The other woman looked to be about fifty years old judging by her long, dark gray hair and the lines around her eyes. She was dressed in bell bottoms, a fringed leather vest, and a shirt with wide lapels. She looked like she was straight out of the 70’s. Had she thought this was a costume party, or just gotten the theme wrong?
The thin man turned and looked over his shoulder in my direction, toward the rest of the guests. “Is there a doctor?!”
A door in the back of the enclosure that had been camouflaged as part of the rock wall burst open. A dark-skinned man in a white lab coat dashed inside, a cigarette hanging from his lips. “What the— Let me see her.”
Malorie’s husband shook his head. “A human doctor! You’re a veterinarian, Mark!”
The vet rushed forward and dropped to his knees. “Better than nothing. Let me see her.”
Malorie’s husband moved to the side as the vet took the blond’s face in his hands. I glanced toward the other woman. Was no one going to help her?
Mark, the vet, gently felt around the blond’s throat, then rolled her onto her side and jerked back. He shook his head and slumped back. His chest heaved as he stared at the blond. “By the waves.”
I gasped as I spotted what he’d found. A feathered dart stuck out of the back of her neck.
Mark’s dark eyes shifted to Malorie’s husband. “She’s dead, Quincy.”
Quincy whimpered and covered his mouth, his eyes glued to his wife’s body.
The vet shook himself, then crawled over to the other woman and checked for her pulse at her neck and the inside of her wrist. He shook his head. “Dead, too.” He looked at the pale Quincy. “Where’s the phoenix?”
Quincy let out a gasping sob, scrambled to his feet, and then dashed out the back door of the enclosure that Mark had entered through. The vet stayed slumped on the ground beside the two dead women, and all the guests around me continued to stampede toward the exits. I let out a shaky sigh.
We had two dead women, a missing phoenix, hundreds of panicked potential witnesses and suspects, and a sanctuary full of animals I’d probably need to speak with. This was going to be a long night.
BLOWING SMOKE
Hundreds of shaken guests trickled back into the ballroom after fleeing, clutching their pearls (some literally), and I had no doubt my cop beau had corralled them.
I sucked in a grateful breath when I spotted Peter enter at the top of the steps, flanked by his German shepherd partner, Daisy, and his boss, Inspector Bon. I waved, trying to catch Peter’s eye. Bon, scanning the room, spotted me.
His scowl deepened, his heavy brows burying his eyes in shadow. I rolled my own eyes back at him. It’s how we played. He elbowed Peter, jerked his chin in my direction, and then went back to glowering at everyone.
Unlike his surly boss, Peter’s boyishly handsome face lit up when he spotted me, and I couldn’t help but flash him a bright smile. Despite the two dead ladies in the enclosure directly behind me, happy tingles danced up and down my spine, and my head felt a little light. That could’ve been from the champagne flutes I’d been sneaking off trays all night, but I knew, at least in part, that it was for my handsome cop boyfriend.
Peter spoke with a few other officers before jogging down the marble steps, Daisy trotting at his side. He made his way through the murmuring crowd over to me.
He clicked his tongue as he neared. “I leave you alone for a couple hours, and now we’ve got a double homicide?”
I narrowed my eyes and shot him a saucy look that was ruined by my grin. Since we’d started dating several weeks ago, we’d basically spent 24/7 together, and my cheeks had started hurting on the regular from smiling so much. This guy was turning me soft.
“Careful how you speak to me.” I tapped his chest. His hard, muscled chest. Focus, Jolene. I shook myself and went back to being sassy. “This is an animal sanctuary—who knows how many animal witnesses we have, and I’m the only pet psychic in town.”
Well, I could speak with animals, but pet psychic was my cover so people wouldn’t know I was a shifter and shun me. Thankfully, I’d already confessed all this to Peter, and we’d gotten over his initial trust issues.
His misgivings had more to do with me having lied to him for months, than with me being a shifter. But Peter was one of the good ones. Plenty of magical folk on Bijou Mer discriminated, hard, against you if they caught even a whiff of being able to shift.
Peter’s deep blue eyes twinkled. “Only pet psychic in town, you say?” He let out a low whistle. “Guess I’d better hire you on as a consultant right away then.”
I raised my brows and nodded. “I warn you though, I charge a steep rate.”
He blinked, surprised. “Oh?”
I stepped closer and grabbed the lapels of his uniform jacket. “Mm-hmm. We might be able to work out a special discount.” I gave him an exaggerated wink.
A deep pink flush spread up his neck and into his cheeks.
I rose on my toes, and he leaned down to meet me. I put my lips close to his ear, and his breath quickened.
I whispered, “I accept bonus payment in the form of ramen, stir-fry, and cups of coffee.”
I sank back down onto my heels, and he grinned, then shot me a flat look. “Fine, but this is going to be coming out of your petty cash allowance, and let me tell you, the precinct is not generous.”
I chuckled and slugged his arm. “Alright, enough flirting.” I jerked my head toward the enclosure behind me. “Dead bodies to deal with and all that.”
He shook his head, still grinning, but gave my hand a squeeze and walked with me over to the
