The woman still looked thoroughly put out as we approached. Peter led the way. “Mr. and Mrs. Harrington?”
The blond narrowed her eyes, and her gaze slid over us quickly before lingering on a spot just beyond my shoulder. Wow. Dismissed, apparently. My initial dislike deepened, and I crossed my fingers in my pocket. Come on—be the murderer!
The man was handsome for his age, his silvery hair slicked back and his black tux perfectly tailored. “Yes. How can we help you, Officer—” His eyes scanned the gold badge on Peter’s jacket. “—Flint?” He had a deep voice and spoke with an aristocratic drawl.
Peter cleared his throat, and a quill and scroll for taking notes magically appeared next to his head. “I’d like to ask you some questions, if that’s alright?”
Mr. Harrington’s mouth stayed a grim, flat line. I doubted the man ever smiled. “Of course.”
Mrs. Harrington huffed and shifted on her feet, clearly annoyed. I’d bet she was annoyed often. Her long blond hair was pulled half back in a bun, revealing enormous glittering ruby earrings. She played with the long ends that fell over her shoulder and looked off into the night. I fought a grin as I took in her outfit. Someone clearly considered herself a fashionista.
She’d ditched the traditionally demure mother of the groom dress for a silver, long-sleeved jumpsuit with a huge black collar and bowtie. I had to admit she was pulling it off, but she’d look more at home during fashion week than at her son’s wedding.
Peter shifted on his feet, his feathered quill perched and ready to take notes. “Were you two aware of Letty’s strawberry allergy?”
Mrs. Harrington rolled her eyes. “Oh, yes. How could we not be? It’s like the girl thought it made her special or something, went on about it incessantly.”
Her husband shot her a look, then addressed Peter. “We were aware and did our best to accommodate her.”
His wife huffed. “Our housekeeper, the maids, and the caterers were well warned of it. Especially after the incident.”
Mr. Harrington winced and looked away.
Peter cocked his head. “Incident?”
Mrs. Harrington pursed her magically enhanced lips. “At the first family dinner with Letty, when Chaz introduced her to us, our housekeeper accidentally served something with strawberries.” She smirked and leaned closer. “It was so horrendous—she got all red and blotchy and wheezy—” She scoffed and glanced back at her husband. “Kill me if I ever look that bad!”
His cheeks flushed red, and he flashed his eyes at her.
She turned back to us and pressed perfectly manicured fingertips to her lips. “Oops. Maybe not the best turn of phrase.”
I gaped. Snakes. With in-laws like that, who needs enemies?
SNEEZY
Peter shook his head. “Wait. Can you go back? What happened that night, exactly? When Letty had an allergic reaction?”
Mr. Harrington stepped in. “Her throat swelled. It was hard for her to swallow.”
“And then what?”
He lifted a palm. “Thank the goddess, the girl had an anti-allergy potion on her.”
Mrs. Harrington folded her arms. “Chaz told us afterward that she always carries it.” She looked skyward. “She even insisted on wearing a wedding dress with pockets to have it handy during the wedding.” She sniffed. “Can you imagine? How uncouth.”
Peter and I exchanged confused looks. “Wait—she had an anti-allergy potion on her?” Peter looked between the two of them. “Then why didn’t she take it?”
The blond, with her chiseled cheekbones, shot Peter a cool look. “Who knows? Maybe she forgot it.”
Peter turned toward me and dipped his lips close to my ear. I tried to ignore the happy shiver that ran down my spine. “Maybe that’s why she rushed back to the bridal suite, to look for her potion.”
I nodded, eyes narrowed. “But why didn’t she have the potion on her, when she got her wedding dress expressly for that reason?” I pulled my lips to the side. “And why didn’t anyone help her? Why did she lock herself in that room, alone?”
The crease between Peter’s brow deepened. “No potion was found on her body or in the room.”
I shrugged. “Yet. Maybe it’ll turn up.”
He nodded and turned back to the Harringtons. “That night of the family dinner, when you first met Letty—after she took the potion, what happened?”
Mrs. Harrington rolled a slender wrist. “She lay down on the chaise, and twenty minutes later she was good as new.” She sniffed and examined her nails. “And we were finally able to serve dessert.”
I ran my tongue over my teeth as I shot daggers at this woman with my eyes. “Wow, so caring. So I take it you two weren’t big fans of Letty’s?”
Mr. Harrington stretched his neck and rolled his shoulders. “Let’s just say… she wasn’t what I expected Chaz to choose.” He raised his pointed brows.
His wife let out a humorless laugh. “That’s an understatement. She was a nice enough girl, but when he’s surrounded by plenty of eligible, wealthy, lovely girls—” She made a face. “—why choose the wallflower from the night market?”
I mean, on one hand, I agreed with them. I had a hard time seeing a rich politician choosing a girl like Letty purely out of love, but weirder things had happened, right? Still—her jab at the Darkmoon was one insult too many. I huffed, annoyed to my breaking point.
“Did you kill Letty?”
Peter shot me a look, but I held my ground, staring them down.
The blond pressed her hand to her chest. “Goodness, no!”
Her husband shook his head. “No, indeed.”
Peter and I looked at Daisy.
The German shepherd, who stood on Peter’s other side, bared her teeth and growled. Liar!
I turned to Mrs. Harrington, a triumphant smile on my face. Gotcha!
The dog’s snarl cut off abruptly as she sneezed, then again and again. I flashed my eyes at her—get it together, Daisy!
She finally stopped and blinked her red, watery eyes. She sniffled, then her black, wet nose twitched, and she whined. Or… truth? She sneezed again, and her ears flattened. I
