“We’ve got to go up there,” Teddy said, even as apprehension stabbed her in the gut.

“No we don’t,” Oscar said in a tone that bespoke finality. But he was standing there, staring up at the glowing green thing as if part of him needed to.

Teddy wanted to go up there and check it out, but at the same time, she really didn’t. So there was no reason to argue.

Instead, they both stared up at the display. She edged closer to him—partly because she was a little chilly now, standing in a wet bikini with the wind from the lake and no sun, and partly because it felt good when his arm came around her and she nestled against his solid, warm body.

The entity floated on the west-southwest side of the gallery that ran around the top of the lighthouse. It was lower than she remembered it being the last time, closer to the trees and not as near the railing.

Eerie, translucent, glowing lime green, and it billowed and shifted like a cloud as if moving with the wind. It didn’t seem to want to form any particular shape, like many ghosts did—at least, from what Teddy remembered from books and movies—but it wasn’t stagnant.

Then it began to expand, growing to a larger diameter. It frothed and undulated and roiled like an angry neon storm cloud as a sharp, agonized scream filled the air.

Teddy jolted, grabbing for Oscar’s arm, as the hair on the back of her neck and everywhere on her body shot straight up. The scream filled her ears, and the malevolent green cloud roiled against the dark, skeletal tree branches…and then, all at once, it was gone.

And the world was silent.

They stood there for a moment. Teddy could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears and the rasp of her own breathing. She was aware of the tension vibrating along Oscar’s arm, which had pulled her tight against him.

“Okay,” she said finally. “Okay.”

He released her. Continuing to look up at the dark silhouette of the lighthouse against the starry sky, he said, “It was early tonight. It came early.”

Teddy blinked. “You’re right. It’s always been at one thirty. I wonder why.”

“So do I.”

His voice was quiet, and the underlying calm in his tone told her that Oscar had accepted the fact that there was a supernatural presence here.

“It looked different. Than before,” she said. “So. What do we do now?”

He looked at her with surprise. “You’re asking me? Aren’t you usually the one with the plan?” There was a note of affectionate teasing in his words, and the way he looked at her made Teddy feel warm again. “But since you did, I think the best idea is to try and get some sleep. And tomorrow morning—when it’s light—we can go up and check out the lighthouse again.”

For once, she was ready to relinquish control. It had been an exhausting week, and an emotional rollercoaster of an evening. “Yes. Let’s do that. In the light. And we can try to find out more about Stuart Millore tomorrow, too.”

Oscar unlocked the front door to the cottage and pushed it open. After reaching in to turn on the light, he stepped back so Teddy could enter first.

Exhaustion hit her. She just wanted to be prone. In her bed.

Not necessarily alone, however.

She turned to him as he came through the door, and, looking up into his shadowy face, she stepped into his embrace. To her relief and pleasure, his arms slipped around her right away and he dipped his head to kiss her gently on the mouth.

“Are you all right in your side of the cottage alone?” he asked, pulling back to look at her. “You’re welcome to stay over here—there’s room for two in my bed, or I can sleep on the floor or the couch.” He smiled softly, indicating the choice was completely hers and he was fine either way.

“I think—”

“Oh my God.” He shoved her aside then darted past, his attention suddenly fixed on something behind her.

Teddy spun around to see chaos. “Oh my God, Oscar.”

His very organized lab setup was no longer neat as a pin. His chair was upended, a computer screen was turned over, and bottles and slides and petri dishes were strewn all over the floor. Some were intact, some broken. The door to his mini fridge sagged open, and his computer was tipped over. The packet of plastic gloves had been torn open and the pieces strewn all over. The empty gloves looked like ghostly white hands.

But the thing that made her heart stop and her breathing go shallow was the angry red lettering on the wall:

GO AWAYYYYYY

“Stay here,” he said. “Call the police. I’m going to check my bedroom to see if anything else—”

But Teddy had already flung open the connecting door. “My laptop,” she cried, sprinting toward her bedroom.

