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

I glanced down at my ratty band tee and hole-filled jeans. I clearly wasn’t from the upper tiers of Bijou Mer, so, fair enough.

May nodded. “I want Letty to get justice.”

“Well, thanks. Me, too.” I frowned as she started past me. “Hey, before you go.”

She paused and looked over her shoulder.

“Did Letty stop and talk to anyone on her way from the bridal suite to the altar?”

“Hmm.” May’s gaze grew far away as she turned back to face me. “She hugged Mr. And Mrs. Harrington.”

I raised my brows. “Hugged?”

She smirked. “Well… they did air kisses.”

I grinned—that sounded more their style.

“And on her way down the aisle, poor thing tripped—she said she wasn’t used to wearing heels, and she looked so nervous I thought she might lose her breakfast, except that I knew she hadn’t had any.”

I tipped my head to the side. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged. “I brought breakfast to her door, but she didn’t open it. She said she wasn’t hungry.”

“Then where did the strawberries come from?”

May shook her head. “I don’t know, but I certainly didn’t bring them to her.” She leaned closer. “I don’t know for certain, but I think I saw Rachel Whitmore stick her foot out and trip Letty. Several guests rushed forward and helped her up.”

I nodded. “Thanks.” Wow. Poor Letty—these people were vicious. At least some of them had helped her.

And that meant Chaz’s parents, Rachel, and any of the guests who rushed to help her up would have been close enough to pickpocket the syringe out of her dress. It also might have just rolled out when she fell, but that didn’t explain what happened to the vial she’d stashed in the dresser drawer. Plus, we needed to figure out who this man who’d shown up at the castle demanding money from Mr. Harrington was.

May moved down the hall, and I headed in the opposite direction with Letty’s diary tucked under my arm.

13

P.I.

When I reentered the library, a tense silence hung over the room. The only sounds were the crackling fire and the ticking of the grandfather clock.

I raised my brows. “What’d I miss?”

Peter looked up and jumped to his feet. “Did you get any good information from the bat?”

“Mm-hmm.” I winked at Peter as I passed Mr. Harrington still reading in his chair by the fire.

His wife scoffed and rolled her eyes. “As if a bat is going to hold the key to that girl’s death.”

Her husband lowered his book. “Marcy…” His tone held a warning.

She threw up her perfectly manicured hands. “What?” She looked to Chaz, still splayed on the chaise, and the lawyer, who now paced behind him. “Someone has to say what we’re all thinking. The girl killed herself—she couldn’t handle the pressure of so many scrutinizing eyes on her.”

Wow—what a sympathetic mother-in-law Letty had had. Chaz said nothing in defense of his dead wife, either. My chest burned with annoyance—again, I longed to get justice for Letty.

I crossed the room and stood beside Peter, Daisy on his other side. The dog’s head swiveled from one of the suspects to the next, her brow pinched in confusion. She sniffled. I can’t tell who’s lying. She curled her lip at me and whined. I feel so useless and bewildered—is this how you feel all the time?

I shot her a flat look, unable to retort in front of all these people.

I crossed my arms and stared down at Mrs. Harrington, who lounged on the sofa, looking completely unembarrassed by her insensitive comments about her son’s dead wife. “Actually, I got some pretty wild visions from ol’ Barty.”

She stared me down and kicked her foot, playing with the pump dangling off her toes.

I decided to pretend the bat had given me the information instead of May, the maid, to keep her out of trouble. I raised a couple of fingers to my temple. “I got something about a man showing up here demanding more money from Mr. Harrington? Seems there was some sort of argument?”

All eyes swiveled to the distinguished older gentleman in his chair by the fire.

“Teddy, tell this charlatan that—”

“That’s correct.” Mr. Harrington interrupted his wife, which left her shocked with her mouth hanging open. “I hired a private investigator to look into Letty.”

“Dad!” Chaz bolted up to sitting. “You did what?” He gasped, eyes round with shock, though his gaze darted to me and Peter. I frowned—it was almost as if he was checking to see if we bought his reaction. I doubted this was the first he’d heard of the private investigator.

Mr. Harrington dug around in the inside breast pocket of his tweed jacket, then drew his wand, flicked his wrist, and a white business card appeared in his hand. “Here’s the man’s card.” Peter scooted past me and took it, looking it over.

“I’m familiar with him.” He leaned close to me and whispered, “He’s a real algae ball.”

I bit back a smirk. Still, a private investigator—sounded like kind of a sweet gig. I pulled my lips to the side—I helped Peter investigate crimes, did that make me a PI of sorts?

“What did he find?” Peter held up the card.

Mr. Harrington shrugged. “Nothing.” He looked at me. “It’s why we were arguing.”

I frowned. “I got something about the man demanding more money, though?”

He blinked and cleared his throat. “Yes, well—ahem—he was demanding payment, period. You see, I told him to look harder if he wanted his fee.”

I sighed. That sounded about right—they wanted some dirt on Letty to use to break up her and their son. Still—I wondered if the PI had really failed to discover that Letty was a shifter.

Peter shook the card. “Thank you for this. We’ll be looking into it.”

Mr. Harrington splayed his palms and nodded.

14

The Diary

Peter, Daisy, and I made our way down the cobblestone streets of the mountain to a greasy little diner on a lower tier of Bijou Mer. Daisy hopped up on the booth seat beside Peter, and I slid in across from them. A