Page 45 of Real Fake Hauntings

I rubbed my forehead. “Seems so.”

“That’s a lot of trouble to go through for it to be random.”

Yes. Yes, it was. “They went through all that trouble, but then didn’t contact anyone to actually frame me with a dead person in my shop?”

“That does give weight to your theory that Crane’s death might’ve been an unintended mistake.”

“I still don’t understand why he was there, though. It doesn’t seem his style at all.”

“I agree. Possibility one: Crane and someone else broke into your shop for some unknown reason, then something happened, Crane ended up dead, and the other person or persons ran away.”

“Possibility two.” I began to pace in front of him. “Someone lured Crane into the shop with the intention of killing him and framing me, but we took the body before they had a chance to send someone into the shop. Or maybe they did an anonymous call that wasn’t taken seriously.” Never underestimate the possibility of a bad guy’s plans going haywire because something so simple as someone being bad at their job.

Speaking from experience.

“Possibility two and a half,” Ian continued. “Crane was killed elsewhere, and someone thought to confuse the police by leaving his corpse in your shop.”

“Why not bury him somewhere else?”

“Not that many places to dispose of a body around here. The shifters would’ve known if someone entered the forest, and digging takes effort and time.”

“The fact that they had a key and the alarm code makes leaving him in my shop premeditation, though.”

“Maybe the two things are unrelated. They could’ve planned to enter your shop for another reason another day, but once Crane was dead, they decided it made for a handy spot to leave the body.

“Risky, though. What if someone had seen? They must’ve used a vehicle, and that would’ve lifted the blame off me.”

“If their plan was to frame you and not simply to complicate the investigation. Now we’re too busy figuring how you enter this equation to ask the important question.”

“Why Crane?”

“Yes.” He held my gaze with his serious one. “Are you sure you don’t want to involve the police?”

“Yes. This has something to do with the paranormal community. And if it has something to do with the pentagrams, too… What if whoever killed Crane means to use his blood to draw new ones, or…”

“Or?”

Worry constricted my lungs. “Or they’re gearing up for a big finale.” I studied my feet for a few long moments, putting our brainstorming ideas into order. “It has to be a witch.”

“Or someone pretending to be a witch.”

“No.” This, I felt in my bones. “If they were pretending, they’d have gone for melodrama. Splatters of blood everywhere, herbs, and the whole setup. This is too clean. Too precise. Someone has a plan.” And I meant to stop them. Suddenly, I was glad I hadn’t involved the police. Being a suspect would’ve stopped me from investigating in any meaningful way, and as the only witch around, I had knowledge of how witches operated Ian and the rest didn’t.

Ian nodded curtly in agreement, then looked over my shoulder toward the driveway and scowled.

I turned to see Key coming up to us, accompanied by Brimstone and Destruction.

Oh, the timing.

Key grinned at me. From the house, the sound of barking alerted us that Fluffy and Rufus had detected the intruder.

Brimstone jumped and sent the house a nervous glance before focusing on Ian. The two men studied each other.

It was funny seeing them side by side—Ian with his harsh black attire and attitude, Brimstone in his suave vampire cloud of darkness.

“Hello,” Brimstone said. “I’m Jeremy. Key’s uncle.”

Thunder reverberated in the distance.

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