Not only had he cut Darla’s life short, but then he’d turned the gun on himself. And he’d been the poltergeist that made Finn’s life a living hell for the last year. Until I’d exorcised the SOB.

  As to Darla, I was fairly sure it was being murdered that hadn’t allowed her to leave this earthly plane. Murder victims were prone to become specters and couldn’t easily be banished. In Darla’s case, I think it was her anger that kept her here. She was beyond pissed off about missing her big break, and so decided to stick around to complain about it... for the last ninety-five years.

  But, the question was… how in the hell had she ended up here, in Haven Hollow?

  “How in the hell did you end up here?”

  She feigned extreme interest in her nails. “Oh, I stowed away.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut and forced myself to breathe in the sharp, pine scent of the cleaner to center myself. Breathe in, I will not shout at Darla. Breathe out, I will not shout at Darla...

  “What do you mean you stowed away? How?”

  She puffed up her tiny and perky bosoms, or ‘bubs’ as she called them, and appeared very indignant. “Well, I ain’t no Dumb Dora…”

  “I didn’t say you were. I just want to know how you ended up here, when you died in Los Angeles!”

  Darla chewed one painted thumbnail thoughtfully. “Will ya let me stay if I tell you?”

  I didn’t want to answer that question. Instead, I eyed her narrowly. “What object are you attached to?” That had to be it. There was no other way she could have traveled with us. And that meant there was no getting rid of her unless I got rid of the object in question.

  Dammit.

  Not that I minded Darla so much. Unlike the ghost of Frankie, who had a mean streak a mile wide, Darla was harmless. As ghosts went, she was the least objectionable one I’d come across. True, she was more likely to give unsolicited and outdated fashion advice than my mother, but she was ultimately innocuous. So what if she droned endlessly about the talkies she’d just missed starring in?

  I started down the ladder, my skin screaming against the cold of her proximity.

  “Butt me, dollface, an’ we’ll talk about it.”

  “You know I don’t smoke, Darla, and even if I did, you wouldn’t be able to.”

  “Thanks for reminding me,” she grumbled.

  “What object did you attach yourself to?” I repeated.

  “I ain’t gonna tell you if you’re just gonna go all Mrs. Grundy on me.”

  Mrs. Grundy was a 1920s term for an uptight individual. Mrs. Grundy aside, I suddenly realized I could use Darla for something—for getting an answer to a question I’d been wondering.

  “We can talk about whatever object you’ve attached yourself to later,” I started.

  “We can?”

  I nodded. “First, I need you to tell me if there are any other spirits in this house? Maybe one of a man murdered here?” I remembered the nightmares I’d been having lately and how I’d thought maybe this person had died in the house, hence the visions.

  Darla cocked her head to the side and appeared to be thinking. Then she shook it. “Can’t say as I feel anyone else.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Well, seein’ as how I’m a ghost, I would know if there were more of my kind here.”

  That was true. And it was the reason I’d asked her in the first place. “So you don’t feel any other spiritual energy? What about residual haunting energy?”

  There are two types of hauntings—residual and intelligent. Residual hauntings occur when something traumatic happens in a space, such as a murder. Negative energy is literally blasted into the atmosphere, causing the space to imprint or record whatever happened. Then the energy just replays the events over and over again. But, there is no interaction between the living and the dead in a residual haunting. The entities involved are unaware of their surroundings. It’s literally just an imprint of a different time.

  An intelligent haunting is different. An intelligent haunting is a spirit who can interact with his or her surroundings. In this case, the person is still the same as he or she was in life, but now they’re just missing their bodies. This is the type of haunt usually referred to as a ‘ghost’. Darla was a good example of an intelligent haunting.

  “Nope, nothing like that either,” she said. “Looks like it’s just you and me, toots.”

  “Hmm,” I said, shaking my head, because it didn’t make sense and I wasn’t sure what to make of the visions now.

  Maybe they weren’t visions at all, I told myself. Maybe they were literally just nightmares that seemed overly real?

  That was certainly the easiest explanation to go with. But, there was still something that didn’t sit well with me. “When we first moved in, I felt a few cold spots,” I started, looking at Darla again.

  “Oh, that was me.”

  I glared at her. “You were already here? Before the furniture arrived?”

  “Right.”

  I shook my head, still curious as to what she’d attached herself to, but I knew that conversation was going to take a lot of effort and, at the moment, there was one topic that outweighed all the others. And that topic needed to be discussed post haste.

  “You and I need to come to an understanding right now,” I started, eyeing Darla narrowly.

  “And what’s that?”

  “If Finn finds out you’re here, he’s going to flip out. If you’re going to stay here, under no circumstances are you to ever reveal yourself to Finn, understood?”

  “Does that mean you’re gonna let me stay?”

  Did that mean I was going to let her stay? I sighed. “Until you give me reason not to.”

  “Whoopee!” Darla giggled and then promptly disappeared into the wall.

  I muttered a nasty word beneath my breath and then groped for change in a pocket that wasn’t there. I’d need to add fifty cents to the swear jar by morning. I had a feeling it’d be overflowing by month’s end.

