I was surprised to hear more footsteps, the bleachers ringing with them, and glanced back. The entire row of royals tromped behind us, flanked by the guards with their enormous lances. When we reached the lawn, Madeline dashed off to find her photographer, and I joined Peter, McCray, and Bon in front of the tent. Again, I was surprised when the royal guards followed us, with Princess Imogen, lantern in hand, Prince Harry, Sam, and the rest of their friends.
The princess edged closer, rising on her toes to peer into the tent. “How did the woman die? Did she have any—”
“Oh, no!” Bon whirled on her, his face and large ears red. He shook a short finger at the princess. “Out! All of you, out!”
The princess glowered back at him and opened her mouth, but the woman who looked like a coordinator marched over, her dark eyes blazing. She held a clipboard under one arm and pressed a slender finger to the communication device in her ear. “Brady—no! I told you a baker has died, not that she’s making rye, and in any case, I’m not going to get you a sample of bread!”
Her eyes widened, and she huffed. “Okay, yes, that time I did say bread. But before, I said dead.” She plucked the device out of her ear and turned to the princess, speaking in a businesslike, clipped manner. “I insist you all leave immediately and return to the palace.” She glanced behind her at the tent and then shook her head, muttering to herself. “Honestly, my first event back in Bijou Mer and of course, someone dies.”
Bon threw his hands up, exasperated. “That’s what I’m saying.” He shook a finger at the princess again. “Death and trouble follow you everywhere.”
“Uh!” She planted her hands on her hips. “That’s not fair. We could be helpful here, and just because I may have stumbled upon a few crime scenes—”
Bon barked out a humorless laugh. “A few dozen, you mean?”
The princess’s little flame peeked out of his lantern. “Snakes, Imogen, it seems like Bon can count better than you.” He batted his big, innocent eyes. “But I thought you said he was a brainless fool who couldn’t solve a mystery if it—”
She snapped the shutter on the lantern shut, and muffled cackling came from inside it. The princess and the inspector, both red-faced, shot scathing looks at each other.
Prince Harry edged between them, spreading his palms. “Inspector, we’re just trying to be of service.” His deep voice was calm and confident. “Can you at least tell us—”
Bon, a good head shorter than the prince, stepped forward and stood chest to chest with him. “I’m not telling you anything, your highness.” His tone dripped with sarcasm.
A blinding flash of light made me jump. I turned and found Madeline grinning beside her photographer, who aimed his camera and snapped another picture, capturing Bon’s attempt at intimidating the prince. Bon turned and huffed, then backed up and fidgeted with the collar of his uniform.
The white-clad woman with the clipboard planted a hand on her hip. “Listen, for everyone’s safety it’s best we get back inside the palace.” She flashed her eyes at the princess, then looked at Sam Snakeman. Another young man had an arm around him, but Sam trembled, his shoulders up around his ears, chin nearly touching his chest.
“Do you think it’sss becaussse we’re sssupporting ssshifter rightsss?”
My stomach clenched. I hadn’t even thought of that. I glanced around at the stunned audience in the bleachers, the sobbing baker, and the other contestants clustered together in wide-eyed groups. It was entirely possible that someone was intent on disrupting an event intended to promote inclusivity and acceptance of shifters.
The princess blew out a shaky breath and nodded at the coordinator lady. “Sorry, Amelia, you’re right.” She rubbed Sam’s arm. “I’m sure it was just a terrible accident, but we should head to the palace just in case—for everyone’s safety.”
Bon curled his lip and muttered, “Everyone’s safety, plus my sanity.”
The princess shot one final glare at Bon, then turned with all her friends and stalked off toward the palace, flanked by guards. I watched them go for a few moments. I sure hoped Madeline was right and that I’d get another chance to talk to them about Ludolf.
Bon clapped his hands. “Alright, now that certain nuisances have been taken care of, let’s get to work, team.” He nodded at Peter. “You’re lead on this one, Flint.”
Peter’s lips twitched toward a grin, and he straightened and gave Bon a nod. “Yes, sir.”
A heavy hand came down on my shoulder, and I startled. McCray beamed at me. “Guess that means our resident pet psychic is on the case, too?”
I gulped and shrugged. “Looks like it.”
Peter nodded. “We’re not sure we have any animal witnesses yet, but Jolene’s abilities always come in handy.”
McCray squeezed my shoulder again, hard, then raised her fingers to her temples. “Hope the ether sends some helpful vibes.” She winked, and again I had that uneasy feeling that she was onto me.
“Heh, yeah.”
She and Bon moved off together, stopping to speak with another officer. Peter slid up beside me. “Did you get a chance to speak with the princess?”
I shook my head, and he pressed his lips tight together. “Hey—it’s alright. We’ll talk to them soon.”
I nodded, feeling better just being close to him. “Alright, so what’s next?”
He jerked his chin toward the baking station in the middle, near the crying woman. “Let’s have a look at the victim.”
A dead body—oh, goodie.
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