“Who did you have in mind?”

  “That’s the best part.” She claps, rising to her feet and smiling like she’s about to pull a rabbit out of a hat. “My granddaughter Britt has been working in Greenville, training at the crime lab at Clemson. She’s got the best possible credentials.”

  My stomach tightens. “Britt said she wasn’t coming back to Eureka.”

  The last time I saw Edna’s granddaughter—at her going away party, which my youngest brother tricked me into attending—she’d said she wanted to define her life outside this town and her family’s reputation.

  “Oh, poo.” Edna waves her hand. “Guinevere will call her. She’ll want to be back in her hometown with her best friends and family.”

  I’m not so sure of that. I’m also not so sure about her working with me. Britt Bailey is too young and too pretty, and on the night of her farewell party, things got a little too blurry on the back porch of her friend’s home.

  We somehow wound up out there alone, and we started talking about her life in Eureka, my time in the Marines, her dreams, my son. It was the first time I’d seen her as the only sane member of her family.

  Our bodies had drifted closer until we were almost touching, and the conversation faded away. She blinked those pretty green eyes up at me, and the starlight shone on the tips of her blonde hair. She smelled like fresh flowers and the ocean, and her pink lips were so full and inviting. It had been so long since I’d lost myself in the depths of a beautiful woman…

  Obviously, I’d had too much whiskey.

  “I can tell by your pleased expression you like this idea.” Edna nods. “I’ll have Gwen call her today, and I’ll let you know how soon she can get started.”

  “That wasn’t what I was thinking.” My expression was not pleased. “Is she even old enough to work here?”

  “She’s twenty-eight, Aiden. Don’t be ageist.”

  Seven years younger than me.

  “But this would be her first actual job as a crime scene investigator?”

  “She’s an experienced forensic photographer. You can get her up to speed on the rest. She’s a fast learner.” Edna picks up her phone, excitedly tapping on the face. “Trust me, once you have my granddaughter at your side, you’ll wonder how you ever survived without her. The vibrations are shifting already.”

  I’m sure they are, and it’s exactly what’s putting me on guard.

  CHAPTER 2

  BRITT

  “Thank you for inviting me to your group. I’m so excited to be here.” I stand in front of a white marble fireplace with my hands clasped, doing my best not to fidget as I meet the eyes of the small group of elite females sitting on plush velvet sofas and chairs in front of me.

  The Greenville Ladies Club meets in Keekee Waters’s well-appointed living room once a month, and I’ve been invited for the first time by my new friend of two days Maylyn Evers.

  We met in a “primal movement” fitness class at the Y, which I’d attended with the express purpose of making new friends. I’ve been in Greenville six months, and I still hardly know anybody.

  “The GLC is better than the Junior League because we actually work on our selves,” Maylyn had bragged, tapping her towel around the edges of her fully made-up face after our class. “Keekee’s husband is on the board at Clemson, so they’re practically town royalty.”

  I smiled, gulping air like a fish out of water. I was a hot mess in no makeup, my blonde hair frizzed out around my temples, my cheeks pink, and my face shining with sweat. I wasn’t sure I was ready to meet town royalty, but I was tired of eating ramen and watching reruns of The Closer with my dog every night.

  Now I’m standing in the nicest room I’ve ever seen, introducing myself to a very select group of twin-set-and-pearls-wearing ladies with perfectly coiffed hair, surrounded by little flowery cups of tea.

  Two arched, built-in bookcases are on either side of the fireplace. They hold books with titles like Get Out of Your Own Way and Somehow I Manage, and mixed throughout are little trinkets and pewter-framed pictures of Keekee’s smiling family.

  In one, a little girl in a smocked blue-and-white seersucker dress with a bow as big as her head sits beside a boy in a white short-sleeved shirt and matching seersucker shorts. In another the kids are joined by Keekee and her Ken-doll looking husband. He even has a sweater tied around his neck like one of those Ralph Lauren models.

  This entire house could be a Ralph Lauren pop-up.

