Chapter One

The Suds Stop smelled like lemon, lavender, and home to me. I stopped at the entrance to the back soaping area and inhaled a deep breath. My shoulders fell and a sense of peace fell over me. Walking in here meant stepping into my happy place. I had to set aside any dark emotion or sadness before I worked because my power meant the emotions I experienced would seep right into the soap if I didn’t clear them beforehand.

As an empath and a sort of witch, I infused positive emotions and characteristics into my work, though I chose soap and other bath and body products as my medium. I could infuse any inanimate object with emotion, but I never used it on things people didn’t actually keep close to them or use in some way. A gift like this should be used in a positive way and I loved making soap so I combined those two things to create The Suds Stop - a small little magical soap shop in MoonMist Springs.

I stuck to the happier emotions in my products, but I also made things for people dealing with sadder emotions: grief, loss, anxiety, depression. I stayed away from the more risque product lines, though later this year I had plans for a romance line. I'd taken a long time perfecting it because my magic, while usually stable and calm, could occasionally get a little too excitable about the possibility of being used. The last thing I wanted was my soap causing a baby boom. I’d have a Moonmist riot on my hands.

I chuckled to myself as I stepped into my soaping room. Tugging my heavy duty apron over my head, I tied the back of it and pulled my hair up in a high ponytail, making sure my bangs were caught up in it. No one wanted stray hair in their bath bombs. I pulled out what I'd need for my next project: a large bowl, my bath bomb mix minus the citric acid which I kept in a separate container, mica, essential oils and a bottle of high quality olive oil.

Harry, the resident animated skeleton and my roommate, poked his head around the corner. "Ivy," he drawled in his crisp British accent, "it says on your calendar Holly is coming by today."

He made his voice nonchalant. I dipped my head to hide a grin before I looked up at him. The worst kept secret in this house was his crush on my sister. When he knew she was coming over, he'd dress up in a bow tie and a top hat. Skeletons were frightening enough, but there was something macabre about a walking skeleton in a soap shop dressed like he's Fred Astaire.

"She had to cancel," I said as I tugged on a pair of protective goggles. "Something about having to watch the twins."

Harry's icy blue orbs in his eyes sockets flared orange in surprise. "Ava and Archer? She's made amends?"

I bit back a smile at his antiquated expression. "I don't know what, if any, amends were made, but it appears the two of them put aside their differences for the children."

"Well," Harry mused. "That's nice to hear. She so loves them."

"That she does." I mixed in several tablespoons of olive oil into my mix and slipped a mask over my nose and mouth. I upgraded my protective equipment recently after I'd poured in the mix too quickly and a cloud of the resulting dust made it into my lungs and kept me coughing for a week. The respirator I had now kept about 98% of the particles out, and I made sure to be even more careful when working with the fine particles.

Harry clomped into the shop and peered down at the bowl. "What's this?"

He didn't often show interest in new products, and when he did, I tried to explain them as thoroughly as possible. "I wanted to make something for the immune system."

He didn't have any brows, but if he had, they would have risen. "For illness? How does that work with your power? Isn't it emotion only?"

I shrugged. "Sure, but our emotions are intertwined with our immunity. When we're fearful or stressed or anxious, it can lower our immunity resulting in illness. The perfect diet to prevent a cold is rest, a healthy diet, lots of water, sunshine, and to reduce our stress as much as possible."

Harry watched intently as I measured out equal amounts of eucalyptus, lemon, and lavender. I wrote the recipe down a couple of weeks ago meaning to make it, but the shop had been busier than usual so I'd just now gotten to it. But as I stirred everything, my hand was drawn to the Frankincense oil, so I picked it up and added some of that, too.

"Interesting choice," Harry mused.

"We'll see what it smells like when I'm finished," I said, amusement coloring my tone. I did a lot of my recipes intuitively, though I had many tried and true ones I never messed with. Usually it came out alright, but there'd been a few times when I made a good product that smelled like toe fungus.

"Let's hope," Harry said. By his tone, I know he remembered those failures too.

"I'll hide the mixture under your bed if you make fun of me," I warned, though my tone was joking.

Harry scoffed. "I'll get out of your hair." He started to clomp away, his bony feet making heavy noises across the tile of the floor. Just before he disappeared, he asked, "Did Holly reschedule?" His tone was light and relaxed, but I could sense the anticipation in his voice.

"Not yet." I let him down gently. "She's got her hands full at the Broom and Bloom right now.

Harry sniffed. "It's probably a good thing. If she saw the state of that orchid she gave you, she'd be appalled. I'm going to tell her you hid it next time she comes over."

I pointed at the door. "Out."

Harry's cackling laughter followed him as he left.

Said orchid drooped sadly out of the corner of my vision. No matter what I did, I couldn't make things grow like my sister did. All she had to do was walk into a place and any greenery there would perk right up. If she touched something, the plants would burst with new life and blooms. I had somewhat of a brown thumb and could only grow the simplest of things. I both loved and hated when my sister came over and messed with my plants. On one hand it meant I'd have gorgeous plants and beautiful orchids for a while, but it also made me feel like a terrible plant mom.

From the state of the orchid, I knew which way it leaned. "She'll be here in a few days," I promised the flower right before I bent my head back to the bath bombs to concentrate on the hard part. Infusing it with the right amount of magic to be gentle and soothing.

Any emotion if felt strongly enough could be jarring. When I first started making soap, I experimented on myself and my family. I cringed every time I thought about the happiness lotion I made and the awkward dinner that followed when Rose and Holly couldn't stop laughing. It turned into tears because their cheeks ached from being unable to stop smiling. After that and a couple of other disastrous mishaps, Mom had forced me to practice on myself or her before I let my sisters use anything else.

Since I didn't want Mom mad at me, I got a lot more careful with my formulations.

I bent over the bowl, closed my eyes, and took the gloves off my hands so I could soak the mix with magic.

Sam, the local librarian and most eligible bachelor in Moonmist, leaned against my counter frowning at me. "Well why not?" he demanded.

I rolled my eyes. "Because. It takes soap forever to cure and I don't have enough to sell for a festival."

"It's not a festival," Sam said for the hundredth time.

I kept calling it a festival because I knew it annoyed him. The Moonmist Springs annual Fall Fair was coming up in a couple of weeks. It would be snowing by then. Most people couldn't predict the weather, and neither could I, but Rose, my sister, was one of the resident weather witches in town. She always told me when we could expect snow because she knew how much I loved it. Usually, snow only happened for two weeks out of the year, but I'd just gotten wind of a petition to make it snow for the entire holiday season.

Within reason, of course. No one wanted a soggy, wet mess. I thought it could be a great idea. Having a white Christmas was right up my alley.

"I don't have the stock," I told Sam. He'd been hounding me about this fair for the last few weeks and I'd repeatedly told him no. "You keep asking, hoping for a different answer. I'm not going to give you one." I eyed him and opened up my senses just a hair. I tried not to do that too much with my friends and family because I respected their privacy, but Sam had been just a little too insistent on me participating in this thing and now I was curious why.

Apprehension rolled off of him in waves. Something else too... excitement?

He gasped. "Cheater!"

I cringed but laughed. "You gave me no choice! What's going on? Why are you so adamant about this?"

My face glowed a little when I used my magic. I never realized it until Sloane, Moonmist Springs' resident necromancer, told me once.

He shrugged but looked away. "It's just I think you could benefit from showing this town how talented you are."

I blushed. "You're lying." He'd hidden it under a careful compliment, but he still wasn't telling me the truth.

Sam laughed and held his hands up. "I'm not lying."

At my look, he shook his head. "Not about that. But there is another reason."

I tilted my head. "Spill," I demanded.

He looked around the shop.

"It's the slow part of the day. We're the only ones in here. Spill the beans, Sam."

He tucked his hands into the pocket of his lightweight jacket and shuffled his feet. Finally, he huffed a breath. "Fine. I overheard several people talking at the library a few days ago."

My eyebrows rose. "And?"

His gaze shifted away from me. "And... they think you think you're too good for this place."

My mouth fell open. "Excuse me?"

He took a step away. "I'm just the messenger."

"I don't understand what this has to do with me attending the festival."

"If you came and participated in more town events and let people get to know you..."

A surprised laugh came from me. "I am worth knowing." Anger made my cheeks flush. "This is ridiculous," I snapped. "I'm just coming off a murder case and I'm trying to run a new shop! I'm sorry if I don't have time for events in town, but -"

Sam interrupted me. "Ivy. This isn't coming from me." His amber eyes softened. "I know you. You're worth knowing. Of course you are. But there are some people here who think you aren't a team player."

"Of course I'm not a team player. I didn't even know this town had teams rather than Team Moonmist." I slapped his change down on the counter and shoved it over to him.

"These are powerful women," he cautioned me.

I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and met his concerned gaze. "I am a twenty-six year old independent woman. If I want friends, I go out and make them. If I wanted a boyfriend, I'd open myself up to the possibility. I am not in high school, nor am I going to cave to the whims of some women in town who think I'm not worthy to live here!"

"Ivy -"

"I think it's time for you to leave," I said and gently pushed his bag over. Sam liked the Happy Home blend and kept it in a dish in his bathroom until the scent wore out. I thought it was a waste, but he said he didn't have to use it on his skin for it to work.

Sam sighed, his jaw clenched, and took his bag. "I just think you should consider it," he said.

I pointed at the door without another word. Sam's shoulders slumped as he turned away from me and headed out of the shop.

Of all the things to happen today to ruin my mood, I never would have expected something like that. Coming back to Moonmist hadn't been easy for me. I'd stayed away as long as I could, but once Dad passed away, it felt like something called me back here. Opening The Suds Stop had cemented my place in town. Or so I thought.

Knowing there were people here who didn't feel like I belonged here felt like a sucker punch. Sam was only trying to help, but I couldn't help but feel a little angry at him too. I should have asked him who they were so I could see if they'd ever come by the store. It would be just like someone to judge another without ever taking a moment to say hello.

The bell over the door rang as someone pushed their way in. A harried, young brunette gave me a weary smile. She held a cherub cheeked little boy who wore an adorable little newsboy hat. I gasped at his cuteness and offered the woman a welcoming smile.

"Would you like a glass of London Fog?" I asked as I came around the counter to the industrial size tea pot I had set up. This was heavier than my usual offering of herbal tea, but when I first came across the blend, I couldn't resist snatching it up. The main blend was an Earl Grey, but it had been mixed with lavender and vanilla. The scent of it made me feel like I was sitting in a cafe in Paris, bundled up and watching people go by.

"Is that what I'm smelling?" the woman asked as she hitched her son up higher on her hip.

I nodded and poured her a steaming cup. "Would you like cream and sugar?"

"I'd love it."

I doctored up her coffee based on her mood - a little frazzled, a little excited - and touched the outside of the cup to suffused it with a little bit of relaxation before I put the lid on it and handed it to her. "Enjoy. Are you here for anything special?"

She shook her head. "Just looking today. I'm staying with my mom for a while and she recommended this place."

"Oh, great! Who's your mom?"

"Her name is Moira Cooper. She lives back in the woods." She snorted. "Like a fairytale witch."

"A lot of us live like that here," I said with a chuckle. Not wanting to go too in depth on how my products worked just in case she was either a non-believer or had no idea magic was real, I simply nodded at her. "Let me know if you have any questions about anything. I'll be happy to help."

"Thank you." She gratefully took the cup from me, sipped, and closed her eyes and sighed. "I needed this today. I'm Jenny, by the way."

"Ivy." I smiled in greeting. "A cup of tea can cure a lot of ills." With that, I left her to her shopping and headed back over to work on some new recipe notes. Magic in Moonmist wasn't difficult to spot, but some people were so resistant to it, Harry could dance a jig in town square and someone would look around for a hidden camera or special effects equipment.

If someone didn't want to believe in magic, they'd never see it in their day-to-day lives. I didn't know what side Jenny fell on, so I erred on the side of caution. I watched Jenny and the child for a moment, scrubbed annoyed thoughts about Sam out of my head, and turned my attention to the body oil recipe I'd been trying in vain to create for months now.

Chapter Two

The day ended with sore feet and an overwhelming urge for a long soak in my tub. Lacey, my cute little bundle of energy, bounded into the shop when Harry opened the door for her. Sometimes I loved having my business attached to my home. Other times I had trouble separating work from play. I rarely allowed Lacey into the shop simply because of dog hair and her boundless energy. Her tail wagging felt forceful enough to smack things right off their display areas.

I bent down and Lacey rushed right into a joyful hug. I turned my head just at the last moment so she wouldn't crash into my face and buried my nose into her soft, sable fur. "Hey you," I said quietly.

Her butt wiggled excitedly and she bounded away from me and put her face down and her butt up in the air.

I laughed. "Alright. Let me get my coat."

Harry leaned against the doorjam.

"You coming?" I asked.

His bony shoulder lifted into a shrug. "I suppose. We have been cooped up all day."

"Come on then," I said, tugging my hands into my soft gloves. "The exercise will do you good."

Harry snorted. "Oh yes. Must protect the heart and arteries I don't have."

I tapped my brain. "It's good for your mental energy." Lacey followed behind as I went over to hold open the back door. "We both know how much of that you have."

Harry grunted and followed the dog out. "Still don't have a brain," he grumbled.

"It's a metaphorical metaphysical muscle. Besides, you know you feel better when you've had some fresh air."

