“Those are best sellers?” Erp. I plastered on an apologetic smile. “Sorry, no offense. It just looks pretty….” I rolled a wrist as I searched for the most polite term.
“Cheap? Garish?” Kalia snorted. “Certainly not my style, so none taken.”
I frowned as I scanned the few artisan objects carefully displayed on the shelves and the clean desktop. It didn’t seem like it was Geoffrey’s style either. I looked back to Kalia. “Do you know why Geoffrey had this in his office?”
She shrugged.
“Do you know if anything was taken?” Peter asked.
The curator shook her head. “Not that I can tell. He always kept it this clean and tidy.”
I moved around the side of the desk and looked around. The shelves were free of dust, so it was impossible to tell if the figurine had sat there or if perhaps the killer had brought it in with them. Same with the desktop. I scanned the floor and spotted a mousetrap with a hunk of cheese in the corner next to a hole in the floorboards. I grinned—score!
I pointed to it. “Peter!”
Daisy looked my way and huffed. Don’t get so excited over a hunk of cheese, it makes you look pathetic.
I rolled my eyes at her. I wasn’t going to eat it.
He looked up from crouching over the body, one hand holding the tarp up, the other shining a light on the victim below with his wand. Kalia stood with her arms crossed, leaning against the door, while the other two officers looked on over Peter’s shoulder. I caught a brief glimpse of dried red blood, gray skin, and matted hair.
The room tilted a little, and I looked quickly away, gripping the desk for balance. Whoa—steady, girl.
“You okay?” Peter rose and padded across the rug until he stood at my shoulder. I glanced up at him and pressed a hand to my stomach. “Dead bodies don’t typically agree with me.”
He raised a brow. “You eat many?”
I frowned, puzzled over his words for a moment, then grinned and slugged his arm. “Look at you, Officer Jokester. But no—look.”
“Oh.” Peter shifted on his feet. “Mousetrap.”
I nodded. “Which means there’s a mouse problem, which means…”
Peter grinned down at me. “Possible animal witness.”
I winked. “Exactly.”
He bumped me with his shoulder. “I knew I brought you along for a reason.”
“Besides the good company?” I batted my lashes.
His cheeks flushed and he grinned at me. “Besides that.”
Kalia let out a heavy sigh, and we both jumped and turned toward her. I grimaced and Peter rubbed the back of his neck. Yeah, we might have been laying on the flirting a little thick there.
She shook her head. “Yes, we’re dealing with a mouse problem.”
Oh. That was what she was annoyed about.
“Maverick, our security guard, is in charge of handling it.” She rolled her eyes and shrugged her crossed arms. “He’s supposed to be, at least. It’s been going on for way too long at this point.”
Peter glanced at the mouse trap, then back at Kalia. “And he’s the one who found the victim?”
She nodded.
“I’d like to have a word with your security officer.”
MAVERICK
Kalia stopped in front of the door labeled Security and knocked a few times, then stepped aside.
A moment later the door flew open and a tall, older man who looked to be in his seventies filled the doorway. His pale eyes glared at each of us until his gaze landed on Peter’s uniform and he straightened, shoulders squared, and saluted. “Officer.” A deep, puckered scar ran down his left cheek.
Peter shot a confused look at Kalia, who pinched the bridge of her nose, then looked back at the guard.
“Uh… hello. Yes, I’m Officer Flint, my partner Daisy, and associate Ms. Hartgrave.”
The guard took us each in—his gaze more attentive and less murdery—and nodded his greetings.
“Maverick, they’d like to ask you a few questions. I’m sure you’ll do your best to be helpful?”
The grizzled guard inclined his gray head at the curator, his black beret staying perfectly in place.
“Great.” Kalia turned to us. “I’ve got to speak with the board of directors. I’ll be in my office, just down the hall from Geoffrey’s, if you need me.”
“Thank you for your help.”
The curator bowed her scarfed head, then hurried off.
Maverick stood aside and ushered us into his office. The heavy metal door swung shut behind us with a loud clank that made me jump.
The place was about the size of a large closet, windowless and dark. Maverick limped forward and threw himself down in the only chair. He laced his fingers together. “What can I do for you, Officer?” He wore a black tie and white button-up with patches on his shoulders that read Security. He crossed one ankle over a knee, his black dress shoes impeccably shiny.
A wraparound desk took up most of the room. Dozens of buttons covered metal boards, some glowing, other flashing—all different colors. Glowing swirls of magic illuminated a crystal ball on the desk in front of the guard.
He followed my gaze. “Ah. You like my setup? Rigged it up myself.” He gave a self-satisfied sniff.
“It’s uh—something.” Peter rubbed the back of his neck. “What does it all do?”
Maverick swiveled in his chair to face the glowing control panel of buttons and knobs. “Various things. My proudest accomplishment, though, is the crystal ball.”
I grinned and leaned a hip against the desk. “Sweet. I’ve got one of those.” I mostly used it as a paperweight though since the whole pet “psychic” thing was a false front. “You a seer?”
The guard scoffed. “Hardly. Nah, picked up some skills from a guy I served with from the Air Kingdom. Handy with magical technology.” He pointed at the glowing glass orb. “I’ve positioned other enchanted crystals around the museum—a little network. I can view those areas from here.” He touched the crystal ball.
Peter edged closer, watching over Maverick’s shoulder, while Daisy sniffed around the guard’s feet.
“Are you able to look at Geoffrey’s office?”
The guard kept his finger on the crystal ball. The bristles of his gray beard rustled
