Tears tracked down Millie’s flushed cheeks.
“Why didn’t you just tell us all this yesterday?” Peter tilted his head as he studied her.
“My and Turk’s anniversary is coming up.” She sniffed. The wall of wedding photos over her head made it evident that this was an important day to at least one of them—the one who did the decorating.
“Things have gotten—stale.” She choked on a sob. “I though this might add a little spark.” Her voice grew so small, I had to lean forward to hear her. She let out a wail, then burst into tears.
Peter and I exchanged alarmed looks. He fished around in his uniform’s breast pocket, pulled out a white kerchief, then handed it to Millie.
I lifted a brow. A kerchief? Really? Who was this guy? Had he walked straight out of an 1800s guide to being a gentleman?
She took it and buried her scrunched-up face in it. Her shoulders shook with her sobs.
I gave her a few moments, then cleared my throat. “Why are you crying, Millie?”
She lifted her pained face from the kerchief and gulped in a trembling breath. “Bim caught Zo and Turk together one night, after work.” Her cheeks glistened wet with tears. “She told me—because we’re friends. And now Bim’s dead, and I wish she was still here!” She buried her face again and wailed.
Daisy’s tail wagged. She’s still telling the truth.
Millie shook her head and sniffled. “I didn’t have the heart to give Turk the photos after that—but I didn’t know what to do with them, so…” She gave a jerky shrug. “I just… hid them.”
Peter nodded, expression thoughtful. “Was your husband or Zozanna aware that Bim knew about their affair?”
Millie dabbed at her eyes. “I’m not sure. Bim didn’t think they’d noticed her when she walked in on them but… who knows?”
Peter shifted and leveled Millie a serious look. “You’re positive your husband was home the whole night of the murder?”
Millie lifted her chin. “Yes, I’m sure.”
Daisy whined. Truth.
Peter gave another thoughtful nod, his gaze far away. “Thank you for your time. We’ll be in touch.” We both stood.
Millie sniffled, then glanced down at the kerchief in her hand. “Oh!” She jumped to her feet and tried to hand it back to him.
He gave her a kind, tight-lipped smile. “Go ahead and keep it—I’ve got plenty.”
“Oh.” Millie’s chin quivered. “Thank you.”
Peter, Daisy, and I paused in the street just outside the fence after Millie closed the door behind us.
I swirled my cup, then tipped my head back and polished off the last of my coffee. I let out a sigh—I felt better now that I had caffeine surging through my veins.
“Zo or Turk could have had a motive for killing Bim. If they knew she’d discovered their affair, they might have killed her to keep it quiet.”
That little crease appeared between Peter’s brows again. “And if Millie is sure that Turk was home all night, that just leaves Zozanna as a suspect.”
I grinned. “Let’s go pay the secretary a visit?”
Peter nodded, an eager glint in his eye.
28
THE SECRETARY
Peter called back to the station using the magical gumball-sized device in his ear and got Zozanna’s home address. We followed the glowing blue locator spell through the warren that was the Darkmoon District until we stopped outside a run-down brick duplex.
He pointed at the right side. “2432B—that’s hers.”
Uneven stone steps led up to a door with a half moon cutout. Though a huge crack snaked across the front window, a flower box with bright yellow roses underneath and a sisal doormat lent the place a bit of charm.
I lifted a brow. It was more than I’d done to spruce up my own apartment. Though that beaded curtain was pretty sweet, as far as I was concerned.
I followed Peter and Daisy up the stairs, then crowded close to Peter on the landing. He knocked and we waited. Nothing, and no one, stirred inside.
Peter knocked again. “Zozanna? It’s Officer Flint from the other night. I’d like to have a word.”
Daisy’s ears pricked up. She lowered her dark snout and intensely sniffed the crack under the door. She let out a low woof. Something doesn’t smell right.
I rolled my eyes. “The police dog thinks something smells fishy? Try to be less clichéd, ’kay, Daisy?”
She turned and growled at me.
Peter knocked again. “Everything alright inside?”
Still, there was no answer. He glanced down at Daisy, then at me. “We need to get a permit to enter her home without permission… unless we have reason to believe there’s an emergency.” He lifted his brows. “What are you getting from Daisy?”
Uh… besides a whole lot of sass? I shook myself—right. Whole reason I was here. I pressed my fingertips to my temples, and scrunched up my eyes as I pretended to get a psychic download. “Hmm… yes, I see.” I peeled an eye open to look at the dog.
She tilted her head and growled. What?
“My goodness.” I made my eyes round. “She thinks we better kick that door down and get in there.” I shrugged at Peter.
Daisy growled again. What are you telling him?
Peter drew his wand and concentrated on the door. I leaned behind his back and made quiet dog noises at Daisy. That you’re dying to get a bath and need your anal glands expressed.
Daisy’s dark eyes widened and her hackles rose. She leapt to her feet, barking. You’re a liar! Nothing but a shady, shifty shifter! Stay away from Peter or I’ll—
A flash shot from Peter’s wand and the door flew open, banging against the wall behind it. He turned to his barking dog and huffed. “Daisy! What’s gotten into you?”
Her ears flattened, and I smirked at her behind his back. “I’d have expected a police dog to be more well-behaved.”
Peter shook his head as he led the way inside. “Sorry