Harry didn't say anything, but I caught his blue eyes lightening when Lacey picked up a stick twice as big as her and ran through the backyard like she'd just won the Olympics.

We tossed a ball back and forth to Lacey for a while and when she'd tuckered out and collapsed at our feet, Harry and I sat in the back and listened to the leaves rustle in the trees. Moonmist had a magical air to it. I never felt anything but at peace when I sat back here, minus the time Harry and I found a body in the back. We both did our best to put that behind us, but sometimes my gaze would stray over to that spot and my thoughts would linger in an uncomfortable spot.

On one hand, my life became richer after that happened, which sounds like a weird thing to say, but Sam and I became closer, and I'd met Sloane - the town's new necromancer. We were slowly building a friendship, but he - like most necromancers - was aloof and difficult to get to know. I'd seen another side of him as we worked the case. Well... I'd mostly interfered with his investigation, so worked might be a tad of an over exaggeration. I liked what I'd seen and I felt glad he'd chosen to come to Moonmist to serve with the police.

Not many necromancers existed and I'd never met another. Everything I knew about them, I'd learned in books or from Sloane. Not many chose to serve and protect either, which was another mark in the good category for Sloane. There was a lot of money rolled up in some of the darker deeds necromancers could perform, but he'd chosen the light.

"So," Harry said as the silence lingered. "Heard anything from Kramer?"

Sometimes I wondered if he could read my mind. "Not over the last few days." Sloane and I weren't close enough to keep tabs on each other. He could be in Tahiti for all I knew.

Harry touched the glowing orb he wore around his neck. He'd had the thing for a few months now - a gift from Sloane when he realized Harry couldn't always leave the property. He could if I was with him, but the magic felt spotty at best and downright dysfunctional at worst.

There'd been one worrisome moment when we'd first met each other when I walked off the edge of the property and he'd collapsed into a pile of bones. I thought he'd died, though I couldn't wrap my head around how an animate skeleton could actually die, but he'd come back to life after I gathered up his bones and put them on top of my soaping table. He'd darn near given me a heart attack.

We'd ventured out much later after that and he'd been okay, but Sloane made it so he could go anywhere he wanted to in town. Harry still didn't like to leave the house, though. I'd seen him venture out into the back and stick one foot over the property line just to see if he could do it, but he rarely asked to go anywhere or do anything.

I was working on him about it. A lot of people knew who he was and where he lived, but much of Moonmist had never seen him. When I mentioned this, he'd gotten huffy about it and proclaimed he wasn't a circus act. I couldn't argue with him, but I did mention, he was the only animate skeleton most of us would ever see. He didn't speak to me for two days after that.

Guess he was grumpy about his lack of skin.

"Harry?" I tapped my nails on the arm of the wooden lounge chair.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think I'm likable?" I carefully didn't look at him, keeping my gaze straight, but I felt his stare on the side of my face as he studied me.

"And where is this coming from?" he asked. I noticed he didn't answer the question.

"Someone mentioned they overheard some people talking about me."

"Ah," Harry said. Had he already heard rumors? How? He never left the house!

I gave him side eye. "Why do you sound like you already know this?"

"Sam stopped by a few days ago when you were out grocery shopping."

"And you didn't think to mention it?" I gaped at him.

He studied his bony fingers. "What good will idle gossip do me, Ivy? I'm merely a bag of bones with no friends."

I snorted. "Laying it on thick, aren't you?"

He sniffed. "I don't gossip about you, Ivy. What do you care if old biddies are talking about you in the town square?"

"I noticed you didn't answer my question, Harry."

He scoffed. "Who cares if you're likable? You're kind, successful, and you make a mean bar of soap. Plus," he wiggled his bony fingers. "You're magical."

"So you don't think I'm nice?" I squirmed as I realized I wished he'd say something nice.

"Oh for goodness' sake. Of course I think you're nice." He said the word like someone salted his tongue. "Just because I'm a skeleton doesn't mean I'm comfortable talking about my feelings."

"Thanks, Harry."

His eyes glowed orange. "Besides," he sniffed, "can those women claim they singlehandedly solved a murder? Probably not. In the game of popularity, Ivy, I think you're winning."

I didn't care to win. I just didn't like being the target of gossip. "Do you think I should try to track them down? They don't think I'm a team player."

"Well," said Harry as he pushed the chair back and forth with his bony foot. "How do they know you aren't a team player if they've never invited you to the game?"

A smile pulled at my face.

"Don't go getting all maudlin on me, Ivy. Or I'll take it all back."

I grinned at him. "You liiiiikeee me," I sang.

Harry rolled his eyes and got up from the chair. I laughed as he walked back to the house and let the screen door slam shut behind him.

I went back into the house maybe half an hour later and called out for him, but he didn't answer. Maybe still grumpy at my teasing. I shrugged and bent down to pat Lacey on the head.

"You hungry girl?"

She barked at me and ran in a circle chasing her tail.

"That would be a yes."

After feeding Lacey, I fixed myself a sandwich and sat in front of the television for a while watching some random nature show to relax me. Harry still hadn't come around and it was getting late, so I tried to call for him one more time. When he didn't answer, I realized I must have hurt his feelings with my teasing. I knocked on his door, but when he didn't answer, I gave up and headed to bed

I'd smooth things out in the morning.

Chapter Three

My phone rang, jarring me out of a restful sleep. I blinked and rolled over, trying to make the alarm clock come into focus. I hated waking up like that, so I fumbled for the phone ready to toss it across the room when the name on the screen gave me pause. I blinked down at it and slid the button over.

"Sloane?" I had no idea what time it was but my room was pitch dark.

"Ivy." Sloane had the best voice. Deep and warm and made me feel girlish in a way I hadn't felt in years. Like he would protect me if I needed him to.

I sat straight up. "Is everything okay?"

Sloane didn't say anything for a moment. When he did, he let out a soft sigh. "I'm afraid not. I'm going to need you to come by."

"Where? Why would you need me?" Panic beat at me. "Is it Holly or Rose? Did something happen?" I couldn’t stop asking questions. I put my hand over my heart and sucked in a breath.

"They're both fine. It's Harry I'm concerned about."

"Harry?" I slid my feet off the bed, wincing as they missed the slippers I kept out and touched the cold ground. "He's in his room." As I said it, I realized I didn't actually know where he was. He hadn't answered me when I knocked.

"There's only one animate skeleton in all of Moonmist, Ivy, and I'm staring at him. Come as soon as you can." He rattled off an address.

"But -"

Sloane clicked off the line.

What in the world had Harry gotten himself into?

I dressed quickly in a pair of wide-legged lounge pants and a long, warm sweater. I slid my feet into a pair of flexible sneakers, slapped a hat on my dark, unruly hair, and rushed out the door, grabbing my purse on the way.

Harry sat on the curb, his head in his hands. The orb around his neck glowed a soft blue. I slid out the car I hadn't quite been able to put up for sale yet and headed over to him. He didn't look up at my approach, but Sloane called my name right before I got to him.

I stopped and turned toward his voice. My heart, already beating fast, picked up its pace as I saw him. Sloane Kramer had a dark handsomeness to him. His dark hair looked unbrushed and yet it gave him a rakish air. His eyes glowed amber in both the dim light and as a result of his inherent magic. He wore a pair of dark jeans and a henley shirt. A scarf was bundled around his neck and he wore a lightweight jacket. He once told me he didn't get cold too often because his magic kept the chill of the grave close at all times. It had made me shudder and I'd never forgotten it.

I walked faster to reach him and stopped when I was only a foot away. "What happened?" Red and blue ambulance lights swirled around us, casting an oddly patriotic glow on the buildings around us. Several police cars lined up on the curb, one with its lights on as well. I looked right past his shoulder and my heart caught in my throat.

A murder. He'd brought me to the scene of another murder. My brow furrowed and I looked over at Harry who hadn't moved an inch since I'd arrived. I looked back at Sloane and it slowly began to dawn on my why I was here.

"No." I shook my head. "Impossible."

Sloane let out a soft sigh. "Ivy," he began.

I leaned forward and lowered my voice. "You and I both know Harry didn't kill anyone. Is that why I'm here and Harry is sitting over there like someone kidnapped his dog?"

The look on his face told me all i needed to know. "Ridiculous," I muttered under my breath. "He's a skeleton, Sloane."

"He's an animated skeleton and powered by unknown magic," Sloane began. "Who knows who's controlling it."

"It?" My eyebrows rose. "Is that what Harry is now? An it?"

His jaw clenched as he looked away from me. "We found Harry peering down at the body when we arrived. He was unresponsive to questions from authorities."

Harry still hadn't looked up. "That doesn't mean he killed anyone."

"But it does look suspicious." Sloane closed his notepad and led me away from the scene and over to Harry. "I'll need you both to come with me so he can answer some questions."

Harry finally looked up. His eyes were the deepest blue I'd ever seen. Sympathy filled me and I sat down beside him and touched his bony knee. "Are you okay?"

He shook his head, the grinning visage a macabre sight in the dim night and the strobing ambulance light. "I don't know what came over me, Ivy. It was like I blacked out for a moment. Suddenly I found myself standing over someone I'd never seen and Kramer there poking me like I was an insect in a petri dish."

Sloane nodded. "I can confirm. He was bent over staring down at the woman, not moving an inch. It took physical touch to snap him out of it."

"Did anyone else try?" I wondered aloud.

"To rouse him?"

At my nod, Sloane frowned as if he followed my logic. "Actually, yes. Carey is here. He approached him first."

Carey was a staple of the police department and had been for as long as I could remember. We had a good relationship. His little girl was a few months old now and beamed like a little ray of sunshine. As if he heard his name, Carey bounded over to us.

"Ivy," he said, his gaze not meeting mine. Instead he frowned at Harry.

"How's Suzie?" I asked.

A smile broke free from the concerned look on his face. "She's wonderful. Little Harper is doing amazing too. She likes to eat her toes."

I laughed quietly. A crime scene didn't feel like the best place to be happy, but that image would make anyone smile. "I'm glad. And the soap I gave you?"

"Works like a charm. All the guys with babies are jealous of how well Harper sleeps but I can't get them to visit your shop. They grumble about it being a chick place."

"When they get tired of not sleeping, maybe they'll change their mind," I said. Carey didn't know about Harry, so this was an odd way to get to know him, so I just broke the awkwardness by pointing at Harry. "This is Harry. I found him when I inherited the shop. No idea how he's alive, but he is." A rueful smile crossed my face. "And since we're sitting here instead of curled up toasty in our beds, it also means he's a suspect, right?"

Carey nodded. "I'm sorry, Ivy. Although I wouldn't call him a suspect yet. We did find him in a rather compromising position."

"Sloane says you tried to rouse him and he wouldn't respond?"

Carey nodded, a frown touching his lips. "Weirdest thing. He didn't move or even react. As soon as Sloane touched his arm, he snapped out of it and seemed surprised to see all the fuss."

Harry snorted. "When he means fuss, he means me being surrounded with policeman holding guns in my face."

Carey smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Well, we walked onto a scene straight out of a horror film, so please excuse our tendency to not ask questions."

The skeleton rolled his eyes. "I beg your pardon. A horror movie? I'll have you know I'm a man of letters!"

I touched Harry's arm. "Not the time." I leaned in. "And Carey doesn't care. We need to figure this out as soon as possible."

Being involved in another murder hadn't been on my to-do list this week, but you know the old saying about making plans, don't you?

Someone a lot more powerful than me was laughing their head off right now.

Chapter Four

The Moonmist Police Department didn't look like much from the outside. We'd never had a large police force because most of us policed ourselves. Of course, we had the occasional crime, but it was usually petty and involved mischief rather than the actual intent of harm. That had all changed with the missing box of lye and the death of Michael Harper, but we still didn't have a full force on staff. Since most of us were magical, it took a lot of effort to get away with a crime. Some of us could sense each other's magic, but it mostly came down to effort. Was it worth the effort or was it easier just turning the other cheek?

Most of us turned the other cheek because very few of us ever set out to intentionally harm someone. Sloane had just come to town when the murder happened. What an odd welcome to Moonmist.

We walked in with Sloane and Carey behind us. I greeted the frosty receptionist - the same woman as last time. Her gaze lingered on me even as we walked away, but I'd noticed her gaze lingered even more on Sloane.

None of my business, I told myself, as I let him lead us into a small room. This felt like every television show I'd ever watched. One small metal table with three chairs. A large two way mirror and grey paint.

"I love the decor," Harry quipped as he helped himself to a chair.

I stifled a sigh and sat beside him. "Do you have any coffee?" I asked Carey.

"I'll get it for you," Sloane said instead. The door shut behind him and we were left with the other officer who couldn't take his eyes off Harry.

"I confess," Carey said after a moment. "I've seen a lot of strange things in this town, but I've never seen anything quite like you."

"Yes," Harry said, his voice dry as ancient paper, "I'm a regular specimen, aren't I?"

"Flies. Honey," I whispered to Harry. I glared at my friend before I smiled at Carey. "Sorry. He gets extra cranky if he doesn't get enough sleep at night."

"I'm an animate -" Harry protested.

I laid a warning hand on his knee under the table. "The magic animating him is strange. Sometimes he's up for an all-night sleepover. Other times, he's like a toddler crying about his bedtime." I shrugged. "Living with him is always interesting." Lying to the police felt a little icky to me, but something about Carey’s behavior felt off to me.

"I bet," Carey said, his eyes examining every inch of Harry. The scrutiny he studied him with worried me.

