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  “Are you all right?” I jumped up, scanning them for injuries.

  “A few bruises, but no worse for the wear. Though that wouldn’t have been the case if you hadn’t noticed what was happening and warned us.” Tad’s voice was shaking. “I don’t think your ghost went away with the skeleton, by the way.”

  “Yeah, we kind of figured that out,” I said. “I’m also wondering if it’s the ghost of whoever the skeleton belonged to, or something else that woke up during renovations.”

  “Look—upstairs in your bedroom.” Caitlin pointed to the monitor.

  My best perfume was floating in midair. “Oh no, that costs me a fortune!” I made a beeline for the stairs, ignoring Tad’s shouts. The next moment, Hank was making tracks behind me.

  “January!”

  “I’m not letting it—” I swung open the bedroom door. The next moment, my perfume bottle came hurtling toward me. Without thinking, I grabbed my robe from the vanity chair and held it up. The bottle landed in the material and I managed to keep it from smashing to the ground. Stomping into the room, I shouted, “I’ve had it! I don’t know who you are, but get the fuck out of my house.”

  A picture flew off the wall, smashing to the floor at my feet. I ignored it, grabbing a tote bag. I swept the contents of my vanity table into it, stopping to gently place the cologne bottles in the bag. “I am not letting you destroy hundreds of dollars’ worth of makeup, whoever the hell you are.” Handing the tote bag to the speechless Hank, I yanked open my closet and pulled out a suitcase, filling it with my best clothes.

  Meanwhile, books and brushes and other items from my vanity, dresser, and nightstand began to fly around the room. A brush hit me in the head, pretty hard, and I grabbed it as it fell and stuffed it in the suitcase. “Mine!”

  Without a word, I handed the suitcase to Hank and headed downstairs again. He followed. I passed Tad, who was suppressing a smile, and headed into the library. Everything shifted the moment I entered the room. The library felt calm, even though it opened into the storage space, and I had a sudden realization that nothing could interfere in this room.

  I turned to Hank, who was following me. “Do you notice the difference?”

  He paused, closing his eyes for a moment, then nodded. “I do. Whatever is haunting your house can’t get in here.”

  I closed my eyes, sensing that Esmara was around.

  Esmara, do you know why the library is so safe?

  When your parents first bought the house, your mother inscribed powerful wards into this room—you may not realize just how powerful your mother was. This is where she kept her magical regalia and tools. She had to make certain it was safe. Even though you’re now facing a paranormal crisis of sorts, the energy cannot intrude through the wards. You’re safe in here.

  Will the library stay safe if I remove my tools from the room?

  Yes, the wards are inscribed into the very walls. The tools are not a factor.

  I pulled out my magical bag from beneath the desk and then sat on the loveseat. In place of a coffee table, I used the chest that had belonged to my mother. The cedar-lined trunk was hand carved. Four feet long, three feet high, it had come down through from my great-grandmother Colleen Fletcher.

  Colleen was from Ireland, and she had passed the chest on to her daughter Naomi—my grandmother—who had passed it on to Althea, my mother. And now it belonged to me. My maternal grandfather had died, but Grandma Naomi was still alive and living in Ireland.

  In the trunk were my mother’s tools, and my own. I still used her crystal ball, but I had bought my own athame because every witch should have her own blade. I placed both daggers in the tote, then added my crystal ball, the two tarot decks I used most, the box of ritual jewelry, her grimoire as well as my book of shadows, and several potions, including sage spray, protection incense, and a cedar wand.

  I grunted as I lifted the tote. The crystal ball weighed fifteen pounds—it was huge. I turned to Hank. “What do you think’s going on? You’ve seen more than I have.”

  “What do I think? I don’t know if your haunting involves the spirit of the man whose body you found, but even if it does, I think there’s more to it than that. Whatever this is, it’s malign and volatile.”

  I thought about it for a moment. “I think you may be right. I need to consult with Rowan.”

