Desmond sighed internally and nodded to Lacey. “Thank you for your time, Miss Hines. Sorry for bothering you.”

  “It’s not a bother, Detective,” she said. “I just hope it helps y’all find Tiffany’s killer. She didn’t deserve it.”

  Desmond made his goodbyes and went back to his car, plotting all sorts of torture for Harvey when he saw him next for his failure to tell him they already had the cell phone in their possession.

  CHAPTER NINE

  When Desmond arrived at the precinct, Adrien Stewart’s girlfriend, Brienne Porter, was waiting for him in a conference room. He’d asked for her to be brought in for questioning despite Victoria’s having told him Adrien had had her full approval for the Valentine’s Day date that was to be Juniper’s prize. The fact was, she could have just said that she approved to make herself look good… or innocent. First, however…

  “Nichols! My office. Now. Wait for me,” he said then walked into the conference room to speak with Miss Brienne Porter about her boyfriend and Tiffany Davenport.

  “Good afternoon, Detective.” She greeted him with an open, friendly smile. “I assume I’m here to talk to you about Tiffany?”

  Desmond nodded. “Among other things. How’s Adrien, Miss Porter? Are you and he having trouble?”

  Confusion clouded her eyes. “No, we aren’t. In fact, he dropped me off here just a little while ago. Is something wrong?”

  Desmond sat across the table from her, flipped open a file, and put a picture of Tiffany on the table where she could see it. “Nothing other than the fact that this girl is dead. Tell me, Miss Porter, why would Adrien accept the role of King of Hearts, knowing it involved going on a date… and why would you let him?”

  Her gaze flew up to lock with his, surprise and maybe a little bit of fear in her eyes. “What do you mean? It was just a date for charity. Why wouldn’t I agree to that?”

  “Let’s just say I find it very odd that a guy in a perfectly happy relationship would join a Valentine’s date raffle and also odd that his girlfriend wouldn’t be jealous.”

  Brienne’s surprise and fear turned to something like offense. Desmond could feel the vibes rolling off her, and every one of them said he’d managed to insult her. “Look, Detective, maybe you’re not the kind of guy who can understand when people want to do a good deed, but I’m telling you that is exactly what Adrien and I had in mind. We talked about the date raffle. We already know every eligible woman in the Cove would love to spend an evening with him—he’s handsome, witty, fun... every girl’s dream. Especially mine.”

  “So why would you jeopardize your dream? Why allow for the possibility of it becoming a nightmare by suggesting he enter the raffle and spend a romantic evening with someone else?”

  “That one should be obvious, Detective Mallard. I can already have a date with Adrien whenever I want.”

  “It just seems like inviting trouble, Miss Porter, and I don’t see why any normal, happily together couple would invite trouble into their relationship.”

  “There would have been no trouble if Tiffany hadn’t died. We wanted there to be a lot of entries because the children’s hospital charity is one that’s close to my heart.” Brienne looked up at him, her eyes moist. “My baby sister had cancer when she was seven, and the hospital helped her immensely.”

  Desmond was taken aback. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  Brienne shrugged. “She’s okay now. But you can see why I didn’t mind lending Adrienne out for the night if it meant more money would be raised. Adrien and I have a solid relationship. We are happy. The date wasn’t meant to be a forever thing with whoever won, and nobody should have died because of it.”

  Because of it. For some reason, those words gave Desmond pause. Was the fact Tiffany won the date the motive for murder, or was it something else? Maybe he was currently barking up the wrong tree? He put the picture back, closed the folder, and stood. “Thank you for your time, Miss Porter.”

  Brienne nodded. “I was happy to come down and answer your questions, Detective. Tiffany’s death has upset us all. If there is anything else I can help with, let me know. We all want to know who would have done this to her.”

  Desmond waited while she collected her purse and then made her way out of the precinct before making his own way to his office, where Harvey Nichols waited. As always, Harvey was smiling when he slammed open the door.

