dripping fangs. Not my choice in artwork though. I typically liked to decorate with fewer spiders.

Quincy withdrew his wand from his pocket and pointed it at the dial of the safe. It spun to the right and stopped, then spun left and stopped.

Peter, leaning against the peacock wallpaper, watched Quincy. “Besides you, was anyone else in the office today?”

Quincy’s brow furrowed in concentration as he worked the safe’s lock. I grinned to myself—part of me was surprised Malorie had given him the combination.

“Malorie was. The sanctuary wasn’t open today, in preparation for the party, but Mark, our veterinarian, was still working, so he likely was in here, as well.” The combination clicked into place for the final time, a bolt slid inside the safe with a thunk, and the door swung open.

Russo, Peter, Quincy, and I leaned our heads in to peek inside. Daisy stood at our feet and whined, tapping her feet impatiently. What’s in there?

Russo reached in with a gloved hand and withdrew a leather bag full of gold merkles and a short stack of handwritten receipts.

Quincy pointed as the cop set them on the desk behind us. “Those are likely from this week’s revenue. Malorie must’ve been too busy with the party to deposit them.”

The only other item inside the smallish safe was a photograph. Russo drew it out and held it up for all of us to see. Quincy shrank back.

The magically moving picture showed a big group of people, hundreds of them, in glittering dresses and dapper tuxedos. They smiled at the camera from in front of a bunch of lush foliage and a banner that read The Night of the Phoenix.

I reached out and tapped a blond young woman in the front. “Is that Malorie?”

Quincy nodded.

Wow. She had to have been in her early twenties then. I peered closer. Though she had a big smile plastered on her face, her eyes looked tight, worried.

Peter spun to face Quincy, who edged away from us and the picture. “Was this taken at the last party for the phoenix’s rebirth?”

Quincy nodded again. Without looking, he snatched up a feathered quill from the desk and fiddled with it.

“So this must’ve been taken fifty years ago?” When Quincy nodded confirmation, Peter gently took the photograph from Russo and looked it over more closely.

I frowned. “Why was that in there? You said the safe was for valuables.”

Quincy backed up and tugged at the stiff collar of his shirt, his face flushed red. “I, uh—Libbie, our former head zookeeper, was going through an old box of memorabilia and noticed it.” His small eyes darted to Daisy, who watched him with her head cocked. “Libbie, uh, thought Malorie might enjoy seeing it, and, uh, apparently my wife thought it important enough to put in the safe.”

Daisy huffed. Mostly true…

I narrowed my eyes. Mostly, huh? What was Quincy hiding?

Peter handed the photo with its slightly crumpled edges back to Russo. “Add this to evidence, please?”

The rookie cop grinned. “You got it, Flint.”

The blond cop came around the side of the desk with an open planner in her hands. “You might want to see this.”

She held it up for Peter to see and pointed at the square for tomorrow’s date. I leaned closer and read over his shoulder.

10AM— 15 avenue Honore, 2nd tier

Peter beckoned Quincy closer and pointed at the calendar. “Do you know what this appointment is for?”

He paled and shook his head. “That’s my wife’s planner. I—I don’t know.”

Daisy let out a quiet growl. Partial truth.

Peter nodded and handed the planner back to the blond cop. “Bag this up and have someone check into this address.”

She nodded and moved off to bag more evidence. Peter nodded at Russo, who came around and rejoined Quincy, before pulling me aside.

“This Libbie Brown gal has come up a few times, plus we caught her stealing a wombat.”

I smirked. “And we all know you can’t trust a wombat thief.”

Peter grinned. “I think we should go have some words with her. A couple cops still have her detained near the wall on the estate’s border where we caught her.”

“Ooh. You didn’t even let her come in to the party?” I sucked in some air. “Harsh, Officer Flint.”

We headed out of the sanctuary’s office with Daisy beside us.

He leaned close so that his warm breath tickled my neck and lowered his voice. “I can be pretty tough. Don’t make me use my handcuffs.”

I let my jaw drop and sucked in a mock gasp.

His eyes widened, and he waved his hands as a deep flush spread up his neck. “Sorry. I was just kidding. I was trying to be saucy, and it just came out wrong, but I would never—”

I chuckled, and his shoulders slumped. “You were kidding.”

“Duh.” I winked. “Careful. I might enjoy it if you busted out those restraints.”

He stopped dead for a beat before catching back up with me and Daisy, his whole face red. Sands, I really enjoyed teasing this man. I slipped my hand into his and grinned up at him. He rolled his eyes but smiled back and nudged me with his shoulder. Working cases wasn’t so bad when you got to do it holding hands with your boyfriend.

13

STOLEN WOMBAT

Peter, Daisy, and I threaded our way across the swaying drawbridge path, past enclosures with enormous ferns, suspended bubbles of water, and even what appeared to be a miniature volcano. Odd hoots and animal calls followed us, and I frowned at not being able to make out what they were saying. Were these creatures so rare my abilities didn’t extend to them, or were my powers on the fritz?

We soon exited the enclosed part of the sanctuary and headed outside. We left the giant stone mansion behind us and trekked through thrashing grasses down a narrow gravel path. Wispy clouds blew quickly across the half moon, and bats squeaked as they dove overhead.

I wrapped my arms around myself and rubbed. Peter glanced over and noticed my shivers. He withdrew

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