Page 9 of Real Fake Hauntings

“That’s stupid. Why would we paint a pentagram on our wall? Do you know how hard cleaning that old brick is?”

I looked at the chipped, uneven surface of the brown bricks. She had a point there. Still, people had gone through bigger inconveniences for the sake of making themselves appear innocent.

“Maybe you wanted some extra notoriety?”

“Then we’d have painted it on the front.” Duh.

I would not be defeated by common sense, I told myself. Pentagram-drawing criminals were not common and hopefully had not much sense.

Straightening, I fixed her with my best no, bringing your own thermos doesn’t qualify you for a discount barista smile. “It’s important to follow procedure. It would help a lot to know where you were last night, so if your enemies accuse you of painting the pentagram, I can show them you didn’t.”

Grumbling something very un-nice, Lydia finished typing on her phone, then shot me a glare. “Can I go now? I need to open the shop.”

With a gracious wave of my hand, I set her free.

She stomped back inside and slammed the back door closed.

“What do you think?” I asked Key.

Key approached the pentagram, then obviously remembered it was drawn with blood and scrunched her nose with distaste. “Someone taking a Halloween prank too far?”

“Why use human blood for that, though?”

“Someone meaning to scare paranormals? Some kind of warning?”

The thought made a shiver run down my spine. “Beware of the dark witch coming your way?”

“Doesn’t have to be dark magic. Could be for show.”

I studied the pentagram again, tapping my chin in concentration. “Someone used a spell here. That means a witch or a potion. A potion could explain the human blood on the pentagram.”

“But?” Key prodded, looking at me like I was wisdom witchified.

“Most dark magic potions are meant to be used on people, not objects. And I don’t smell any kind of herbs. Nothing strange seems to have diluted the animal blood, either. I think it’s more likely that someone attempted a spell here. Or,” I added with sudden inspiration, “that’s what they want us to think.”

“Put some human blood; do some inane magic as a red herring?”

“I see you’ve caught up on your romantic suspense reading,” I said with approval.

She flushed a pretty pink, reminding me she was barely twenty. “Shane helped me get a library card. Thanks for the recommendations.”

I grinned. “Anytime.” My attention returned to the pentagram. “If it’s only Bosko our suspect has a beef with, why do the other four sites?”

“Another red herring?”

Unfortunately, it’d be hard to tell if it was the other pentagrams that were a red herring, or if Bosko’s pentagram was a distraction from one of the other places. Or if they all were part of a bigger plan. Or if the culprit was a dumb kid playing at being a dark witch.

“Options, options,” I murmured. With a shake of my head, I bent to give Rufus some scritches. “Can you smell anything funny, Rufus? Can you take us to the bad guy?” I made exaggerated sniffing noses. “Track, Rufus!”

Rufus stared back like I’d lost my mind.

I considered calling Ian to come tell his dog to sniff around, but I wasn’t sure he knew where his dogs were and that might put Key in the hot seat.

“How come you brought the dogs?” I asked.

Her gaze shifted guiltily. “I needed an excuse to come.”

Key was excellent at coming up with believable excuses. A superpower I hoped she’d eventually use for good rather than evil.

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