Infuriated anyone would have invaded my sanctuary, I headed to the front door, but the lock seemed untouched. I next examined all the windows in the small house and didn’t notice anything amiss. I knew without a doubt that someone had been inside my home, but how had they entered? A chill went through me at the thought someone might have had a key to my place. I wasn’t the type who handed out my key easily. My closest friend Claire didn’t even have a key to my home.

  Perhaps I simply hadn’t closed my door all the way? Maybe no one had broken in. Maybe whoever had taken the stone from my mantle was simply an opportunist. Occasionally, local kids cut through the deserted field behind my shop to get into the heart of town quicker. It was possible one of them had noticed my back door wasn’t closed all the way and had snuck in. The colorful green stone was something that might catch the eye of a kid.

  I wanted to believe that theory, but my gut said I was rationalizing. My intuition screamed I’d had a prowler. But why me? It didn’t take a genius to see my shop wasn’t exactly thriving at the moment. Pierson’s candy store down the street would have been a far more lucrative target. They made money no matter what the weather. And Linda Coleridge’s nail salon, The Lacquered Labyrinth, on the other side of me did okay. The locals and their fungus-laden toenails kept her in business year-round.

  If I suspected someone had a key to my place, the obvious next step was to have the locks changed. Hiring a locksmith meant spending money I didn’t have or want to spend. Of course, there was always the DIY route. I could probably fumble my way through changing a door lock if I had to.

  Feeling agitated, I went back into the kitchen and finished putting away the groceries. I saw no point in calling the cops since no one had broken in, and the only thing taken that I knew of was the stone. I felt sick that the stone was gone, but knew the cops weren’t exactly going to put out an APB for my lost treasure.

  Once I had everything put away, I went to check the small attached garage on the side of my shop to see if that lock had been tampered with. It was called a garage, but technically it was just a little shed. The lock seemed untouched, so I decided to go next door to the nail salon. I was curious if perhaps my immediate neighbor Linda had seen or heard anything suspicious. As I entered the shop, a little bell jingled over the door and all the women sitting at the little tables turned their heads in unison. I winced at the pungent scent of acetone. Feeling conspicuous, I acknowledged the young man, Julian, who worked as a receptionist at the salon with a nod.

  “Hey, Lorenzo,” Julian said, his gaze sharpening. He was an attractive blond with light green eyes, a lip piercing, and a perpetual smirk. “I just got here. My calculus class ran late. I’m glad I didn’t miss you.”

  “Is that right?” I gave a stilted laugh.

  “Damn straight.” Julian winked. “Seeing you is always the highlight of my day.”

  “Is that so?” I was still painfully aware of the women staring at me.

  “You betcha.”

  I grimaced. “Okay, rein it in, Casanova.”

  Julian’s flirtatious interest in me made me uncomfortable. First of all, he was only nineteen. While he was a good-looking kid, he was way too young. I suspected his interest in me stemmed from his fascination with all things psychic. He’d begged me many times to help him develop his psychic abilities. I’d tried to explain that wasn’t what I did, but he persisted.

  “Haven’t seen you around lately.” He rested his chin on his knuckles, running his eyes over me. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

  I sighed. “Julian, stop.”

  He grinned. “Why?”

  “Because,” I spluttered. “You’re too much.”

  “Or, am I just enough?” He batted his lashes.

  “God,” I groaned. “You’re going to start rumors.” One of the women nearby giggled, and I hoped it wasn’t because of my conversation with Julian.

  “I don’t mind if you don’t.”

  I widened my eyes. “I think I’ve made it clear that I definitely mind.” I glanced around noticing two women watching me as they soaked their feet in bubbly water.

  He laughed and straightened. “Okay, fine. I can see you’re shy.”

  “I’m not shy. I’m too old for you.”

  “I disagree. But if you won’t let me seduce you, will you at least change your mind about taking me on as a student?”

  I grimaced. “No.”

  He frowned. “Why not?”

  “I don’t really have time to do that, Julian.” Obviously, he knew that was a lie. From the reception desk, he had a clear view of the front of my shop. He knew perfectly well I had plenty of time on my hands.

