Will huffed. “Yeah, adorable.”
Peter nodded. “We need hard proof—transforming one of them back and getting their statement would do the trick.”
I shrugged. “Well, I know Ludolf has records of all the potions he’s used on them, but personally, I’m not up for trying to steal them back again.”
Peter hugged me closer to him, his breath coming quicker. He’d been more upset than I was when I’d told him about what happened.
I licked my lips. “Look, I’ve been thinking. Even if we could get hard evidence against Ludolf, who’s to say we don’t get buried by one of his powerful cronies? A judge or a politician just makes all this go away for him?”
Will pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t like where you’re going with this, Jolene.”
A bat winged overhead, and a gazelle bounced by behind the couch. Thank the goddess we’d cast a silencing spell around my apartment. Between the sounds of hooves, the shrieking of the monkeys, and the lion’s roar—who was now snoozing on my bed in the other room—I was sure my landlady, affectionately known around town as “the dragon,” would have evicted me already.
I nodded to myself. “The animal rights activists mentioned that Sam Snakeman would be speaking about shifter rights at the palace next week. He’s got connections to Prince Harry and Princess Imogen and”—I shook my head—“and I think we could trust them.”
Peter gave me a serious look. “What do you propose?”
I bit my thumb. “We still want to keep this quiet, but I suggest we let Madeline L’Orange in on the secret—she’ll find out on her own soon anyway. She has connections to Sam and the others. I say we have her make an introduction, quietly, and we ask them for help prosecuting Ludolf.” I shrugged. “Maybe they have resources we don’t—someone who can help cure these guys.”
I gestured at the menagerie of animals stampeding around my apartment. The bat grabbed hold of the light above my kitchen table and hung upside down, swinging with it. The panther leapt after it and slammed into the wall, knocking a piece of plaster loose.
She let out a yowl. Sorry. Animal instincts.
Heidi winced.
I was definitely not getting my deposit back.
Peter nodded, finally. “I think that’s a good idea. We could use some allies—powerful ones.”
Will rolled a thick wrist. “And we know Sam didn’t grow up in shifter culture, so he probably hasn’t been bought by Ludolf yet.” He huffed. “Probably.”
Always the optimist.
I nodded. “So that’s the plan?”
We all agreed, and I went back to eating pizza, my stomach a bundle of nerves and excitement. A couple of nights ago, I’d come as close as I ever had to dying. I knew I was on a short leash with Ludolf, and I could feel this all coming to a head. Soon, this would all be over, and either we’d finally get to see Ludolf behind bars and his mob reign over the shifters ended—or, I’d disappear, another name in his cabinet of failed experiments.
Thank you for reading The Squawking Dead. I hope you enjoyed it!
The next book in the Magic Market Mysteries is Book 8: Can Jolene cure the trapped shifters, defeat Ludolf and solve the mystery of a murdered baker? She’ll need the help of hunky cop Peter and sassy Daisy…along with a few new friends. Don’t miss the charming conclusion to the Magic Market series, featuring a crossover with Imogen, Iggy and the gang from the Spells & Caramels series.
Read The Big Fang Theory to solve a murder myssstery today!
THE BIG FANG THEORYis available on Amazon in ebook, paperback and audiobook: Click Here.
CLICK HERE to get your FREE copy of Saved by the Spell and check out rookie officer Peter Flint’s first case with Daisy. Saved by the Spell is the prequel to the Magic Market paranormal cozy mystery series: https://dl.bookfunnel.com/39ltzc764w
KEEP READING for a sneak peek at the next book, The Big Fang Theory!
THE COMPETITION
I groaned and thunked my head against my boyfriend, Peter’s, back. It was the only thing keeping me from collapsing from exhaustion.
His body rumbled with a deep chuckle. “You okay back there?”
“Oh. Just dandy.” My voice came out muffled as I buried my face in his uniform jacket. Even the quad shot of espresso in my Americano couldn’t make up for my lack of sleep. I gripped the half empty cup and took a deep whiff. Coffee, give me strength.
I’d been up all night, which wasn’t out of the ordinary for me, given I was a night owl—literally, since I was an owl shifter. The difference was that I’d actually tried to sleep, in anticipation of attending the royal baking competition this morning.
Adding insult to injury, Peter had snored happily beside me all night. Normally, I found my cop boyfriend a delightful mix of boyish good looks and innocence wrapped up in a sexy, broad-shouldered package. But that peaceful face, blissfully snoozing beside me while I’d struggled to get comfortable, much less sleep, had left me outraged. I’d tossed and turned and eventually taken to pacing around the apartment, huffing.
I groaned. “Who has a baking competition in the middle of the day, anyway?” I lifted my aching head and glared up at the bright sun. It peeked through the chilly gray haze that still hung low over the island and the sea.
Peter chuckled again. “Bakers are known for their early hours.”
I curled my lip and crossed my arms. “Well, it’s a crabby policy.”
Daisy, Peter’s German shepherd police partner, turned to look at me and bared her pointy, white teeth. Her normally shiny, tawny-and-black fur was matted in places, ruffled in others. She growled at me. You kept me up. Her growl deepened, menacing. All night.
A few people walked past us toward the bleachers and gave us a wide berth.
I waited till they were out of earshot, then arched a brow and woofed back at Daisy.
Do you know how many times you’ve woken me up, whining and twitching and doing this
