Pretty Little Fliers: A Cozy Witch Mystery (Magic Market Mysteries Book 1) by Erin Johnson

Author:Erin Johnson
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2019-10-25T04:00:00+00:00

21

LADY AMELIE LEBEC

Peter’s chest puffed, then he blew out a breath. We sat on a white leather bench in the front parlor of Lady Amelie LeBec’s mansion on one of the top tiers of Bijou Mer. Where Turk and Millie’s home had been a cheap imitation of grandeur, this place was the real thing.

The butler had lifted a brow at Daisy, but let us in when Peter flashed his badge. I drummed my fingertips on my thighs as we waited for him to fetch the lady of the house. Had anyone ever sat on this no doubt priceless piece of modern furniture in a pair of ratty sweatpants before? I doubted it. Good. I nodded to myself. I liked to be original, if nothing else.

The place was stark, all whites and blacks—the modern interior a striking contrast to the warm stone and plaster outside. And I couldn’t even hear any roaches or rats scurrying around behind the walls—that’s how you knew real class.

Peter leaned closer and lowered his voice. “You’re sure you saw her last night in the street?”

I nodded. “Positive. I just couldn’t place her at the time.”

He worried his lip and laced his hands together between his legs. “We don’t want to anger a rich and powerful person like Amelie LeBec for no reason. My boss will be all over me if we don’t handle this right.”

“Duly noted.” I flashed my eyes at him. “But I’m sure.”

The lady in question strode into the room, her stiletto heels clicking on the polished concrete floor. She sported a pantsuit with an asymmetrically hemmed jacket and a black stone choker that looked like a snake eating its own tail.

With her severe haircut, striking cheekbones, and full lips, I couldn’t have mistaken her for anyone else—even in the rain and the dark.

She lowered her tall, lithe frame into a chair across from us. It appeared to be made of blackened pieces of twisted driftwood. She crossed one knee over the other, arms spread out on the rests, and lifted a thin brow. “Well?”

Well, indeed. Someone was feeling herself.

Peter inclined his head. “Lady Amelie LeBec, thank you for taking the time to meet with us today. I’m Officer Peter Flint, and this is my associate Jolene Hartgrave.”

The woman’s eyes slid to me. “She is an officer?”

I raised a finger and clarified. “Consultant.”

She sneered. “Ah.”

Geez. Someone was adept at throwing shade.

Daisy’s tail swished. I like her.

I sniffed and let out a barely audible whine. You would.

Amelie curled her lip as she eyed the dog. “Oh, lovely. You’ve brought a pet.”

Peter cleared his throat. “Actually—” He ruffled the dog’s head and her tail wagged. “Daisy’s my partner.”

The rich woman’s nostrils flared. “Hm. Most officers I’ve met don’t shed quite so much.”

I smirked and glanced around at the sterile mansion—most of the furniture and walls were white—yet somehow spotless. The lady was a clean freak.

I reached forward with both hands and ruffled Daisy’s fur. “Yeah, I think she’s blowing her coat right now.” Clumps of tawny hair rose into the air, and I grinned at Amelie’s wan expression.

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