Page 42 of Real Fake Hauntings

Shane gave me an odd look. “Right.”

All three of them put on their work gloves and approached Crane like medical examiners ready to open him apart. Luckily, none of them picked up a saw.

“Looks like a mark here,” Shane said, handling Crane’s arm. It was stiff and pale, with only the barest of bruises marring the bottom skin. According to my TV show sources, lividity should’ve left bigger bruises. Someone had definitely taken his blood.

I peeked closer at the spot Shane had indicated. A small bloody spot marred Crane’s inner elbow. “An injection mark? Drugs?” But if he’d done drugs on himself, he would’ve stopped the bleeding, wouldn’t he? Unless someone wanted to make it appear like some sort of overdose. “Could be they took his blood through here.”

Shane and Alex grimaced.

“Really?” Alex asked.

I nodded. “Stabbings are messy, lots of blood gone to waste.” Just because Bagley and Vicky had liked to go at it old style in the bathtub didn’t mean all dark witches shared their technique.

“Could he have died from bleeding out like that?” Shane asked.

“I’m not sure. Maybe? I think it would’ve taken a long time, though.” I began sweating again. How long had the murderer been in my shop?

“So, they could’ve bled him out elsewhere, then moved him to the Tea Cauldron,” Shane said.

“But why leave him at the shop?” I pondered aloud. As Ian had said, if the point was to get me into trouble, why not call the police right away? “Any other signs of violence?”

They searched but found no obvious bullet holes or bloody gushes, and none of us were willing to undress Crane to search any deeper.

“Could’ve been poisoned,” I said.

“Shot, then redressed,” Alex suggested.

“Intentional heart attack,” Shane added.

“We need to find out who did it,” I agreed.

We all looked at Ian.

Amusement curved his mouth. “I’m not the police.”

“In the paranormal world you might as well be,” I said.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Not until I’m hired.”

I patted my pockets and found nothing but my phone, so I grabbed a small screwdriver from the wall and handed it to Ian. He stared at it like it was a new tool of unfathomable power.

“A token to pay for your services,” I told him.

“It’s my tool.”

“Consider it on loan.”

Alex barked a laugh.

Ian rolled his eyes and spun the screwdriver in his hand. “Bounty hunters do the apprehending, not the investigating.”

“I’m sure together we can waddle through the problem.” I thought back on all I had learned from my sister’s suspense novels—those authors did some heavy research—and came up with an idea. “MMO. Means, motive, and opportunity.” We all switched our attention back to the body. “Who would want to kill Crane?”

Shane snorted. “Who wouldn’t?”

Crane did have a long history of pissing off everyone in Olmeda. I turned to Ian. “Maybe a customer from his broker business was mad at him?” If they had removed his blood to use for dark magic purposes, his killer being involved in the illegal side of the paranormal community made sense. It could’ve been someone who wanted to use the blood or wanted to sell it.

“Could be,” Ian said.

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