  “Tiffany’s cell phone—you have it?” Desmond demanded.

  Still smiling, Harvey nodded several times as he answered. “Yes, sir, Detective, sir. Had it since this morning. It’s been down at forensics for hours. I guess they should have something to tell us soon, sir. Want me to call you when they do?”

  “What I would have preferred would have been a call from you the minute Miss Hines brought the phone in. Why didn’t that happen, Harvey?”

  He shrugged. “I figured you’d know about it, sir, since you were going to have a chat with the lady yourself. She didn’t tell you? She should have told you.”

  “You should have told me, Harvey. You. Now there’s no telling how long I’ll have to wait before forensics gets back with…” He stopped, closed his eyes, and started counting. After a minute, he opened his eyes. “Never mind, Nichols. I’ll get the information when I get it.”

  Across town, Juniper asked Quincy the question that had been bugging her since he’d let her know his people had the ingredients needed to make her mirror potion. He’d just slid her a double-shot mocha java across the bar, which she sipped. “How long until we get it?”

  “These things take time, my dear Juniper,” Quincy said with a wink. “I still have a few ingredients to source. But I promise you, it will be soon.”

  He leaned across the bar and lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Between you and me, we’re lucky to have gotten our hands on some of these rare ingredients at all. I’ve had to call in quite a few favors.”

  “Yeah, I know. I owe you one, buddy.” Juniper took a sip of her drink.

  He leaned back and smiled at her. “You do. But don’t worry. The potion will be ready before you know it.”

  “I hope so. I need to find out who killed Tiffany Davenport before everyone in Crescent Cove swears off my parties,” Juniper said.

  “I understand,” Quincy said. “But, as I warned you before, the potion will only show you the last moments before Tiffany crossed over. It may not necessarily show you who killed her unless the angle of the mirror at that time captured the killer’s face.”

  Juniper frowned. “But it’s worth a try, right?”

  “Of course,” Quincy said. “It’s always worth a try.”

  “Then the sooner I get the potion, the better.”

  “Patience is a virtue, Juni. We have to do it by the phases. Once the elixir is ready, we’ll be there to do what has to be done with the mirror, but these things are very delicate. We can’t rush this. The best answer I can give you is that we’ll get it when we get it.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  “When they got it” was only a few days later, but Juniper was ready to tear the walls down by that point.

  Almost before Quincy’s hand made contact with the door to knock, it swung inward, a harried-looking Juniper standing on the other side.

  “It’s about time!” she exclaimed, nearly dragging him inside. “I haven’t had to fend off any little duckies in a few days, so we’ve got that going for us, but that doesn’t mean Dear Desi doesn’t have cards of his own up his sleeve.”

  Quincy slid a look at Tori, who was following along, and she shrugged. “You know how she gets.”

  Following along behind Juniper, Quincy said, “June, you know this isn’t a race, right? Or a test? You’re not even qualified to work a murder case.”

  “And yet I have managed to solve how many at this point?” Juniper remarked as she speed walked through the mansion to the bathroom adjacent to the ballroom.

  “Four,” Tori said. “But who’s counting?”

  “Obviously, you are,” Quincy remarked offhandedly, to which Tori snorted.

  “Force of habit, I think.”

  “Stop yapping, you two,” Juniper said. “It’s distracting.”

  From what, Quincy couldn’t be sure, unless she meant the moment. If that was the case, he had to suppress a chuckle. Only Juniper Holiday would get excited about going to the bathroom to perform a ritual spell. Or perhaps Quincy was just jaded about the magic of it all. He’d been performing spells since he was a boy, so this wasn’t anything particularly exciting to him. He was getting a kick out of watching Juniper act like a kid at Christmas, however.

  Finally, they reached the bathroom. Juniper practically flung open the door and strode inside, careful to keep out of the way of the mirror, which, to Quincy’s surprise, was covered in black cloth.

  “I thought it might help if it was covered,” she explained.

  “It certainly won’t hurt,” Quincy said, tilting his head a bit to the side.