  “You’re so stubborn.” His face fell and he tugged at the piercing in his lip. Then he brightened. “Hey, maybe if you don’t have time to teach me stuff, I could just learn from watching you. I could be your assistant.”

  I found Julian’s persistence bewildering. I’d made it more than clear I wasn’t interested in anything sexual, but he still kept flirting. Was he simply someone who couldn’t take no for an answer? Or was there something more going on? He said he wanted my help to grow his psychic abilities, but I’d never found him to be particularly intuitive or psychically inclined. Whatever his reasons for being so pushy, I still didn’t want to become involved with him on any level. I simply didn’t have the energy to feed whatever need he had. “I’m sorry, Julian. At the moment, I don’t need an assistant.”

  He sighed, his glum expression returning. “You sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  His eyes darkened. “You’re making a mistake. I could be a valuable ally—er . . . asset, Lorenzo.”

  “This isn’t even about you, Julian. I promise you that. I’m sure you’d be a great help to me,” I said, hoping to pacify him. “But I like working alone. It’s just how I’m built.”

  Julian narrowed his eyes but didn’t respond.

  I shifted uneasily. “Is Linda here today?”

  “Yeah.” Still looking crestfallen, he pointed toward the long row of work stations. “She’s at the end doing Mrs. Tully’s nails.”

  I scanned the room and pinpointed Linda at the end of the work stations working on an older woman’s nails. She was a short full-figured redhead with a ready smile. She was the sort of person who, even if you’d just met her, made you feel like you were her best friend. She had hundreds of customers, but she managed to make each one feel special. “I see her. Do you think it’s okay if I interrupt her while she’s working?”

  “Sure.” His eyes were alert and fixed on me. “Is something wrong? Is that why you need to talk to Linda?”

  “Nothing’s really wrong.” I hesitated, wondering if maybe I should ask Julian if he’d seen anything. But he’d just arrived to work, so he wouldn’t have been at the salon when I had my unwelcome visitor. “I just need to ask her a question.”

  “In that case, you can go talk to her. I’m sure she won’t mind.”

  “Thanks, Julian.” I ignored the stab of guilt I felt at his morose expression and headed toward Linda’s workstation.

  “Hello, Lorenzo,” Linda said brightly as I approached. “Finally decided to get a manicure?”

  I laughed. “Not today.”

  She pouted. “One of these days I’m going to get my hands on those ragged cuticles of yours.”

  I winced. “I know. They’re pretty bad.”

  “Yes, they are and they aren’t going to get any better on their own.”

  “I promise to make an appointment soon.”

  “You’ve been saying that for years.” She smiled good naturedly. “So, if you aren’t here to have your nails done, what can I do for you?”

  I glanced hesitantly at the older woman whose nails she was doing. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

  “That’s okay,” the woman said, giving me a curious glance. She had a grandmotherly vibe, with permed white hair and rosy cheeks.

  Linda smiled. “Lorenzo, this is Helen Tully. Helen, this is Lorenzo Winston, psychic extraordinaire.”

  I laughed at her description of me.

  Helen studied me with curious gray eyes. “You’re the Great Lorenzo?”

  I winced inwardly at the “Great.”

  “That’s me.”

  “You’re so much younger than I pictured.”

  “Oh, I’m old enough. Psychic powers aren’t attached to age. I’ve been psychic my whole life.”

  “Goodness,” she murmured. “I . . . I was toying with the idea of having a reading with you.”

  “Were you?” I tried not to sound too excited.

  “Yes. So, you actually talk to . . . dead people?” Helen’s voice wobbled.

  “I connect to their spirits, yes.” I gave her a reassuring smile. “I know it sounds strange, but it’s not scary at all. It’s actually very comforting. Most of my clients come away feeling so happy they gave it a chance.”

  She sighed. “My sister passed last weekend, and I was hoping maybe you could help me say goodbye. She died so suddenly, I didn’t get the chance. Now there are so many things left unsaid.”

