Chapter 12

Oneday before Halloween.

DesmondCrane.Lying immobile on my shop’s floor.

Itook a few deep breaths.

Okay, Hope. Not the first time we’ve come across suspicious bodies in this building. No need to panic.

Thisall had a perfectly logical explanation just beyond my reach, but I’d eventually get there.

“Mr. Crane?” I asked tentatively.

Cranedidn’t so much as twitch.

Helay parallel to the counter, dressed in a charcoal-gray suit. The stools had been moved aside to make enough space—he was one of those thick men that resembled tree trunks.

Iapproached and peered closer at his skin. He truly was very pale. And his lips held a familiar blue tint.

Experiencetold me this was a bad sign.

Reachingdown, I shook his shoulder, then snatched my hand back and braced myself for him to snap up straight and scream at me.

Nothinghappened.

Noboo! or gotcha!

Onlysilence.

“Nothing is ever as bad as it appears,” I reminded myself. “There is always good to be found in every situation. Just because you can’t think of anything right now, it doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

Kneelingby Crane’s side, I tentatively put my fingers on his cold neck and awakened my magic.

Wake.

Ittingled and reacted with his skin as the basic incantation attempted to take hold.

Goodnews: unlike all my previous experiences with dead people, this was not a ghost.

Badnews: DesmondCrane was most definitely dead.

Oh, boy.

Igot to my feet and stumbled onto a stool, my gaze never leaving the body on the floor.

Whyon Mother’sGreenEarth was DesmondCrane dead on my shop’s floor?

Fingersshaking, I called Ian.

“It’s early even for you,” he answered with some amusement.

“There’s a—” My voice came out awfully high-pitched, so I swallowed and tried again. “I need you to come to the shop.”

“Is everything all right?”

Ilet out a squawking noise that could’ve meant anything, but he must’ve gotten the gist of it because he told me he’d be right over and ended the call.

“Ms. Bagley?” I asked in the same squeak of a voice.

Sheremained silent, but in the back of my mind, I heard her malevolent cackle. The nosy hag was probably going to keep me in suspense and not tell me anything of what had transpired unless I cut her a deal.

Well, two could play the silent game.

Igrabbed the pumpkin decoration off the table and moved it into the kitchen.

WhereI filled up a tall glass with water and gulped it down in one go.

Concernednoises reverberated through the pipes, and I tried hard not to think I had just drunk kraken ghost bathwater.

Maybeit was like unintended bugs in your food—extra protein.

Anervous giggle erupted out of my chest, and I squeezed my hands hard, trying to stop it from becoming hysterical laughter.

Focus, Hope.

Itwas only a dead body. Been there, done that. I could deal with it.

Irepeated this somewhat soothing mantra until Ian knocked on the backyard’s gate, and I hurried to let him in.

Hewas tall and solid like the best of walls against the harshest of storms.

“What is it?” he asked without preamble in that direct way I liked so much.

“Des—DesmondCrane is dead in the shop.”

Hiseyebrows almost touched his hairline. His hair was slightly damp, curling around his face and neck. He had forgone the hair tie this morning but not his all-black uniform.

“Dead?” he asked.

Inodded vehemently. “Dead-dead.”

“Did you…?”

Ishook my head vigorously. “Did not.”

Hesqueezed my arm, then strode into the building. I followed like a lost lamb and watched as he went inside the shop and paused for a moment, taking in the scenery.

“You found him like this?”

“Yes.”

Heknelt by Crane and pressed his fingers to his neck. Without saying a word, he stood, went to the front door, and gave the handle a couple of sharp pulls.

“I was the first one here,” I told him as he checked that the front door alarm was engaged.

“Apparently not,” he murmured, returning to my side. “Tell me what happened.”

“I woke up, had my breakfast, then came down to get the shop ready and found him like this.”

“Was the back door open?”

“I unlocked it to let you in just now.”

“Nothing out of the ordinary overnight? Nothing woke you up?”

“Nothing.”

Herubbed his chin, deep in thought. “Hmm.”

“What are you thinking?”

“That your shop is cursed.”

Thatstung a little. “A few deaths do not a curse make.” Although at this rate perhaps I should change the name to the MurderCauldron. The errant thought brought me up short. “You think he was killed here?”

Hewalked around the body, doing a slow study of the scene. “He was a heavy man. It would’ve been hard to drag him inside.”

“There are no wounds.”

“That we can see.”

“But why would Crane come into my shop?”

“Searching for some kind of potion? He thought you’re a dark witch.”

Thatmade sense, but… “He could’ve simply tried to blackmail me into making him a potion rather than go through the effort of breaking in.”