  “We’re so glad to have you, Birgitte.” Keekee’s voice is low and superior-sounding. She’s dressed in a pale pink cardigan and pearls like she’s a queen, and her dark bob looks like it wouldn’t move in a strong wind.

  “Everybody just calls me Britt.” I exhale a laugh, glancing down.

  I’m like one of those girls on that Bridgerton show on Netflix, standing in front of the queen, hoping for her approval. Maylynn’s eyebrows are lifted and furrowed in a compassionate arch, and she presses her lips into a smile like she’s so proud of me, her little find.

  Glancing down at my thin, pastel dress, I shove my long blonde bangs behind my ears as I take a deep breath and answer the introductory question. “I guess my biggest fear is drowning.”

  I leave off the part about how I’m sure it’s clearly related to my escape-artist father’s tragic death by drowning when I was only ten years-old.

  “Drowning.” Keekee nods, and the other women follow her lead, nodding as they glance from me to her. “A valid fear.”

  Encouraged, I exhale, allowing all my anxieties to flow out on a tidal wave of words. “Like the other night, I had this dream I was driving a car with flat tires in a terrible rain storm. So I drove to a gas station to get air for the tires, but I didn’t realize there was an enormous pool of water in the center of the pumps, and when I hit it, the water just rushed up the sides of the car. Well, I panicked and tried to keep just a-pumping the gas pedal so it wouldn’t stall out before I got to the other side. Well, the engine started sputtering, so I opened the door to try and push it to the other side, Fred Flintstone-style…” I turn to the side, holding my hands on an invisible steering wheel in front of me, and I stomp to demonstrate how I was trying to push the car through the water. “But when I opened the door, all that water just flooded into the vehicle, and I was being sucked down deeper and deeper because the bottom of the car had disappeared and I was actually in a black ocean. Until I woke up in a panic, covered in sweat.”

  I shrug, helplessly slapping my hands down to my sides. “Analyze that,” I laugh, nodding as I glance around the room.

  It’s so quiet, I hear a car door slam from across the street. All eyes in the room are fixed on me, and Maylynn’s compassionate pride has turned to confused horror.

  “Well, I’ll be.” Is all Keekee says. “It seems someone forgot the rule about not driving through standing water. Mary Pat? Would you like to go next?”

  Heat prickles up the back of my neck, and the other attendees blink down to their teacups as if they’re afraid my rejection might be contagious if they look at me.

  I am clearly not the diamond of this season’s Bridgerton court.

  Mary Pat hops up quickly, stepping beside me in front of the fireplace. She bounces on the toes of her white canvas tennis shoes, effectively scooting me to the wings as she shares her biggest fear.

  “My biggest fear is embarrassing Nelson when his parents visit.” Mary Pat rolls her eyes and laughs as she tilts her pixie head side to side. “I know, I’m such an airhead, but I’m always afraid I’ll put too much cilantro in the guacamole or I’ll forget to empty the bathroom trash can. His mother is so strict about cleaning.”

  “Tell me about it.” One of the ladies across from us joins the chat. “Bill’s mother actually checks behind the children’s ears when she hugs them. Like they’re not bathed!”

  All the ladies squeal and launch into stories of their monsters-in-law. My entire body is on fire with humiliation. I don’t have a mother-in-law or kids, and I tuck my chin as I return to my seat beside Maylynn, who shifts away from me to talk to her neighbor.

  The rest of the meeting, no one speaks to me, and I spend the hour nibbling a tiny sandwich with no crust and listening to the women discuss getting grass stains out of their children’s “play clothes” or what to do when you accidentally shrink your husband’s wool sweaters.

  When the meeting finally ends, Maylynn stands and walks over to a cluster of ladies across the room, and I make my way to the front door alone. Keekee, the perfect hostess, catches me before I can escape.

  “It was so interesting to meet you, Birgitte.” Her tone makes me feel like an exotic insect she discovered in her yard. “You have such a unique perspective.”

  I’m pretty sure that’s not a compliment. “You have a very nice house.”