  He eyed me cagily. “You and Rowan have been spending a lot of time together.” It was a statement, not a question, but I could sense his probing curiosity behind it.

  “Yeah, we have.” I paused, wondering if I should tell him. After all, I had told Tad. And both Caitlin and Hank were my friends now, as well as coworkers. “Come on, let’s get back to the dining room.” Reluctantly, I closed the library door behind us, after popping my laptop under my arm. I didn’t want to leave the secure room. It felt safe and protected, and the last thing I wanted was to feel vulnerable. But the sooner we dealt with the ghost, the better off for me.

  Back in the dining room, we saw on the monitors that the activity in the storage room had heated up. The chairs were flying around the room. One of the small tables spun round and round. Everything reminded me of a scene out of Poltergeist.

  “Looks like the carnival ride from hell’s taken up residence in my house.” I settled into one of the dining room chairs. “Listen, I have something to tell you guys. I told Tad on the way over, but now I think I need to tell everybody. I would appreciate you keep this low-key for the present. I know that eventually it will get around town, but—”

  ‘You and Killian are getting married!” Caitlin said.

  Hank followed her guess up with, “You’re pregnant?”

  I stared at them. “No, and, thank gods, no. I love Killian but I’m not ready for marriage again. And I’ve never felt the need for kids. No, what I wanted to tell you is…I found out that Rowan Firesong is my grandmother.”

  Hank’s jaw dropped and Caitlin gasped.

  “It turns out my grandma and grandpa Jaxson were my father’s adoptive parents. He never knew but apparently, my mother and my aunt did. Anyway, so, if you notice me talking to Rowan more, that’s the reason.”

  “Her bloodline’s so strong that you’re really going to need her guidance,” Hank said. “Do you realize how much potential you have?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, and right now, I’m going to call her because I need to ask her help on this. And maybe, just maybe, she might know something about this.” I walked away from the table and called Rowan back.

  “It’s about time,” she said, sounding absolutely irritated. “What took you so long?”

  “Why are you so barky?” I couldn’t think of anything I had done to warrant being yelled at.

  “Because I’ve been worried about you, you goose,” she said. “You’re my granddaughter. If you think I never kept an eye on you when you were in Seattle, you were wrong, by the way. I’ve kept my ear to the ground ever since you were born.”

  Taken aback—I had no idea she had cared that much—I cleared my throat. “Well, thank you. Okay, here’s the problem. I have a situation and I really need you to come over to my house to give me your opinion.” I paused, then added, “It’s really important, Rowan.”

  She must have heard a catch in my voice because all she said was, “I’m on my way,” and hung up. I stared at the phone for a moment, then before I could return to the table, it rang. Aunt Teran was on the line.

  “Hey, how’s it going today?” she asked.

  “The ghost’s still hopping. I’m here at the house with Tad and the others and we’re recording everything we can. The phenomenon hasn’t calmed down. Rowan’s on the way. Do you want to come over?” While I knew that Teran wasn’t fond of Rowan—Rowan had slept with her fiancé many years ago—they were civil enough when they were in the same room.

  “I’ll be over within the hour. Would you like me to bring sandwiches for everyone?”

  Aunt Teran was always good for a meal, and her food was excellent. I turned back to t
he others. “Teran wants to know if you’d like her to bring sandwiches—”

  “Food! Any time your aunt wants to bring food, we’re down for it!” Tad said, cheering.

  “Hey, Ms. K. Bring food!” Caitlin called out.

  Hank laughed. “Tell her yes.”

  I grinned at them, grateful they were so inclusive of the people I loved. They were just as friendly with Ari. “If you didn’t hear, they’re fans of the idea. There will be six of us—”

  “I’ll come prepared for an army.” Teran hung up and I went back to the table.

  “Rowan’s on the way, and so is my aunt.” I leaned over Caitlin’s shoulder. “What the hell is that?” I asked, pointing toward a bright light in the storage room.

  “I’m not sure. Tad, Hank, what do you make of this?” Caitlin leaned forward, squinting.

