Pet Psychic Mysteries Boxset Books 5-8 (Magic Market Mysteries Book 2) Erin Johnson (good books for 8th graders .txt) 📖

Quincy scoffed. “I—I don’t know…. It wasn’t my business to handle.”

I rolled my eyes. “Let me guess— Malorie handled it?”

Quincy lifted his weak chin. “Actually, I believe Libbie did for a while, until she left us.”

Peter and I exchanged looks. We’d be paying Libbie a visit soon, I had no doubt. I turned back to Quincy, adrenaline making my hands and voice shake. “Did you know that all your animals are shifters trapped in animal form?”

“What? What are you talking about?”

Daisy growled, and I grinned. “You’re lying.”

Quincy bristled. “These are outrageous claims!”

Oh. I’d show him outrageous. I balled my trembling hands into fists, ready to attack, but Peter clamped a warm hand down on my shoulder and pulled me toward him. I spun to face him.

“Come on, Jolene. We need to leave this for now.”

“What the shell?” I scoffed. “We have to shut this down and free those people!” I threw an arm toward the jungle-like enclosure.

Peter’s blue eyes bored into mine, his brow pinched, expression pained. “I know. And we will. But we need proof.”

I gawked at him. “Uh, the sloth told me it’s a shifter!” I threw an arm toward the German shepherd. “Daisy will back me up.”

Peter sighed. “No offense, but there’s still a lot of skepticism about a pet psychic and a dog who can supposedly smell lies.” He shook his head. “You two are invaluable for getting to the root of things, but we always have to find that concrete proof or get a confession. I’m sorry.” He squeezed my shoulder. “Let’s go talk to Libbie Brown and see if we can find out more about where these an—I mean, shifters came from.”

I set my jaw, shot one more fiery glare at Quincy, then turned back to Peter and nodded. I’d meant what I’d said to the sloth—there was no way I was letting these people rot in here. One way or another, I was going to see justice for these fellow shifters.

29

Photo Finish

After a call to Edna up at the station, Peter, Daisy and I trekked all the way back down the mountain to a run-down apartment building just a few blocks over from my place. The sky was lightening with the first faint rays of dawn peeking through the thick clouds and mist that hung over the sea. The chill in the air and the walk helped calm my nerves down a bit, but every time I thought of those dozens, maybe hundreds, of shifters trapped in cages, I could feel the heat of anger flare up in my chest again.

Peter knocked on Libbie’s door, the faded green paint peeling. The hallway was open to the elements, and rain fell behind us in a steady curtain. The open railing looked out over a central courtyard with a green fountain and pots full of dead plants. The door opened a crack, and Libbie peeked out at us. “Officer.”

“We’d like to come in and have a few words with you, if that’s alright, Ms. Brown?”

She glared at us. “Is this about Cassie? ’Cause no take backs.”

I planted a hand on my hip. “Not sure the law works like that, but no, that’s not why we’re here.”

“Fine.” She grumbled to herself but unlatched the chain and held the door for us as we entered. She hugged Cassie, the wombat, to her with one arm, resting the animal on her hip like a large baby. I nodded my hello at it and settled beside Peter on the shabby couch. Not that I was judging—mine was way shabbier. And not in the chic way.

The apartment was small and dark, with a short hallway leading to a couple more rooms with closed doors. Libbie grabbed a wooden chair from the dinette table in the kitchen and dragged it over in front of the couch. She sat down and cradled her wombat in her lap.

“Alright, if you’re not here for Cassie, what do you want?” She wore sweatpants, a hoodie, and her dark hair wrapped up in a silk scarf. She looked like she’d been just about to go to bed. I stifled a yawn behind my hand, suddenly realizing how long a night it’d been for me, too.

Peter leaned forward and laced his fingers together between his knees. “What do you know about the Underground Animal Rescue?”

Libbie snorted. “Not much.”

Cassie sniffed her chin.

“It was sort of a ‘don’t ask questions’ kind of scenario. As in, Malorie told me not to ask any questions or ask for any paperwork. A wagon from UAR would show up with a cage, usually at night, some animal in there, and we’d just take them.” She shrugged.

Peter narrowed his eyes. “What questions would you normally ask?”

She smirked. “Look, when I had my own zoo, if I bought an animal, the breeder would give me paperwork and permits certifying it was legal. And if they didn’t…” She lifted her palms, and Cassie circled in her lap like a dog settling down. “They probably weren’t legal.”

Peter frowned. “I just came from the Magical Animal Sanctuary. Quincy showed me paperwork.”

She smirked again. “That’s the sanctuary’s paperwork, just tracking the animal and where it came from. That’s not the same as the animal being registered with the government certifying the animal is legally a rescue or comes from a legal breeding facility.”

I nodded. “So you’re saying the Underground Animal Rescue is likely supplying the sanctuary with illegally obtained animals?”

She nodded. “Exactly.”

Peter and I exchanged looks. Just further evidence to support my theory. If Ludolf was behind this, why was he supplying the sanctuary with shifters? My stomach clenched. Fifty years ago—that was around the time of the Monster Wars. If Ludolf hadn’t banished those activist leaders to Carclaustra—maybe he’d found an entirely different sort of prison for them.

Libbie frowned at me. “You okay? You look like you’re going to be sick?”

I waved her off. “Just having an existential crisis, that’s all.”

Peter shot me a concerned look,