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

awake, to spend time with Millie.”
Daisy let out a growl. Lie.
As Peter asked some follow-up questions, I glanced over at the dog beside me. I let out a quiet woof, then a whine. So, how do you know he’s lying?
Daisy’s dark eyes slid to me and her ears flattened. She woofed and groaned. I can smell it.
“Ha!” I slapped my thigh, then waved at Peter to continue his questions when he glanced over at me. I snuffled. You literally sniff out the truth? That’s grand.
Yes. Daisy lifted her nose in the air. When I sniff out a lie, it smells like the most putrid odor you can imagine.
I smirked and made a few doggie noises. And the truth?
Daisy’s tail wagged, and she let out a happy woof. The truth smells sweet, like pure goodness. It’s the best smell in the world.
Mm-hmm. I waggled my brows at her. So to you, that’s like what? Cat doo doo?
Daisy growled at me as I devolved into cackles. Peter threw a questioning look over his shoulder, and I sucked on my lips to sober up.
Peter turned to Zo, who still stood by the windows. “And Zozanna? Where were you tonight?”
“Here, for a bit.” Zo glared at Turk. “I worked late, then left not too long ago and went home. I live nearby and came back when I saw the police signal and the crowd in the street. Looked like it was right over the business, and I was worried.”
“Can anyone vouch for you?”
She shook her head at Peter. “No. I was completely alone.”
Peter leaned forward. “Did you see Bim this evening?”
Zo shook her head. She’d pulled her long hair over her shoulder and played with the ends. “No. She must’ve gotten here after I left.” She gave an exaggerated shudder. “That could’ve been me if I’d stayed longer.”
Millie let out a whimper and buried her face in her hands, a single curler half hanging off her head.
Her husband patted her back. “I know. Poor Bim.” He yawned and dragged a hand down his face. “I’m so sleepy.”
“Why’d you stay late tonight?” Peter asked. “Was that common for you?”
Zo shrugged. “We had a lot of items that needed packaging up to be shipped in the morning. Yeah, I stay late kinda often.”
Daisy’s black lips curled back from her teeth. Half lie.
But you can’t pinpoint what she’s lying about? I rolled my eyes. So useful.
Daisy barked at me, her tail stiff. I’ll show you useful, shifter! I’ll bite your—
Peter jumped to his feet and grabbed Daisy’s leather harness, dragging her away from me. “Uh, Jolene, maybe you could—you know—” He grunted as he struggled to keep his dog from attacking me. “Do your thing?” He jerked his head toward the cage on the desk by the door. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into her!”
Daisy thrashed against Peter’s hold.
I curled my lip. “Maybe you should get her a muzzle.”
Peter shot me an apologetic look.
“Fine.” I slid off the desk, grumbling to myself as I passed Turk and Millie. “I’m just doing this to get my landlady off my back, and then no way am I going to work with that mangy mutt again.”
Millie raised a brow.

12


THE PARAKEET
Behind me, Peter continued to question the business owner, his wife, and the saucy secretary. The other cops milled about, collecting evidence. I dragged my feet over to the cage on the receptionist’s desk. I, on the other hand, got to interview a bird. Lucky me.
I let out a couple of quiet chirps—luckily, no one was near enough to overhear my conversation. Knock knock.
I yanked the thin, powder blue blanket to the side, revealing a gilded cage and the blue-and-green parakeet inside, its feet wrapped around the perch. She blinked at me, and her pupils dilated as she woke up. She gave herself a little shake and side-stepped closer.
“Chirp!” Hello?
After a quick glance over my shoulder, just to double-check that none of the officers had wandered closer, I folded my arms on the tall desk and leaned forward till I was eye level with the bird.
“Chirp, whistle, squawk!” Hi, little gal, I understand you witnessed a murder tonight? Care to share?
The budgie turned her head and ruffled her feathers. Did I? She blinked slowly. I’m tired. Blanket, please.
I frowned at the throw beside me, then turned back to the bird. “Chirp chirp!” What’s the blanket for?
To sleep. She buried her head under one wing. It’s too bright without it!
I fingered the thin fabric. Huh. And I’d just assumed this bird was the redheaded stepfairy of the family and they’d covered her up as a punishment. I frowned as a thought occurred to me.
Was the blanket on all night? The bird had probably been asleep the whole time and unable to see anything anyway.
She let out a rapid series of grumpy chirps. The one who sits here—
I glanced at the wooden chair behind the tall desk—that would be Zo, the secretary. I felt a pang of pity for her. I couldn’t imagine having to sit behind this messy desk and smell bird droppings all day. Boxes and packets rose high in piles on and around the desk, adding to the feeling of being walled off from the rest of the room.
—was the last one here, and she put the blanket on and turned that bright sign off. Then I heard her leave.
I bit my thumb nail. Zo had told the truth— about taking off, anyway. It didn’t mean she couldn’t have come back, though.
I dozed off, then woke up when someone turned that stupid sign on again. Her beady eyes narrowed. It’s so bright, humph.
I cocked my head. Did you see who turned it on?
The bird adjusted her grip on the perch, stretching her scaly claws. No. But I heard a scream and then someone ran away, down the stairs, fast. Then I dozed off but woke up when someone else came up the stairs and ran off again right away.
Huh. Maybe it