"Everything okay?" I asked lightly.

He blinked. "Sure." Carey pushed himself off the wall and left us without saying another word.

For some reason I couldn’t put my finger on, his words left me little comfort.

Chapter Four

Sloane came back in the room balancing three cups of steaming coffee. He set them on the table in front of us and gave us a sheepish smile.

"It's terrible, but it's hot. If you work here long enough, you get used to it."

I never did understand drinking bad coffee. It came down to a few things. Good beans. Good water. A good brewer. But it was early as all get out and I could barely keep my eyes open. I understood it now. Curled steam rose above the cup and I took it gratefully. I bent my nose over it, inhaled, and grimaced.

Harry did the same thing. "I swear. Is this mop water?" he griped.

"Beggars can't be choosers," I said lightly. "More importantly, murder suspects can't be choosy."

Sloane laughed but coughed to try to cover it up. "Listen, Harry. I need you to start from the beginning and tell me exactly what you remember. Leave nothing out."

A long and aggrieved sigh came from the skeleton. He took a sip of his coffee and, like always, I stared at him in fascination. Where it went I had no idea. He shouldn't be able to eat or drink anything and yet here he was, guzzling coffee that disappeared into thin air. Did it provide sustenance? Considering where I found him at when I first discovered him, I knew he didn't have to eat or drink. I think he just enjoyed it. Sloane stared as well, his eyes narrowed a little as he watched the liquid vanish before his eyes.

Harry crossed his ankle bone over his knee bone. Every time I saw him move, I marveled at the human body. The skeletal system was a weird, complex thing. "Let's see," he drawled. "I was at home, annoyed at Ivy."

I swallowed a smile.

"I thought it would be nice to get a breath of fresh air once she'd come back inside." His gaze slid over to me. "I wasn't quite finished with my outdoor recreation time when you so rudely insulted me."

"It's not a prison," I muttered. "You can go outside any time you want."

He sniffed. "Well, you weren't making it all that welcoming for me, were you?"

Sloane cleared his throat. His eyes twinkled. I shook my head and sipped my coffee, impatiently waiting for him to continue.

"So I go back outside and I'm walking around the perimeter of the property and I see something strange out of the corner of my eye. When I turned to locate it, I couldn't find it anymore."

"What did it look like?" Sloane inquired.

"Did you just hear me? I said out of the corner of my eye. I certainly didn't see it." Scorn dripped from his words.

Sloane leaned forward, tapping his pen on his open notepad. "You can get snippy with me if you want, Skeletor, but I'm the only thing standing between you and a prison cell."

I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing at the Skeleton comment.

"And just remember what I am and what I do. If there's anyone around here that can de-animate you, it would be me." He sat back and resumed his casual posture, but Harry straightened and stared at Sloane for a long moment. His eyes flared orange and a thick and heavy silence fell in the room.

Although I didn't like the way it happened, Harry probably needed to hear Sloane's words. He did have an arrogance to him that got annoying sometimes. But this wasn't something simple or unimportant. I'd been dragged in here in the middle of the night because of murder suspicion.

"Right," Harry said after a moment. "My apologies."

Harry apologized? My eyebrows rose and I risked a glance at Sloane. To his credit, his expression remained mild.

"Continue," he encouraged with a wave of his hand.

"Ah." Harry shifted in his seat. "Whatever it was, it flared gold. Like a warm light." He shivered, making his bones rattled the metal table and chair. I felt like it wanted me to follow it. I kept trying to catch it with my eyes, but it remained just out of reach. So I started walking toward it."

"Off Ivy's property?" Sloane asked, scribbling notes in his book.

Harry nodded. "I must have walked a mile or two trying to catch it - in and out of the woods. I finally made it into town and didn't realize where I was until I heard brakes screech."

I shut my eyes for a moment and tried not to say what I was thinking. A lot of the townspeople knew he was here, but we didn't have only regulars here. Moonmist drew a lot of tourists. If there was anything to be thankful for, it was the fact that Halloween had just passed. If anyone saw him, maybe they thought he just wanted to wear his skeleton costume again.

"I tried to stay to the darker alleyways and woods and eventually wound up where you found me." One of his bony shoulders lifted. "I guess. I don't remember much once I got into town."

"Did you touch anything?" Sloane asked.

Harry's eyes lightened to crystal blue and swirled. "Like what?"

"I don't know. Anything unusual? Did you see anything other than the golden light or sense anyone following you?"

Harry shook his head. "Not that I remember. Though I'm sure you'll have a tough time gathering fingerprints if I did."

I snorted. "Good one, Harry."

"I try. Sometimes not having skin works in my favor."

Sloane sighed. "Alright, you two." He studied his notes. "So you don't remember anything once you made it to where we found you?"

"Not a thing," Harry confirmed. "Though my memory cuts out once I get pretty close to where you found me. I don't remember anything unusual or touching anything strange."

"Do you remember seeing the body?" Sloane asked.

"No. Once I got there it became a blank slate. I don't even remember arriving."

Sloane jotted something down. Harry craned his neck to peer at it, but Sloane concealed his writing with his arm. "Do you know the person?"

Harry's eyes darkened. His equivalent of a blink, usually. "Can't say that I do. I don't get out much, though."

"Do you have a picture of her?" I asked.

Sloane shook his head. "Not yet. I'm waiting on crime scene photos. Although you may not want to see them when I have one."

"If I can be of any help, I'd like to try. I know a lot of people around here."

"I only know them from the shop, and that's if I come out to say hi. It freaks people out to see me, so unless I know them, I tend to stay in the back."

Sloane took a sip of his coffee and clicked his pen shut a moment later. "Have you felt okay lately?"

Harry looked at me and back to Sloane. "I'm a skeleton. As far as I know, I don't have a central nervous or digestive system. So I guess I feel fine?" he said it like a question, but his voice sounded strange.

"Harry? You can tell us the truths," I urged.

Harry sighed. "I mean, I don't know I guess. I feel like... not whole. That's every day. But I never feel sick." He sat back in his chair, his hands steepled together over his knees. But something has been bothering me for about a week now. An urge to leave." He unclasped his hands and tapped his index finger on the metal table. "It's weird, right? I've been bound here for so long that it feels like my home, but something is encouraging me to come here - in the middle of town in Moonmist."

"And do something?" Sloane asked.

"No. Just to be here. It's the strangest thing. Like I'm being called by something more powerful than me."

I stared at him, concerned. "You could have told me."

Harry snorted. "Like you don't have a thousand other things going on right now."

"That may be true, but I always have time for you."

Harry looked at me then, his eye sockets flaring with orange. I'd surprised him. "I'm serious, Harry. I'm your... guardian something, but more than that I'm your friend." I paused. "Aren't I?"

Sloane leaned back from the table, quiet as we worked through this.

Harry's skeletal mouth opened for a moment then shut with a clack. "Well," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I suppose you are then." He ducked his head. "I'm sorry, Ivy."

"It's okay." I suppressed my hurt feelings. I fed and housed Harry and never gave him any grief about it because he couldn't help whatever had been done to him. "We can finish talking about it later. Just know you could have told me. And you can tell me things in the future."

Sloane closed his notebook. "You're free to go." He nodded at Harry. "If you can step out for a second, I'd like to chat with Ivy for a brief moment. She'll be right out."

Harry nodded and walked out of the room, his bony feet making a terrible racket against the cold tile floor. When he shut the door, Sloane let out a long sigh.

"You think this is magic." I didn't wait for him to tell me. I suspected magic to.

He nodded. "I think it's my kind of magic."

My eyebrows shot up. "Necromancy?"

"Yes. Carey couldn't rouse him from whatever spell he was under. It was only when I touched him that he came to."

"Necromancers aren't common, Sloane. Wouldn't you know if one of them had arrived?"

Sloane laughed, his eyes crinkling at the edges. His handsomeness always made me a little weak in the knees, but when he smiled... I felt lost. "We don't have a network or way to find each other. We sense when someone has used their magic if they're close, but other than that, we could have an entire network of necromancers and I wouldn't know it unless they raised the grave a few feet away from me."

I frowned. "Well. This doesn't sound good."

"Has Sam made any leeway into Harry's origins?"

Sam and Sloane were less alike than any two people I'd ever met but they got along pretty well. "Harry won't tell Sam much about himself. He thinks Harry might be a trapped spirit instead of a soul. If he is and Sam releases him, he could be dangerous."

Sloane's brow furrowed in thought. "Spirits can possess people."

I nodded. "And they're pure magic. Energy. If someone is able to control him, maybe they're trying to lure him into a trap so they can siphon his magic away."

"I don't know if it would be that easy. Harry is aware of what's going on now. I don't think they'll take him so easily again."

"What about this?" I asked, referring to the murder.

"It doesn't look great where we found him, but there's no weapon and Harry was squeaky clean when we found him. No blood, no nothing. It's suspicious that he was standing over her."

"Do you know who it is yet?"

Sloane shook his head. "We should know tonight."

"Can you tell how she died?"

Sloane snorted. "You know I couldn't tell you even if I did."

A sigh escaped me. "I only want to help," I protested.

"Your help almost got you killed last time."

"Yes, but it put a killer away, didn't it?"

Sloane frowned at me and stood. "We aren't doing this again, Ivy. You nearly gave me a heart attack last time. This is between Harry and the police department. I only called you in because Harry seemed so despondent and we aren't really sure how to handle a skeleton suspect. I think soon we'll get it figured out and Harry will be able to come on his own."

"I'm his guardian," I protested.

Sloane rolled his eyes and held the door open. "You and I both know Harry is probably hundreds of years old. And there's no guardianship rules over spirits."

"There should be," I grumbled.

Sloane gestured for me to come out and I groaned as I stood. "You need more comfortable chairs."

"For criminals?" he said. "I don't think so. Bring a pillow next time."

I huffed and followed him out and down the hall where Harry stood leaning against the wall. He looked deep in thought. Just before I could say anything, Sloane called out, "Hey, how old are you, Harry?"

To my utter surprise, Harry responded and immediately looked like he'd swallowed a frog once he realized the info he'd given. "Three hundred and forty-five."

I gasped.

Sloane chuckled. "See there, Ivy? He's definitely no minor."

"You play dirty pool," I muttered under my breath. "Completely unfair."

"All's fair in a murder investigation." Sloane gave me a jaunty little salute and turned around to head back to his office leaving me staring in stunned silence at Harry. The skeleton who'd been alive since sixteen freaking hundred six forty six.

Chapter Five

We rode back to the house in silence. When i pulled into the driveway and turned off the car, I turned to Harry.

"I'm going to ask you so many questions about history."

Harry gave a long suffering sigh. "And this is exactly why I didn't tell anyone."

"What else do you know about yourself?"

Harry's eyes darkened. "Not much." He shook his head. "That question. I couldn't have told anyone the answer. It was the way he asked it. Or something..." He seemed disturbed by the power Sloane held over him.

"It has to be his power," Harry said, his voice quiet and unsettled. He turned to me, his eyes bright orange. "Is that what happened today? Did someone with his power try to lure me downtown for nefarious reasons?"

I laughed. "Nefarious? I'm not so sure, Harry. Maybe. Maybe not."

"Well, I'm glad you think it's hilarious, Ivy, but they found me standing over a dead woman!"

I sobered. "Yes, well, I'm aware. And it's not funny." I glanced at him sideways. "Are you sure you don't know who she is?"

His shoulders fell. "I've never seen her in my life."

"Your long, long, loooong, life," I said with a snort.

Harry got out of the car. "Your jokes are unappreciated right now."

"You never appreciate my jokes," I called as I slid out of the driver's seat. "Your sense of humor is older than you are, apparently." I couldn't wait to use my best you so old jokes on him.

I jogged past him and up the stairs to the front door. Right by the door rested a package. The dim glow of the porch light glinted off the silver wrapped package. A neat emerald green bow rested on top of it with a handwritten label.

I bent down to pick it up.

"Ivy!" Harry called.

I turned back to see and my hand touched the package.

"No!" the skeleton screamed.

Everything flared in a white hot flash of light. I gasped in surprise and fell to my knees. My hand felt like it was on fire. A moan of pain escaped me. Nausea roiled in me and my knees went weak. Cold sweat formed on the back of my neck right before my vision went black.

Something shook my shoulder. I groaned and tried to open my eyes but couldn't get them to work.

"Ivy?" The voice sounded warm and friendly and familiar.

"Ivy." Another shoulder nudge. "Are you okay?"

I shifted and gasped in pain.

Two strong hands held me gently. "Don't try to move."

"Sloane?" I asked. I opened my eyes but everything was blurry.

"Yes. Hold on. The paramedics are on the way. I just got here before they did."

"I don't need the paramedics."

"You do," Harry said to the left of me. "Don't you even think about arguing with me."

"What happened?" I licked my lips and grimaced at how dry my mouth was. Weird. I hadn't been out for long if the ambulance hadn't arrived yet.

"The package," Harry said, his voice full of anger. "Something is wrong with it."

"Obviously," I croaked. "But what?"

"I think it was meant for me," Harry said.

Sloane grunted. "It had your name on it," he agreed. "Any reason why someone would be after you?"

Harry fell silent.

My eyes finally focused. I blinked up at the skeleton. "This is important. If someone is after you, we can't help you if you don't tell us why." Before he spoke, I held up a weak hand. "You don't have to tell us everything. Just enough for us to understand why someone might be trying to harm you."

