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

Quincy scoffed, but when I leveled him a flat look, the lanky, big-eared man sobered. “Er—sorry.” He wrung the white kerchief between his long-fingered hands. “The truth is, Malorie and I didn’t have the perfect marriage, but I will miss her and was horrified to find her… like that.”

Daisy wagged her tail. True.

He shook his head and tucked the hankie in his breast pocket, then frowned and poked around in it. He withdrew a crumpled cocktail napkin with inky, illegible words scribbled on it. “Ah—the notes for my last-minute speech.” He let out another heavy sigh. “Couldn’t find them when I needed them. I’m always picking things up and misplacing others. Malorie always said my absentmindedness kept her constantly searching for things.” He shook his head. “Malorie was supposed to talk and introduce the phoenix.” He let out a humorless chuckle. “Night didn’t exactly go as planned.”

I glanced at Daisy. If he’d killed his wife and planned it, that’d be an outright lie.

She blinked her big dark eyes up at me and whined. True.

I arched a brow at Peter. At least our suspect was being honest now that he knew Daisy would call him on his bluffs.

Peter shifted on his feet. “You said a moment ago that you and your wife didn’t have a perfect marriage—what did you mean?”

Quincy’s thin shoulders slumped. “Honestly, most of the time things were fine between us and, if not totally close, peaceful. But we’d been fighting more quite recently.”

Daisy wagged her tail. True.

Peter frowned. “I’m sorry for the personal questions, but what were you fighting about?”

“Oh, uh—” Quincy licked his thin lips and glanced at Daisy. “Old wounds. I believe the Night of the Phoenix party brought old memories back for Malorie about her first husband, who disappeared at the last one, fifty years ago.”

I nodded—Heidi had filled me in on that earlier. “Why would you fight about that?”

A pink flush spread over his neck and cheeks. “I, uh—” He used the crumpled cocktail napkin to dab his sweaty forehead, leaving behind ink stains. “I believe Malorie felt I never quite measured up to her first husband.”

He hung his head, and Daisy’s eyes narrowed, the tip of her bushy tail twitching. True… mostly.

Peter and I exchanged suspicious looks.

Quincy groaned and dragged his hands through his thinning white hair. “Like I said, we weren’t perfect, but… I will miss Malorie.” He snuck at quick look at Daisy. “I never saw this coming.”

Daisy lowered her haunches to the wooden platform and glanced up at Peter and whined. True.

I quirked my lips to the side as I studied Quincy. He seemed so awkward and absentminded, and according to Daisy, he would truly miss his wife. If he had killed her, it certainly hadn’t been premeditated. I didn’t get the murderer vibe from him, but he did seem to be hiding something.

Peter’s quill and scroll magically appeared over his shoulder. He grabbed the scroll and looked over his notes. “Do you know why your wife was in the phoenix’s cage or who that other woman is?”

I lifted a finger. “And while we’re on that, any clue where the phoenix is?”

Quincy looked up at us and splayed his long hands. “I have absolutely no idea how my wife ended up in that cage.” He looked from me to Peter. “I’ve never seen that other woman before—though, that talon in her chest”—he shook a long finger—“that was my wife’s necklace. She was wearing it tonight.”

Peter and I exchanged looks. The veterinarian had said the same thing. Initially, I assumed the women had attacked each other. But how would Malorie, hit with a poisoned dart and suffering from a head injury, have killed the other woman?

I supposed the dart might have taken a few moments to take effect, and in that time, Malorie could have attacked using her talon necklace… and then fallen and hit her head? My own head was starting to hurt with all the unanswered questions… and maybe also that champagne I’d nabbed. Oops.

Peter frowned. “Could that other woman and your wife have had an altercation?”

I smirked. That was putting it mildly. If they’d killed each other, then head wounds, poison darts, and murder by necklace to the chest counted as an all-out brawl in my book.

Quincy’s brows pinched together. “No, I don’t think so.” He shook his head. “Malorie was a gentle person—I don’t think she’s capable of hurting someone else like that.”

I scoffed, and three sets of eyes swiveled my way. I raised a palm. “I’ve heard rumors that Malorie killed her first husband fifty years ago at the last phoenix rebirth party.”

Quincy’s frown deepened. “Richard? He disappeared, so we don’t even know that he’s dead.”

Daisy’s hackles rose, and she growled. Lie.

Quincy startled and blinked at the dog before shaking himself and turning to me. “Okay, fine. Personally, yes, I think he’s dead. But I’ve known Malorie a long time, and I truly believe she didn’t kill Richard.”

Peter and I glanced at the dog.

Daisy whined. True.

I shrugged and turned to Peter. I was getting bored—this guy didn’t seem to know that I only wanted the juiciest gossip and clues.

Quincy cleared his throat. “Though you know, now that I’m thinking of Richard, his daughter, Rebecca, from his first marriage, was in attendance tonight.”

Peter cocked his head. “Was that unusual?”

“Indeed.” Quincy raised his brows. “Rebecca couldn’t stand Malorie. When Richard disappeared, almost his entire estate went to Malorie. Rebecca and her mother, Richard’s first wife, were furious and bitter—never got over it.”

“Gee, I wonder why.” I licked my lips. “So why was she here tonight?”

Quincy shrugged. “Rebecca had stopped by the estate a few times—she’d been trying to get ahold of my wife for a week or two. She wanted to talk to Malorie, but Mal wouldn’t see her. Again, they didn’t have a friendly relationship, and Mal was busy preparing for the party tonight. It appears Rebecca crashed the event tonight.”

Daisy wagged her tail. All true.

I