  “Do we need to do this somewhere sacred or something?” Tori asked curiously.

  “No,” Quincy said, shaking his head. “I will need sunlight, however.”

  “Ballroom?”

  “Direct sunlight,” Quincy said, reaching to take the mirror off the wall. “It needs to be outside. Cripes, June. How much does this thing weigh?”

  “I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “I didn’t pick it out or put it up. It’s been here for generations.”

  Huffing with effort, Quincy managed to get the mirror out on the lawn without dropping it or straining any pertinent muscles on his body. It was a bit of a task putting it down without breaking it, but in the end he managed. None of them needed bad luck right now. He pulled the cloth away. A swath of blue sky was reflected in the mirror’s face.

  Taking a step back, he pulled a corked bottle from his jacket.

  “Oooh, do we need to hold hands or speak an incantation out loud as a group?” Juniper asked with childish enthusiasm.

  Quincy shook his head and unstopped the bottle. “Nope. The only one doing the chanting will be me unless you two know Latin.”

  “Nope,” said Tori, while Juniper’s admission was a bit more colorful.

  “Dang! I knew I should have taken that elective in college!”

  Chuckling, Quincy held his hand out over the mirror and tipped the bottle on its side so the contents poured out in a steady, continuous stream. In a whisper of breath, he began the incantation, asking for clarity and truth to be shown in the mirror’s reflection. Before the stream was broken and the bottle began dripping the vestiges of the liquid, he ended the litany of Latin, righted the bottle, stoppered it, and returned it to his pocket.

  He motioned Juniper and Tori closer and said, “Before you look into the mirror, think about what you wish to be revealed. It cannot show you anything other than truth and clarity. Focus on that and tell me what you see.”

  Both Tori and Juniper wore looks of concentration, though Juni’s was perhaps a bit more intense. Then, together, they looked down into the pool of liquid covering the mirror. They watched with rapt attention.

  “All you can see from this angle is Tiffany’s hand,” Tori said.

  “And it looks like she’s already dead,” Juniper added then gasped. “Someone took her bracelet! The killer is also a thief!”

  “What did you see?” Quincy asked the two women.

  Tori looked up from the mirror, eyes wide. “Tiffany was lying on the ground. She must have just been strangled. Her hand was at her side, and another hand came into the picture and snatched the bracelet right off it!”

  “But all we could see was the hands. Not the person. That bracelet snatcher is the killer, but we could only see a hand! What a rip-off.” Juniper stood and stomped off toward the house.

  Quincy watched her for a second then turned to Tori. “The vision only shows the moment the person passes over. Tiffany must have been breathing her last breath on the floor. You’re lucky it showed anything at that angle though.”

  “I guess.” Tori stood. A gust of wind blew her hair in her face, and a few strands got in her mouth, making her splutter. “Well, that came from out of nowhere.”

  Quincy wasn’t so sure. He was no stranger to the paranormal, and rumor had it the Holiday mansion was haunted. It was possible one of the ghosts didn’t like their disappointment in what they’d seen in the mirror.

  He nodded toward the house. “What’s next on the agenda? I know Juni’s not going to stop until she gets answers.”

  Tori looked off in the direction Juniper had disappeared. “Back to the drawing board, probably. You’re right about her not giving up. I just hope she manages to stay out of Stomper’s crosshairs long enough to get the job done. Detective Mallard’s job is kind of on the line too.”

  Quincy frowned. “Stomper?”

  “Oh, uh, that’s what everyone down at the precinct calls the chief of police because of the way he stomps around. Not where he can hear them, of course.”

  “Of course not,” Quincy said with a chuckle.

  Tori cocked her head to the side. “I’d invite you in for a spell, but if I know Juni, she’s going to start blasting music in a minute, and we won’t be able to hear ourselves think.”

  As if on cue, “I Want It All” by Queen started blasting through the speakers put up all through the place.

  Shaking their heads at a certain amateur sleuth, Tori and Quincy went their separate ways.