"That spell wasn't to harm him," Sloane said slowly.

I sat up and groaned in pain. Pressing the edge of my palm against my pounding head, I scooted up and rested against the headboard of my bed. I blinked. Sloane was in my bedroom?

Ugh. I'd think about it later.

"How do you know?" I asked him.

"That magic is familiar to me," Sloane explained. "Very familiar. It's how I trap lost souls and put them to rest."

"Someone is trying to trap me," Harry confirmed. "To what means I don't know. Regardless, that package had a spell encased in the wrapping paper. I suppose they thought I'd be the one to find it."

And normally he would have. Harry loved checking the mail. Every time he saw the postman pull up, he got a little giddy about it and waited impatiently by the door for him to drive away so he could step up and gather any packages we'd received that day.

Sloane gave him a contemplative look. "Does Harry normally get the mail?"

I nodded. "It's rare for me to collect it. Harry usually waits for it every day and brings it in."

"And who could resist a pretty present like that?" Sloane wondered aloud.

I glanced at Harry curious about something. "How did you know to warn me?"

"Magic beat off it," he explained. "I felt it as soon as I got within a few feet of it."

Curiosity made Sloane's eyes narrow. "You can feel magic?"

Harry shrugged. "I can. It's an odd experience. Everyone’s magic has a different feel to it."

"He can smell it sometimes, too," I added. I didn't know he could feel it, but occasionally he would remark about how something smelled. I don't think he realized I knew it was the magic.

Harry blinked in surprise. 'Yes, that's right."

Sloane straightened from the bed, though he didn't move far away. “Interesting.”

Harry sat in the chair across the room and plopped his head in his hands. I rarely could tell what he was thinking because he was nothing but bones, but his eyes swirled and roiled just like they always did when he was deep in thought. “Are there lots of things around here that can be reanimated?” he asked Sloane.

Sloane frowned. "There are at least two cemeteries in town. A morgue."

I winced.

"A pet cemetery, I think, right down the road. That doesn't count people who bury things in their yard -"

"Eww," I interrupted.

"It's true," Sloane said. "It also depends on how old the land is around here and what might have happened over time. You never know how many bodies are buried underneath your feet on any given day."

I stared at Sloane in horror, his day to day life suddenly becoming glaringly apparent as I looked at him. He lived with this every day - the knowledge of the dead underneath, above, everywhere... all at once. I blew out a slow breath knowing I'd view him in a different light from now on.

"That's... weird." I snorted a laugh. "Your magic is so strange."

"Thanks?" He gave me a quizzical look and straightened before stepping a few feet away. Maybe to give me space. Maybe because I'd hurt his feelings.

"No. What I mean is it must be so strange to feel death around you all of the time."

His eyes darkened. "Not really. I've never known anything different."

And wasn't that the clincher? I nodded and was about to speak again when the red and blue flashing lights of the ambulance pulled up outside.

"I really don't need an ambulance," I protested.

"You're going to let them check you out at least." Sloane's brows drew together. "I insist."

"He's right, Ivy," Harry said. "You don't know how that kind of magic might affect you."

I blew out a breath. "Fine."

Sloane held out a hand when I started to stand. "No. Stay here. I'll bring them to you."

Sloane left Harry and I alone as he went out to greet the paramedics.

"Do you know what they want?" I asked Harry.

His head jerked up at that. "Excuse me?"

"You know who this is, don't you?"

Harry didn't look away from me, but his eyes swirled a fiery orange. "And if I did?"

"If you did, you could save yourself a potential murder charge by fessing up."

"It doesn't have anything to do with you," Harry protested.

"I'd be surprised if it did," I said gently. "There's a woman out there who lost her life over this. Don't you think it's unfair to her to not name names when you have them?"

Harry sighed then. "I don't know for sure."

"But you have a good idea?"

He nodded. "I do. And if they're here in Moonmist, we're all in danger."

Chapter Five

Two paramedics came in with bags and little fanfare. One of them glanced over at Harry and blinked a few times before looking away and getting to business as usual. I stifled a smile at that. They must see a lot of strange things in their line of work. What was an animated skeleton?

"Miss Bradshaw," the taller of the two said. "My name is Mike." He jerked a thumb at his partner. "The shorter one is Alec."

The shorter one rolled his eyes. "He introduces us that way because it makes him look bad to say his name is mike and the smarter, more handsome one is Alec."

A surprised laugh bubbled from me. "Nice to meet you both. That's Harry over there in the chair."

Harry gave a lethargic wave.

"Cool," murmured Alec. "What kind of magic?"

"Darn if I know. He keeps his secrets close to the vest."

Harry grunted at that but didn't deny it.

Mike pulled out a blood pressure cuff and a couple of other fun accoutrements of his trade. Alec sat beside me and motioned for my wrist. He took my pulse while Mike set the rest of his stuff up.

"I don't plan on going to the hospital," I told them.

Mike shrugged. "We'll need you to sign a form, but from the look of things, I think that's fine. You don't seem like you have a concussion."

"Her pulse seems fine," Alec said.

I held my arm out for the cuff and suffered through their gentle ministrations. Sloane hovered in the doorway, his eyes darkened in his face. He wore a contemplative look and couldn't stop glancing at Harry. Sloane knew something about this or had a theory and I wanted to hear it.

When Mike and Alec were leaving, I told them each to grab a bar of soap from the container by the register. I set it up as an intuitive grab bag. "Don't look," I cautioned them. "Whatever you pick is what you need today."

They waved and called back thanks as they left the room. The sky outside my bedroom window was just beginning to streak with pink, the sunset barely beginning to peek above the horizon. I'd been up all night with nothing to show for it except a pounding headache.

Sloane pushed off the wall and looked at his watch, one of the few men around this town who still wore one. "I need to get going." He nodded at Harry. "Take care of her?"

"It's all I do," Harry said with a dramatic whine in his voice.

Sloane's grin told me how much he believed that. "Then take care of yourself. Stay here and don't leave Ivy's property." He glanced over at me. "If you know anyone who can do any warding, you might want to call them." His face grew serious. "Ward out any magic dealing with death."

"Including yours?" I asked.

He nodded. "Including mine. You don't want to take the chance."

"That means you won't be able to come onto the property?"

Sloane shrugged. "Maybe ask and see, but usually that's what it means."

I didn't know if I liked that idea. "I'll see about it."

Sloane nodded. "You'll be hearing from me soon."

He was about to step out. "Thank you," I blurted. "For coming by."

Sloane's back stiffened for a moment. "It's the least I could do."

With that, he left me in the bed. I heard the front door shut softly behind him a moment later.

"Are we opening today?" Harry inquired.

I peered over at the clock and groaned. "We should."

"Maybe I should call your sister."

I snorted. "Rose?" I said, knowing full well he meant Holly.

Harry gave a dramatic sigh. "Rose doesn't appreciate soap like Holly does."

"And she doesn't know anything about running a soap shop! I'll open today." I slid my feet off the bed, wincing as my toes touched the tile. When I lost my shoes I had no idea. Maybe Sloane took them off me. I shrugged away the weirdness of that and slowly stood, swaying with a touch of dizziness as I did.

Harry clattered to standing and rushed over, holding my elbow with the cold touch of bone. He didn't touch me often, but when he did, it felt strange. Foreign. Humans had skin. And the only ones who touched bones usually worked in law enforcement. However, I was grateful for the helping hand.

He led me over to the bedroom door. I walked with a ginger step, my head pounding in time with my footsteps. When I realized I'd gotten out of breath in that short distance, I knew I couldn't open for the day.

"Can you put a note on the door for me?" I asked Harry. I jerked my head back toward the bed and he helped me get tucked back in.

"Of course. Call if you need anything," Harry said, more concern than I'd ever heard in his voice.

"I will," I mumbled as my head hit the pillow.

Harry said something else, but my eyes already drifted shut.

Strange dreams plagued me. Men in robes and women with long hair and jewels worn as adornments on their bodies swayed in a room of stone. They spoke in foreign tongues and laughed wicked and free. A body rested on a cement slab in a dark and cavernous space lit only with candles and torches. A ball - an orb - something made of crystal and light sat at the head of the slab. It glowed with an unearthly light. A robed figure hovered over it, delicate hands cupped over but not touching it. She murmured something I couldn't understand. And just as I realized what was happening, a finger on the lifeless body twitched.

I woke up, a strangled scream pouring out of my throat. My hand rested over my pounding heart. Swallowing, I willed my breath to slow and calm. I hoped what I experienced was just a nightmare and not leftovers of residual magic because whoever I'd dreamed of didn't seem like a very nice person.

Harry sat at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee when I padded in. He straightened in surprise.

"Ivy! Are you feeling okay?"

"I'll be doing great if you left some coffee in that pot," I said as I grabbed a mug from the cabinet.

"Half a pot left. I know not to anger the monster in the morning."

I tapped him on the head as I passed by to the pot. "Good man. You're learning."

I poured myself a cup and doctored it up with a little cream before I sat down at the table. A large stack of old newspapers sat in front of Harry. He held a large, round magnifying glass in front of him and he was examining each one thoroughly.

"Middle age nearsightedness?" I quipped, gesturing at what he held.

"You try looking at hundreds of these things without your eyes blurring," he grumbled.

"I still don't understand how you can even see without an optical nerve." I took a sip of coffee and pulled some of the papers toward me. "Where did you get these?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. A frown touched my brow as I looked down at the date. The papers were brown and warn and had a decidedly odd texture. But that wasn't the worst of it.

"1902?" I looked up at him in horror. "Should I be wearing gloves to handle these?" I took my fingers off the paper.

"It's fine. These aren't anyone's property."

"I beg your pardon? They have to be someone's. Again, where did you get them from?"

Harry waved a bony hand. "Here and there."

"Here and there better not mean you stole them from somewhere. It's bad enough you're the suspect in a murder. Do you have any idea how ruthless librarians can be when you don't return your books on time? I can't imagine what they'd be like if you took antique papers out of the research area!"

Harry snorted. "These aren't from the library."

I sat back and studied him. "Then where are they from?"

He stared to speak and I held up a hand and leaned forward. "Do not give me a flippant answer, Harry. If these are stolen property and you've brought them into my home, that makes me an accessory. I will be very angry with you if I wind up in the crosshairs of the police department. Again."

Harry's jaw clattered. "Fine. I did not steal them. I borrowed them."

"From where?"

He looked away.

"Harry," I warned.

"From 1902."

I blinked. "Pardon?"

Harry didn't say anything.

"1902," I echoed. "You borrowed them from 1902?"

He nodded.

"What does that even mean?" I said, exasperated.

"It means exactly what I said. I borrowed these from 1902. And when I am finished with them, they will be returned."

"To 1902?"

"Yes. To 1902."

"So... you're a time traveler now?" I asked.

Harry snorted. "Not quite."

"Then how, pray tell, are you planning on returning these to 1902?"

"The same way I borrowed them."

A growl burst forth from my lips. "I have not had nearly enough coffee to deal with you and your riddles this morning."

"Magic, Ivy," Harry said with a sigh. "I'll use magic."

I sat my coffee down with a thunk. "Magic."

"Are you dense this morning? Yes. Magic."

"Uh huh. And how long have you been able to use magic?" I demanded.

One of Harry's bony shoulders fell in a shrug. "A while now."

"A while as in the entire time? Or a while as in oops, I'm suddenly magical this morning. Let's see what I can do?"

"Not the entire time. Maybe a few weeks now." He shifted uncomfortably.

"And you didn't think this was important to tell me?" Harry was always secretive, but something like this... well, something like this was pretty important to tell the person you were living with. Especially when he wasn't paying a dime in rent and was dependent upon me to shelter and feed him.

"It's my magic, Ivy," he muttered.

"So?"

"So I didn't think it needed to be disclosed!"

I crossed my arms over my chest and thought about it. "What else can you do?"

Harry's eye sockets winked in his weird version of a blink.

"Besides steal newspapers?" I asked.

"I don't know yet," he muttered.

"But you're trying to figure it out?"

His silence told me volumes.

"What are you doing to practice?"

Harry's head jerked up.

I shrugged. "I'm serious. What are you doing to try to figure this out? I don't agree with you not telling me, and I think it's weird that you didn't, but you should know by now that I don't think magic is inherently bad." I rolled my eyes. "I run a soap shop and my sister runs a nursery based on our talents. We use our magic to help people."

Harry looked ashamed. As well as he was able to, that was. "Meditation."

One of my eyebrows rose.

"Breathwork."

"This all sounds very esoteric," I stated. "Any practical application?"

He slowly shook his head. "Besides this." He gestured to the newspapers.

"And how did you get those?"

"I thought about them really hard and pulled them through an interdimensional portal."

"Ha," I said, horror filling my bones. "Haaaaaa." He had to be kidding.

"I'm not kidding."

I looked around the room, expecting a deformed beast or worse to jump on my head and try to eat my brains. "You didn't."

"I did." He looked away from me. "It only dawned on me afterward that perhaps it was a bad idea."

"Huh. Yeah. You could say so. Everyone's magic was different, but the one rule we'd learned at a very early age was to never open a portal anywhere unless you had the training to control it. You never knew what could pop out of it and try to eat your face. "Did anything happen I should be aware of?"

Harry picked up one of the newspapers and waved it. "Just these."

"I'd say you got off lucky. But we aren't sending these back right away. Not until we get a magic user over here who can safely oversee a portal opening."

