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  “They’re adorable. Looks like you got started right out of the gate.”

  He tucked the photo back in his wallet with great care. “Stacy and I met at freshman orientation and we married the day after graduation. They were the longest four years of my life. How about you?” he asked, glancing down at my hands. “Hasn’t anyone swept you off your feet yet?”

  “There’s someone working hard on it. You’ll meet him tomorrow night. Will I get to meet the special woman who’s made you so happy?”

  “She’ll be there, and I know you’ll love her. She is special.”

  A guy whose name eluded me clapped Adam on the back. “Look at you,” he said with a short bark of a laugh, “gaining weight and losing hair ahead of schedule.”

  Adam turned to him with a wide grin. “Says the guy who had to attend summer school so he wouldn’t get left back.”

  “Hey man, I was all about priorities—studying women instead of chemistry and math.”

  I left them to their put-downs. I’ve never understood the way men insult and ridicule each other. If we women did that with our friends, we’d be friendless in no time. I went looking for a place to discard my glass. Between the air conditioning that was cranked up to frigid and the cold drink, my fingers were getting numb. A moment later, a busboy came by carrying a tray of discarded drinks as if I’d cast a spell to make him appear. Could I have subconsciously summoned him? I’d have to look into it. According to Morgana, any skills I left untried by the age of thirty would lie dormant for the rest of my life. I chafed at having a deadline, but it had made me more vigilant.

  I spotted a knot of women across the room—the three other founding members of the Green Love Circle we’d started in our junior year. The club arranged for people in the environmental field to address the student body several times a year. It also raised money and awareness to shut down puppy mills and promote no-kill animal shelters. I was headed in their direction when Ashley Rennet stepped into my path.

  My heart clenched. She and Scott had been voted most likely to wed. I hadn’t seen her since his funeral. According to the grapevine, she’d gone off to college in New Hampshire as planned, but dropped out after the first semester. I felt bad about not reaching out to her back then to see how she was doing, but I’d lost Scott too, and I didn’t know how to comfort either one of us.

  In my mind, I had imagined Ashley losing weight, her face wan, dark circles beneath her eyes. I was relieved to see I was wrong. She looked exactly as I remembered her. However heartbroken she might have been, she’d made it back to herself. That was before I noticed Scott’s class ring on its silver chain around her neck the way she’d worn it all senior year—engaged to be engaged. It was possible she’d just put it on for the reunion, but it was more likely she’d never taken it off.

  She had to know it would deter men from asking her out. And if a man did approach her, when he asked about the ring, her explanation would surely have sent him running. The ring was like a silver cross worn to keep vampires away. Only in Ashley’s case, she wanted to keep life from moving on.

  Earlier in the day, I’d come up with a few neutral things I could say that wouldn’t upset her. But when I opened my mouth, they all gushed out at once. “It’s so good to see you. You look wonderful. How are you? Where do you call home these days?”

  Sidestepping my embarrassing attempt at conversation, she answered the last question. “I’m still in New Hampshire. It’s quiet—folks there mind their own business.” She spoke softly, slowly, as if the whole cadence of her being had been transformed by the pace of her life there. “Turned out college wasn’t for me. I went to baking school instead and found my niche. Now I’m part owner of a thriving bake shop.” There was satisfaction in her tone. Who’s to say that didn’t qualify as happiness? “Are you still here in New Camel?” she asked.

  I nodded. “Still working in Abracadabra.” I decided not to mention that Morgana and Bronwen had died. I didn’t want our conversation to be about death.

  “I used to love browsing in your shop,” she said wistfully. “All the great natural cures and the best makeup. Everything worked like magic. I’ve never found products anywhere else that measured up. Plus they cost a fortune. I have to make time to stop into Abracadabra before I head home.”

  “I hope you do. I’ll show you all the new products.” We smiled at each other. I tried to think of something else to say, but came up empty. Our smiles were wilting and the silence was growing awkward. Ashley finally rescued us both.

  “So tell me, what do you do when you’re not running the shop?”

  I could tell her about Travis, but that might bring her down. Besides, she’d meet him on Saturday night. What else....“In my spare time, I’ve been hunting down killers.” And just like that I shoved my foot in my mouth and halfway down my throat—what my grandmother used to call hoof in mouth disease. When I made a social blunder, I didn’t do it by half measure.

  I heard Ashley’s breath catch in her throat. “Seriously? Are you good at it?”

  “I’ve done okay, but I’ve only tackled a few cases.” I knew what was coming next. I’d set myself up for it. Was my brain back home snoozing with Sashkatu?

  “Have you looked any further into Scott’s death?” Like me, she had believed there was more to his passing than the official version.