  The camera in the storage room had picked up a bright light—it looked almost like a flashlight beam darting around the room, and it was so bright that it was hard to look at.

  “Did you leave a flashlight in there?” I asked Hank.

  He shook his head. “No. I have no clue what that is.”

  The light began to bounce around the room, and then we heard a boom boom that shook the floor. Alarmed, I ran into the kitchen to check the utility room. Maybe the water heater was having issues or the furnace was throwing a clunker.

  But the utility room seemed untouched, and the water heater and furnace looked and sounded normal. The thumping, however, was growing louder. My stomach clenched as I hurried back to the others.

  “I don’t think it’s the furnace or the water heater. The washer and dryer aren’t on. If it’s an earthquake, then it’s the oddest one I’ve ever experienced.” All my dread and nerves were wrapped up in watching that light. It was now so bright that I couldn’t even look at it—the others were looking away, too.

  The doorbell rang, startling all of us. Shaking, I answered the door. It was Millie. I invited her in and she followed me back to the others.

  “I brought those files by for you to look at—the reports made by your father and mother..” Millie held up a file folder, then tossed it on the table. “These are photocopies. You can keep them. Your mother probably had copies of them somewhere, but this way, you won’t have to search for them.”

  I took the folder, trying to ignore the noise. “Thanks.”

  “What the hell is that?” she asked, pointing to the camera aimed in the storage room. The light was now blocking out the view of everything else. Then, with a flash, it vanished, and we could see the chairs still spinning in the air, but also a translucent figure leaning against the wall. The figure was male, and he looked big and mean, with eyes that glowed in the darkened room.

  “Who’s that?” Tad asked, jumping to his feet.

  “Do you recognize him at all?” Millie asked.

  I shook my head. “No, I don’t. I’ve never seen him before in my life. I don’t know who he is—”

  Millie froze. “Wait a moment. He looks like…” She leaned over the table, flipping through the file folder, and read aloud. “He’s Caucasian, about five-eleven, bald, and has a tattoo of a rose on the side of his neck.”

  “Was that the man who my parents thought was the prowler?”

  She nodded. “And this dude, ghost…whatever he is, fits the bill. Can you zoom in on him so I can see if he has a tattoo? Do ghosts even keep the tattoos they had in life? Is that a thing?”

  “Sometimes, yes,” Tad said. “Caitlin, see if you can get a close-up of him.”

  Caitlin fiddled with the controls, and the camera began to zoom in on the man. Sure enough, there was a rose tattoo on his neck. “Looks like this is your man.”

  I glanced in the file and saw his picture. Millie was right. Then, I happened to glance at the report and saw the word “stalker” there.

  “What’s this? Was he not just a prowler? Was he stalking them?”

  Millie shrugged. “Honestly, we don’t know. We do know that he was after your mother in high school and was pissed out of his mind when she married your father.”

  “What was his name?”

  “Charge Briarson,” Millie said. “He left town after that, but came back a few years ago. There was one time when he saw Althea in the grocery store and acted like an asshole to her. A couple of times, both Althea and Trevor thought they saw him sitting in his car, down the street. They told me that when they came in to file a report on the prowler, but weren’t sure if the two events were connected.”

  I skimmed through the report. Three times, they thought someone was in the house, but each time, there was no one there. The cops came each time, and once they found footprints outside the library room window, and it looked like someone had tried to jimmy it open, but there was no evidence that whoever it was had managed to gain entry.

  I stared at the ghost, a million thoughts running through my mind. If the ghost was responsible for the prowler reports and if he had nursed a grudge against both my parents, then maybe they were involved in his death. But did that connect them with his murder—if he was the skeleton in question?

  If they had killed him in self-defense, why didn’t they contact the police department? They had already filed reports. That gave them that much more leeway to claim self-defense. But if they killed him, then bundled his body into a trunk—and his nude body, at that, since the other trunk contained his clothing—then it looked a lot more suspicious. I didn’t want to even think about the possibility, but even I couldn’t overlook that they might have had a hand in his death.