Harry scoffed. "It will be fine. Nothing happened."

"It will not be fine because nothing happened this time. I'll call Sloane later and see if he knows anyone." I could probably call Sam too. He'd be more up on the esoteric side of it than Sloane would most likely, but Sloane had the power to back it up. Or at least I thought he did. Necromancers were usually toward the top of the power scale. Since I wasn't a witch and my kind of power wasn't registered, I had no idea where I registered. Technically, I'd be classified as an empath, but I was more than one. I somehow straddled the line between being a witch and being something other.

"Fine," Harry snapped. "Now would you leave me be so I can look through these?"

I peered down at the old, yellowed paper. "If you snagged them from 1902, then why are they aged like that?"

"Because they didn't travel through correctly. The trip aged them."

"So your argument about it being fine is moot by that revelation, Harry."

He rolled his eyes at me and shoved a bundle of papers at me.

"What am I looking for?"

"Anything about the Time Bandits."

I laughed out loud.

Harry speared me with a stare.

"Okay. No. They aren't seriously called the Time Bandits? In 1902? They should fire their marketing person."

"Social media didn't exist in 1902 and there was a lot less competition so they didn't have to come up with cutesy marketable names back then."

"Yeah. But the Time Bandits?" I rolled my eyes.

Harry snorted. "Either help or drink your coffee. You're being insufferable right now."

"Ooh, big words." I snickered and picked up a stack of papers.

It didn't dawn on me until later that I should have asked him why we were searching for something like that. I'd just finished my third cup of coffee and stood to stretch out my aching muscles. I still had a twinge of a headache but it wasn't anything an aspirin couldn't solve. I hadn't found anything helpful for him and by the looks of Harry, he hadn't found anything either.

"Why are we looking for them?" I asked as I reached down to touch my toes.

Harry didn't look up. "I read about them several weeks ago. Supposedly they were wizards who traveled through time."

"Yer a wizard..."

"Don't you dare say Harry," the skeleton warned me.

"Harry!" I said in a terrible British accent.

At his look, I burst into laughter. "Oh come on. You don't really believe in time traveling wizards, do you?"

He set his paper down. "Ivy. You're standing right outside of a shop where you infuse emotions into your soap having coffee with an animated skeleton who stole newspapers from the 1900's using an interdimensional portal."

I sobered. "Huh." I hadn't thought of it that way. "Weird."

"You could say that," Harry said.

"You didn't answer why you're looking for them."

Harry took a sip of his coffee. "Because I suspect they're the ones looking for me."

Chapter Six

That evening, I stood in the kitchen making a butternut squash soup pondering over the weird left turn my life had taken when the doorbell rang. I rarely asked Harry to answer the door because he would literally scare the pee out of a person if they weren't expecting it, so I turned the heat down on the soup and walked out, drying my hands on my apron.

I opened the door to see Sam standing there, his hands shoved in his pockets and his head down. Next to him stood a pretty woman dressed in a bright orange sweater, jeans, and winter boots. She had a brown scarf wrapped around her neck and a hat she'd pulled down over her ears that struggled to contain her curly brown hair.

I'd seen her around a few times in town. Immediately I wondered if someone had won the bet about Maggie being the first one to wrangle the handsome librarian into a relationship.

"Hi Sam." I kept my voice cool because I was still annoyed at him over what had happened earlier.

"Maggie." I nodded. "What a surprise."

Maggie offered a tentative smile. "We heard what happened and wanted to come by and make sure you were both okay."

My brow wrinkled at the collective "we" she'd just used, but as I wondered, she slipped her hand through the crook of Sam's elbow.

Ah. So the collective we was true. I felt a grimace tug at my lips and managed to turn it into a smile. "We're both just fine. Thanks for coming by."

Maggie's hopeful look began to falter. If it were just Sam, I would have opened the door and invited him in. Maybe. I still felt some anger toward him and it was weird of him to show up with Maggie as his new girlfriend when I was almost positive I'd never said anything to her about Harry. Nor had she ever seen him.

Sam's eyes tightened at the edges. We locked gazes for a moment before he gave a sharp nod and dropped his eyes. "Well, you have a nice day, Ivy. Give Harry our best."

Guilt speared me in the chest. We were friends, weren't we? Maggie glanced at Sam then at me. Her mouth tightened but she let Sam lead her off the porch.

"I will," I said before I stepped back in and shut the door.

Harry sat on the couch one ankle crossed over his knee reading the latest Lee Child book. The guy had a thing for thrillers, a habit picked up after we'd solved that murder a while ago.

"You hungry?" I asked him as I went back into the kitchen to stir the soup.

He nodded. "Smells delicious."

"Did you find anything about the Time Bandits?" I asked. I did my best to keep the amusement out of my voice over that ridiculous name.

Harry sighed and set his book down on the couch beside him. "It's a legitimate organization!"

"I'm sure it is," I murmured as I dunked a spoon in the soup so I could taste it before adding more salt. "And why would they be after you?"

This was probably the third time I'd asked him about this and he'd remained as tight-lipped as ever.

"It's complicated," was all he would say to me.

"I don't understand how you can't remember much of your life but you know about those bandits."

"Time Bandits," Harry growled. "They're in every timeline ever seen."

I blinked. "See. I don't even know what that means. And you do. So you've been holding out on us."

Harry shifted in his seat. I leaned against the kitchen island and studied him. "How in the world do you expect us to help you if you keep us in the dark? It's unfair of you to keep living here with me and holding onto serious secrets like this."

He blew out a breath. It sounded surprisingly human these actions he made. I wondered who he'd been, if he'd ever been a person. If he was a spirit, where did he come from?

"I can't tell you anything," he insisted.

"So you're bound to an oath of secrecy?" I pressed.

"Ivy," he warned. "I'm not at liberty to tell you anything."

"So you'd rather go down for murder?" I shook my head and added a little bit more thyme to the soup.

"I won't go down for any murder," Harry insisted. "They'll have me by then."

I stilled. "Who will have you?"

He shook his head and stood up. "Do you want me to put the bread in the oven?"

I watched as he dug through the pantry to get the Texas toast out. "Your desire to be helpful won't stop me from asking questions," I told him.

"Yes, well, at least there will be good garlic bread at the end of it," he said as he got the butter and garlic powder out.

"Hmph." I glared at his back for a moment before I gave up.

Harry mentioned wanting to catch up on The Handmaid’s Tale when dinner was finished.

"So," I drawled, "I'm sure you've seen stuff similar to this being around since the 1600s. Let me see...Salem Witch Trials...the Reformation...the English Civil War..."

"You have some of those dates mixed up," Harry said with a sniff. "But if I can't remember who I am, how can I remember anything in history?"

I rolled my eyes at that and he looked away. We both knew by now he remembered more than he owned up to.

"This will all come out," I warned him. "You forget about Sloane. It seems like he has the power to pull this out of you if need be."

Harry stiffened. Softened butter slid off the knife he held. "That sounds like a threat, Ivy."

"Oh come off it, Harry. You know neither one of us would hurt you. But Sloane is a police officer and they can compel him to pull it out of you if they keep hitting dead ends."

Harry, despite his expressionless masked, looked disturbed. He put down the knife and gripped the edges of the counter. "This is not good."

"I'd say not," I said softly. "There's a murder victim out there and someone is trying to kidnap you."

"Is it called kidnapping if I don't have a driver's license? Or an identity?" Harry snorted.

"Well, there's no such thing as skeleton napping, so we have to go with what works." I added a little more seasoning to the soup and set it to simmer. "Scoot over and let me help you."

I grabbed another butter knife and helped him make the rest of the bread.

Harry and I ate a quiet dinner in front of the television watching the show, but as the episode went on, my stomach turned. Why we thought that was good dinner watching was beyond me.

Harry sat rapt.

"You never did tell me if you were in Salem."

Harry let out an annoyed breath. "That happened in Massachusetts."

"I'm aware."

"I'm British, Ivy."

I laughed. "It doesn't mean you weren't there!"

He sniffed. “Doesn’t mean I was either.”

I sighed and went back to watching the show. When Harry got grumpy it was useless talking to him.

I’d just opened up the shop and spent a few minutes lamenting my lack of help. Hiring someone new was on the list, but I hadn’t been able to bring myself to do it after I’d caught the last one, Piper, stealing from me and giving my secrets to a competitor.

I needed the help but terror filled me every time I thought about bringing someone else in here to help. I worked so hard at everything in this place and to know someone I trusted tried to bring me down made me ill every time I thought about it.

Still. I could use the help. Harry did what he could behind the scenes, but I really needed someone in here to learn the day to day running of it so I could focus on the product creation. Maybe I'd put a Help Wanted ad in the local newspaper today if I got time. I thought about asking Sam if I could put up some flyers in the library, but we weren't on the best terms right now.

The first customers came in for the day. I smiled and waved. "Let me know if you need anything," I called and left them to browse.

The two young women made a beeline for the new bath bomb section. I smiled and ducked my head back to my notes to make some corrections to one of the recipes when the phone rang. Without seeing who it was, I answered.

"Ivy."

"Hey Ivy. This is Sloane. Sorry to call so early, but I'm going to need you and Harry to come back down to the station when you get a chance." He paused and cleared his throat. "Preferably today."

"Why? What's happened?"

Sloane chuckled. "Everything is fine. I just need to ask Harry some more questions and figured you'd want to be there."

"Of course I do." I looked outside and saw the parking lot rapidly filling up. "It might not be until I close up today. I still haven't hired help and I'm about to be swamped."

"I'll still be here," Sloane assured me.

We hung up but the gloomy cloud hanging over my head didn't go away for the rest of the day.

I'd just locked up when Harry came clomping out of the back. "What a day!" he announced. "You wouldn't believe what happened on Supernatural!"

Harry's newest obsession. Two monster hunting brothers who never stayed dead. I shook my head and laughed. "You might be watching too much t.v."

Harry's eyes flared orange. "Never. I'm a skeleton. It's not like I can go to the mall or anything. It's either read, watch tv, or pick herbs for you."

"Herbs pay the bills," I quipped.

A knock on the door interrupted the rest of what I was about to say. Harry inhaled a sharp breath, his eye sockets flaring, and he abruptly spun and clattered away.

"Harry?"

I turned to the door. My sister, Holly, stood outside holding something large in her hands. I rushed over to open it for her and she breezed in.

"I brought you this!" she said, her cheeks cold and her voice out of breath. "It's a Monstera!" She plopped the plant down on the register area. "When it's older, the leaves will get these cool oblong holes in them. It's a great air purifier."

Holly never listened to me when I told her I couldn't grow anything. She always told me not to worry about it because all I had to do was call her if any of my plants started dying. Still. I couldn't call Holly every single time I overwatered something so I tried to do my best.

She looked over her shoulder. "Where did Harry run off to? He looked like his hair was on fire." Holly grinned at me. "If he had any, that is."

Holly wore her usual garb of dirty overalls, a white t-shirt, and a bandana tied up in her dark hair. Her eyes were the color of mercury, light and silvery.

"Who knows with him?" I eyed the plant. "I hope I can take care of that. The orchid you gave me is in rough shape."

She eyed me and stuck her hands on her hips. "Show me."

"Do I have to?" I whined.

She pointed at the door. I sighed and led her to the soaping room. Before we got there, though, Harry clomped out of his room wearing a black top hat and a bow tie. I chewed on the side of my lip to keep from laughing.

Holly gasped. "Harry! You look so handsome. Do you have a date you didn't tell me about?"

Harry bowed low. "No, Miss Holly. I just like looking my best."

They always did this. I suspected Holly just wanted to make him feel good and Harry ate that up.

"Well, you clean up nicely. Ivy tells me she has an orchid in dire straits?"

Harry held the door open for us. Holly stepped through first and I followed.

"She doesn't have your touch with plants," he said.

Holly laughed. "And I don't have her knack with soaps or empathy." She gave me a frazzled smile but her gaze snagged on the orchid. "Oh my goodness!" she cooed as she walked over and touched the drooping leaves. "What has she done to you?"

"Tried my best," I muttered.

"Did you water with ice cubes?" she demanded as she warmed up her hands.

"Uh yes. That's what the internet said.

"Never water with ice cubes!" A warm glow began in her hands and she touched the leaves of the plant. Seconds later, it burst with new greenery and heavy bloom buds. "You take the plant and soak the moss in water once every two weeks or before it dries out completely."

She smiled and stroked one of the buds. "There you go. You're all better now."

"You need to leave me a care sheet for all these plants," I said.

Holly snorted. "It's easy. I just told you what to do with the orchid. With the Monstera, let it dry out between waterings. Then water normally with a can. Call me if it looks weird."

I leaned against the doorjamb. "What's going on? Everything okay?" Holly looked tired.

Sometimes when she used her magic too much, it drained her. This looked like something different. "Everything is fine. The shop is really busy right now and I'm trying to keep up. I need to hire someone else."

"You sure that's all?"

Harry's gaze bounced back and forth between us.

She gave me a tight smile. "I'm sure." She pushed her purse up higher on her shoulder. "Do you have any salts or soaps for relaxation?"

"For you?"

She nodded.

One of my eyebrows rose. Holly looked away. Harry took a protective step toward her, hesitated, and stepped back. I gave him a curious look but he refused to look at me.

I opened my power.

Holly's lips tightened in disapproval. "Mom would be so mad at you."

"Mom's not here."