  I frowned. “I’m sorry. Closure is important. I could definitely help you talk to her. Then you could say all the things you didn’t have time for before she died.”

  Helen nodded hesitantly.

  I tugged a card from my shirt pocket. “Give me a call when you’re ready.”

  Helen looked at the card and then at her nails. “I don’t want to smudge the polish.”

  I smiled and set my business card on the table next to her. “No problem. My number’s on the card. Feel free to give me a call anytime. My schedule is very flexible.”

  Understatement of the century.

  Maybe Linda took pity on me because she gushed, “He’s really good. You should definitely book an appointment with him, Helen.” Then, to me, “Now, what was it you wanted to ask me, Lorenzo?” Linda smiled politely, going back to painting Helen’s nails.

  I cleared my throat. “I was wondering, did you notice anyone hanging around my shop earlier?”

  She frowned and stopped painting Helen’s nails. “No. Not that I recall. To be honest, though, I’ve been busy today. Haven’t gone outside at all.”

  “I see.” I tried to stuff down my envy that she had so many customers.

  “Why do you ask if I saw anyone around your shop?” Linda blinked up at me.

  Grimacing, I said, “I think someone might have broken—gotten into my shop while I was at the market.”

  “Goodness.” She bugged her eyes. “In broad daylight?”

  Helen looked startled. “Someone was inside your shop when you weren’t there? Good Lord. I had no idea this neighborhood had gone downhill like that.” Helen shuddered, glancing warily around as if criminals lurked beneath the little work stations.

  Linda grimaced. “Oh, the neighborhood is fine. I’m sure that was just an isolated incident.”

  Feeling guilty that I’d possibly scared off one of Linda’s customers, I said quickly, “I’m sure Linda’s right. The area is fine. Just fine. Nothing was really taken, so it was probably just kids.”

  Child burglars who apparently could teach John “The Cat” Robie a thing or two.

  Helen appeared unconvinced. Lowering her voice, she said, “Did you hear about the body they found near the library?”

  Linda shivered. “Yes. Ghastly.”

  Recoiling, I asked, “What?”

  “They found a body.” Looking around shiftily, Helen hissed, “They say he was missing his head.”

  Gasping, Linda said, “I know. It’s too horrible.”

  “When was this?” I asked, rattled.

  “Yesterday evening.” Helen gritted her teeth. “I know the woman who found the body. She was traumatized. Probably going to need therapy now.”

  “Of course,” I murmured as a chill zipped up my spine. “Do they know who the killer was?”

  “No. That’s the scary part. So far the police have absolutely no clues. None at all.” Helen shook her head. “Fox Harbor PD had better get their act together.”

  “I haven’t been getting the paper lately,” I murmured. “I hadn’t heard anything about any of that.”

  “Grisly business.” Linda shuddered and then tsk-tsked, frowning at Helen’s nails. “Boo. I messed up.”

  “Oh, dear.” Helen lifted her brows.

  Linda smiled. “Not to worry. I know how to fix it.” She hesitated and glanced up at me. “I’m sorry I didn’t see anyone around your shop, Lorenzo, but I’ll definitely keep my eyes peeled from now on.”

  “Uh, great.” I was still reeling from the news about the headless body.

  “Maybe you should buy a burglar alarm while you’re at the hardware store, Lorenzo.” Linda’s gaze was very serious. “Locks can be picked.”

  “She’s right.” Helen nodded eagerly. “That headless corpse might just be the first of many. Who knows?”

  I winced. “I hope you’re wrong.”

  “Of course. I hope I’m wrong too.” Helen sighed. “But I’ve always heard that once someone kills, they can’t always stop. They get a taste for it.”

  “Dreadful.” Linda shivered.

  “I might buy one of those do-it-yourself alarms.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “You ladies have me a little freaked out.”

  “Everyone is freaked out. Mayor Spears even held a press conference telling everyone to keep their eyes and ears open. She also said we all needed to stay calm.” Helen grimaced. “Easy for her to say. She lives in a gated community with private security.”