Her room was in similar disarray: the bedclothes torn off, the curtains and window shade off-kilter, the desk chair on its side.

“Nooooo.” She sank to the floor next to her laptop. The screen was smashed and all the cords had been yanked free, including that of the full-size keyboard she used.

“Teddy.” Oscar’s voice held shock and horror. He crouched next to her, settling a comforting hand on the back of her shoulders, rubbing gently. “I’m so sorry. Maybe the screen can be fixed. As long as the rest of the—oh.”

She showed him the back of the bottom of the laptop: it had been smashed on that side as well. Struggling with anger and grief, she pulled to her feet, cradling the murdered device.

“Who would do this?” she said, looking around with eyes that no longer saw clearly. Furious tears pooled, glazing her view. “Who?”

“I don’t know.” Oscar hugged her close as he dialed his phone one-handed. “I’d like to report a break-in and vandalism at Stony Cape Keeper’s Cottage,” he said.

When he hung up, he drew Teddy close into his arms. Still hugging her laptop, she rested her head on his shoulder. “Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked.

She knew he was talking about the computer and the book she’d just finished. “I’ll need a new laptop,” she said with a pained laugh. “Thank God I backed up the manuscript to a jump drive.”

He tensed, then relaxed and pulled away to look at her. “You did? Oh, thank God.” He sounded as relieved as she felt. “I thought… I was afraid you’d have to start all over.”

Her heart swelled at the absolute truth in his voice. “I always do. Every day. It’s one of the few things I’m a little OCD about. I back it up, remove the flash drive, and put it in my purse—because what if there’s a fire? Or I’m in my car with the laptop and get in an accident, and the computer is smashed? There are a million and one things that can happen. When I’m at home, I also back up to the cloud, but because of no Wi-Fi here, I had to settle for a flash drive. Which— Wait a minute.”

She pulled away. “This had to have happened while we were at the pool. Just within the last couple of hours.”

“I know.” He took her hand, and she felt the comfort of it—for she’d just realized that it was only by chance they’d come back to the cottage and missed the vandal.

Or whoever—whatever—it had been. She shivered.

If they’d come back any earlier…

As if reading her mind, he squeezed her hand.

“Let’s go back to the other side and wait for the police.”

The next morning, Oscar woke to a light rain pattering on the roof of the cottage and Teddy curled up to him in his bed. She was warm and soft, and she smelled delicious. Her thick hair tumbled over the pillow like a dark cloud, and he reached out to finger a thick lock of it as he looked out at the drab morning.

Teddy slept with her mouth slightly open, emitting a delicate snore that made him smile affectionately. Even in her sleep, the woman doesn’t close her mouth.

One arm was tucked beneath her chin, and the other draped over his waist. Their feet touched, with hers settled on top of his.

It was the mingling of their feet that struck him the most. It felt so natural. And comfortable.

Unfortunately, they were both fully clothed—and had been since they crashed onto his bed after the police (Joe Cap had answered the call) left late last night. She’d pulled a light blanket over both of them, covering up herself and the tank top and shorts she’d changed into after taking off her wet bikini, then slipped into an exhausted sleep while Oscar lay there for a while, just holding her and thinking about everything that had happened.

Now, with a pang of regret and a bark of disappointment from his hormones, Oscar eased away from his bedmate. Much as he would have liked to kiss her face, so slack and pretty in repose—and more—he decided it was best to seek a cold shower instead.

When he got out of the shower, he smelled coffee from the kitchen. Dressed and groomed, he came out to find Teddy sipping from a mug, looking at the mess his makeshift lab had become.

“I’ll help you clean up,” she told him. Her hair was a wild mass spilling over her shoulders, and her eyes were a little puffy from lack of sleep. She was still wearing that little black tank top and a pair of boxer shorts, and he fought with himself over whether he should suggest she change clothing. His hormones won.

She gave him a wry smile as she began to straighten up the bottles that had been tipped over. “We’ll salvage what we can. Then maybe we can go get me a new laptop. That is, after we go into town to make our official report. I almost forgot about that.”

