I took a second to gather my words. “Sam Clarke tried to break into Joe’s pawnshop in Shady Hills. Just his bad luck that he got assaulted by someone who was already trying to rob the place!”

  Lizzie’s hand flew to her mouth in alarm. I knew body language well enough to be sure she wasn’t faking her shock.

  “Is he okay?” the disgraced socialite whispered.

  “He’s alive,” I answered on a shrug. “I’m not sure if that qualifies as ‘okay’ though.”

  Bailey leaned forward in her bed. “Somebody needs to get ahold of Ashley.”

  “I-I might have her number at the inn,” Lizzie said, suddenly rising to her feet. “Where’s Sam right now?”

  “The doctors are checking him out; he’s a couple doors down,” I told her.

  After I gave her the room number, Lizzie thanked me and all but ran past me to exit.

  “You know, children,” Ethel said with a keen eye on the newly departed Lizzie. “Nobody acts like that unless they’re trying to crawl out from under a heap of guilt.”

  “Which might explain some of the things I found on Sam,” I said, taking Lizzie’s vacated seat. “When I was looking for his cell phone.”

  “You went through his pockets?” Bailey asked in surprise.

  “He was in physical distress and I had to get in contact with Ashley fast. So… you can imagine my surprise when Ashley’s name wasn’t included in his cell phone contacts.”

  “What?” Ethel asked, shaking her head and looking confused. “Are you sure about that?”

  “Positive.’”

  “That sounds weird,” Bailey noted.

  “And the last name on Sam’s driver’s license is ‘Richardson’, not ‘Clarke’,” I added.

  Ethel jerked her head back. “Hmm, why the hell would anybody use a fake name at a bed and breakfast?”

  “Whatever the reason, Lizzie’s valuables are involved,” I answered and then told them about how I’d happened to be at Joe’s the day Lizzie came in to pawn the jewels I’d most recently found in Sam’s hands.

  “So, what’s Joe got to say about all of this?” Ethel asked. “Is he here with you?” And then she looked around the hospital room as if she expected him to walk out of the ether.

  “He’s saving all of his information for the police,” I answered, figuring the supernatural side of things wasn’t one I wanted to (or could) get into with them. “He’s lucky he wasn’t badly injured.”

  I thought about the cartouche that Maverick had absconded with. I sincerely hoped he remained careful in handling the item, as careful as I was.

  “You know, it’s been a few hours,” Bailey said, throwing off the sheets. “And I’ve had about enough of this hospital bed.”

  “Dr. Gruff still needs to write you a prescription, honey,” Ethel cautioned her. “Might want to let him—”

  “I feel fine!” Bailey protested. “The only thing hindering my recovery is staying in this stupid hospital another second longer.”

  “Bailey?” I felt anxiety clawing my guts.

  “Look, what else can be done for me at this point? I’ve been observed, I’m getting a prescription for I don’t even know what, and I feel all right. Can’t I just get out of here?”

  I looked at Ethel for help but all she did was shrug. “Do I look like a doctor to you, Syd? When a woman is that determined, all you can do is get out of her way.”

  I had no response to that so I complied with a shrug of my own.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The three of us took our time walking back to the shop.

  I couldn’t stop looking at Bailey anxiously. When we were only a couple of blocks from the shop, Ethel gently but firmly pulled me back to her side as Bailey continued on in front of us, far enough away that she was out of earshot.

  “Give her some room, Syd,” she said in a low tone. “Last thing you want right now is to crowd her.”

  “I can’t stop thinking that something awful will happen if I don’t stay close by her,” I murmured in response.

  “Yeah, Quincy told me what happened,” Ethel said and then eyed me narrowly as my own eyes widened.

  “He told you,” I started.

  “Everything,” she interrupted. “Too bad you nearly got swallowed by that big ol’ snake before he finally decided to come clean. When he mentioned that ritual from way back, everything got real clear and I knew what was going on.”

  I couldn’t help my surprise and then realized I was probably in for a few more because there was only one reason Quincy would have told Ethel anything—she had to be somehow supernatural, herself. And, yet, I hadn’t picked up on that at all.