  She tilts her head, smiling as she blinks slowly, as if to say, I know, and holds the door in a way that makes me think she might push me out with it.

  It’s the last straw. My mamma didn’t raise me to be treated like dirt—even if my family is a bit… different.

  “You have an interesting perspective as well.” I lift my chin. “Thanks for the sandwich. It was the best part of the meeting, and even it was pretty bland.”

  Her jaw drops, and I walk out to my ancient Ford pickup. The door makes a loud popping noise when I open it, but I keep my head high, climbing inside and slamming it shut. I pull the visor down, and the keys drop into my lap.

  My best friend Cass, who can literally fix anything, wired my old truck with a Bluetooth system, and I quickly type my address into the app on my phone.

  It actually takes a map to escape this Stepford-wives subdivision. “Every third house is the same,” I mutter. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they actually were automatons.”

  Once I’ve got the route, I turn on my favorite Shania Twain playlist, and blast “That Don’t Impress Me Much,” as I pass two-story brick homes situated on cul-de-sac after cul-de-sac.

  I’m singing at the top of my lungs and finally on the road to my place when my phone starts to ring. With a glance, I see it’s my mom.

  “Hi, Mom!”

  “Are you sitting down?” My mother’s voice is low and urgent—like every time she calls me.

  “I’m driving, so I’d better be!”

  “Oh, I’ll call you back. I don’t want you distracted driving.”

  “It’s okay, Mom, I’ve got both hands on the wheel. What’s the matter?”

  “You need to come home now.”

  If I had a dollar for every time she called and said that, it would pay my gas bill for a year.

  “What happened now?” I turn onto the street where I live, feeling a lot more homesick after that meeting than I have the last several times she’s called with an emergency.

  “That’s the problem. We don’t know. Last night, someone got into Terra Belle’s Pickle Patch and absolutely wrecked her cukes. They left tire marks everywhere, and half her harvest is ruined.”

  “Have you called the sheriff?” The very thought of Aiden Stone stepping onto a crime scene, his fatigue green uniform pants hugging his ass, sends a shiver down my spine.

  “I can only assume you’re so focused on driving you've forgotten who you’re talking to.” My mother’s tone switches from cloak-and-dagger to sarcasm in an instant. “It’s the only reason you would ever suggest I speak to Aiden Stone.”

  I’d speak to him…

  Aiden Stone is the hottest man alive—People magazine just hasn’t found him yet. He’s six-foot-two inches of pure muscle, with a square jaw and a take-no-prisoners gaze. Add to all of that, he’s a former Marine, with dreamy blue eyes and brown hair that’s somehow silky and wavy at the same time.

  The last time I saw him, my last night in Eureka, he actually walked outside where I was standing and talked to me. I know. Until that moment, I’m pretty sure he’d never even looked at me. Not only am I seven years younger than him, he’s also a member of the Stone family… which means he’s not a fan of the Baileys. His straight-laced forebears have battled my hippie family for years.

  Still, he asked me about my plans. I told him I wanted to start a new life, find my own path, get out of the shadow of my family. He said he understood, but I’m not sure he does. He’s in Eureka carrying on his family’s legacy of law enforcement.

  The one time he softened was talking about his son Owen. My insides swooned as his blue eyes warmed telling me how Owen loves zebras and learning about animals. I think I stepped closer, wishing I could trace my finger along the cleft in his chin and bury my nose in the warm cedar scent of his clothes. Then he looked down at me, and the heat in his gaze stole my breath. I nearly fainted.

  “Aiden Stone is not a believer.”

  “Maybe not, but it’s his job to investigate crimes.”

  “Which is why we need you to come home. You’ve spent enough time in Greenville, and we need you here.”

  “Who’s we?”

  “Your grandmother and me. We need you here because you’re part psychic.”

  Shaking my head, I exhale softly. “I’m not psychic, Mom.”

