Page 41 of Real Fake Hauntings

Cleanse.

Aware that this was going to be a long, strenuous day, I only allowed a tiny bit of power to resonate with the incantation. I would do a better, more focused cleansing potion and spell later, but I owed it to my clients to at least get rid of some of the bad mojo now.

Happy with the fruit of my labors, I ate a Halloween muffin, then went to get Bee-Bee.

I found Ian, Shane, and Alex at the detached garage-slash-workshop. They had laid Crane on a workbench over a blue tarp. How many dead people had their tarps seen? Probably not the time to ask.

“Hi, boss,” Alex said, way too cheerfully for the circumstances. “Caught yourself a big one, eh?”

I laughed awkwardly.

“Dude,” Shane said, slapping his arm.

Alex grinned and rubbed his hands in anticipation, and I wondered if they were going to slap me with a body disposal bill.

I really needed to fill out more Council grant applications.

“Where’s Key?” I asked.

“Hasn’t arrived yet,” Shane said.

“Okay, good.” I might have to accept the strays’ help, but at least I wouldn’t have to get Key involved.

“Good?” Ian asked.

“I don’t want to involve her in this.” I pointed at Crane’s sprawled body.

Ian tilted his head. “What happened to her bounty hunter training?”

“In stages! Can’t just jump to murder.”

Shane shook his head. “Key isn’t going to like it.”

“Plus, we might need her help to bury the body,” Alex added.

“If we need her help, then we’ll tell her. But for now, the fewer people know about it, the better.” I glared at each of them, daring them to contradict me.

Shane and Alex lifted their hands in surrender, but judging from their expressions, they had serious doubts about my decision.

Guilt nagged at me, but until we figured out why my shop had been targeted and who had offed Crane, there was no point in putting more people in danger.

But I had to admit that wasn’t the only reason. There was something so wholesome about Key’s eagerness to help that it made me recoil at the idea of embroiling her in a murder. Rationally, I knew this wouldn’t be the messiest situation she had encountered in her young life, and that she wouldn’t appreciate me treating her like a child, but still...

“You think he was murdered?” Alex asked, studying Crane’s wristwatch closely.

“No stealing from the dead,” I warned him sternly. “Too much bad karma.” His question was a good one, though. “You think he could’ve died from natural causes?” The idea cheered me up. Maybe I was wrong about everything, and there wasn’t a murderer to catch.

“Doubtful,” Shane said. “What are the chances he dies from natural causes while he’s breaking into your shop?”

“Could’ve died elsewhere and was moved to the shop,” Alex said.

Which would mean at least two people were involved, considering the weight of Crane. I wasn’t sure what was worse—more than one person trying to set me up, or Crane being murdered in my shop.

“Are there any marks?” I asked. “I think he might’ve been exsanguinated.”

Shane rolled up Crane’s sleeve to check his arm.

“Gloves! Gloves!” I exclaimed in horror. Had he never watched a police procedural?

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