Page 4 of Big Witch Energy

Sally opened her mouth to protest, and Riley added quickly, “I know you don’t mean to, but by their very nature, ghosts have a way of unsettling the living, just by being in the same room.”

“Well, I don’t know about any of this ghost business, but I’m not about to let go of my glassware just yet,” Sally said. “I can’t believe the nerve of my nephew’s rotten wife. Some of these belonged to my mother; she brought them all the way up from Virginia when she followed my father here. And I added to her collection along the way. She used these all my life, at every special occasion, just to let us know how important our birthdays were, our graduations, our baby showers. The collection was supposed to go to family. I told Harmon that, so many times. And he just let that Lindsay just throw them away like they were nothing. I have to stay close to them, to make sure whoever ends up with them appreciates them.”

Ghost problems were generally a lot like living people problems—resentments, old hurts, and regrets that festered and kept people from moving on to whatever spiritual resting place they were destined for after death. For the past year, the three of them had been slowly working through the more benign cases contained in the house, helping the ghosts move along to the next plane of existence, giving them peace. Or occasionally, like tonight, they would hear about a haunting on the island that had the potential to hurt people and seek it out.

Working with the dead was a lot less work when the dead person cooperated, which was a sentence Caroline never thought would enter her mind.

Riley mused. “So, if you’re not willing to part with them, would you be willing to, say, change venues, to Shaddow House? You could stay there, knowing that your cake stands are being stored with some of the most carefully guarded antiques on the planet.”

Caroline pursed her lips. She supposed that was true. Antiques that were attached to potentially harmful spirits tended to be closely supervised.

“We could take you there tonight,” Riley offered.

“Wait, what?” Caroline turned to Riley. “We don’t have to steal the cake stands. Why not just come back and buy them tomorrow?”

“We can’t leave the collection here,” Riley said. “Sally could use her new skills to toss a heavy glass object at somebody and hit them in the head! No offense, Sally, but you don’t seem to have a close grip on your temper.”

Sally shrugged. “No offense taken, I suppose. I did throw all that mess at you.”

“Or worse, someone else could buy it before we get back,” Riley added. “We need to take it back to Shaddow House for safekeeping until Sally feels ready to move on.”

“Are you saying I’ll get to finally see the inside of Shaddow House?” Sally asked.

Like most people on Starfall, Sally had grown up on the island and never been allowed inside the mysterious semi-Victorian mansion with its ever-evolving mass of additions and façades. The house was a mystery most Starfall Point residents never solved, and every time Caroline got to see the inside, she felt the privilege of it.

“Well, that’s not a bad deal,” Sally said, sticking out her hand for a shake. Riley reached out to take it and barely blinked at the pins-and-needles discomfort of touching a spirit.

“But I can’t steal from another antique shop!” Alice protested.

“It’s not like there’s antique shop owners’ code,” Riley told her. “And we’re lucky that no one has heard the ruckus or seen the lights. We need to move along.”

“There’s a Michigan legal code,” Caroline reminded her. “And it frowns upon theft. Generally speaking.”

“All right, what is with all the legal talk? Are you doing that thing where you just sit back and make ‘funny’ comments without helping, like you’re Jane Goodall studying a social grouping of idiots?” Riley asked.

“Little bit.” Caroline jerked her shoulders. “I just like to be the voice of reason that reminds you that there are real-world consequences to the otherworldly things we do.”

“Well, that’s reasonable, I suppose,” Riley conceded.

“Ladies, we’ve talked about how these conversations are not helpful in high-stress ghost situations,” Alice reminded them.

Caroline considered that. “Yes, but we’ve also talked about the fact that I find the faces Riley makes when I make unhelpful jokes in those moments to be very funny.”

Alice snorted, none too delicately. This was what Caroline treasured about her “ghost moments” with her coven. They were doing something very serious, and even dangerous, but they could still find ways to tease each other, to laugh.

“Caroline is right, stealing antiques is illegal,” Riley conceded. “But we’re leaving an antique behind that’s worth twice what the cake stands are worth!!”

Riley held up a bag that contained a porcelain music box that had once been haunted by a ghost named Helena. It played Three Blind Mice, but because the little metal comb that created the notes was warped, that meant a too-slow, discordant rendition of the nursery rhyme echoing through Shaddow House. Riley maintained a very strict “creepy music boxes that play independently go into the trash compactor” policy. But because Helena was so sweet, Riley kept Helena’s object until she moved on to the next plane.

“Did you seriously bring a haunted music box to a burglary?” Caroline asked.

“A previously haunted music box, and Alice was able to repair it in her shop, so it’s not even creepy anymore,” Riley said. “I thought we might need an unhaunted object to exchange for a haunted one—and I was right! And yes, I know how insane that sounded.”

“But switching out a music box for glassware is going to throw his whole inventory system off!” Alice insisted.

“You mean that pile of notebooks that date back to…1982?” Riley asked, nodding at the haphazardly piled steno books leaning against Willard’s massive metal cash register.

“I didn’t say it was a perfect system,” Alice said primly.

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