The lawyer scoffed. “So Rachel Whitmore killed the bride, alongside her accomplice, Joe Santos?” He frowned at Bon, then turned back to me. “So why call us all in here like this?”
I winked. “You’re close, but no—Rachel and Joe didn’t kill Letty. Joe was still in love with Letty, so he kept the money but didn’t add the strawberries. We tested all the food from that day, and it was all clean.”
The fire crackled and spat up glowing embers.
Mr. Harrington frowned. “What about that plate of berries? Maybe he just left them for her, out in the open, and she used them to kill herself?”
I smirked. “I’m getting to that. Joe didn’t place the strawberries in the room, Chaz did.”
All eyes swiveled to the groom, lounging on the chaise. He startled upright. “Wait—what?” He scoffed. “No! Why would I?”
Cybil lifted her pointed chin. “This is outrageous! Chaz is a respected member of the community and—”
Daisy, beside Peter, growled. Lie.
Peter and I grinned at each other before he stepped forward. “My dog says you’re lying, Chaz.”
Cybil snapped her gaze to Chaz beside her and paled.
Mrs. Harrington scoffed and looked around the room. “But the dog’s got rabies or something, right? We can’t trust it!”
Peter shot her a wide-eyed look. “She has allergies.” He grinned at me. “But with the help of a veterinarian friend and the precinct’s coroner, we were able to concoct an anti-allergy potion for dogs that’s working wonders for Daisy.”
The German shepherd barked at Chaz, and everyone jumped. Ya! I’ve got my sense of smell back, and you smell like a dirty liar!
Peter reached down and patted her head.
I turned to address Chaz. “You saw what Rachel was up to, gathering strawberries at the picnic, and it gave you an idea. You picked some yourself, and, despite your pretense of checking all the food that the caterers brought in, were the one who brought berries to the wedding.”
Chaz’s face scrunched up. “What? This is all lies.”
Daisy barked again, teeth bared. Liar!
He shrank back into the chaise, edging away from the dog.
I held back a grin. I was on the right track—I just hoped the rest of my theory held up. “Chaz hid the berries in the pocket of his tux. He then smeared the berries on his lips before saying his vows, and when he kissed Letty, he triggered her allergies. They were fast-acting, and she immediately began to suffer.”
Mrs. Harrington flipped her palms up. “This is preposterous! Why didn’t Letty just use her anti-allergy potion then?”
I gestured at Chaz. “Because, when they embraced and he delivered the fatal kiss, your son nabbed the life-saving syringe out of Letty’s wedding dress pocket.”
Mr. Harrington scoffed. “Surely someone would have noticed.”
I shook my head. “Everyone was watching the kiss. Besides, among all the poofy layers of her dress, it’d be easy to reach in and make it look like he was simply hugging her. Especially if it was in the pocket away from the watching crowd.”
Peter nodded. “That’s why, when we checked Letty’s pockets, the syringe was missing. Chaz likely wiped off the fingerprints, then threw it away.”
The maid sucked in a gasp. “And I found it later in the garbage!”
“As soon as her reaction began, Letty suspected Chaz, especially when she couldn’t find the syringe in her pocket—it’s why she ran from the altar. And with her throat closed up, she couldn’t speak.” I shook my head, heart heavy. “Even if she could, with her own groom trying to kill her, she likely didn’t know who she could trust. It’s why she locked herself in the bridal suite.”
Poor Letty—she’d been all alone.
The maid stepped forward. “But—but what happened to her other vial?”
I nodded. “The bat psychically told me she’d put it in a vanity drawer in the bridal suite—only it wasn’t there when she looked for it.”
Chaz snorted. “Oh, I suppose I stole that, too? How could I have? I was standing at the altar when Letty left the suite and was outside the whole time—I never went in there.”
I smirked. “You didn’t have to. After Letty ran from the altar, you dashed around the stone wall and stood outside the open window to the bridal suite. You took her only other chance at surviving with a simple summoning spell.”
I shook my head at him, anger tight in my chest. “You probably whisked it right out of her hand. And while everyone was distracted, you also magicked that plate of strawberries in through the window—making it look like she’d killed herself. Either that or, having witnessed what Rachel was up to the day before, you figured your old family friend would be blamed.”
I raised my brows. “It’s why you were found outside the window, under the pretense of yelling at Letty to unlock the door. Right?”
Chaz, pale and sweaty, shot a wide-eyed look at Daisy, who watched him with her pointy ears pricked.
The family lawyer jumped to his feet, pointing at Chaz. “You don’t have to answer that!” He swept his arm wildly. “This is all conjecture! You’ve got no proof.”
I shot Peter a worried look, but he gave me an encouraging nod. And right on time, echoey voices sounded from the entryway, followed by clipped footsteps, then a knock at the door. The cops stationed there let in the officers we’d left at Chaz’s penthouse. They carried his tux jacket and slacks, and the lady cop addressed Peter.
“Found ’em.”
Chaz let out a whimper.
The lady cop held up the slacks. “The right-hand pocket tested positive for strawberry residue.”
Peter beamed at me, and a proud tingle ran from my neck down my spine. I turned brightly to the lawyer. “Is that enough evidence for you? Between that and Daisy detecting his lies, I’d say this is a closed case.”
Peter stepped forward, and Daisy hugged close to his side. “Chaz Harrington, did you murder your wife, Letty Jones?”
Chaz, trembling and eyes blazing,