  “I probably should have installed a burglar alarm ages ago,” I said, moving toward the door. “Well, you ladies have a nice day.”

  “You too,” Linda said cheerfully.

  Once more all the heads of the customers turned in unison, following me as I made my way to the exit.

  Julian gave me a flirty smile as I passed, and he leaned over the counter. “Don’t be a stranger, Lorenzo.”

  Once outside, I sucked in a breath of fresh sea air. The atmosphere inside the nail salon had been saturated with chemicals. I had a bit of a headache from simply being in there a short time. I couldn’t imagine how Linda handled that smell day in, day out.

  I decided to walk to the hardware store because, while I had a car, it was a piece of junk. Plus, it was a nice enough day. Brisk but not too cold. I wanted to stretch my legs to work off some of the stress that had been building inside of me for a while now.

  Magnolia Lane was a charming little street with scattered shops mingled in with residential homes. The zoning had changed from residential to business-residential decades ago. The city wanted to buy out the homeowners and revitalize the street with new stores, but there were several older homeowners who refused to budge. Because of that the street remained an eclectic mix of venues.

  Purple lobelia grew in thick clumps at the foot of the trees along the lane. Despite the name, Magnolia Lane had more oak trees than magnolias. I ran my fingers lightly along the top of one white picket fence, enjoying the sun on my face. I needed to focus on what was good in my life. Yes, I was having money issues. But to be honest, if your problems could be solved by throwing money at them, you were pretty lucky. I had to believe things would turn around for me. For now, I had a roof over my head. Just the fact that I still had a head was apparently something to be grateful for these days. Just ask that poor decapitated soul who’d been found down by the library.

  I was jolted from my thoughts by a strange growling noise across the street. I was passing Harold’s Smoke Shop and the sound seemed to come from the dumpster area to the side of the store. Frowning, I continued walking, wondering if what I’d heard was a cat fight about to begin. There were a lot of stray cats on this street and they were forever squaring off.

  My head tingled, and I realized I was inadvertently tapping into someone—or—something unpleasant and inhuman. Uneasiness shifted through me as a dark presence seemed to surround me. Despite the warmth of the sun, I shivered as a chill spread throughout my body. My legs felt heavy, and my breathing became labored. Sweat broke out on my face as I continued to move along the lane. I caught a scent of the same sweet tobacco I’d smelled in my home. The hairs on the back of my neck stiffened when I thought I heard a snide laugh.

  A dull ache began to spread along my lower abdomen, and I pressed my hand to my stomach.

  “Shit,” I hissed, feet stumbling.

  I was stunned by the force of negative energy swirling around me. I’d rarely encountered truly malevolent otherworldly forces either living or dead. Yes, there was the occasional ill-tempered ghost like Agatha, but they rarely had much power. Certainly not from a distance. This force was hostile and unlike anything I’d ever encountered.

  As the aggressive energy buzzed through me, it was impossible not to think of the headless corpse near the library. But surely that couldn’t have been the work of a spirit? It was far more likely a mentally sick human had committed a murder.

  The cloying scent of that tobacco grew stronger as did the pain in my gut. I stopped walking and pinned my gaze on the area where the growl had originated. I could still definitely sense some sort of energy over there. Sometimes angry spirits could affect humans physically when they fixated their wrath on them. It was rare that they had much range, but it did happen. Was that what was going on here? Most bitter, angry spirits were cowards when challenged. Perhaps confronting the spirit would break the connection.

  Heart racing, I stepped off the curb. I headed toward the garbage area, intent on facing down the wayward energy. I was about three feet away when all at once the pain stopped and the scent evaporated. Gasping a deep breath, relief flooded me. I probably should have simply walked away, but I was pissed off that whatever it was had been brazen enough to reach out to me.

  I yanked open the big metal door that hid the dumpster from the public. The rancid smell of garbage made me gag, and I waved away the buzzing flies. There didn’t seem to be any lingering spirits though. Just garbage—until something glittering near the rusty wheel of the dumpster caught my eye. Frowning, I bent down and found the green stone that had been stolen from my home.