Page 86 of Real Fake Hauntings

That cheered me right up. “That’s a great idea. Don’t sing karaoke without me,” I warned mockingly. “You promised.”

He put a hand on his heart. “Wouldn’t dare.”

By the time he’d given me a way-too-fast and nowhere near deep enough goodbye kiss and left through the back door, the shop had tripled in customers. I brought down Fluffy’s favorite blanket and parked her by the end of the counter, code violations be damned.

She was an instant hit among the customers and dutifully posed for all their selfie needs.

“Good job, Fluffy,” I whispered after yet another satisfied customer had left with a Fluffy-bee photo, a Halloween muffin, and the promise to leave a glowing review.

“Jesus,” Dru said from her position at the laptop. “You love that dog more than your grandmother.”

“Never.” Maybe. No, nooo. Grandma would always be number one. Although there was more than enough space in my heart for Grandma, Fluffy, and my bestie Dru. I told her as much, and she told me to get lost.

Not very angelic of her, but there you have it.

With Key busy investigating with Shane and Alex and unable to come help in the shop, I was waiting for a lull in the constant streams of patrons to go on my evil coven house visit when Hutton entered the shop. He scanned the crowd as if he expected each customer to be an evil witch in disguise, and one of our habitual demons surreptitiously lifted her phone to take a photo of him, her eyes all but turning into hearts.

Pack alphas had a reputation in the paranormal world. With his pretty-boy looks and tough attitude, Hutton was seen as somewhat of a prize. Which was kind of strange since Ian more than surpassed his little brother in just about every way that counted.

Hutton gestured toward the bead curtain with a sharp tilt of his head.

I ignored it and turned to prepare a mug of tea for a man sitting at the counter.

“Avery,” he whispered harshly. “A word?”

“Later,” I said, sneaking an arm around Dru to grab a muffin. “Busy now.”

“It’s about the thing.”

The thing? Hah. I’d seen him sniffing the air as he entered—he was here to see if I still had a dead body stuffed somewhere in the shop.

“I have a few leads about the graffiti,” I told him. “I’ll text you if anything pans out.”

His eyes narrowed. “You still don’t know who did it?”

I encompassed the crowd filling the shop with my open hands. “A little busy earning my living?”

“And my overtime,” Dru muttered.

I beamed at Hutton. “And her overtime.”

“This is more important,” he insisted. “You’re supposed to?—”

My phone dinged, and I lifted a hand, mouthing, Sorry, gotta get this.

Two red spots appeared on his cheeks and he looked about to explode. With another beaming smile, I turned to check my screen.

Anonymous text.

Excellent.

I have a location for the mage.

Now we were talking.

Where? I sent back.

A link popped into my screen. Demonstrating to the universe that I learned from my mistakes, I made sure my VPN was on before clicking on it.

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