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

Peter cleared his throat. “When was the last time you saw the phoenix?”

Mark leaned his shoulder against a vine covered tree trunk. “A couple hours ago, at the start of the party.”

Daisy wagged her tail and whined. All true so far.

Peter looked around. “Why did you enter through the sanctuary door and not the ballroom side, where Quincy came in?”

Mark took a drag, then blew the smoke out. “I was already in the back, on hand in case anything went wrong when the phoenix did her thing.” He rolled the hand that held the cigarette. “Though, in reality, I have no idea what I would’ve been able to do. The flames engulf the entire enclosure and burn so hot we had to have special enchantments cast to contain them.”

Peter raised a brow. “You were waiting in the back behind the enclosure all night?”

“Nah.” The vet shook his head. “I was out there, partying, for most of the night. Just went to the back door a few minutes before I heard Quincy take the stage.”

“And while you were there you didn’t see anyone enter or leave?”

Smoke poured from Mark’s nostrils. “Nope.”

Daisy wagged her tail. True.

Peter shifted on his feet. “And was the door locked before you entered?”

“Yep. I had to unlock it before I could rush inside.” Mark sighed. “I checked Malorie’s vitals first.” He shook his head. “Dead. As was the other chick.”

I arched a brow. “You don’t have any idea who that other woman is?”

Mark scoffed. “None. I’d like to know who the shell she is and how she got in here.”

I sniffed. Yeah, Mark, you and me both.

Daisy’s tail wagged. True.

Peter licked his lips. “So you have no idea how the phoenix either escaped or was smuggled out?”

Mark took another drag, looking too calm for my liking. I glanced around at the thick foliage, imagining the firebird could spontaneously combust at any moment and turn us all to dust, and edged closer to Peter.

“No clue how the bird got out or where it is now.”

10

Mark

Peter’s notes magicked into his hands. While he bent his head and reviewed them, I toed the springy sticks that made up the nest. A few downy red feathers floated loose. We didn’t know who this other woman was, but it was likely she and Malorie had killed each other. Mark might not know who she was by sight, but maybe his boss had talked about her enemies with him. He’d worked with her long enough that they might have gotten close.

“Do you know of anyone who might have wanted to harm Malorie?”

Mark snorted, smoke gushing from his nose. “She’s made plenty of enemies. There’s her stepdaughter, Rebecca, for one.”

Peter and I exchanged knowing looks. Quincy had mentioned her as well and that she’d crashed the party tonight.

Mark crossed one arm over his chest and leaned further into the straight trunk of the palm. “Rebecca’s her stepdaughter from her first marriage to Richard Rutherford. Neither Rebecca nor her mother were friendly to Malorie—saw her as a home-wrecker.” He raised the cigarette hand to the side of his mouth. “Which she was.”

Huh. Had this Rebecca gal sought revenge on Malorie for breaking up her parents’ marriage? If so, though, why wait all these years and do it now? And how had the other woman ended up dead? Had she been some sort of ’70s-themed assassin Rebecca hired?

Mark went on after blowing out another puff of smoke. “I saw Rebecca here tonight. It surprised me—I didn’t think they were in contact.”

Peter narrowed his eyes. “How did she seem?”

Mark shrugged. “Agitated, I guess. Twitchy. She and Malorie left the party together and headed to the back.”

I frowned. “The back?”

He nodded. “Yeah, the sanctuary.” He gestured around us.

Hmm. Had Rebecca lured Malorie back here and then she and the mystery woman had gotten into a fight to the death?

Peter nodded as his quill scratched away at the parchment. “We’ll be looking into that, thank you.” He lifted his broad palm. “Did she have any other enemies that you know of?”

The vet curled his full lip. “Well, our head zookeeper Libbie just left after working here for six years. Malorie claimed it was on amicable terms, but I heard raised voices coming from the office a week ago—it was them two arguing over something.”

Now this was interesting. Quincy had been under the impression that it’d been an amicable split—just more evidence of how much his wife kept him out of the business. Why? Did she not trust him?

From what little I’d seen, he certainly seemed nervous and timid, maybe not someone she could lean on. Or was she protecting him by keeping him out of some less-than-aboveboard business dealings?

I leaned into one hip. “Do you know what their argument was about?”

Mark shrugged. “Not sure, but if I had to guess, it’d be that fellow Zane Perez from WWAAC—Witches and Wizards Against Animal Cruelty.”

Peter and I looked at each other again. Quincy had also mentioned this dude.

Mark rolled his dark eyes. “Pains in our tails. Those people are net cases. A few weeks ago, before Libbie left, I overheard her and Malorie talking about Zane. He’d only worked here a couple months, but Libbie seemed to think he was a plant from WWAAC.”

“And he no longer works at the sanctuary?” Peter’s quill magically scribbled away.

Mark snorted. “Shell, no.”

I drummed my fingers on my arm. “Is that common? For animal activists to pose as employees?”

Mark tilted his head side to side, as if debating. “I don’t know of it happening here before, but I’ve heard of it happening at private zoos. They’re always looking to jump down someone’s throats about this perceived mistreatment or that—but it’s all detritus. They just don’t like animals being behind bars, period.”

I frowned. I could sympathize with the activists. The curse Ludolf Caterwaul had placed on me took away my magical powers, as well as my ability to shift