October 30, Wednesday

I SCRIBBLED away in my notebook, perched on my usual bench in the Whisper Graveyard. Lady Amelia was in the midst of uncovering a crucial clue when the crunch of gravel underfoot pulled me from my fictional world.

I looked up to see Detective Jack Terry striding towards me, his face set in grim lines. The afternoon sun glinted off his badge as he approached.

"Ms. Vanguard," he called out, nodding in greeting.

"Detective Terry," I replied, closing my notebook. "What brings you back to our little corner of the world?"

He glanced around the graveyard, his eyes scanning the headstones. "I need to see Wayne Blakemore's grave."

I blinked, taken aback. "Wayne's grave? But he... Detective, Wayne was cremated."

Jack's brow furrowed. "Cremated? Are you sure?"

I nodded, gesturing vaguely towards the center of the graveyard. "There was a memorial service in the park, and then his ashes were scattered here. This is his final resting place, but there's no actual grave."

The detective's shoulders slumped, frustration evident in every line of his body. "Dammit," he muttered. "I was misinformed."

"May I ask why you're looking for Wayne's grave?" I ventured, curiosity getting the better of me.

Jack ran a hand through his hair, seeming to debate how much to share. Finally, he sighed. "I suppose you'll hear about it soon enough. Wayne Blakemore's death is being investigated as a murder."

The words hit me like a physical blow. "Murder? But I thought... Wasn't it a heart attack?"

"That's what it looked like at first," Jack said, his voice low. "But the autopsy revealed some... inconsistencies. Toxicology came back with some unusual results."

My mind reeled. Sweet, bookish Wayne Blakemore, murdered? It seemed impossible. "But who would want to hurt Wayne?"

Jack's gaze sharpened. "That's what I'm trying to figure out, Ms. Vanguard. Did he have any enemies? Anyone who might wish him harm?"

I thought back to my interactions with Wayne, trying to remember any details that might be important. "Not to my knowledge."

"What about this book he was writing?"

I blinked. "What about it?"

"I'd like to take a look at it."

I nodded, a knot forming in my stomach. "Of course. I'll dig it out when I get back to the house."

Jack thanked me, then turned to survey the graveyard once more. "So his ashes were scattered here? Anywhere in particular?"

I pointed towards Rose's empty grave. "The wind seemed to carry them over there, actually. It was... quite dramatic."

The detective's gaze followed my finger, his expression unreadable. "That seems to describe this whole town."

As Jack made his way back to his car, I sat there, my mind whirling. Wayne, murdered? And over what? A novel about local legends?