  “Maverick told me that a few participants got away,” I said. “Is that how some of the artifacts associated with the cartouche became dispersed?” I continued, wanting to find out just how much Ethel knew.

  “Well,” Ethel said, “one of the people that got away from that particular ritual had the last name of ‘Blanchard’.” I inhaled a sharp breath.

  “When I looked through Sam’s phone, trying to find Ashley’s number, someone named ‘Blanchard’ was in his contacts. One of very few people.” I thought about another guest that shared the same first two letters of that last name. “Could Blanchard be Lizzie’s real last name?”

  Ethel cocked her head to the side as if she were pondering my question. “Well, it might explain how Lizzie’s daddy got to be so rich, mightn’t it?”

  I nodded as something else occurred to Ethel.

  “Do you think Lizzie knows the occult significance of any of the pieces she stole?” she asked.

  “I dunno, but if any of them is associated with the ritual, she’s in serious trouble,” I answered and then figured I should further explain. “Jormungandr always starts with the most recent host when gathering its strength to burst through the veil. That seemed to be what happened to Sam at Joe’s shop.”

  Ethel sighed. “I figured his differences with Ashley were causing him to lose sleep. I mean, even in this town, who would assume a cosmic serpent could be behind it all?”

  “I feel like in this case, we can’t say ‘stranger things have happened’.”

  Ethel nodded. “I had this feeling there was something going on between Sam and Ashley. At first, I assumed it was just Sam’s roving eye but...” Ethel looked at me. “Notice how that roving eye lands on Lizzie a lot?”

  “I do,” I admitted. “Enough that I want to find Lizzie right now.”

  “Oh, you can bet your last dollar the Council’s already pounced on that one,” Ethel answered and surprised me because I didn’t think she knew anything about the Council. Truly there was much more to Ethel than I’d previously realized. I faced her with a frown.

  “I wasn’t aware you knew about the Council, Ethel,” I started, eyeing her with interest.

  She laughed. “Oh, Sydney, there are many things you aren’t aware of regarding me.”

  “Hmm,” I started as she laughed again. “And is this the point when you’re going to tell me just how you know all of this?” I asked.

  Ethel got a big grin on her face. “Easy. I’m a cupid.”

  I felt my eyes go wide. “And here I thought cupids were just make believe.”

  She shook her head. “We’re make believe if we want to be—we’re the one supernatural creature who isn’t easily detected by other supernaturals—if we were, everyone would steer clear of us!” Then she laughed before the humor fell out of her expression and she faced me earnestly. “Promise you won’t tell anyone my secret, Syd?”

  I nodded. “I promise. Your secret is safe with me.”

  We fell into silence for another few seconds as several of the pieces that were jangling around in my head finally fell into place. Even so, I still felt uneasy.

  “Okay, what else is eating you?” Ethel asked.

  I shook my head. “Maverick wanted me to act like everything was back to normal, so as not to alert anyone in Haven Hollow, but going back to the shop at a time like this makes me feel like we’re wasting valuable time,” I confessed with a shrug. “I’d rather be doing something to make sure Jormungandr doesn’t get through.”

  “Not much you can do that the Council isn’t already doing,” Ethel pointed out. “Trust me when I say they’re all over this.”

  I nodded and took a couple of steps closer to Bailey, who had purposely slowed in her walking to rejoin Ethel and me. “How are you feeling?” I asked.

  She gave me a tight smile. “I feel just the same as I did when I left the hospital. Will you relax?” She then elbowed me in the ribs. Not hard but her point was made, all the same. I chuckled.

  “I need to pick up something at Poppy’s Potions,” I told her. “Won’t take me more than a moment. I’ll ask Ethel to stay with you ‘til I get back.”

  “C’mon, Syd, I’m not going to fall over the second you leave me.”

  “But you will stop working the moment you feel too tired, right?” I asked with a raised finger.

  The cheeky smile stayed on her face. “If you say so, boss.”