  As I was thinking, the doorbell rang again and I started to answer but the door opened and Teran and Rowan walked in together.

  Chapter Eight

  Rowan Firesong was as lean as my aunt was stocky, with hair was down to her waist. Unlike Teran’s hair, Rowan’s was a natural silver and she usually wore it up in a bun. She was weathered, though she didn’t look old-old. She looked timeless, in that sense where you know someone’s not young anymore, but you can’t figure out how long they’ve been alive. She was wearing a linen skirt the color of rust and a button-down olive blouse, with a skinny brown belt that looped twice around her waist. All in all, for being over 200 years old, she looked pretty damned good.

  Teran gave me a kiss on the cheek, setting the platter of sandwiches on the kitchen table. Rowan gave me a brusque hug.

  “What the hell sort of circus do you have going in here?” Rowan asked, dropping her backpack by the table as she looked over Caitlin’s other shoulder.

  “First, do you recognize that spirit? Does he look familiar at all?” I asked.

  She studied him intently for a moment. “He does have a familiar shine to him.”

  Teran joined her, her eyes widening. “Charge.”

  “You recognize him?”

  “He was a thorn in your mother’s side in high school. He was constantly harassing her to go out with him, and when she refused, he tried to scare off her boyfriends. When she met your father and got engaged, he beat Trevor up. After a two-week stint in jail, Charge disappeared.” She paused, then said. “I promised I wouldn’t say anything because she didn’t want you worrying, but a few years ago, she met him in the store and he went off on her. Then—”

  “The prowler incidents started?” I held up the police file.

  “So you know?” Teran asked. “She and your father saw Charge hanging out along the street a couple times, and they couldn’t help but wonder if he was the one trying to break in. I don’t think they ever found out. A few months after that, Althea stopped talking about it so I assumed it was resolved.”

  “It appears he may not have left, after all,” Millie said.

  “Yeah, But…wait, this means he’s dead. Do you think the skeleton—” Teran started.

  “We don’t know. That’s the million-dollar question right now,” Millie answered.

  “Hush, both of you,” Rowan said. “Let me think…”

  We waited, but then the spirit su
ddenly paused and stared straight at the camera. His expression turned from cautious to furious within seconds and he swept through the air, headed toward the camera, and then everything went blank even as a loud thunk sounded.

  “Crap. Now I have to go back in there and set it up again,” Hank said, heading toward the library. Rowan followed him, not saying a word.

  I turned back to Teran. “So, do you think he was stalking Mom?”

  “I don’t know, sweetie.” She turned to Millie. “Charge belonged to the Covenant of Chaos. We—Althea and me—went to school with him. He was a loose cannon. How he actually managed to get himself initiated into the covenant, I don’t know. They may worship chaos but they don’t allow rogue behavior from their members.”

  I wanted to go see what Rowan was doing, but I knew better than to disturb her.

  Millie turned to Teran. “What do you know about Charge?”

  “His parents were considered a little nuts. They named him that so he would grow up with ‘gumption.’ But they needn’t have worried. He was a bully from the start. And I can tell you right now, his obsession with Althea started early. He was furious when she wouldn’t date him. We’re certain he was responsible for keying her car back in high school, but nobody ever found out who did it for sure. He ran off when she got married. I heard he joined the army. Later on, he returned from the Gulf, more of a froot-loop than ever. But at least at first, he left your mother alone and I thought he got married.”

  “I can find out,” Millie said. “But this raises some serious questions. If he’s the skeleton that was in the trunk…” She looked at me.

  “Then it looks bad for my parents, at least on the surface.” I finished her thought. “But there has to be more to it. My parents weren’t total pacifists, but they neither owned nor used guns, and they never espoused violence. They wore socks with their sandals, for heaven’s sake!”

  Aunt Teran stared at me for a moment, then snorted. “That sums them up, doesn’t it? Your father was a socks-and-sandals guy.”