My chest heaved—both with exertion and fear. “Wait—is the mouse like your pet or something?”
“Why I—I don’t—” He got so flustered, he could hardly speak. “No—I just leave food out for it sometimes.” He dropped his eyes. “And I spelled the traps to smell bad so it wouldn’t go near them.”
He was protecting the mouse? I cracked a smile. Okay, that was pretty cute. My stomach twisted with another thought. Unless he was angry enough at Geoffrey and the director ordering him to kill it that he killed them instead.
I nodded and plastered on a placating smile. “I understand. The mouse is…” I looked down the hall—the mouse was nearly out of sight, was what it was. I gritted my teeth, annoyed that I was almost losing my chance. “It’s cute. I just need to see if it saw anything related to the murders—I’ll just read its mind. Won’t touch a hair on its furry little head.”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”
Well, that sounded ominous. Because you’re afraid of what I’ll discover? Did this freak really kill two people over a mouse?
I lifted my chin. “Why not?” My gaze drifted to the mouse, nearly at the end of the hall and the second entrance that led to the gift shop.
He leveled me a stern look. “I’m supposed to be rounding everyone up in the lobby for interviewing.”
I huffed, annoyed again at how seriously this guy took his job. “I’m with the police!” I flashed my eyes at him. “They know I’m out here looking for the mouse!” I shot an arm toward it.
He crossed his arms. “We’ll see about that.” He stepped toward me. “Now come with me.”
I let out an annoyed groan. “But it’s getting away.”
The mouse scampered into the open doors to the gift shop—dark and empty without Mrs. Abernathy there to work checkout.
Maverick held an arm out to guide me back the way I’d just come. I eyed the key ring hanging from his belt and the wand tucked in on the other side.
I bit my lip and in a split second made up my mind. I turned like I was going to go with him, then spun back around and sprinted past him toward the mouse, nabbing his key ring as I passed him.
“Hey!”
I didn’t turn around, even when a spell whizzed past my left ear, stinging it with heat. I just lowered my head and charged forward, keys jingling in my hand.
I dashed inside the gift shop and whirled around. Maverick limped toward me, wand in hand, firing spells. I was torn between fear—was he trying to kill me?—and annoyance—did he care this much about following the letter of the law?
I grabbed the double doors and yanked them shut, then fumbled with the ring of keys. I tried three different ones in the lock, Maverick’s shadow getting closer and closer behind the frosted panes before I found the right one. The lock turned with a click, and a shimmery magical seal flashed over the doors.
Moments later, the security guard’s shadow loomed just on the other side and the doors rattled. I stumbled back a few steps and almost knocked over a display of keychains. I grabbed it and righted it—who was I? Bon?
Maverick continued to rattle the doors, his muffled shouts coming through. “Open up! Miss, you are in a heap of trouble!” He shook the doors one more time. “I’m coming back with reinforcements and then you’ll be sorry!”
My chest heaved and my throat burned. I could only assume he meant police officers, which I’d welcome. His shadow faded.
I hustled to the other double doors that opened from the lobby and tried them just in case he was messing with me and meant to come in that way—they were already locked. I then spun, ready to dash to the checkout counter in the back. I’d spotted that mouse hole there and planned to head the mouse off if I could.
But when I turned around, a dark figure loomed before me. “Gah!” I jumped.
Mrs. Abernathy stood in the middle of the store facing me, a dark smile on her wrinkled face.
27
FINAL CONFRONTATION
I froze, heart pounding in my chest. Mrs. Abernathy watched me, a bizarre smile on her face. The dark displays of kids’ toys and replicas of cursed objects surrounded us.
The only light filtered in from outside the frosted glass doors. I gulped and fingered the key ring in my hand. The doors I’d just locked—we were trapped in here together.
I cleared my throat. “How’d you get in here?” I looked around. And where had the mouse gone?
Mrs. Abernathy barked out a laugh. “You dolt! I’m the mouse. I’m a shifter.” She flashed her eyes at me. “Like you.”
Come again? I held very still. “How’d you know?”
She snorted and gathered the neck of her cardigan tight. “Pet psychic? Please. Who do you think you’re fooling? I saw you talking to that dog.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Is that what kind of shifter you are? Dog?”
I didn’t answer her. I’d always thought I’d been so careful. But since telling Peter the truth about being able to speak with animals, I had been less vigilant.
I looked the older woman up and down. “You’re the mouse. That’s why you never fell for the traps—that and the security guard’s fondness for you.”
Mrs. Abernathy smirked, her eyes glinting with a dark light. “Yes.”
A heaviness settled on my chest as the pieces began to fall into place. “As a mouse you’re able to move about the museum unnoticed. You could’ve gotten in and