I felt a lot of things from her. Exhaustion. Sadness. Fear. Something else I couldn't identify. "Holly?" I questioned.

She shook her head. "I can't talk about it right now. Can you please help me with the products, thought?"

I blinked. Holly almost always talked to me about things. Surprised and a little stung, I nodded and led her back to the shop interior. Without a word, I picked out several things for her - bath salts, a bath bomb, a deep lavender and passionflower infused soap, and a body oil. I tried to stuff my hurt down. "Use all of these. You should start to feel better within a few hours." I gave her a tight smile. "And your skin will be soft as a baby's bottom."

I bagged everything up for her and handed it over. Holly started to rummage in her purse, but I stopped her. "Absolutely not. I'm your sister. You take this and call me tonight if it helps. If it doesn't, I have another idea. But I think it will, though."

Harry stood behind and off to the side of Holly. His eyes flared a color I'd never seen - a deep royal purple. If I had to guess, I'd say it was despair. Holly thanked me and smiled at Harry before she sped back out through the door.

"There's something wrong with her, Ivy."

"I'm well aware of that."

He watched as she hurried to her car and sped away. "Something serious."

"I think so," I said with a sigh.

He turned those strange eyes to me. "Well aren't you going to find out?"

I blinked. "I'm sorry?"

He flicked a hand in her direction. "With Holly. Don't you want to know?"

"Of course I do, but she's my sister. She's entitled to her privacy."

He didn't look convinced. "But what if she's in danger?"

My voice softened. "I didn't sense that, Harry. She's afraid of something, but it isn't alarming to me. Fear is very normal. Many people carry it around and it can be for a variety of reasons."

Harry huffed a breath. "I don't know what good being nosy is if you're not always nosy."

"Harry!" I sputtered a laugh. "That isn't very nice."

"It's true," he grumbled. With a long last look at the door, he turned and clattered away.

I stared after him, my mouth open in surprise.

I wasn't that nosy. Was I?

I hoped no one answered that.

I gave him about half an hour before I knocked on his door. "Harry? Sloane needs us to go back to the station. It shouldn't take long."

I heard a groan from the inside of his room. "Do we have to?" he called.

"I'm afraid so. Sloane is expecting us."

I stepped back from the door when I heard him get up. He flung it open and stepped out. A quick peek in his room showed the top hat and tie discarded on top of his bed. "No tie for Sloane?"

Harry snorted and clomped to the back door. Lacey lay curled up on the rug. When she heard Harry come in, she rolled onto her back exposing her belly for some rubs.

"No time today, girl. The police want to interview me."

I rolled my eyes and gave her a quick rub. "Come on, let's go outside for a minute."

I tossed Harry the keys to warm the car up and clipped the leash to Lacey so she could do her business.

Harry and I went separate ways when we walked out. A few minutes later, I'd tucked Lacey into her kennel and hurried out to the car, hissing as I sat on a cold leather seat when I got into the driver's seat.

"It feels colder than usual, doesn't it?" I asked Harry as I buckled up.

I felt his eyes on me and I had to laugh. "Sorry. Dumb question."

"I'll say." Harry ignored me for the rest of the trip.

When we pulled in, I noticed Sloane's car was still there but almost all the other cars were gone.

Harry followed me inside and I headed straight to the receptionist's desk. The same woman was there.

"We're here to see, Officer Kramer." I said and pulled out my license.

She gave me an odd look. "He's off-duty."

"I'm aware. He asked us to stop by."

Her lips pursed as she picked up the phone to call him down.

Sloane arrived less than a minute later. He always looked put together, but today he looked more rumpled than I'd ever seen him. The receptionist's eyes lit up as he walked our way.

I looked away from her and ignored the tight feeling in my stomach. It was natural to have a crush on him. Probably eighty percent of the women in the town did. He was new, eligible, and darkly handsome. Someone would have to be a fool to not wonder if he was boyfriend material.

His eyes crinkled at the corners when he saw us. "Ivy. Harry. Want to come on back?" Sloane nodded at the receptionist. I caught her pout out of the corner of my eye but Sloane had already turned around and missed it.

"So," I said as we walked. "Your receptionist. She a nice girl?"

His brow furrowed. "Excuse me?"

"The woman back there. Is she nice?"

Sloane shrugged. "How would I know?"

I couldn't help it. I laughed. "You work with her every day!"

"She seems fine," he said and shook his head. "Why are you asking me that?"

"Because she definitely has a crush on you."

Harry choked on a laugh at Sloane's expression.

"No," he said in horror.

"Definitely yes." I tapped my nose. "I'm an empath, remember?" I didn't even have to open up my power to understand what that was.

"I'll have to tell her I'm not interested," he said offhandedly as he opened the door for Harry and me.

"You'll do no such thing!" I snapped.

He blinked. "You just told me she has a crush on me. The kind thing would be to squash it before it gets weird."

"She hasn't told you anything or approached you. So how would you know she has a crush on you? Don't embarrass the poor girl. Just wait it out."

Harry nodded. "I, for once, agree with Ivy. Crushes like that will fade over time." He eyed Sloane. "If not given any provocation."

"I'm not provoking anyone!" Sloane grumbled.

He motioned for us to sit down. I grimaced as I remembered the hard feeling of those seats. Sloane grinned at me. "It won't take long."

We both sat. Sloane loomed in front of us. "First things first. We can't identify the woman. She had no identification. Her fingerprints aren't in any databases. No dental records. Nothing."

Harry blinked and looked away.

"What's your theory?" I asked.

Sloane's eyes narrowed. "What makes you think I have one?"

"Because you always do. And we wouldn't be here if you didn't have something up your sleeve."

Sloane sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. "I believe Harry knows who this woman is." His gaze slid to the skeleton.

Harry sat still. Too still. His sockets burned with orange flame.

"And why do you think this?" he asked after a moment.

"Because you're tangled in this. Somehow. I'm not sure how, but I think you know the woman who died. Or..." he tapped his pen on his pad. "You're the one who killed her."

I snorted. Sloane glared at me. "What's so far-fetched about that?" he demanded.

"Nothing. But we both know Harry didn't do it."

"Do we?" His light eyes flicked between us. "We found him standing over her body."

"Unresponsive with no murder weapon in his hand," I countered. "How did she die?"

His eyes flickered and his jaw tightened.

"Ah. So you know he didn't do it but you're trying to find out what he knows."

Sloane glared.

I shrugged. "Remember our conversation, Harry. You can control this narrative."

Sloane's eyes flashed with anger. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

Harry leaned forward. "The woman's name is Jacqueline Mortier."

Sloane's mouth fell open. "So you did lie to me in that first meeting!"

Harry looked away. "She's been dead for over two hundred years."

Sloane and I both blinked. "Excuse me. What?" Sloane’s eyes narrowed and he focused on Harry with an intensity I didn’t like.

"She's one of the Time Bandits. She died in 1818 in a shootout."

Sloane's brow wrinkled in confusion. "Looking past all the weird time things you just said, how is a woman who died in 1818 here and dead again in our town?"

"How else?" Harry said.

"Magic." I sighed and sat back in my chair, glaring at Harry. "So what is this? A paradox now?"

Harry snorted. "She definitely screwed up the timeline. Now instead of 1818, she's dead in this time. There could be strong implications for this."

Sloane waved his hand. "I don't care about any wibbly wobbly time stuff."

I almost laughed at the reference but refrained due to the thunderous expression on Sloane's face.

"I just want to know who killed this woman and whether they live in this town!"

"I don't think so," Harry said. "They might be looking for me, so they might still be here. As soon as they find me, they'll be out of your hair."

"And a woman gets no justice for her untimely death?" Sloane asked.

Harry shrugged. "It's more complicated than a simple murder."

"Murder is murder," Sloane said. "Someone chose to take another's life. It's still a crime and we persecute criminals in this town, don't we?"

I blinked. "Um. Yes, of course."

Sloane clicked his pen a couple of times. "Then tell me everything, Harry. Tell me how I can catch them and put them away for life."

Chapter Seven

Harry didn't say a word on the ride home. When I pulled into the driveway and turned off the car, I turned to him.

"Hey. This isn't hopeless."

Harry refused to look at me. "They're trying to frame me for murder. As soon as I'm locked up, they'll get into the jail and take me back..." He abruptly stopped talking.

"Back where?" The only sound was the cooling of the engine and the wind rustling through the trees.

"It doesn't matter." Harry opened the door and got out, jogging up to the steps.

I stifled my sigh and followed him.

A few minutes later I shoved a cup of Earl Grey under Harry's nose. "Here. You're grumpy so drink this."

Harry took it from me. "London Fog?"

"Yes. You don't deserve it, though."

He chuckled. "I'm only trying to keep you safe."

"I can take care of myself," I insisted as I sat across from him, nursing my own cup.

"I don't deny that, but these people. They aren't your run of the mill murderer. They like harming people."

"Most murderers do,” I joked but sobered when his eyes flared. Why do they want you? Is it because of your magic?"

Harry stilled, his eyes flaring orange before they settled back in the familiar icy blue. "My name is Sterling Montvalier."

He pronounced it the fancy way. Like Valley A. I didn't interrupt.

"I was a renowned alchemist and sorcerer living in London." He looked away from me then. "I had a lab built into the bottom of my house and I did things. A lot of fantastical and amazing things."

I swallowed hard. "What kind of things?"

His voice had taken on a faraway tone. "I could do almost anything. Turn water into wine. Lead into gold. I could peer into the future." He sighed. "Though the hardest lesson was realizing I shouldn't peer anywhere. Knowing what happens in advance can be dangerous."

I stilled. "You created the Time Bandits?"

Harry didn't say anything for a while. "No, but I gave them the tools they needed to create themselves."

The impact of that rocked me. I mulled that over for quite a while. "Are you really saying you created time travel?" I asked once I’d wrapped my head around it. Sort of.

He shook his head once, hard. "No. No one creates anything. Ivy. It's already there, waiting to be discovered."

"You figured it out and handed over the keys to the kingdom."

He nodded. "For a very, very handsome price."

"Oh, Harry. They're here because their power is fading.” I took a sip of my tea. “This all sounds so fantastical."

"Did you know that once all science was considered magic?" Harry set his mug down. The finger bones in his hands jittered, clacking against each other as we spoke.

I nodded. "What people didn't know resulted in others being hung. I'm aware. I read an interesting piece once about the lost city of Atlantis and how much technology was lost to time. They created advanced technology, even more advanced than we have today."

"It comes down to power, Ivy. Why let the masses into the greatest secrets of the world if it can't be controlled by someone who wants to sell it to the highest bidder?”

"That's a harsh outlook, friend."

"It's a true outlook. They're here because they want me to help them."

I cleared my throat. "Did they have anything to do with..." I waved my hands up and down.

"This skeletal guise?" Harry chuckled, but it was a bitter sound. "No, my friend. I did this to myself."

Chapter Eight

I stared at my friend. Silence fell between us. Harry huffed out a breath.

"Ask. You know you want to."

I blinked and shook my head slowly. "Not sure I want to know, Harry. This seems... extreme."

"They don't want to kill me. They want to use me. There are things out there so much worse than death. Getting within the grasp of those people is something I'm going to try very hard to avoid."

"Don't leave the house," I warned. "They can't get you here."

"What about Sloane?" Harry picked his mug back up and sipped.

"He can come here."

What a mess this all was. I'd involuntarily gotten involved in a murder investigation a while ago. This felt different. Someone died, yes, but maybe she wasn't a good person.

"Do you know who killed that woman?"

Harry shook his head. "As far as Time Bandits go, Jacqueline was one of the better ones. It's possible she was here to warn me." His eyes flashed. "We had... history."

My eyebrows rose at that, but I didn't pry. "I'm sorry." I reached over and patted him on his bony arm.

"I had to get away from them, but all of my research... " he trailed off. "Everything I'd worked for my entire life was there. I knew they were coming for me. I knew what would happen, so I did the only thing I could think of." He looked away from me, his eye sockets swirling with the memory. "I removed my consciousness from my body."

My eyebrows rose. "And where did you put it?"

He looked at me and then down at himself.

I huffed a laugh. "I know that, but did you just have a skeleton lying around? How did you figure out what to do?"

"They'd just come into the house. I wasn't ready yet, but I had no other choice. I had a specimen on my lab table for research and just threw myself into it."

I pointed to him. "This isn't the same one."

He nodded. "Right. I switched out about fifty years ago."

"Switched out?"

"I can't seem to put myself into a human body, but the other skeleton was getting a wee bit worn."

I tried to hide the wince. "So you stole one from the high school?"

"They had more than one to spare."

Harry had Property of Moonmist High School emblazoned on the back of one of his ribs so he'd obviously belonged to the science department at one time.

"How is this one faring?"

"Just fine, though I'd like to have my human body back one day."

"Wouldn't it be..." I flicked my hand. "In the dirt?" I asked delicately.

Harry laughed. "You think I'd treat my own body that way?"

"Well, you're in a suit of bones so maybe?"

"No. The Time Bandits have my body and they have a vested interest in restoring me to it."

I squeezed my eyes shut for a brief moment as I tried to wrap my head around that. "But you want it back."

"Yes." He patted my knee. "I don't expect you to get involved in this. You have your own things to worry about."

"I'll say," I muttered. "But you're a friend. And friends don't drop two massive bombs and then announce they have it under control! You're under suspicion of murder, Harry. You can't leave the house. How in the world do you think you're going to get your body back?"