He agreed, and they set to work to the tune of James Blunt (her choice) mixed with Ray LaMontagne (his). Both artists seemed about right for a dreary, rainy day of cleaning up.

“It’s bad enough they—he—it—had to mess up the place. But to use paint?” she said, scowling at the red writing on the wall. The graffiti even spilled onto an amateurish painting of a lighthouse that hung above the sofa. “As if that would scare us away.” She gestured with the spray-paint can, which had been left on the floor. Red paint had dripped from it, reminding him unpleasantly of blood.

Oscar eyed her with interest. “Knowing that someone broke in and scrawled ‘Go Awayyyy’ on the wall doesn’t make you the least bit nervous and want to leave?”

“Well, a little. But mostly it makes me want to know why they want us to leave. Doesn’t it you?”

He sighed as he stacked a few petri dishes. “Yes, dammit, now that you mention it. Of course it does. But I’m also concerned about safety. Yours, in particular.”

“Yeah, I know. Me too. Yours, I mean.” She gave him a cheeky grin, and he bit back a smile.

“And did you just say ‘it’ a minute ago?”

Rising from sweeping glass into a dustpan, she shrugged. “Well, it might have been the ghost. I mean, after last night, Oscar, you can’t deny there’s a ghost here.”

He muttered to himself and turned back to picking up test tubes—the ones that hadn’t been smashed, anyway.

“Come on, Oscar,” she said. “Admit it. We saw the ghost.”

“Fine. There might be a ghost, but I’m certain it wasn’t a phantom that caused this sort of destruction and smashed your laptop.”

“How do you know? Ethan told us at Trib’s that when Diana’s aunt was haunting them, she tossed things around in the kitchen. Same thing.” Teddy spread her hands to indicate the disaster in the living room.

Oscar didn’t respond. He wasn’t entirely certain whether he’d prefer it to be a ghost or a mortal who’d done all of this.

Then, suddenly, he had an answer. “A ghost doesn’t need to wear gloves,” he said, snatching up a rubber glove that had been left slumped on the floor. “Look. It’s got spray paint on it—dribbled all over it, probably leaked from the can. You can see, if he was holding the can while wearing the glove—see the paint would have spilled just like this.”

Teddy came over to examine it. “I’m impressed, Dr. London. Good eyes on you. Well, we can bring that and this”—she pointed to the spray paint—“when we go in to file the report. I’ll put them in a plastic bag—like a real evidence bag!” she added with a grin.

Oscar rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hold back a smile. Only a writer would be excited about having to use an evidence bag.

“Speaking of which, I know Captain Longbow looked around outside last night, but he might have missed something in the dark. We should take a look.” She glanced outside. “Now, before it starts raining any harder. If there’s anything to see, the rain will obliterate any tracks.”

“Good point. By the time he or Officer van Hest come back to look around in the light, it could be gone,” Oscar replied. He couldn’t resist: the idea of playing detective put an enthusiastic glint in Teddy’s eyes.

Again, he thought, what a strange and interesting woman she was, and followed her outside. Fortunately, the rain was still soft and quite pleasant.

Oscar made a quick circuit of the parking area, which was dirt sprinkled with gravel and probably wouldn’t show much in the way of tire tracks. But if there were tracks, that would tell them how the invaders had arrived.

As he finished his perusal, he commented, “Joe Cap said he saw no evidence of a forced lock or door, but—”

“Footprints!” Teddy squealed. Oblivious to the little drips running down her face, she was standing near the exterior door to the lighthouse—a door that, to his knowledge, neither of them had used. “Right along the side of the building here. Because of the overhang, the rain hasn’t gotten to it yet. Maybe he came from the beach!”

Crouched on the ground, she was busy snapping pictures with her flip phone. “It looks like a boot of some sort—a hiking boot, not a cowboy boot like Captain Longbow was wearing. And it’s too small to be yours,” she added, looking down at his large feet as he walked up next to her.