  That was as close to reassurance as I could get. So, I crossed the street to find what I needed from Poppy.

  ***

  Bailey slumped down in her rolling office chair and panted. “Okay, now I’m officially too tired.”

  I gestured around us, to the office that was now mostly set up. The silver laptop had a prominent place in the center of an old desk, while the printer sat on an equally old drafting table. “We’ve made plenty of progress just the same,” I said. “One more day should finish it.”

  “Speaking of finishing things,” Ethel started, stretching out her back. “I need to get back to the inn. Lots of housework to catch up on this evening.”

  “Thanks for all your help today,” I said.

  “Oh, honey, you helped me out plenty this week,” Ethel replied. “Only fair I return the favor.”

  “You know, I’d be happy to walk back with you,” Bailey said with a sigh. “But right now, I’m doing all I can just to sit up in this chair.”

  “Well, whenever you want to come back, I’ll leave the light on,” Ethel answered.

  “I’m happy to walk or drive you back?” I offered.

  “Oh, I can find my way just fine,” Ethel said, pulling my face down for a kiss on the cheek. “You just take care of our girl.” Then she gave me a hug. “Besides, I’m thinking I might stop over at Sweeter Haunts to get more treats for my candy bowl. I’ll see you both later.”

  I hugged her back and whispered, “Let me know if you find Ashley or Lizzie.”

  Ethel said her final goodbyes and walked out of the office. When I turned around, another surprise was waiting for me. Lorene was standing right in front of the exhausted Bailey.

  Lorene smiled and said, “Hello!” with a friendly wave.

  ***

  Lorene turned to face me. “Hi, Syd.”

  “Hello there, Lorene,” I greeted her, carefully walking around her.

  Bailey glanced back and forth between us. “You can see her?”

  “Of course, he can, silly,” Lorene replied. “He’s a Sandman.”

  A good deal of Bailey’s exhaustion faded instantly, judging by the way she perked up. “Wait! Sandman?” she asked, frowning as she started to shake her head, the shock in her eyes starting to give way to awe. “As in the stories you told us at Ethel’s?”

  The moment I was dreading had finally arrived. There was no getting around it. Given Lorene’s existence, nothing less than the truth would suffice, the Council’s contract be damned. Hopefully Bailey would agree to keep this between the two of us because I couldn’t imagine Maverick being happy about the cat getting out of the bag. “My family’s exploits provided much of the basis of those stories, yes.”

  “Then all of your family are Sandmen?” Bailey asked.

  I nodded. “We’ve been doing this since we were Scandinavian raiders. We sailed to the Egyptian Middle Kingdom as mercenaries.”

  “Wow,” Bailey said, eyes still wide. “So…what exactly does that mean?”

  “It means that every night, as per our solemn oaths to Osiris and Anubis, I go into people’s dreams to make sure all sleepers are protected.”

  “Was your wife responsible for that too?” Lorene inquired in fascination.

  “She was,” I admitted. “Until the morning I woke up and she... wasn’t.”

  “What happened?” Bailey asked in alarm.

  “She died in her sleep,” I answered with a shrug, feeling that sadness overtake me again—it was the same whenever I thought about the particulars of Melody’s death. “I never knew why. The autopsy revealed absolutely nothing. I’ve been doing my best to carry on without her ever since that day.”

  A tidal wave of guilt rolled over me at my confession, because I suddenly wondered if Bailey would be angry I hadn’t told her the truth up until now. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, Bailey,” I blurted out. “The last thing I wanted to do was deceive you—”

  Bailey pushed herself toward me, using the office chair wheels, and Lorene giggled. When she was closer, she put a hand on my arm and patted it. “Hey, it’s okay... really. For one thing, I consider that your business and whether or not you wanted to tell me was completely up to you. For another, well...” She nodded at Lorene. “I’ve been dealing with the supernatural all my life. So you being a Sandman? It’s really not a big deal.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was late when I returned to my apartment.