  I was more than sure Darla wouldn’t keep her promise and at some point, Finn was going to see her, whether she intended it or not.

  Family blowup in t-minus a few weeks everybody…

  Chapter Seven

  I eased the Jeep into place behind a silver Toyota, narrowly avoiding hitting the rear bumper.

  “Jeez, Mom…” Finn said as he looked over at me with concern. “Are you feeling okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I answered and inhaled deeply.

  But, I wasn’t fine—I was exhausted.

  I’d had another nightmare. This one also featuring that awful creature and the man. And, just like the other two instances, I couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night. And I still didn’t have any answers—Darla had insisted there were no other spirits in the house, and there wasn’t any residual energy either. And that meant I had nothing to go on. I didn’t know who this man was—I didn’t even know his name!

  And that doesn’t matter, I reminded myself. Because I’m not about to derail my life to figure out what happened to the guy. I have enough going on with moving to a new town, getting Finn settled and opening a store. I don’t have time to add the mystery of whatever happened to this guy to the pile.

  Even though I was fairly sure that was exactly the reason I kept having the nightmare visions—because whoever this man was, he was reaching out to me.

  Well, I’m not going to answer!

  The nightmares were wearing me out, leaving me more tired than when I’d first gone to bed. On any other day, I’d have gone home, taken an Ambien and slipped underneath the downy comforter to take a long nap. But today wasn’t an ordinary day. Today was Finn’s first day of school.

  The dropoff line was relatively small, probably owing to the fact that we were so early. Finn hadn’t wanted to be late on his first day, and I didn’t blame him. Even thirty minutes before school started, I noticed the neat gravel parking lot to the side of the school was already full. And other students were arriving either on foot or riding bikes.

  Not that I was surprised—Haven Hollow was the smallest town I’d ever seen, so no wonder the Norman Rockwell vibe carried over to the mode of transportation of the students. Back in Los Angeles, most parents wouldn’t allow their kids to walk or bike to school. There were just too many weirdos, too much traffic, too many things that could go wrong…

  But here…

  Here you could go for miles without even encountering another vehicle on the road. It was almost unsettling, in a way. Cities like Los Angeles were constantly moving, everyone busily going here or there, and doing this or that. It was almost like the city had a pulse.

  Here things were different. They were still. Quiet. And at the risk of sounding cliché, it was almost... too quiet.

  Like the quiet you experience in a graveyard. The quiet of death.

  Wow, I need an attitude adjustment… pronto.

  While that might have been true, the tight knot of worry in my stomach didn’t budge. I was a terrible motivational speaker, even to myself.

  “What do you think of Haven Middle School?” Finn asked as he read the name off the sign in front. Prior to this moment, I wasn’t even sure he knew the name of his new school.

  I peered suspiciously at the school building. It seemed ordinary from the outside. A squat brick building with a set of double doors out front. The only horrors Finn was likely to face inside were Common Core Curriculum and exasperated, underpaid teachers.

  “It looks like a nice place,” I said as I turned to face him with a smile. “I think you’ll really like it here and you’ll make some really good friends.”

  He nodded as he kept his eyes on the school. “I’m excited.”

  “You have your backpack?” I asked.

  “Mom, you’ve asked me that like three times. And… yes, I still have my backpack.”

  I laughed. “I’m sorry… I just have a lot on my mind with getting the shop ready to open and making enough potions in time…”

  Finn reached over and patted my hand. “Just breathe, Mom. You’re gonna do fine.”

  “Thanks, buddy.” I was quiet for a second as another thought hit me. “You remembered to grab your lunch off the counter, right? And you have your phone?”

  Finn reached down to unbuckle his belt, rolling his eyes as he gave me a big smile. “Yep, and I’ve even got a partridge in a pear tree, Mom. I’ve got everything.”

  I was stressed out—I couldn’t hide it. I felt like my mind was on so many different subjects when it should have just been on my son and his first day of school and the fact that he’d actually brushed his hair without me having to tell him for the first time… ever.

  “You look very handsome, buddy,” I said, feeling pride welling up within me.

  Finn’s face scrunched up in an expression of disgust. “Mom, now you’re just getting embarrassing.”

  I took a deep breath. “Sorry, Nibbles.”

  Finn’s eyes went wide. “Make sure no one hears you call me that!”

  I laughed. “We’re still in the car and you haven’t opened the door yet.”

  He nodded, but didn’t look convinced. “Maybe you should just call me those silly names at our house and that’s… it.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay, Mom,” he answered with a sigh that became a big grin.

  “You have a great day at school and take good notes in class and do your best to pay attention, okay?”

  “I will, Mom.”

  “And try to talk to lots of kids and make friends.”

  “Okay, Mom.”

  “And make sure you eat all the apples in your lunch and eat the entire sandwich… and I mean the entire sandwich! Otherwise, I’m not going to put brownies in your lunch again.”

  “Okay, Mom.”

  “Do I get a hug or is that not cool?” I asked as he looked over at me with those huge blue eyes that were filled with excitement and trepidation.

  “You always get a hug, Mom,” Finn answered as he leaned over and wrapped his arms around me. “I love you.”

  “I love you too, sweetie pie.”

