrington frowned. “What about that plate of berries? Maybe he just left them for her, out in the open, and she used them to kill herself?”

I smirked. “I’m getting to that. Joe didn’t place the strawberries in the room, Chaz did.”

All eyes swiveled to the groom, lounging on the chaise. He startled upright. “Wait—what?” He scoffed. “No! Why would I?”

Cybil lifted her pointed chin. “This is outrageous! Chaz is a respected member of the community and—”

Daisy, beside Peter, growled. Lie.

Peter and I grinned at each other before he stepped forward. “My dog says you’re lying, Chaz.”

Cybil snapped her gaze to Chaz beside her and paled.

Mrs. Harrington scoffed and looked around the room. “But the dog’s got rabies or something, right? We can’t trust it!”

Peter shot her a wide-eyed look. “She has allergies.” He grinned at me. “But with the help of a veterinarian friend and the precinct’s coroner, we were able to concoct an anti-allergy potion for dogs that’s working wonders for Daisy.”

The German shepherd barked at Chaz, and everyone jumped. Ya! I’ve got my sense of smell back, and you smell like a dirty liar!

Peter reached down and patted her head.

I turned to address Chaz. “You saw what Rachel was up to, gathering strawberries at the picnic, and it gave you an idea. You picked some yourself, and, despite your pretense of checking all the food that the caterers brought in, were the one who brought berries to the wedding.”

Chaz’s face scrunched up. “What? This is all lies.”

Daisy barked again, teeth bared. Liar!

He shrank back into the chaise, edging away from the dog.

I held back a grin. I was on the right track—I just hoped the rest of my theory held up. “Chaz hid the berries in the pocket of his tux. He then smeared the berries on his lips before saying his vows, and when he kissed Letty, he triggered her allergies. They were fast-acting, and she immediately began to suffer.”

Mrs. Harrington flipped her palms up. “This is preposterous! Why didn’t Letty just use her anti-allergy potion then?”

I gestured at Chaz. “Because, when they embraced and he delivered the fatal kiss, your son nabbed the life-saving syringe out of Letty’s wedding dress pocket.”

Mr. Harrington scoffed. “Surely someone would have noticed.”

I shook my head. “Everyone was watching the kiss. Besides, among all the poofy layers of her dress, it’d be easy to reach in and make it look like he was