  “Still, you have fifty percent of my genes. Your intuition is very keen, and the spiritual vibration in Eureka is disturbed. I hate to say this out loud…” Her voice lowers to just above a whisper. “It reminds me of the last time I saw your father alive.”

  My throat knots, and as much as I push back on my mother’s psychic abilities, she does have a knack for knowing things. She also has never believed my father’s death was an accident.

  I pull into the parking lot of my apartment building and look up at the small space I’ve tried to make my home for the last six months. It feels about as foreign as when I arrived.

  Striking out on my own has not turned out the way I thought it would when I left my tiny hometown on the Carolina coast between Hilton Head and Kiawah Island. I haven’t made a big splash in the big city, but I have learned a lot.

  “I’ll talk to my boss at the station and see if I can take a leave of absence.”

  “Thank you, Britt.” Her voice is a heavy exhale of relief. “I knew you wouldn’t let us down. The only thing you regret when you die is the time you don’t spend with family and friends.”

  “Good lord, Ma, nobody’s dying.”

  “Not yet, at least.”

  I roll my eyes at her dramatics. “Well, I’m coming, but things are going to be different this time. For starters, I’m getting my own place—”

  “What?” she cries. “Why would you waste money like that when your room at home is waiting just the way you left it?”

  “And I’m not helping with your tarot readings when you double-book yourself. Those days are over.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of asking you to help me.” Her tone is wounded, but don’t be fooled. She would so ask me. “I have someone helping me with the readings now, so you don’t have to worry.”

  “Who’s helping you?” Slamming the door of my truck, I trot up the stairs to my apartment.

  Edward greets me at the door by sticking his cold, wet nose into the palm of my hand. I drop to my knees, giving his neck and ears a good, firm scrubbing. He licks my face in response.

  “Cassidy started working with me shortly after you left. She has a real gift for spiritual things.”

  “Cass is helping you predict the future?” It’s official. My bestie has done everything in Eureka.

  “I’ve told you a hundred times, I don’t predict the future.”

  “Oh, I know you don’t, but I’m not sure your paying customers do.”

  “I give them counsel. I’m a guide, and Cassidy is actually quite good. She’s very sensitive and empathetic.”

  “Sounds like I need to get home, stat. Next you’ll tell me Jinx is running for mayor.”

  “You shouldn’t call Piper that. Names are powerful. They connect us to our spiritual identity, and I’m sure she doesn’t want to connect with bad omens.”

  “Piper named herself Jinx. I think it’s her way of reclaiming her power.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “You don’t have to like it.”

  She makes a harrumphing noise, and I pull my oversized suitcase out of my closet. I don’t have much to pack, as I haven’t really been here long enough to accumulate a lot of extra baggage.

  “How soon do you think you’ll be home?”

  Glancing at the clock, I’ve got plenty of time to go to the station and speak to my supervisor. “If there’s no problem, I could probably be home this weekend.”

  “That’s wonderful! I’ll tell your grandmother. You can stay here until you find your own place.”

  I have a better idea. “Is the loft above the Star Parlor still vacant?”

  A bright little one-bedroom living space is located above my mother’s tarot-reading studio. She used to rent it out after my dad died to make some extra money, but not enough people move to Eureka to maintain a short-term rental.

  “It is, but nobody’s lived there for a while. It needs to be cleaned and aired out and checked for pests.”

  “You do that today, and I’ll let you know when I’m on the road.”

  “Okay,” she pouts, but I’m not swayed.

  If I’m going back to Eureka, things are going to be different. I have a life and a career, and as much as I love my family, I’m not interested in living their free-spirited, unreliable life.

  I live in the real world. I’m not making my decisions based on magic anymore.

  CHAPTER 3

  AIDEN

  Who watches over you? The sign is hand-lettered neatly in canary-blue on a narrow strip of white wood. It’s nailed to the utility pole outside the courthouse, and I cross my arms, silently reading and re-reading the message.

  “Is it a protest sign?” Doug stands beside me scratching the gray hairs on the back of his neck. “Are they implying we’re not watching the town?”