Page 109 of Real Fake Hauntings

“I’m more protected from magic in wolf form.”

“Sure,” Hutton said in a voice that telegraphed that even he could tell that was one weak explanation. “Now, what do we do with the witch?”

Which witch? And good question.

“Call Brooks,” Ian said as we made our way back to Hannah. The spotlight was down again, but we dragged her farther in to cover our bases. She was sobbing quietly and hiccuping every once in a while. “Show her Crane’s body and pin her as his murderer.”

“She is his murderer,” I pointed out. “But what if Hannah tells her about the shop?”

Hutton huffed a laugh. “She won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Snitches get stitches.”

“She can make a deal to get free with the information about the shop, then disappear.”

“No, she won’t,” Bagley said.

Hutton jumped and whirled toward the voice. “What the hell?”

Sighing, I went over to where Hannah had kicked Bagley. “Hannah put Bagley?—”

“That’s Ms. Bagley to you.”

“She put the old hag in some object before I caught her. Help me find it.”

We searched the small area until Hutton found something.

“Here,” he said, pointing at the grass and smart enough not to want to taint himself by touching whichever accursed object Bagley now haunted.

“How are you, my boy?” Bagley crooned. “Pack treating you well? How’s your dear mother?”

“Give it up, Ms. Bagley,” I said, picking up a heavy locket, chain included. “He doesn’t need your potion anymore.”

Bagley snorted. “Oh, I’m sure he will at some point.”

Hutton scowled and gave me an accusatory look. Luckily, he was smart enough not to engage in front of Bagley, although I had a good feeling he’d be paying me a visit soon.

I brought the locket to a spot under better light and examined it carefully. Weeks of hauling her haunted objects out of the shop had given me some resilience to handling this one. My skin no longer crawled at the thought of touching Bagley’s evil presence.

The locket was a thing of beauty, with elegant etchings on both sides glinting under the dim light, and the heavy weight of it made me think it was an antique. Way too precious to hold such a horrid ghost.

“How do you know Hannah won’t tattle about the shop?” I asked.

“Ah, me and Darla, or Hannah as you know her, we go way back, don’t we, dear?” Bagley asked aloud. There was a muffled whine from Hannah’s direction. “I know some things that if made public would make some people very angry with her. The kind of people who would love to get some retribution and who have the means to get to anyone they want.”

At least it was coercion through blackmail and not dark magic, I consoled myself.

I looked at Ian. “Okay, let’s call Officer Brooks.” Now that Bagley was back in my hands, she’d make sure nothing happened to the shop until she got another evil loser to do her bidding.

Ian got on the phone. After a few short, to-the-point sentences, he pocketed it again. “She’s on the way.”

I brought my attention back to Bagley. “This really is too beautiful for you.”

“Only the best for the best.” She cackled, and I resisted the urge to throw her against a tree.

The thing was, if I destroyed this locket, where would Bagley go? Maybe she’d disappear into the ether, maybe she’d snap to a gravestone or an object from someone in the tour group. There was no way of knowing. It was obvious Bagley needed to stay confined to this locket for the rest of time, so we’d always know where she was.

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