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simply hugging her. Especially if it was in the pocket away from the watching crowd.”

Peter nodded. “That’s why, when we checked Letty’s pockets, the syringe was missing. Chaz likely wiped off the fingerprints, then threw it away.”

The maid sucked in a gasp. “And I found it later in the garbage!”

“As soon as her reaction began, Letty suspected Chaz, especially when she couldn’t find the syringe in her pocket—it’s why she ran from the altar. And with her throat closed up, she couldn’t speak.” I shook my head, heart heavy. “Even if she could, with her own groom trying to kill her, she likely didn’t know who she could trust. It’s why she locked herself in the bridal suite.”

Poor Letty—she’d been all alone.

The maid stepped forward. “But—but what happened to her other vial?”

I nodded. “The bat psychically told me she’d put it in a vanity drawer in the bridal suite—only it wasn’t there when she looked for it.”

Chaz snorted. “Oh, I suppose I stole that, too? How could I have? I was standing at the altar when Letty left the suite and was outside the whole time—I never went in there.”

I smirked. “You didn’t have to. After Letty ran from the altar, you dashed around the stone wall and stood outside the open window to the bridal suite. You took her only other chance at surviving with a simple summoning spell.”

I shook my head at him, anger tight in my chest. “You probably whisked it right out of her hand. And while everyone was distracted, you also magicked that plate of strawberries in through the window—making it look like she’d killed herself. Either that or, having witnessed what Rachel was up to the day before, you figured your old family friend would be blamed.”

I raised my brows. “It’s why you were found outside the window, under the pretense of yelling at Letty to unlock the door. Right?”

Chaz, pale and sweaty, shot a wide-eyed look at Daisy, who watched him with her pointy ears pricked.

The family lawyer jumped to his feet, pointing at Chaz. “You don’t have to answer that!” He swept his arm wildly. “This is all conjecture! You’ve got no proof.”

I shot Peter a worried look, but he gave me an encouraging nod. And right on time, echoey voices sounded from the entryway, followed by clipped footsteps, then a knock at the door. The cops stationed there let in the officers we’d left at Chaz’s penthouse. They carried his tux jacket and slacks, and the lady cop addressed Peter.

“Found ’em.”

Chaz let out a whimper.

The lady cop held up the slacks. “The right-hand pocket tested positive for strawberry residue.”

Peter beamed at me, and a proud tingle ran from my neck down my spine. I turned brightly to the lawyer. “Is that enough evidence for you? Between that and Daisy detecting his lies, I’d say this is a closed case.”

Peter stepped forward, and Daisy hugged close to his side. “Chaz Harrington, did you murder your wife, Letty Jones?”

Chaz, trembling and eyes blazing, leapt to his feet. “No!”

Daisy barked, a loud, deep sound. Liar! He lies!

“Fine!” Chaz, a wild gleam in his eyes, shrugged. “I admit it—I killed her.”

The lawyer choked. “Chaz, I advise you to stop right—”

Chaz scoffed, ignoring the legal advice. “Who cares? I’m rich and powerful and popular—what jury is going to convict me for killing a shifter?”

My stomach turned, as though filled with ice water.

Chaz sneered, his face contorted and red. “I knew a dead wife would garner me tons of sympathy among voters. Plus, I’d look like a friend to shifters without the horror of being married to one.” He shuddered. “Disgusting. What else could I do? She trapped me! By the time that liar told me what she was, I either had to break it off and risk the stain to my reputation once word got out or pretend to embrace it. At least a dead shifter wife would earn me some points in the polls, even if it cost me some social clout among peers.”

I couldn’t listen anymore. I jabbed a finger at him. “Letty Jones deserved a thousand times better than a monster like you!”

Chaz curled his lip and looked me up and down. “Ew. What are you—one of them?”

“Ugh.” His mother made a face, and the others recoiled from me.

My chest grew heavy. These people were more disgusted by me possibly being a shifter than by their son murdering an innocent girl who’d trusted him to love her forever.

Peter stepped forward, face red and jaw tight. “Hey!”

Chaz looked up, startled.

Peter pointed a trembling finger at me. “Show some respect. She’s brilliant, determined, and has more charm in her pinkie nail than you’ll ever have.” Peter jerked his head at the officers by the door. “Arrest him.”

It was like some icy thing between Peter and me melted away, and I felt a rush of warmth.

As Mrs. Harrington dissolved into sobs and the cops arrested the struggling Chaz Harrington, I looked over at Peter and mouthed, “Thank you.”

25

A Confession

Peter and Daisy sat across from me in the same booth at the same diner we’d hit up the other night. Rain pattered the awnings outside the window at my back, and the griddle sizzled, the whole place smelling of burgers and fried food. My kind of place.

As we waited for our orders of fish and chips to come out, Peter cleared his throat, then looked earnestly at me across the chipped table. He laced his fingers together, rolling his thumbs one over the other. “Look, I need to be clear about something.”

He darted a look around the half-full diner, then leaned forward and lowered his voice. “My issue with you being a—a shifter, isn’t because I think you’re gross or less than, like that creep did.” He rolled his shoulders. “For me, it’s about trust.”

I nodded and kicked my feet, ankles crossed. “I get that… now.” I bit the inside of my cheek. “I’m having to work to trust you too, you know.” I raised

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