“No!” The assistant shook her head. “I didn’t even know Ralph had it on him.”
Peter narrowed his eyes. “So you never even touched that vial?”
Her chest heaved. “I’m telling you—no!”
Daisy, who stood between Peter and me, wagged her tail. Truth.
Peter nodded, his gaze far away and lost in thought. I turned to Avery Ann. “Look… were you and Ralph having an affair?”
She recoiled, aghast. “No! And… ew.”
Daisy wagged her tail. True.
I mean, I agreed with the sentiment—ew, indeed—but if they weren’t having an affair, what was going on with those two? I cleared my throat. “Okay. Do you know of anyone else who’d have wanted to hurt Pearl?”
“No.”
Daisy growled, and the girl huffed. “Fine. I just—it’s not right to speak ill of the dead, but…” She looked around and leaned even closer. “Pearl could be a difficult personality, and she and Ralph had recently made some policy changes that I, uh—” She pressed her eyes shut for a moment. “I heard rumors that some of our top sellers were unhappy.”
“Like who?” I turned my head and gazed out over the sea of thousands of ladies in white.
She shook her head. “I really can’t say.”
Peter let out a heavy sigh. “You’ll have to say if we bring you up to the station for questioning.”
The whites showed around her eyes before she winced and shook her head. “Fine! You didn’t hear this from me, but I’ve heard that Peyton Thornsbury is furious.” She jerked her chin, and Peter and I turned to follow her gaze.
A middle-aged redhead in a white maxi dress with huge black flowers all over it stood surrounded by a small group of fervently chatting women. She sipped from a straw, then said something, and the women around her all leaned closer, hanging on every word.
Peter turned back to Avery Ann. “Thank you for your help. We’ll be in touch.”
She nodded, then dipped her head and scurried off toward the staircase. Peter shrugged. “Shall we?”
Since that was apparently as much enthusiasm as I was going to get out of him, I nodded. “Sure. Why not?”
I followed him and Daisy over to Peyton and her clique.
12
PEYTON THORNSBURY
Peyton’s self-satisfied smirk died as soon as she turned and spotted Peter, Daisy, and me approaching. The women around her all grew quiet and gaped at us.
“Peyton Thornsbury?”
The redhead lifted a brow and looked Peter up and down. “Yes?”
“We’d like to ask you a few questions.”
The half a dozen women gathered around her all snapped their gazes to her face. The tall woman drew herself up to her full height, nearly eye level with Peter, and squared her shoulders. “Ask away. I’ve got nothing to hide—anything you have to say to me can be said in front of these women.”
The shorter lady with curly brown hair to her left lifted her chin. “Yeah—Peyton’s got nothing to hide.”
Another one of the gaggle nodded. “She’s like a mother and a best friend to me.”
A third chimed in. “She should be running the company!”
I kept my eyes on the tall cocktail table they stood around and pointed at a plate with a few squares of cheese. “Anybody going to finish that?”
All eyes swiveled my way, expressions varying from disgust to confusion to who’s this witch? I ignored it all and raised my brows. “So that’s a no?”
I reached across the woman closest to me and scooped it up, plunking a bite of soft brie in my mouth. Hey—I wasn’t happy about struggling to eat again, but this was where we were.
Peter, who looked more concerned than judgy, turned back to Peyton. His scroll, full of lines of notes, and his feathered quill appeared beside his head. “Alright, Ms. Thornsbury, can you tell me about your involvement in the company?”
She lifted her chin. “Potent Potions is my entire life. I was floundering until it came along.” She threw an arm around the short brunette beside her and pulled her against her side in a tight hug. “These ladies are my family and best friends, and this business is my livelihood.”
The blond chimed in. “Peyton’s the only Vice Premier Witch from our neighborhood. She knows what it’s like to dream of a better life for your family and to get it.” She raised her martini glass, and the other ladies, except for Peyton, saluted with their own drinks.
Peyton leveled a smug look at Peter, which, though he and I were on the outs, I found extremely irritating.
I talked around the bite of pepperjack in my mouth. “Then why would someone high up have told us you had a grudge against Pearl?”
The women around us grew silent, mouths half open. The brunette smashed against Peyton’s side shook her head, curls bouncing. “No way!” She jabbed a finger at me. “That’s an outright lie from someone who’s just jealous of her success.”
I smirked at Peyton. “So you had nothing against Pearl or the company then?”
The woman’s throat bobbed, and she shifted on her sandaled feet. “No.”
Daisy let out a low, menacing growl. Lie.
I held up a finger. “Oop! That means you’re lying.” I popped another piece of cheese in my mouth.
Peyton set her jaw and released the brunette at her side.
Peter gestured toward the side of the room. “Perhaps you’d like to speak in private now?”
Peyton glared at us but tried for a light tone that came out strained. “Don’t worry, ladies, these people are simply confused. I’ll be right back.”
Daisy growled again, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. As much as the mutt annoyed me, she came in handy every now and then.
We slid through the dense crowd, passing a few other officers busy taking statements, and gathered near one of the doors to the auditorium. Peyton, her back to the wall, crossed her arms and glowered as Peter, Daisy, and I huddled in close.
She let out a heavy sigh. “Fine,