"My magic is back," he grumbled. "The spell caused some troubling memory loss, but I'm slowly regaining my abilities. And I remember most of what happened to me now."

My jaw clenched. "Did Mom know about any of this?" I thought about discovering him and almost having a heart attack when I realized he was sentient. As strange as our relationship was at first, we cared about each other. Harry had become a close friend and I wanted to help him however I could.

"No. I'm just Harry to her. A strange, magical thing she never wanted to figure out." If he could have given me a sad smile I'm sure he would have. We both missed her.

“How are you planning to get it back?” I didn't know if I really wanted to know, but if Harry was about to do something dangerous, I wanted to support him however I could.

He shook his head. "I don't know yet. I'm still trying to pinpoint a place where they could store it."

All this talk of bodies and bones was making me shudder. "Alright. I'll try to figure something out as well. Do you want me to tell Sloane?"

Harry's eyes flashed bright for a moment. "Perhaps," he murmured. "Technically, my body is dead. So maybe he could find it that way."

Necromancy was a strange science to me - one I didn't quite understand and one I hoped I never did. Death was natural, but undeath... well, I felt undecided about that one. "I'll call him in the morning." I stood up. "It's been a long day. I'm going to hit the sack." I looked down at his half empty tea. "Do you want a refill?"

He shook his head. "I'm going to stay up for a while and see if I can figure something out."

"Alright then. Have a good night." I left Harry in the living room and headed to my bedroom, stopping to put my mug in the sink.

Afterward, I lay in bed for a long time staring up at the ceiling, my thoughts whirling with this new and strange case. How in the world would Sloane solve a case where the victim had no modern day dental or any other records? And how would we help Harry get his body back... and should we?

I blew out a breath and rolled over. Too much to think about it and the day would be here soon enough. I shut my eyes and did my best to try to sleep.

Chapter

I'd shaken off the remnants of that odd magic blast and opened the shop early the next morning. With no customers on the horizon yet, I made a large pot of coffee and a carafe of Earl Grey tea for anyone wandering in. Then I ran through the list of supplies I had versus what I needed, jotting things down as I calculated how much more stock the shop would need over the next few months.

The thing people didn't understand about soap is how long the process took. If I made a huge batch of soap today, it wouldn't be ready for a minimum of six weeks. If it was Castille soap, it would need a minimum of eight months to cure. Selling soap before it properly cured would result in the bar falling apart in the shower or not lasting as long as it should, so it was a constant balance of ensuring I'd have enough soap to last the year while also making sure it would be ready on time.

Harry wasn't up yet. His behavior yesterday had turned more melancholy than I expected. Normally Harry was up as soon as the coffee started dripping, but today even the caffeine couldn't lure him from his funk. I poured myself another cup and clicked onto the website of my supplier. There were no cars in the lot yet so maybe I'd have a slow day.

I'd just finished placing my supply order when the bell over the door ran and a young woman walked in. I'd never seen her before, which wasn't too uncommon around here. We had tourists, but usually not this early. I released my shields just a hair. Nothing alarming pulsed off of her, no fear or nerves. She seemed relaxed which made me relax. I still hadn't quite shaken off the events of the recent murder so I was a little more on edge than normal.

I greeted her with a little wave. "Please feel free to look around. I can help with any questions you might have."

The girl nodded and smiled at me but didn't speak. I watched her for a moment as she poured herself a cup of tea and headed straight to the bath bombs. They tended to appeal to the younger crowd, especially when I used my hot pink or bright purple micas.

Satisfied she wasn't here for anything nefarious, I turned my attention to my recipe book and the bath bomb formula I was still attempting to perfect. I couldn't figure out the missing element. Everything felt perfect, but something still wasn't quite right. I'd purchased a pretty sheep mold and had managed to press three colors into the mold - black for the nose, cream for the wool, and white for the body. It was adorable, but I'd used it a few times in different variations, and I knew I'd missed something.

"Chamomile, lavender, passionflower, vetiver, and ylang ylang," I muttered. Rummaging in the bag of mix, I pulled a little out and smelled it. It had a calming, earthy yet sweet scent. I gasped. "Sweet orange!"

The young woman spun to me.

I held up a hand. "I'm sorry! I just figured something out. It was my eureka moment," I said sheepishly.

She laughed and held a hand up to her chest. "It's okay. I just couldn't think why sweet orange would be so alarming."

We laughed and she wandered over, a small basket in her hand filled with various bath bombs. "Is this a new recipe?" She stared down at it with interest.

My heartbeat picked up. The last time someone showed interest in my recipes, she'd stolen them and given them to someone attempting to open up a competing shop with me. "Uh. Yes." I smiled politely.

The woman took a step back and held a pleading hand up. "Oh. I'm sorry. I shouldn't pry."

Her nervousness beat at the edges of my should, but it wasn't a bad feeling. She felt like she'd offended me.

"No, it's okay," I said with a rueful chuckle. I held up the bag for her to smell. "It's a new bath bomb recipe."

She bent over and inhaled. "Oh. Lovely." She lifted her head and our eyes met. "A sleep formula?"

I blinked. "Why yes. How did you know?"

She smiled. "I'm opening up an aromatherapy shop a couple of miles down. Moonmist Springs seemed like a perfect fit for me, so I purchased a small little house off the beaten path."

Intrigued, I studied her. "What kind of aromatherapy?"

"I'm a certified Aromatherapist. I do oil blends and all kinds of things. No soap or bath products except for salts because those are pretty easy. I use a premade, natural lotion base and mix oils in there." She tilted her head and stuck her hand out. "I'm Rowan Hart."

I took her hand and we shook. "Ivy Bradshaw." Touch also told me a lot about a person, so I tried not to touch too many people. Rowan had friend potential. Her aura looked strong and bright and her nervousness had already lifted.

Rowan rummaged through her bag and handed over a crisp white card. "Call me some time. I'm interested if you make any lotion. Maybe we can work something out for an exchange of goods or services." She plopped her basket down by the register. "If I don't spend my supply budget here."

I laughed and walked over to ring her up, putting a ten percent discount on everything. She blinked when the total came up and frowned. I held a hand up before she could speak.

"My treat for a brand new customer and a welcome to the neighborhood."

Rowan's smile was bright. "Thank you!"

I bagged up her purchase and she waved at me before heading out the door. My skin tingled as I watched her bound down the steps. Why did I feel like I hadn't seen the last of Rowan and why did I think she'd become an important part of my life? I rubbed away the gooseflesh on my arms and went back to my list of recipes.

Later that day, I closed the shop for lunch and popped over to Luna's house, my Earth witch next door neighbor. I caught her out barefoot in the yard communing in a patch of daisies so I waited patiently on her front porch until she opened her eyes and stood to stretch.

"Ivy! I'm so sorry." She rushed over to me wringing her hands.

"No need to apologize. I didn't want to interrupt. It's a beautiful day today." I held up a basket of muffins. "I bring gifts and would like to ask a favor."

Luna's brows lifted in curiosity. "Come on in then." She eyed the basket. "As long as you brought chocolate chip."

"Of course I did. I wouldn't neglect my favorite neighbor like that." I followed her inside and sat the basket of muffins on the small round kitchen table cluttered with cut and dried flowers.

"Excuse the mess!" Luna called as she bustled into the kitchen to put on a pot of tea. "I've been doing more work than usual in the garden. It's awfully chilly out nowadays, isn't it?"

"Rose says we're going to have more winter than usual." I pulled my sweater closer, surprised at how chilly it was inside Luna's home.

She looked back at me and winced. "Oh sorry. I don't often run the air conditioning. I think it's bad for the environment. Would you like me to turn on the heat?"

I looked over at her living room. "Not at all, but would you mind if we moved to the living room?"

A roaring fire crackled in her fireplace. "Not at all." She handed me a plate and a mug with a tea bag in it, handmade more than likely.

I followed Luna and sat on the couch, carefully putting my saucer and mug down. Luna unwrapped the basket and held it out to me. "You first."

I didn't eat lunch because I knew Luna would offer me one. I chose a blueberry because I knew how much she liked the chocolate chip.

She picked one out, cut it in half, then poured hot water into both mugs. "Now, what can I do for you?"

I took a bite of my muffin and chewed for a moment before I answered her. "Harry. Have you heard about him?"

Luna knew all about my skeletal housemate. "Who hasn't?" she asked wryly. "There's no way he murdered that poor woman. For goodness' sake, he wears a bow tie and fedora when your sister comes over! No murderer dresses that sharp."

I laughed out loud. "Well, it does present quite a macabre picture when he does, but I agree. Harry wouldn't murder someone like that." I didn't delve into what he had done, though. Luna was perceptive. I didn't want her to see too much.

"I'm interested in seeing if you can tell me whether the murderer is still here in Moonmist, and, if so, if you can pinpoint an approximate location."

Luna's mug clattered against the saucer. She looked at me wide-eyed. "Wow, Ivy. That's a big ask."

"I'm aware. And I know a basket of muffins won't cut it for payment. We can barter if you like, or I can pay you."

Luna's gaze turned thoughtful. "Well, we both know how much money I spend in your shop on a monthly basis."

I nodded. "Would six months of free soap and bath bombs do it?"

Her eyes narrowed for a second. "If you throw in body butter, too, you have a deal."

Luna drove a hard bargain. My body butters were special and sourcing the ingredients was beginning to get harder and harder. "How about four body butters you can choose at any time?"

She tilted her head. "And dibs on new products?"

I chuckled. "And dibs on new products. For six months." We both knew I was still getting the better end of the deal here.

She held her hand out. "Deal."

I took it and magic sizzled between us, sealing us in the pact. "Deal."

Luna stood. "You'll need to give me a moment." She didn't wait for me to respond, instead bustling away before she disappeared around the corner. The sound of glass clinking together filtered back to me, and I sat drinking the fragrant tea and marveling at all the greenery in her house.

My sister had similar magic, though she had no prophecy skills. All Holly's talent came from the trees, flowers, and dirt. Luna's was earth and prophecy melded together. There was no name for either one of them. That was the thing about Moonmist. A lot of people here had unexplainable talent, talent that would get them into trouble if they moved into the regular world. Moonmist's borders were open to everyone, but only the braver tourists ventured in. Something about the town, whether it was magic or something else, repelled most people. Humans lived among us with no issues, but we were all careful about outing ourselves when they were around. Some had to know. It would be hard to not question some things when you lived here - like the weather that never seemed to change even when Tennessee was hit with a heat wave. But one thing I'd found when it came to humans? They were excellent at ignoring things that didn't fit within their worldview.

Luna came back, her arms full of glass trinkets and bag of herbs. She carefully set everything down and headed back into the room. This time she came back with a pretty crystal bowl and a glass carafe of crystal clear water. "I'll need to wash my hands. Excuse me."

When Luna had a job, she was focused until the end.

I polished off the rest of my muffin while I waited. A few minutes later, she came back in this time wearing a flowing skirt and a white tank top. She carried with her a silk scarf which she set down on the table after she moved everything out of the way.

When she finally sat down, she inhaled deeply, and looked at me. "Ask your question one more time, Ivy."

I sat up straight. "I'd like to know if the person or persons responsible for the death of Jacqueline Mortier are still here in Moonmist. If they are, I'd like to know their location."

Luna nodded and poured water from the carafe into the crystal bowl. "Please stay silent and give me a few minutes."

I nodded and waited. A moment later, cool white magic flowed from Luna's fingertips into the bowl. She frowned and picked up one of the other bottles, opening it and pouring a few drops into it before she reached for another and did the same thing. Satisfied, she reached for an incense stick, set it in a small circular holder, and lit it with a match.

Fascinated, I leaned forward for a closer look but kept my mouth shut.

Luna inhaled again, closed her eyes, and released her magic.

I gasped in surprise, stunned at the force of it. I'd thought of Luna's magic like a stream of cool, clear spring water. This felt more like a tsunami. Magic bloomed in the room, swirls of sparkled cream and white, floating around me like a mischievous fairy. It flowed around my arms, lifted my hair from my shoulders, and returned to Luna, swirling around her slow and easy. She whispered words I couldn't hear and opened her eyes to gaze into the bowl.

Her hands gripped each side. "This... " She shook her head. "This can't be right. There's something off about the people I'm seeing. They're old and yet young. I see someone on a table. He's handsome. But still. I don't think he's head. He's in stasis. That's a better word." She drew a sharp breath. "They're still here, but I can't tell exactly where. Something is blocking me. I can't see their faces either. They're blank, but they move like they're young. One woman has dark hair, the other red. Two men are in the room wearing odd clothes." Luna blew out a breath. "It's all very strange. They look odd and magic seeps off of them all. I think they're in a warehouse. The walls are stone. But I can't see outside. I know they're here, though. The air inside the room feels like Moonmist." She fell silent for a moment. "It's Harry," she said after a long moment. "The energy on the body. It feels like Harry." Her wide eyed gaze met mine. "Why does it feel like Harry, Ivy?"

I swallowed hard, uncomfortable with her discovering Harry's secret. "Ah..." I said. "Well, Harry preserved his body before he separated his consciousness."

Luna blinked. "So that's really Harry?"

I nodded. "Probably." I scratched my nose. "He's looking for his body."

She barked a sharp laugh but peered down into the bowl again. "I can see books, a long, metal table. Various bottles and packets of what looks like herbs. There are no paintings on the wall. The lighting is long, almost like industrial lighting or something. I don't see any windows. Maybe they're in a basement. I can't tell." Luna released her magic and the room immediately warmed up. She shook her fingers and sighed. "What exactly have you gotten yourself into this time, Ivy?"

