Page 24 of My Blind Date is a Ghost

“What?” I prod.

“Well, I’m a bit ashamed to admit it. You know the history of the town? The history of witch killings in New England.”

I nod. “Well, everyone knows about Salem.”

“In the past, in New England as well as the rest of the world, people who were considered ‘odd’ were often singled out as witches or werewolves. These oddities were often just medical conditions they couldn’t control. People with epilepsy were thought to be possessed, or children with autism were thought to be fairies. Same with witches and werewolves and vampires. People died because they didn’t understand so many mental and physical disabilities.”

“Right,” I say.

“Well, I have often wondered if Jeremiah was one of those unfortunate souls who also happened to be a werewolf.”

“You think Jeremiah was targeted as a scapegoat because of his mental condition?” I ask.

Beverly nods.

“Well, I don’t know about that. We can’t really diagnose someone who died over two hundred years ago. However, I think you might be right that he was a scapegoat. According to the coroner and the trial records, I can’t find any actual evidence that he killed her. He was present, yes. But she wasn’t really injured in any physical way. She wasn’t…disemboweled. She didn’t have her throat slashed. She didn’t have any signs that she was attacked by a werewolf.”

“How did she die, then?”

“The coroner said she died of ‘shock’,” I say with a chuckled.

“Poppycock,” Beverly says. “You know she was a correspondent during the Revolutionary War.”

“I know,” I said. “And poppycock is putting it lightly. There’s no way she just up and died because a man attacked her. She would have fought back.”

“So,” Beverly says, rubbing her chin, “we don’t know the truth of how she died.”

“And she doesn’t want to know,” I say. “She says she’s at peace with it, which is fair. It was over two hundred years ago.”

“Fine,” Beverly says. “We don’t know how or why she died, and maybe it’s not relevant. What we need to know if how and why she’s alive. Think about it. If someone had the power to bring her back, then they will have the power to kill her again. Or worse.”

“I agree,” I say.

“So, what do you need to do next?”

I sigh. “Well, I go back to the scene of the crime. I need to go back to where I found her, the woods near the graveyard.”

“Do you need me to go with you?”

“I don’t think so. I’ll come back and let you know what I found, if anything.”

“Very well. Good luck.”

CHAPTER 11

BECKETT

As I drive out of town toward the woods where I first met—or nearly ran over, I should say—Cora, I can’t stop thinking about her. And not just because I’m looking into her death and reanimation. It’s hard to believe that in a town of witches, werewolves, vampires, and even zombies, she’s the most interesting person I’ve met. I don’t believe she was killed by Jeremiah Holland. If I was able to solve her murder, it would be the oldest cold case I’ve ever solved. Indeed, it might be the oldest cold case anyone has ever solved. I’m aware of some cases in the 1850s and 60s that have been solved in recent years. But a case from two hundred years ago? No, that would be impossible.

But in Mystic Cove, anything is possible.

I can’t help but lean forward over the steering wheel and look up at the sky. It’s daytime now, mid-afternoon. When I saw the spaceship and aliens before, it was the middle of the night. Still, I know they are out there—somewhere. They could be watching over us even now. In fact, I’m sure they are. Why they are here or what they want, I have no idea. I feel a shiver down my back and sit back in my seat.

Anyway, Cora’s case isn’t technically cold anyway. Someone was convicted and executed for her murder. If it does turn out that someone else was responsible, it would be impossible to prosecute them.

Well, that’s not technically true, I suppose. If she was killed by a vampire, that person could still be alive, so the supernatural court would have to take over and see that the person was punished.

That’s one thing I don’t like about Mystic Cove. Sometimes the supernatural rules supersede human laws, human justice. Just a couple of months ago, the Mystic Cove wolfpack took it upon themselves to kill some werewolves who were infringing on their territory. I thought that Adrian Cooper, the current pack Alpha, should have been held responsible. But the sheriff told me to back off and mind my own business. The vampires, too, will take matters into their own hands when someone crosses a line. I don’t like it, but I don’t really have a choice. If I want to be part of the community, I have to follow their rules to keep them secret and safe.

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