“Let’s take a look at the beach,” he suggested, wishing he’d brought an umbrella. His hair was dripping in his face, and he had to keep pushing back that one annoying lock that always fell forward.

Teddy agreed, and shot to her feet so quickly that she nearly clocked him on the chin with her head. He grabbed her by the arm to steady her, and they started off through the knee-high, blade-like grass that grew in the sandy ground separating the sod and dirt from the expansive beach. The hollow, circular reeds were damp and sharp, and water sprinkled all over his jeans as he pushed through them.

Again, Teddy seemed unconcerned about the dribbles of rain. She even took off her sandals once she reached the edge of the water, holding them in her hand. “I can’t believe I haven’t walked down to the beach more than once since I got here,” she said, looking out over Lake Michigan. “I’m pitiful.”

Despite the rain, the huge body of water was relatively calm today, sending little waves curling onto the beach around her toes—which, he noticed again, had bright pink toenails. But in the distance, dark clouds were gathering. More rain would be coming—and soon.

“Well, you’ve been a little busy,” he said. “And I haven’t come down here much either. It’s such a nice view from the porch, and then I don’t get sand in my shoes—like I am now. Plus we’re getting wet.”

“It’s just a little bit of rain,” she said, smiling at him in that way of hers that made her dimples dance. “And it’s summer, so it’s not even cold.” A little droplet clung to her lashes, and another one drifted down her cheek. It looked like a tear.

He brushed it away, and their eyes met as his fingers curved under her chin. Oscar felt his heart give a good, hard ka-thump, and for a moment he couldn’t breathe.

He just…fell.

“I really like you, Oscar,” she said after a moment, sounding a little shaky. She reached up to tuck back that annoying curl that fell onto his forehead. Though the gentle rain muted his vision, he saw the way her blue eyes softened.

“I really like you, too, Teddy,” he replied, then bent to kiss her gently. When he pulled her into his arms, the rain didn’t matter at all.

A boom of thunder in the distance had them breaking apart, but she grabbed his hand when he would have pulled away. “We’d better finish looking around before the sky opens up. It looks pretty nasty out there.”

She tugged him along the beach—what she was looking for, he didn’t know. But he did know he liked the feel of her hand in his.

“I don’t see anything— Wait. What’s this?” He released her in order to crouch over the deep crease in the sand, stretching vertically from the water. There were footprints on one side of it. “Looks like they had a boat here—they look like the same footprints.”

“They sure do,” she agreed. “That’s how they came. By boat.”

Oscar looked out over the water. He couldn’t help remember the blue and green forty-footer he’d seen that first night—and the men dropping something overboard.

It didn’t take a genius—or the Coast Guard or Joe Cap, or even a thriller writer—to know it could be something as ugly as the part of a body…or some other package that a colleague would pick up later.

Teddy must have been reading his mind, because she said, “Remember that boat the night we were trapped up on the lighthouse? You saw them drop something over the side—right out there.”

“I know. I told Joe Cap—er, Longbow—about it the other night at the beer tasting. He said he’d look into it.”

“It was probably drugs,” Teddy said, that enthusiasm back in her voice. “I mean, what else would it be?”

Oscar couldn’t help but laugh. He caught her hand again and swung it between them as he looked at her. “It could be any number of things. Probably trash, to be honest.”

“Or a body,” she said, those eyes sparkling with excitement, raindrops on her lashes.

“So says the thriller writer,” he replied, squeezing her hand. “Let’s go back before we melt. I’ll take a few pictures for Joe Cap,” he added when she looked as if she were going to protest. “We can tell him about it when we go in to file the report. Let’s finish cleaning up inside.”

An hour later, the two of them dashed through the now-pouring rain to Oscar’s Jeep to go into Wicks Hollow.

Teddy had taken a quick shower and put her hair into a thick, loose braid, then pinned it into a knot at the back of her head. It was the only way she’d be able to keep it from exploding into frizz in the damp humidity. She wore black capris with a sleeveless pink top and hot-pink sandals that almost matched her toenails, and felt she looked much more perky than she actually was after such an eventful day and night.

