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

Peter narrowed his eyes. "Did you see Malorie or anyone else when you snuck in to get the wombat?"

Libbie’s chest heaved, and it took her a few moments to gather herself. "I figured with the party going on, nobody would be in the back… but I saw Malorie talking with her stepdaughter, Rebecca. It was through several enclosures, so I couldn't hear what they were saying, but Rebecca seemed really upset—her face was all red and blotchy."

Peter and I exchanged significant looks.

“Did Rebecca look mad enough to kill?"

Libbie shrugged.

I lifted a palm. “Can you think of a reason Rebecca would've wanted to kill Malorie?”

Libbie let out a humorless laugh. "Aside from the fact that she hated her? The woman stole her dad away from her mom and broke up their family—she never got over it."

Peter nodded at me. That jived with what the others had told us. Rebecca Rutherford was seeming more and more like our prime suspect.

That thinking crease appeared between Peter’s brows. "Aside from Rebecca, can you think of anyone who would have wanted to harm Malorie?”

Libbie snickered. "Before tonight, I would've said most people should be afraid of Malorie harming them."

Peter shot her a perplexed look.

I leaned into one hip. "Are you referring to the rumors that she murdered her first husband?"

Libbie nodded. "Yep."

Peter glanced at Daisy, who indicated she was telling the truth. He turned back to Libbie. "You believe she did it?”

"Oh, yeah." Libbie rolled a wrist. "If you ask me, she got what was coming to her."

Wow. This gal wasn’t mincing words. Peter's eyes grew round, as I'm sure mine did.

Libbie startled and waved her hands. "Not that I did it! But to answer your question, you might look into WWAAC, the animal rights organization. They sent this guy, Zane Perez, to be a mole. He tried to get me to turn on the sanctuary, to say they were mistreating animals and stuff."

I arched a brow. “Were they?”

She snorted. “Not that I saw. I told Malorie about Zane, and they had a huge fight—she practically threw him out of the sanctuary and threatened that if he or anyone from WWAAC ever tried to get in again, she’d sue them for everything they're worth."

I frowned. "Sue? That's it? She didn’t threaten to disembowel them or anything?”

Libbie shrugged. "Nah. Malorie was pretty even keeled most of the time."

I gave her a doubtful look. “Except for when she was murdering her husband?”

She gave me a sheepish look. “Yeah, except for then.”

Peter frowned at her. “Any idea why we found a certain photo of the last Night of the Phoenix party in the office safe? Quincy indicated you’d found it and showed it to Malorie.”

She glanced at Daisy, then smirked. “Yeah, I think it reminded Malorie of her ex-husband and she felt guilty and wanted to lock it away.”

We looked at Daisy. She whined. Truth.

Libbie’s shoulders slumped and she clasped her hands together beseechingly, looking from Peter to me. "Look—Cassie was one of my original animals. I raised her since she was a baby, bottle-fed her even. Can I please take Cassie with me?"

I pressed my lips together and looked up at Peter, waiting for his decision. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's pretty clear, per the law, that this wombat belongs to the sanctuary." He let out a heavy sigh. "At the same time, the sanctuary is now understaffed, a dangerous firebird is on the loose, and I'm not sure how safe the place is, given we’re dealing with a double homicide."

Libbie’s eyes grew round. "Double?"

Peter ignored her question and turned to me. "If you're game, Jolene, maybe you could read the wombat’s mind and see who she'd rather live with?" He raised his brows, and I grinned and nodded.

"Sure. Why not?" I tromped through the grasses, lifted the surprisingly heavy leather backpack, and half carried, half dragged the grunting wombat a little way away from everyone else. Despite the whistling of the wind and the odd animal shriek here and there, it was pretty quiet out, and I didn't want to be overheard by those who didn't know about my special abilities.

I crouched down in front of the backpack, then glanced up at Libbie. “Do wombats bite?" Come to think of it, what was a wombat even? I didn’t think I’d ever seen one in person.

Libbie smiled and called back, "No way. Not my Cassie. She's a sweetheart."

That didn’t exactly answer my question, so with some misgivings I slowly unzipped the top of the pack. A brown furry head as large as mine popped out of the pack. The thing looked like a mix between a koala and a giant hamster. Its little round ears twitched, as did its whiskers, as its dark nose sniffed the air.

I took a deep breath, and never having spoken wombat before, hesitantly opened my mouth, unsure of the noises that were about to come out. As quietly as I could, I let out a series of grunts, clicks, and finished it all off with one hoarse cough. Lovely.

Heya, Cassie, my name’s Jolene. Can I ask you a few questions?

The wombat blinked her dark round eyes at me. She let out a piercing shriek that sounded like a pig squeal. I jerked back, shocked.

Hi, there! I'm Cassie! Nice to meet you! She lifted her nose in the air and took a deep breath followed by a heavy huff. She let out another shriek. Ah, the sweet, sweet taste of freedom.

I frowned, unsure if she was talking about freedom after her time in the sanctuary or her time the backpack. I let out a few more grunts and groans. Do you know this woman over here?

The backpack tipped and rocked as Cassie pulled her mouse-like paws out and gripped the open edge of the pack. She rotated around until she could see Libbie, then bounced like a dog happy to see its owner. She let out a few