I gulped and glanced up at Peter. “She was really shy—mostly kept to herself.” I shrugged. “Sorry.”
He shook his head. “No, that’s good. That jives with what a few people we’ve interviewed observed about her.”
“How’d she die?”
Peter led the way closer, and we crouched down near her head. My skin crawled at being this close to a dead body—this was one part of my consulting gig that I hadn’t gotten used to yet.
Peter used his wand to lift her white veil. “She has a rash around her mouth and throat, and you can see her neck and face are pretty swollen.”
Letty’s dark skin had faded to gray, and her unseeing eyes stared back at me. Her full lips, now covered in hives, parted to reveal that little gap between her front teeth. A couple of the boys had teased her about that before I told them to stop. I cringed and turned away.
“She appears to have died of an allergy and—” Peter paused and lightly placed his large hand on my shoulder. “Sorry. You okay?”
I shook my head, my throat and chest tight, and fought to send my dinner back down to my stomach where it belonged. After I won that battle, I shot Peter a grateful look. “Thanks—mostly it’s just the whole dead body thing.”
He nodded, though his concerned eyes still lingered on me.
I waved it off and turned partially back towards Letty’s body, shooting Peter a watery smile. “You’d think my career as a lawyer would’ve prepared me for being around stiffs.” I nudged him with my elbow. “Eh?”
He rolled his eyes but chuckled. “Har har.”
For the first time, I noticed the smashed plate of strawberries and the broken champagne flute on the ground. I’d probably missed them in my solid attempts to avoid looking in the direction of Letty’s head.
I pointed. “You said something about an allergy?”
He nodded. “We’re told she was deadly allergic to strawberries.”
“Oh yeah, I remember that actually. A kid gave her some one time, and she fell over, couldn’t breathe. Mrs. Rankle, our headmistress, ran to the medicine cupboard and gave her a shot.” I raised my brows. “Must’ve been an anti-allergy potion. She pretty quickly recovered, but it was the talk of the orphanage for a few days, let me tell you.”
Peter frowned. “Sounds scary.”
I shrugged. “I grew up in an orphanage in the Darkmoon. Scary’s relative.”
I frowned. Letty clearly knew she was allergic to strawberries, so why eat a plate of them? “Was it suicide?”
He shook his head. “We don’t know. One of the many perplexing things about this case.”
I huffed and shifted my weight to my other leg, still crouched beside Peter and the body. “And if it was suicide, why get married and then off herself at her own wedding? If it was cold feet or something, why go through with it?”
It didn’t feel like suicide to me, in my gut. Letty had been shy and reserved, but if she’d made it out of the Darkmoon to this kind of life, it meant she was also strong and determined. At the very least, she was a sweet, sensitive kid and she didn’t deserve this—no one did. Only, too often deaths in the Darkmoon District didn’t get thorough investigations. I wanted to see justice for Letty.
Peter rose, and I stood as well. He gestured to the vanity. Its drawers stuck out, and one lay on the ground, overturned. The various perfume bottles and jars of makeup and creams had all been knocked over, some smashed on the ground beside the plate and champagne flute.
“It looks like the place was ransacked. Did she do that herself? Was she looking for something? Or did someone else do it between the time she left the room to say her vows and then ran back inside?” Peter let out a heavy sigh and addressed one of the cops magicking the cosmetics into evidence bags. “Smith, can you make sure to have those tested for strawberries and poisons, at least until we confirm the cause of death.”
The young cop nodded.
Peter licked his lips. “Let’s have the champagne tested, the rim of the flute, too, for strawberries or any toxins.” He shook his head and stared down at his shiny black shoes.
I grinned, happy to see they were back to their usual mirror-like polish. A disheveled Jolene? To be expected. I also liked to think I kind of rocked the slightly grungy vibe. But last week’s disheveled Peter had been… unsettling.
“I suppose we should go interview more witnesses.” He sighed. “Not good timing for Daisy to be out of commission.”
I startled. “Out of commission? What the shell happened to her?” While it was no secret that the German shepherd wasn’t my biggest fan, I liked to think we’d made some big strides lately. I’d even gotten a couple of tiny tail wags out of her. And as much as I enjoyed teasing Daisy, it’s not like I wanted anything actually bad to happen to her.
Peter gave a sad grin. “She’ll be okay, but…” He pressed his lips tight together.
I flashed my eyes at him and bounced on my toes. “Out with it, Peter! What happened? Is she going to make it?”
He kept his mouth a grim line and stared down at me. “She’s got… seasonal allergies.”
I shot him a flat look. “Better order the gravestone now.” I threw my head back and let out a noisy exhale. “Snakes, Peter, you had me worried.” I raised my brows. “Seasonal allergies? Really?!”
He nodded gravely. “The Sansea Winds are kicking up a lot of pollen.” He shook his head. “She’s having a really rough time of it.”
“Oh my goddess.” I spun on my heel and Peter followed me out of the room. I lowered my voice as we passed the officers stationed by the door. “I thought she was dying or something!”
“No!” Peter waved his hands. “But she’s really suffering.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure she’ll pull through.”
He quirked his lips to the side, the picture of an overprotective
