“What do you want?”
I rocked on my heels. “Pleasant evening to you too, madam.”
“Carloyn Lopez?”
“Who’s asking?”
Peter leaned over so she could see the gold badge pinned to his uniform. “I’m Officer Flint, this is my partner, Daisy, and my associate, Ms. Hartgrave—we’d like to have a few words with you.”
The dark eye widened for just a moment as the woman inside took in Peter’s canine partner. The door closed, locks clicked, the chain slid, and then the woman, who I assumed was Carolyn, stepped aside and held the door for us. “Come in.”
Wow, what a warm welcome. I led the way into the cramped space. A tiny kitchen lay to the left, dirty dishes piled in the sink. Not that I was judging—at least the woman had plates to dirty. Mine were all the disposable kind. I edged into the combination living space/bedroom.
Picket signs were piled high on her bed to the left, while a threadbare couch and a crooked bookshelf comprised the living room. More picket signs lay stacked against the wall under the window, where flashing neon lights shone through the thin curtains.
Beside them, golden chests, just like the one I’d seen Sue display at the Potent Potions party, were stacked at haphazard angles. There had to be dozens of them, and if they each cost five hundred merkles like Sue had quoted us, that represented a small fortune.
The woman tucked her shoulder-length black curly hair behind her ears. With a grim set to her mouth, she swept an arm toward the couch. “Please, have a seat.”
I perched on the edge of the sofa, and Daisy set her haunches down on the dusty rug between me and Peter. I leaned down and let out a quiet whine. Try not to shed too much.
She whipped her head around and glared at me, baring her teeth. This coming from the woman who trails dandruff behind her like fairy dust.
I let out a choked laugh, then nudged her with my knee. Good one.
She kept her eyes glued to Carolyn, but the tip of her tail wagged just the tiniest amount, brushing over the toe of my boot.
Carolyn dragged a wooden stool over from the kitchen breakfast bar and sat on it in front of us. “So what’s this about?”
She gathered her long cardigan around herself, and I studied her features. She did look vaguely familiar—I’d probably seen her at the protest the other night, but I couldn’t say for sure.
“We wanted to ask you about Pearl Litt’s recent death.”
Her lip curled in a cruel smile. “That witch got what she deserved.”
I dusted my hands off and glanced at Peter. “Well, then. Case closed?”
His lip twitched, but that tiny spark of a smile died as quickly as it’d started. I sank back on the couch and drummed my fingers on my thigh—it was a weird day when I shared more laughs with Daisy than Peter.
He leaned forward and laced his hands together between his knees. “Why do you say that?” He jerked his chin toward the picket signs under the window. “We understand you used to be a consultant for Potent Potions—why were you leading a protest outside the summit the night Pearl Litt died?”
The gleam in Carolyn’s eyes faded. “Wait a moment—you’re not thinking I killed her?”
I raised my brows. “The angry protestor who’s happy she’s dead? No. Why would we think that?”
Carolyn huffed and adjusted her long cardigan. “I didn’t kill Pearl Litt—despite fantasizing about it.”
Peter and I glanced at Daisy, who whined. Truth.
Guess we could cross Carolyn’s name off the suspect list.
She glared at us. “Do you have any idea what those people are like?” She scrunched up her face and her voice rose, mocking. “Mama Pearl and Papa Ralph just want to welcome you to the Potent Potions family to help empower you.” She scoffed. “Those two are parasites—they prey on the weak. And stupid me.” She smacked the heel of her hand to her forehead. “I fell for it. I was desperate, and I fell for their promises of wealth and living the high life.” She shook her head. “I didn’t even need the fancy clothes or vacations—I just wanted to be able to pay my bills, so like an idiot, I signed up to be an independent consultant.”
Peter nodded. “When was this?”
Carolyn took a deep breath and her eyes slid to the side. “Uh… maybe seven months ago. They told me I could make more money in a month than I made in a year at my day job, that the buy-in for the starter kit would be paid back and then some in mere days.”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course, they don’t tell you that the only way for that to happen is to sucker more fools into the scheme under you. I believed their lies about the miracle potions and how they sold themselves—yeah, about as well as a ship with a hole floats.”
I gestured to the piles of golden chests against the wall. “Is that why you have so much inventory?”
Carolyn’s eyes darted to the pile, but she quickly looked away. “I can barely stand to look at them—it makes me sick to think how much money I’ve lost. I believed my upline—when I wasn’t making money, they told me I just needed to try harder. No matter if I was driving away all my friends and family. They told me I needed more inventory, to be able to offer more variety of potions, so I bought all those.”
Carolyn heaved a weary sigh. “And when half the vials were showing up already uncorked, or half empty or mislabeled, and customers complained and returned them, guess who