  The mirror lay outside on the lawn, the blue sky reflecting in the pool of magic left on its surface.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Juniper was fuming. She had been hoping to see the face of the killer, but instead, all she got was a hand. A hand with no distinguishing marks. But now she knew the killer was really heartless. Strangling someone was bad enough, but to steal their bracelet while they were dying? That was just plain mean. But Juniper had to wonder… did the bracelet have some significance?

  If it did, she had no idea what, and now she still didn’t know who killed Tiffany Davenport. And she didn’t have much to go on! She had been so fixated on the mirror potion being the answer she needed that she hadn’t bothered to go about finding anything else to help her uncover the identity of the murderer.

  “Ooooh, this is not how things were supposed to work out!”

  Having Queen’s “I Want It All” blaring at concert-level decibels in the background wasn’t even helping her concentrate one bit. Nor was it calming her down as it should have, so Juniper picked up the remote and started flipping through her music. She didn’t pay a bit of attention as the three-second snippets of tracks started, stopped, and started again. Instead, she kept clicking the button, waiting until a song started that fit her mood and the moment and the wretched state she found herself in after the potion fiasco.

  Going from song to song, she danced around her office, dodging Ludo and Loki and picking up Finn and dancing with him in her arms while her brain tried to figure out the best place to start over with this whole Valentine’s Day murder thing. She would be starting from the beginning instead of the end like she’d thought she would be. It was Queen’s “We Will Rock You/We Are the Champions” combo that finally settled both her ruffled feathers and her frazzled soul enough to let her turn down the music again.

  “I was beginning to wonder what was taking so long,” Tori said from the doorway.

  Juniper glanced up at her then back down at the paper in front of her. “Even you have to admit Quin’s little magic mirror trick was more than a minor letdown.”

  Tori shrugged. “Maybe. He did say it would only capture the last thing.”

  “Yeah, well, I was hoping to see the killer. I’m going to have to start from the beginning on this murder thing now? And it’s been days! Any clues that might have been lurking around here are probably all lost by now.”

  “Mmm, and that’s what eats at you, isn’t it?” Tori plopped down in a chair and curled her feet underneath her. Ludo jumped into her lap, and she stroked the cat’s fur. “Or is it that you know Detective Mallard already has his ducks in a row and is probably closer to finding our killer than you now?”

  Juniper held up the remote, her finger lingering like a threat over the volume button. “Mention that man’s name again, and I won’t be responsible for the consequences.”

  Tori laughed then scrambled from the chair, dumping Ludo on the floor. She grabbed the remote from Juniper’s hand before her godmother could figure out what she was up to and promptly changed the song then hit the volume herself. Korn’s “Twisted Transistor” poured through the mansion... which was probably why neither woman heard the bell or the knocking at the front door until the entire place suddenly fell silent.

  Juniper glanced at Tori, who had been dancing around the room with her until the music died, then at Lionel, who had risen from the center of the floor, his expression resolute. “Detective Mallard is at the door, madam. Should I show him in?”

  “Frankenfeathers? What is he doing here? Is that why you short-circuited my tunes?”

  Juniper made a face, but before she could say anything more, Tori smacked her hand against her forehead. “Oh, God, I forgot he was coming by!” Tori tossed the remote onto Juniper’s desk and hot-footed it to the door. “I’ll get it.”

  “Victoria! Don’t you dare!” Juniper raced after her, but she’d already opened the front door and was trying to force her breathing into a less accelerated pace even as Juniper skidded to a halt beside her.

  “Traitor!” she hissed into Tori’s ear, but Tori brushed the taunt away.

  “Detective Mallard, I am sorry to keep you waiting out here. I forgot you were coming over, and the music was so loud…”

  “How do you not have hearing problems, Miss Cooper? That was loud enough to wake the dead.”

  “Not entirely,” Jacobi popped through the wall to say then patted his mouth to cover a yawn. “But she does get close sometimes.”