“Perhaps he was looking for something Bagley used. Some sort of secret compartment?” He scowled at the shelves and the tables. “Where’s the old witch?”

Ipointed at the bead curtain. “Kitchen. She’s on time out.”

“Good idea.”

Unfortunately, I was too unnerved to bask in his approval. “What do I do? ShouldI call OfficerBrooks?”

“That would be wise.”

Wouldit, though? Something in me resisted the idea. I joined him by Crane’s body, wriggling my hands again. “Ian, look at him. So pale.”

Iansent me a sharp glance. “You’re thinking exsanguination?”

Whenyou were a good witch passing as a dark witch, some things came to mind easier than others. “It could be. It’ll make me the main suspect. The person who owns the murder scene is always the first suspect.” Everyone knew that. “And if someone did steal his blood, Brooks might start investigating the black market deals around the shop.”

“And discover your side business?”

Inodded, worrying my lip. “I don’t think she’ll believe me that I do placebos. And if the Council hears about this…”

ThenI might as well kiss my shop goodbye.

Beingthe center of a police murder investigation wasn’t the kind of feature spotlight the Council appreciated.

IfI reported the murder, and the police focused on me, the murderer could be long gone, and I might end up in prison and lose the shop for nothing.

“If we call OfficerBrooks, she’ll probably end up involving the bounty hunters and burying the investigation on the human side. Paranormal victim, paranormal suspect, paranormal murder scene.” I swallowed hard. “I think we need to investigate on our own.” I went through the words again in my head, then nodded to myself. “Yes. We need to get the body out of here and figure out who did this.”

“You realize hiding the body is what a guilty person would do, right?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Oh?”

“It’d be a decision made out of panic.”

“Are you in a panic?”

“Yes!”

Idropped onto a stool and covered my face with my hands.

“Why me?” I asked with a sorrowful whimper.

“Yes. Whyyou?”

Forthe first time, I gave the question some thought. Whyme? “Someone trying to sabotage the shop?” Again.

“Then why leave the body as is? Why not call in the police?”

Ijumped off the stool and checked the blinds hiding the shop from the street. “You think they did?”

“No.”

“No?” I asked, full of hope.

“If that was the plan, they would’ve done it already.”

“More reason for us to deal with this on our own.” I couldn’t risk losing the shop. Not when I was so close to it being officially mine. Not to mention being branded a dark witch and ending up in Council jail.

Ianstudied me. “Are you a hundred percent sure you don’t want to involve the police and risk a murderer walking free?”

Thatwas a fair question, so I gave it the thought it demanded. “Yes, I’m sure. Whoever killed Crane left him in my shop for a reason. Maybe some sort of sabotage, or a warning. Or they were planning on murdering him anyway and thought I’d clean up the mess for them.”

“Which you want to do,” he reminded me.

Itugged my T-shirt straight. “The point is that it’s almost certainly a paranormal matter.”

Andparanormals took care of their own justice.

“What about the murderer?” Ian asked. “Are you sure you can catch them?”

“We caught who murdered the guy in the bathtub and Bagley, didn’t we?” Although, caught might be a bit of an exaggeration. Judging from the look Ian sent me, he was having the same thought. “Vicky paid for her actions. It still counts.”

Ianhuffed but said nothing else on that subject. As usual, while he might not approve of my decision, he wouldn’t stand in my way.

“I’ll find the murderer and deliver them to the bounty hunters,” I promised both of us and the gnawing of worry in my stomach. If a murderer went free because I was too scared of losing the shop… I didn’t even want to think about what Grandma would say.

Butthey wouldn’t go free. I’d find a way.

“Yes,” I repeated, more firmly. “We’ll catch the murderer.”

“All right,” Ian said.

Ireached over and squeezed his hand in thanks. He squeezed back.

“What’s the plan?” he asked.

“We need to get Crane out of the shop.” I pondered the problem. We could bury him in the backyard, but I didn’t want to. My murder house’s backyard had somehow survived this long without a dead body in it, and I didn’t want to end the streak.

Itwas also creepy and really bad karma.

Oh, boy. I hoped Crane didn’t start haunting the shop too.

Ian, apparently deciding this was as far as my plan would ever get, placed a call.

“Bring the van to the TeaCauldron,” he said into the phone. Probably talking to Shane. “Get tarps and some other stuff as if you’re out on a job.”

Iplucked at a loose thread in my T-shirt’s hem. “Is it okay to involve the strays?”

Iangave me a come now look. “You can’t have your cake and eat it too. If you don’t want the police, someone else needs to get involved.”

“You’re right.” I hung my head in defeat. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry. Not the first body Shane has helped disappear.”

Ihoped it would be the last.

ButI had my doubts.