I offered a sheepish smile. "I'm not quite sure."

"So Harry really is a man?" Luna sat back and chuckled. "Wow." She eyed me. "He's quite handsome, you know."

I grimaced. "I'm not so sure even if he gets a body back if I'll ever be able to see him as anything but a skeleton."

"Yeah," Luna said with a sigh. "You're probably right."

"Besides, if he does get it back, he'll have to find another place to stay. Living with a man is way different than living with a skeleton. Can you imagine how messy the bathroom would be?"

Luna laughed and wrinkled her nose. "Sorry I couldn't help more. I know they're here. I saw four faceless people. I'm never great with faces to begin with, but this time something obscured me from seeing them. The two men... one was blond and the other had black hair. They're both built like swimmers. The two woman - the redhead was short and curvy. The dark haired woman was tall and thin. I know that won't help a whole lot especially with this being Moonmist. Those people could be anyone. But the good thing is, if you see strangers around, you might want to take a second look."

I reached into my purse and pulled out a wrapped bundle of sandalwood soap. "I brought this to you from the shop. It's a new blend I made."

Luna's face lit up. She reached for it and inhaled. "Ooh. I'm going to use this tonight." Shadows that weren't under her eyes before appeared and she yawned. "I'm sorry, Ivy. Things like this take it out of me. I'm going to need a nap before I get back to work."

I stood. "You have no idea how much I appreciate this," I said as I headed to the door.

"It's worth it for all the soap in my future." Luna held the door open for me. "Take care of yourself, Ivy. The energy around that place felt odd."

"I will!" I waved and bounded down the steps and back over to the shop. I'd been gone less than an hour, but it felt like so much longer. No cars sat in the lot, but I reopened the shop anyway, flicking on the lights as I walked in. I heard clomping around in the back, so I headed back only to see Harry and Lacey playing tug of war. Harry nodded to me but didn't say anything and Lacey, happy she had someone to play with, completely ignored me.

I shut the door quietly and headed back into the shop.

Chapter

The rest of the day was uneventful and I closed up shop right on time. Just as I was about to lock the door, a police cruiser pulled in. My heart fluttered for a moment until I saw Sloane had a passenger. I bit down an ugly curse and instead sighed heavily.

Renny. A man I’d once loved more than air itself. I fantasized about marrying the man for so long that when I’d lost him, it felt like I’d lost a limb. He slid out of the cruiser like water, lean hipped but strong, tall, with a jaw so sharp it could cut glass. His blue eyes swept my yard and met mine as I stood in the doorway staring out at them.

A slow grin tugged at his lips as he looked at me. I huffed and pulled my gaze away. Sloane had already gotten out of the car. He looked at me and over at Renny, his jaw tightening. He knew I didn’t like Renny, but I don’t think Sloane got much of a choice who he patrolled with. There were only a few police officers in Moonmist, and I’d seen them so rarely I had no idea Renny had come back to town and made it on the force.

Part of me, the good part, was happy for him. He’d turned things around and done something with his life. The other part of me, the part that I tried to squash down, wanted nothing more to see the door hitting him in his rear end as I kicked him out of my shop and my life.

We had one thing in common - Trinity Blackwood. The woman who’d stolen my high school boyfriend and dated Renny just as I felt myself starting to warm up to him. I’d seen her recently when I was looking into the Michael Harper case. She wanted to open a door for us to have a relationship. When it came to her, I didn’t think I could. She’d betrayed me not once but twice. Cliff hurt more than Renny, but she knew how I felt about him and still tried to date him anyway. Looking back, part of it had to be insecurity. Maybe she’d been jealous. I don’t really know, and I didn’t really care to find out.

Renny and Sloane headed up the porch. I left the window and went back behind the register, needing something between us.

The bell rang and the two men walked in. My heartbeat picked up, pounding like a fleeing rabbit.

Renny looked around the place and then at me. “Little flower.” He nodded. “Looking good.”

Sloane’s lips thinned as he gave Renny a glance. I didn’t acknowledge his words. “Need something, gentleman?”

Renny chuckled. “Didn’t think I’d ever hear that word from you. One of the last times I saw you, you were saying so much worse to me.”

“Politeness is a virtue.”

Sloane came up to the register. “Sorry to bother you, Ms. Bradshaw. We’re here over someone who recently came into your shop.”

Renny stepped up and laid a picture down on the register. My brow furrowed and I looked up.

“You know her?” Sloane asked.

“No, but she did come into the shop. She said she was Moira Cooper’s daughter.”

“Yes, she is. Her mother hadn’t seen her for years and all of a sudden she shows back up with a child and no explanation of where she’d been.”

I blinked. “That’s strange but I’m not sure what it has to do with me.”

“She hasn’t been seen since she left your shop, I’m afraid.”

I glanced over at Renny who stared at me with piercing blue eyes. “I’m afraid I can’t help you. She came in, browsed, introduced herself, and left.”

“Is Harry around?” Sloane asked.

“He’s in the back. Harry wasn’t around when Jenny came by.”

“I’d still like to speak to him if you don’t mind,” Sloane said. He was all business today and I didn’t know if it was because Renny was with him and he was trying to spare me, or if I’d done something to incur his wrath.

I nodded and stepped out to get Harry. Renny’s gaze watched me all the way to the back.

Harry clomped out. “Ivy tells me you have questions?”

Renny held the picture up. Harry’s eyes flashed orange as he looked first at Renny then at me. “Ivy?”

I nodded. “It’s okay.”

Renny frowned. “Do you know her?”

Harry stared at the picture. “Can’t say I do.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Renny asked.

I gasped in surprise. “Renny!”

He shrugged. “I heard he’s already lied once.”

“I’ve never seen her,” Harry said, his posh British accent short and clipped. “And if that’s all, please excuse me.”

“Harry,” Sloane said. “Are you sure? She came up missing right after visiting this shop. Her mother is beside herself with worry.”

Harry shook his head. “I’m sorry. I really don’t know who she is.”

Sloane took the picture from Renny and stuffed it into his shirt pocket. “Thank you.”

Harry nodded and with one final long look at Renny, he clomped to the back, shutting the door behind him.

“He’s not telling us something,” Renny began.

“Officer Kramer, if you come back to my shop in any capacity, please ensure Renny is not with you.”

“Now, wait a minute!” Renny objected.

Sloane’s brows knit together. He looked over at Renny. A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Of course, Ms. Bradshaw. Please accept my apologies.” With a warning look at Renny, he headed to the door.

Renny stood there, his eyes bright with anger. “You have no right to tell me what I can and can’t do. I’m an officer -”

“Officer Hawke,” Sloane barked. “Let’s leave Ms. Bradshaw in peace. She’s answered our questions.”

Renny’s face reddened. “Ivy, this isn’t like you. What happened to the kind woman I once knew?”

“I’m still her. I just no longer suffer fools.”

Renny’s jaw tightened. He gave me a long look then turned on his heel and followed Sloane out the door.

When they were gone, I slumped against the register. The back door creaked open and Harry peered out. “Are you okay?”

I nodded. “I’d rather never see that man as long as I live.”

Harry sighed. “Emotions can be complicated things,” he said quietly.

“Hatred is uncomplicated,” I snapped.

“Do you hate him because of what he did or for the years you felt betrayed?”

I blinked at Harry. A moment later I dropped my head into my hands. “He’s too much,” I murmured.

“We didn’t even date. Not really. It would have been a disaster.”

“Maybe he’s truly sorry,” Harry said. At my look he took a couple of steps back. “I’m just saying. It was a long time ago.”

“Renny is never sorry for anything because nothing is ever his fault.” I waved a hand as if to clear the air of all the Renny talk. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

Harry came back into the shop and set his bones down on one of the chairs next to the coffee and tea.

“You told them the truth, I hope?”

He nodded. “I’ve never seen her. She’s probably not connected to this disaster.”

I hadn’t had the chance to tell him what I found out. Checking my watch, I rushed over to the door and flipped the sign to Closed. “I talked to Luna today.”

Harry stilled. “Did she know anything?”

“She says there are four of them. Two men and two women.” I told him the descriptions. “Your body is here too. She thinks they’re somewhere either in a basement or a warehouse.”

He slumped back against his chair. “Thank the gods,” he muttered. “I have to get it back.” He pointed down at himself. “I don’t get stomach aches or joint aches or any aches really, but with a body, I won’t scare all the little children either.”

I brought up the thought I’d had on my mind for a while. “What are you going to do when you get it back?” I toyed with a napkin I pulled from the tea stand.

“What do you mean what am I going to do? I’m going to have a body!”

I waved a hand. “You can go anywhere. Europe. Australia. Asia. You could travel or go to school or do whatever you wanted.”

His eyes flared. I don’t think he’d thought about it. “I - I’m not sure. I guess I thought I’d stay here.”

I offered him a sad smile. “You can. For a little while. But having a male roommate is much different than having a skeleton roommate.”

We sat in a sad silence for a while. “Well. I suppose I never thought of it like that. I’ve never been this close to getting it back before.”

“We can talk about it more once this is all over.” I stood up and headed to the back. “I’m going to go walk Lacey.”

He didn’t acknowledge me.

Chapter

What a day this had been. Lacey and I set off at a brisk pace. I pulled my hat down lower over my ears and led her down a few side streets. She happily sniffed everything and walked beside me as I got lost in my thoughts.

I didn’t like having Renny back. I didn’t like being in an argument with Sam. I didn’t like being caught up in a new murder case and now with Jenny being missing, I wondered if they were connected. Harry didn’t think so, but it seemed odd that she’d go missing right when things kicked up with Harry and those bizarrely named Time Bandits.

We turned down a street I’d never been on full of pretty homes with large wraparound porches. Trees limbs drooped over the road making a gorgeous canopy of shade but dropping the temperature several degrees. Lacey slowed down and I did too, suddenly feeling like something was off.

I looked around and seeing nothing amiss, I picked up my pace and gave a tug on the leash to tell Lacey to move. The wind picked up and swirled leaves around us. I looked over to the right once we’d gotten past the houses. Piles of leaves were everywhere, but as the wind moved, something pale under one of the piles caught my eye.

I stopped abruptly and peered at it. My heart thundered in my ears and my mouth went dry. Hoping against all hope, I led Lacey down the dip to the field and walked closer.

A human hand stuck out of the leaves.

A woman’s hand.

Sloane pulled up, by himself this time. He’d kept the sirens off, but lights flashed, coating everything in red and blue light. I sat with Lacey on the curb of the road, my back to the woman. I hadn’t touched her or even tried to look. It was all too much.

Sloane came closer, his eyes dark with concern. “Some day, huh?” he asked.

I snorted. “You could say that.”

“I don’t know how you do it, but you sure have a knack for falling into bodies, don’t you?”

I glared up at him. “Like I’m trying to do this.”

He held up a hand. “I’m just making an observation.” Sloane looked over at the pile of leaves. A deep sigh made his chest rise. “I thought this town was safe when I transferred.”

A hysterical giggle bubbled up inside of me and I clapped my hands over my mouth. Sloane glanced over. His lips twitched. I held up a hand. “I’m so sorry,” I gasped, trying to swallow the inappropriate laughter.

“It’s ridiculous,” Sloane said. “I get here and as soon as I do, you find a body. Now just a little while later, we have two. What is going on in this place?” He shook his head. “It feels like something dark is heading our way.”

I knew what he meant. My thoughts strayed to Harry. “Before you go over there, I wanted to ask you something.”

He motioned me over and sat beside me on the curb. “I’m the only one responding to the call. Renny is back at the station.” I heard the question in his voice.

“Ancient history.”

“I got time. The person behind us isn’t going anywhere.”

A dark chuckle escaped me. “This is terrible. We are terrible.”

“All police officers, at least those who’ve worked in high crime areas have darker senses of humor. It helps us cope.” He blew out a breath. “What do you want to ask me?”

“If a body is in ... “ I paused as I thought about the right word. “Stasis, do you think you could find it?”

His brows drew together. “Stasis?”

“Like dead but not dead. No decomposition or anything like that. Magically preserved, I guess is the best way to describe it.”

Sloane sat for a moment thinking. “Well. I don’t know. I can try.” He looked over at me. “Why are you asking?”

How to tell a man the skeleton living in your house abandoned his body after he gave the secret of time travel to criminals? Was there a manual for this kind of discussion?

He laughed. “Let me guess. Harry?”

“Yup. Saying it out loud sounds even more ridiculous than thinking about it. My errant skeleton has a body floating around somewhere in Moonmist and he’d like to get it back.”

“Would he now?” Sloane mused. “All I can do is try. I’ve never done something like that. Anyone I’m looking for is usually true dead.” He looked up. “Harry’s consciousness is alive. His body should be dead.” Sloane shrugged, lifting one powerful shoulder. “I can come by this evening if you’re available.”

I nodded. “I’ll be there. How about pasta?”

Sloane’s eyebrows rose. “You’re cooking?”

“I am.”

“Even though I brought Renny around today.”

A smile curved my lips. “As long as you don’t bring him around again. If you do, you forfeit future meals.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “Done.” Sloane stood and offered his hand to me.

I took it, surprised at the warmth and strength of it and how nice it felt in my own. “Thanks.”

Sloane took a notepad out of his pocket. “You know the drill. Tell me everything.”