  After half-walking, half-dragging Bailey back to the inn, it was nearly nine o’clock when I finally made it home. Before heading upstairs, I grabbed three candles, the matchbox and the bag from Poppy’s Potions, which I’d previously placed under the counter. Dread filled me with every footstep. I needed to do this, but I wasn’t looking forward to it.

  Once I was inside my apartment, I set up the candles in front of my incense holder, forming a rough triangle with one of the points directed at me. The statue of Anubis towered over them like a dark sphinx. I grabbed the photo of Melody and me off the nightstand and placed it where the closest candle lined up with it. Then I reached into the bag and pulled out a bottle marked “Escaping Oil” along with a wax effigy of a female figure that was roughly the size of my palm. Digging a little deeper, I found the instruction sheet at the bottom of the bag.

  After taking a minute to read the instructions over, I anointed the doll with seven drops of the oil, specifically, three on the head, and four on the chest. Taking some sand from my pocket, I carefully made a circle around the mini-shrine. After lighting the candles with the matches, I shut off the bed lamp and went to the Victrola for one last requirement. Grabbing my album of “Hunky Dory,” I put on the B-side and carefully positioned the new needle on a familiar groove.

  The electric guitar strains of “Song For Bob Dylan” began to play, and I returned to the circle. Kneeling before the image of my beloved wife, I clasped my hands together and bowed my head. At no point did I break eye contact from the photo.

  “Melody,” I said before choking up, “I’m playing the song you were listening to when we first met. I hope it finds you wherever you are. Please forgive me for being so thoughtless and thinking of nothing but my own grief. Wherever you are, I want you to be able to move on, just like you were meant to do.”

  I found it harder to talk when the soulful, melancholic music continued to play in the background. “I miss you more than I can say. The life of a Sandman... my life chose me... I’ll always be amazed and grateful that you chose it too. Until I met you...” I swallowed, cleared my throat, and tried to find the right words. “After you and I found each other, I couldn’t imagine my life without you. But now...”

  The pain I felt coincided with the song’s chorus. “Now I have to imagine it. I have to go on without you.” My voice failed me and the tears I’d been holding back all this time suddenly came pouring out. “I have to let you go now, my dearest, dearest darling,” I croaked between sobs.

  My grief prevented me from speaking for a little while. I sobbed loudly as my long-denied tears finally emerged from weary eyes. All the memories of our times together, from our wedding to the grand competitions we had with maras to the mind-blowing love we made in dreamscapes, ran through me like water through a colander. They were rich and wonderful memories, yet also terrible in their pain. I’d never wanted our lives together to end and I couldn’t stand knowing that everything had to end.

  Gradually, the storm in my heart faded away. My voice returned, and I said, “I never meant to trap you with my grief. If I’d only known sooner that I was harming you, just as I was harming myself, I would have let you go a long time ago.”

  I blew out the candle on the left and the final verse of “Song For Bob Dylan” played in the background. “Thank you for always believing in me,” I murmured. “And for being there whenever I needed you.” I blew out the right candle as the chorus swelled one final time. “Thank you for making my life a richer and more vibrant place than I ever thought possible.”

  The remaining flame made a halo over Melody’s smiling image and I hesitated to blow it out. Another round of appreciation could never be too much. I finished with, “Most of all, Melody, thank you for being the most important person in my life and making me happier than I’ve ever known for fifteen wonderful years. I’ll always treasure you.”

  The song wrapped up, and I finally snuffed out the last candle with a quick exhale. The room was plunged into darkness and I bowed my head and said the word that weighed like an anchor on my tongue, “Goodbye.”

  The clinking sound of metal in front of me made me strike another match to see what it was. To my surprise, there was an ornate spoon placed right in front of the candles. It looked as though it belonged to a fine silverware collection, possibly from the nineteenth century, judging by the craftsmanship.

  A moment later, I realized the next song on the album wasn’t playing. A quick glance at the Victrola revealed the reason why: the needle had been lifted off the grooves. That made me smile. Melody had definitely heard me... wherever or whenever she was, she’d heard me and this was her way of telling me she wanted me to move on. This was her way of saying her own goodbye.