“I’m starving,” she said as they approached the quaint town. It was still raining heavily, so the streets were empty of tourists and there were lots of parking places. “We didn’t have breakfast and it’s after eleven. Why don’t we stop at Orbra’s Tea House? Apparently she makes the world’s best cinnamon scones, and it doesn’t look busy.”

Oscar was amenable to this, and moments later, they surged into the tea shop with soaking umbrellas.

“T.J. Mack! Come in, come in!” The sturdy, statuesque Orbra nearly squealed as she strode from the back of the shop, drying her hands on her calico apron. “And set your umbrellas right there in the stand. Nasty day to be out and about, but you came to the perfect place. Nothing like a good cup of tea to warm the bones.”

“Bring ’em over here, Orbry,” came a gravelly voice from across the room.

Teddy’s head had been bowed against the rain and beneath her umbrella, so until she heard the peremptory voice, she hadn’t realized anyone else was in the shop.

“You sit yourselves right here,” continued Maxine Took, who’d dragged herself out of the chair she’d commandeered at the table near the largest window in the shop. She brandished her walking stick, reminding Teddy that she was going to use it to murder someone in one of her books someday. “And who’s that with you there, Teddy?” Maxine peered at Oscar from behind thick glasses.

“Ayiyiyi, Maxie. Let the poor things sit down before you start badgering them,” said Juanita, who hadn’t gone to the trouble of hoisting her generous bottom from the chair on which it sat.

Before she could react, Teddy, along with Oscar, was ushered to the large, round table in a prime spot in the tea shop. In the center was a Scrabble board, obviously in mid-game. Along with Maxine and Juanita was another woman, probably in her sixties. She had round apple cheeks and cotton-candy-white hair in a modern style. Pleasingly plump and petite, she was dressed in a neat pale blue outfit and wore a large yellow diamond on her left ring finger.

“Sit down, sit down—mind you, now don’t bump the board. I’m kicking Juanita’s patootie right now, and I don’t want her using any excuse to call off the game.” Maxine grasped Oscar’s arm and yanked him unceremoniously into the chair next to hers, narrowly missing bumping him into the table.

“Maxine, you’re the only one who ever tries to cancel a game—when you aren’t winning.” Juanita looked up as Teddy took another empty seat at the table. Today, her nail polish was magenta, matching her bright lipstick (of which only remnants remained at the edges of her lips, likely due to the plate of half-finished scones in front of her). Her bright orange-red hair clashed furiously with the lip color and nail polish, but was offset a little by the dark blue eyeshadow she wore, which matched her paisley top.

The large leather bag with beady-eyed Bruce Banner in it sat on the deep-set window sill next to the table, likely so the little dog could have a good view of both interior and exterior. “You should see all the crafty ways Maxie tries to forfeit a game without actually forfeiting it,” Juanita explained.

“Lies,” Maxine said, pointing a dark, gnarled finger at her friend. “All lies.” But her eyes glinted with humor. “You missed my birthday party, Teddy Mack. Eighty-one, and I’m still as sharp as a tack. Worth celebrating, don’t you think?” Her question was more of an accusation.

“Oh,” Teddy said, genuinely confused. “I’m sorry. I’ve been working so hard on my book I didn’t realize—I don’t even think I knew about it. When was it?” She looked at Oscar for help, but he wasn’t doing anything but ping-ponging his attention between them. He looked as if he were afraid to open his mouth.

“Don’t worry about Maxine,” said the third woman, who’d been silent until now. “She just likes to fuss—and to get presents. The prettier the wrapping, the better. Anyway, I don’t think you were even in town for her birthday—which was back in June.” She smiled at Teddy, reminding her of a softer, less formal Queen Elizabeth II. “I’m Iva Bergstrom. It’s a pleasure to meet you—you are T.J. Mack, right? Declan’s cousin, the famous writer?”

“Of course that’s who she is. Why do you think I asked her to sit down? And her companion here.” Maxine sniffed and made a show of eyeballing Oscar. “What’s your name there, boy?”

