Page 12 of Real Fake Hauntings

Now that we were alone, Key took her own pictures of the pentagram. “Where next?”

“The pie guy.”

The pie guy’s shop was small and cozy, painted in light oranges and beiges, with barely enough space for a glass counter and two tiny round tables with matching chairs, which meant Key had to wait outside with the dogs. A paper taped to the glass door announced they delivered, of which I heartily approved. I had only just started my own potion delivery business myself, but the results were already showing.

Jonas was a happy, rotund man with a curling French mustache and apple cheeks. Talk about committing to the bit! Very impressive. He shuddered when I introduced myself as Janet’s friend and asked about the pentagram.

“So creepy, if you don’t mind me saying. All that red?” He shuddered again. “We have a bit of a problem with graffiti on that wall, but this felt malicious, if you know what I mean.”

“I do.” I agreed, nodding vigorously. “How did you discover it?”

“I was out taking in some fresh air after I’d put some tartes in the oven when I noticed the…the penta-thing.”

“Pentagram,” I supplied helpfully.

“Yes, that thing. I knew Janet wouldn’t like it, so I went immediately to tell her.”

“What time was this?”

“About eight?”

“And you didn’t see anyone running away?”

“There were some people walking around but nobody running.”

“Anyone suspicious around lately that gave you a bad vibe?”

He thought about this for a few moments. “Non. Most of my clients are regulars, but I get a lot of tourist traffic too. They can’t wait to taste Jonas’s famous tartes!”

“Nobody stood out in the last couple of days?”

“Non.”

“What about the people who leave the graffiti? Have they ever been caught?”

“Kids. The police sometimes catch them and let them off with a warning.”

I’d have to ask around if any paranormal teens had gotten in trouble over tagging shops. Maybe some of the young shifters?

“One more thing,” I said and pointed at the display. “Could I have two apple pie slices?”

Two minutes later, Key and I sat at a small table outside the shop. It was cold, but the pie was still warm and absolutely delicious. We needed the shot of sugar to replenish our energy, as I explained to Key.

“You think Crane is involved?” she asked.

“I think he might’ve seen something.” I forked off a big bite of pie and shoved it into my mouth. By my side, Fluffy whined. “I’m sorry, Fluffy,” I told her after swallowing. “Google says apple pie will make you sick.”

Key giggled.

“I can’t see Crane getting his hands dirty,” I continued. “But he could have hired someone. I just don’t see why he’d bother.”

“That’s true,” Key said. “What about Janet herself?”

“Not likely.” But I owed it to my everyone is a suspect motto to put her on the list, so I opened the to-do list application on my phone and added her name at the bottom.

“Do you talk to the shifter teens any?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Not really. There’s a couple who come talk to Shane and Alex sometimes, but that’s about it.”

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