Daisy’s bushy tail wagged. Truth.
TACT
So far, Opal Whitaker appeared to be telling the truth, but I sensed some tension under all this. Maybe a little sibling rivalry? It couldn’t be easy, if she viewed herself as the talent, to have her sister get all the credit and celebrity status.
I thought back to the way the whole auditorium had vibrated with cheers and applause for Ralph and Pearl—she hadn’t even been onstage to be recognized. That had to sting even if she was no longer a part owner. I decided to test my theory.
“Did you—”
“Are you—”
Peter and I both stopped and looked at each other. I gulped and waited for him to continue, but when he stayed silent, I turned to Opal and started again.
“Did you—”
“Are you—”
We both stopped and faced each other again. Hot annoyance flushed up my neck and chest. I huffed. “After you.”
Peter’s throat bobbed and he leveled me a grim look, eyes flat. “No. After you.”
I sighed through my nose and turned back to face our witness. I gritted my teeth and willed myself to breathe. I’d just told him who I was—what I was. It’s not like I could help being a shifter—I was just born that way. And it literally changed nothing about who I was or how I’d acted with him. Especially considering the curse had taken away my abilities to shift, so it wasn’t like I was about to sprout wings and spontaneously shift into an owl and go flapping away anytime soon.
I balled my hands into fists and tried to pull my shoulders down from around my ears. If he was going to make it awkward, fine, he could be awkward, but I was going to do my job. Partly because I was desperate for money again, and partly just to spite him.
“Miss Whitaker.”
“Hm?” She blinked at me.
“Are you glad your sister’s dead?”
She choked. “Excuse me?”
I probably could have been more tactful, but Peter had annoyed the tact right out of me. I folded my arms. “Just answer the question.”
Opal looked down at Daisy for a long moment, then lifted her gaze to me. “Pearl didn’t deserve to die.”
Daisy whined. True.
Opal sniffled. “I—I can’t believe she’s gone.”
Daisy wagged her tail. Also true.
I crossed my arms. A killer would probably think the victim had it coming—or, at the very least, wouldn’t be surprised by the outcome of their murderous efforts. I realized I probably enjoyed this consulting a little too much when I found myself a little disappointed that we weren’t talking to Pearl’s killer.
I looked at Peter and rolled a wrist, sweeping my upturned palm toward Pearl. “Your turn.”
“Did you make the potion Pearl drank?”
Opal nodded. “The potions our independent consultants sell are made by a manufacturer—I just couldn’t keep up with the sheer volume once business really took off. But I still personally make all the potions that I, Ralph, and Pearl take—took—for our daily health.”
Peter lifted a brow. “Did you poison it?”
She gasped and pressed a hand to her ample bosom. “Seas below, no.” She shook her head, then glanced down at Daisy.
The dog cocked her head but whined. True.
I looked at Peter and shrugged—guess we had our answer.
He frowned. “Did you kill your sister?”
It was my turn to frown. Peter wasn’t usually so direct or unsympathetic. That was usually my job.
Opal stomped her stilettoed foot. “No!”
Daisy whined. True.
I flashed my eyes at Peter, and he let out a sigh. Snakes. Would he let up now?
Opal huffed and glanced past us to Chief McCray and Inspector Bon behind us. “I’ve answered all your questions. Why am I being interrogated when my sister’s killer is out there!” She pointed toward the lobby.
I mean… I didn’t like the lady, but I had to agree with her. She didn’t seem to be the murderer, and we were wasting our time by continuing to question her about it… unless we took a different angle.
I leaned into one hip. “You were first on the—” I’d almost said body. “—scene. Did you notice anything—any clue that might point to who did kill your sister?”
She crossed her arms and scoffed. “Well, Ralph, her husband, handed her the vial—which he’d been keeping in his coat. I mean….” She arched a brow.
Daisy cocked her head and whined. Partial truth.
Peter pinched his brows together. “Any reason you’d suspect Ralph of wanting to kill your sister?”
She glanced at Daisy, then sniffed. “He’s a man. You’ll figure it out.”
While we’d been speaking, the cops had magicked Pearl’s body onto a stretcher and covered it with a white tarp. They now lifted her, an officer on each end, and carried her across the stage toward the steps.
Opal gestured toward her sister’s body. “Now if we’re quite done here, I’d like to accompany Pearl to the station.” She pursed her heavily lined lips. “I want to make sure that vial is properly tested. And that her body is treated with respect.” She shook a finger at Peter. “I don’t want an autopsy done unless absolutely necessary—and it shouldn’t be if that vial comes back positive for poison.”
Daisy’s tail wagged. Truth.
Peter and I turned to face the new chief and Bon. Bon scowled but shrugged. “I’d rather she be a pain in Gabriel’s rear than mine.”
McCray winked. “Be our guest. I don’t mind a suspect who wants to stick close by—handy if we think of more questions for you.”
Opal hustled past, her heels clicking across the stage as she followed the cops carrying the stretcher.
PAPA RALPH
A sniffling woman opened the door for us, and I followed Peter and Daisy into Ralph Litt’s penthouse hotel suite.
“Wow.” French doors opened to a view of the entire island of Bijou Mer stretched out below, all twinkling lights and charm. The moon reflected off the dark sea, which stretched on to the horizon, and sheer silk curtains fluttered in the gentle sea breeze. I badly wished to just stand out on that enormous balcony and take in the view—not only because it was gorgeous, but because