  “Mom,” he warned as he pulled away.

  “Okay, I love you too, dude.”

  “That’s better.”

  I laughed, and it felt good. My mood was beginning to lift as I watched Finn open the door and jump down to the ground below. He was wearing the new outfit he’d picked out at Target before we moved to Haven Hollow—black jeans with a long-sleeved black shirt that had a picture of a skeleton on a skateboard.

  “Bye, Mom,” he said as he shut the passenger door and waved.

  I felt tears stinging my eyes, but I blinked them away. My little guy was growing up so quickly. It felt like yesterday that he was just learning how to walk and then talk. And now? Now he was in sixth grade and headed off to a new school and…

  I laughed as he did a funny little dance (no doubt from Fortnite) and then jumped over the curb in front of him, striding toward the front doors like he was being chased by the devil himself.

  And now it was time for the Mama Bear to let the Baby Bear go. Finn was headed for a day of new adventures, new people and new memories to be made. I took a deep breath and nodded, putting the Jeep into reverse.

  I raised a sheepish hand to acknowledge the blonde soccer mom who’d been driving the Toyota—the one I’d very nearly run into. She gave me a quick nod before climbing in. I couldn’t help but notice most of the parents dropping their kids off looked younger than I did. Not that I was super surprised. As far as having kids went, I was sort of late to the game. I’d had Finn at thirty-two. It wasn’t exactly the way I’d planned things when I set out into the wilds of adulthood. Part of me always thought I’d follow the same path my parents had. AKA find a nice young man, marry him, have a kid or two, travel around for a bit and then settle down into domestic bliss.

  Life, thus far, had been a washed out back road with plenty of pits and roadkill along the way. Well, except for one thing…

  Finn.

  When any negative thoughts began to swarm my mind, stinging me like vengeful Yellow Jackets, all I had to do was think of my son. And, immediately, my mood lightened. And that was an important thing because magic was all in your thoughts, all in your head and it was dependent on your frame of mind, your mood. If your thoughts were dark, so then would be your magic.

  And my magic wasn’t dark.

  Yes, anytime the worries of life started to intrude, I just had to think of the most thoughtful boy in the world. And that was when I realized how lucky I truly was.

  Everything is going to be okay, I told myself as I looked at the tree-lined street in front of me. Cute houses with picket fences delineated both sides, and children hurried to school as the bell tolled in the distance.

  There’s no need to worry anymore. This time will be different. This town is different. And you’ve already made a friend.

  If that’s what Marty was.

  There was something to that man. A quality I liked, something about him that seemed genuine and kind. But part of me was still leery, even if Finn liked him. Every man had an agenda, in my experience. It was just like Ophelia had said…

  I’d need to take a wait and see approach where Marty was concerned. Where every man was concerned. This time I was going to be very careful about the people I kept in my inner circle—dating or otherwise. This time, I was going to guard my heart and I’d only let those people in who deserved it.

  This time was going to be different.

  ***

  It was a fairly straight shot from Haven Middle School back to the house. Just seven miles on a stretch of narrow, winding highway. I didn’t have to cut through town but, on a whim, I did. I just wanted to drive by my shop. Just to see it again. Just to remind myself this dream of mine was really real and not only real, it was in the midst of coming true.

  The Jeep slowed to a crawl as I turned onto Main Street. I drove down the blocks of picturesque street, the bank of maple trees in the middle separating both directions of traffic. The trees were changing color and the leaves that had already lost their battle with Autumn were now decorating the curb on either side.

  The city of Haven Hollow rested in the slope between two steep hills, under an almost constant layer of heavy gray clouds. The sun rarely broke through those clouds, giving the town an almost gloomy air. I suspected that suited the residents of Haven Hollow just fine. The brochures on the town that Ophelia had included in her gift basket revealed a history of hauntings, strange happenings, and, worryingly, an urban legend about a witch who’d lived in the Tayir House, on the outskirts of town, almost a century ago.

  I sincerely hoped that urban legend wasn’t true.

  It was entirely possible that a witch could still be alive and kicking after a century. And even if the Tayir Witch had died under mysterious circumstances, as the literature claimed, a witch having lived in Haven Hollow could still wreak havoc on my life here. As a rule, witches didn’t let go of their territories. If a witch had lived in the Tayir House, that meant the witch’s coven still owned the land.

  But, I’d checked to make sure no witches owned land in Haven Hollow. I’d done my homework.

  So what are you worried about? I asked myself.

  I’m not worried! Besides, this is my town now! I reminded myself. And no witch is going to force me out!

  Hmph, what about a witch and the entire coven standing behind her?

  It’s not like I don’t have magic, I argued back. As Gypsies go, I’m powerful.

  True, but you don’t have witch magic. And there’s a difference. And you also don’t have the benefit of thirty or so bffs backing you up.

  Right... I have McFly.

  And that wasn’t much of a consolation.

  Regardless, you did your research and there were no witches staking claim to Haven Hollow, so stop freaking out and focus on positive things, instead!

  So that’s exactly what I did. I focused on the adorable downtown area of Haven Hollow and tried to force thoughts of witches to the back of my mind.