  “I haven’t,” I admitted. “I doubt I could find anything after all this time. And Duggan, he’s the chief of detectives, he would never give me access to the old files. We’re not exactly on good terms. He’d like nothing better than an opportunity to lock me up and throw away the key.”

  “Would you try—as a favor to me?” Ashley’s voice wobbled. “No, forget me. Do it for Scott and what his friendship meant to you.”

  I don’t like being manipulated. Attempts to handle me that way are usually doomed to failure. But I told her I’d do what I could, because there was a chance that with more information she might finally be able to put Scott’s death behind her.

  The lights flickered a few times and as the room quieted, the maitre d’ invited us into the adjacent room for dinner. There were no cards telling us where to sit. The reunion committee had wanted it to be more organic, letting the alums decide on the spot with whom we wished to eat. As a result, there were several chaotic minutes that resembled the Oklahoma Land Rush. There were arguments about who claimed which table first. Since the tables only held six, many of the alums had to settle for seats wherever they could find them. There was almost a skirmish between a group of cheerleaders and a group of computer nerds for possession of one table. The maitre d’ came to the rescue, setting up an additional table before things got out of hand. The reunion committee would have been wise to take note if they had any intention of presiding over another milestone event in the years ahead.

  I headed straight for the table Green Love had staked out. They were holding the last seat for me. I made my way around the table saying a proper hello, since I hadn’t had the opportunity earlier. I’d worked so closely with the other members that the bonds we’d formed were easily reclaimed.

  I’d meant to pay attention to the food we were served, because the Waverly was winning raves from local food critics. Travis had shrugged them off. “These are the same people who think New Camel pizza is great,” he’d reminded me. We made a friendly little wager over which of us would be vindicated by the food Saturday night. The Welcome Back Dinner provided me with a preview of it, but my friends’ stories stole my focus.

  The evening flew by too fast. We were all groaning about overeating and simultaneously wondering what we’d be served for dessert. Charlotte stopped at my table to hug my neck on her way to the bathroom. “I love you. You’re like the sister I never had.”

  “You have two sisters,” I said.

  “Wow, you’re right—I do! How about that?!”

  I grabbed her hand before she cou
ld walk away. “Charlotte, promise me you won’t drink any more tonight.”

  “I promise. Just coffee. Strong coffee.” She kissed my cheek and teetered off to find the restroom. Less than a minute later, a horrific scream ripped through the air. I just knew it was Charlotte. I jumped out of my seat and ran into her as she hobbled back into the dining room. She was sobbing hysterically, her face stark white. Black mascara was streaming down her cheeks with her tears, giving her a macabre appearance. What could have happened to her in the brief time she’d been out of sight?

  Her knees gave way. I grabbed her around the waist in time to ease her descent as she crumpled to the floor. “Are you okay? What happened?” By then everyone was on their feet. Someone offered her water, but she pushed it away. The nurse and two doctors in our midst knelt beside her to assess her condition.

  “It’s Genna,” she said between sobs. “I think she’s dead.” A siren screamed in the distance, punctuating her words. Whoever was manning the New Camel police station was already on his way. Paramedics wouldn’t be far behind. One of the benefits of living in a small town.

  I left Charlotte to the ministrations of the medical alums and hurried to the restroom off the lobby. A small crowd had gathered there, trying to figure out what was going on. I pushed past them with an air of authority, my face set in a grim expression that dared anyone to question me. I used the back of my hand to open the bathroom door. I had no intention of disturbing the crime scene. I just wanted to get a look at the victim. Maybe Charlotte was wrong. She’d had far too much to drink. If the victim had the same color hair as Genna, or similar clothing, Charlotte might have jumped to conclusions.

  I didn’t have far to go. Genna was lying on her back on the porcelain tile near the gleaming bank of sinks. There was blood on the floor that appeared to have come from her head, most likely when she fell unconscious. Foam oozed from her mouth and down her chin. Her eyes stared back at me as if she too were wondering what on earth had happened.

  About the Author

  Sharon Pape launched her delightful Abracadabra mystery series with Magick & Mayhem and continued it in That Olde White Magick and Magick Run Amok. Sharon is also the author of the popular Portrait of Crime and Crystal Shop mystery series. She started writing stories in first grade and never looked back. She studied French and Spanish literature in college and went on to teach both languages on the secondary level.

  After being diagnosed with and treated for breast cancer in 1992, Sharon became a Reach to Recovery peer support volunteer for the American Cancer Society. She went on to become the coordinator of the program on Long Island. She and her surgeon created a nonprofit organization called Lean On Me to provide peer support and information to newly diagnosed women and men.

  After turning her attention back to writing, Sharon has shared her storytelling skills with thousands of fans. She lives with her husband on Long Island, New York, near her grown children. She loves reading, writing, and providing day care for her grand-dogs.

  Visit her at www.sharonpape.com.