“Maxine, Juanita, and Iva—I’d like you to meet my friend Dr. Oscar London,” Teddy said. “He’s a microbiologist who teaches and researches at Princeton.”

The tips of Oscar’s ears turned a little pink at her pompous announcement, but Teddy didn’t mind. She figured the best way to nip in the bud any commentary from Maxine was to come out with guns blazing.

And it worked.

“Princeton, you say?” Maxine asked with genuine interest. “Microbiology?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

“Oscar brought his own lab with him,” Teddy added, casually tossing her housemate to the wolves. “He set it up in the keeper’s cottage. He even brought his own refrigerator and a centrifuge. And what’s the other thing? Oh, a shaker.”

“You brought your own refrigerator?” Juanita exclaimed, her Hispanic accent particularly thick. “That’s a man who’s prepared. I like a man who’s prepared.” She gave him a very warm smile, and Teddy smothered one of her own.

“Stop flirting with the boy, Neety,” Maxine said. “You’ve had Melvin Horner in your sights for years now. He’s the town veterinarian,” she explained for the newcomers. “Too bad you can’t get him to put a ring on it like Iva here did.”

“Now, Maxine, I told you it’s only a gift, not an engagement—”

“What if I don’t want a ring?” Juanita shot back, cutting off Iva’s protest. “What if I just want to jump his bones whenever I want—then go back to my own house afterward?”

“Or better yet, do it at yours and kick him out after,” Maxine said with a nod. “That’s the way I always did it.”

“Exactly.” Juanita sniffed, and the two smiled at each other like the old friends they seemed to be. “Isn’t that what Cherry’s doing with that hot and sexy William Reckless?”

“He sure is ringing her bell,” Maxine said, shaking her head. “That man’s one long, tall, cold drink of water.”

Whatever might have come next was forestalled when Orbra elbowed her way into the conversation. She towered over them, all six-foot-plus of her, and offered menus to Teddy and Oscar. “All right, you three wildcats, let them alone so they can order. I can see poor Ms. Mack is—er, is it all right if I call you T.J.?”

“Call me Teddy. All my friends do, and that’s my real name,” Teddy said.

“Thank you, Teddy.” Orbra seemed particularly tickled by this. “Now, what can I get the two of you? It’s on the house today, so get whatever you like—you’ve given me so many hours of enjoyment, reading and listening to Sargent Blue and his adventures. I’m just honored you’re here. Maybe we could take a picture and I could frame it and hang it on the wall?”

“Of course,” Teddy replied, looking up from the menu. “I’ll be happy to sign it if you want.”

Orbra looked as if she might float away on cloud nine. “That’s very nice of you, T.J.—er, Teddy.”

“The scones are good today,” Maxine said—implying they weren’t always, and clearly needing to reinsert herself in the conversation. “She ain’t serving those lavender-blueberry ones she tried out on us one time. Thought I was gonna choke on ’em, even with the clotted cream to help ’em go down.”

“You ate three of them,” Juanita said, rolling her eyes. “And I thought they were divine, Orbry. I do wish you’d make them again.”

Orbra turned a cool smile on her friend. “I happen to have a batch coming out of the oven in a few. I’ll make certain not to put any of them on your plate, Maxie.” She gave Teddy an arch smile as Maxine sputtered. “What kind of tea would you like, dearie? I’ve got a lovely zhen vin pearls white tea that’s delicate enough for summer, but has a bit of a caffeine kick. The gunpowder green is very smooth, if a bit grassy if you like that style. Or if you want herbal, there’s a cherry-mint blend I’m trying out that seems to be going well. Blended with rooibos leaves.”

Teddy, who’d been looking over the extensive list of teas, was glad for a recommendation. She didn’t know the difference between an oolong and a pu-erh, or what on earth rooibos was. And then there were emerald greens, and leaves, and pearls… The only words that looked familiar were chai and Darjeeling. “The zhen pearl tea sounds great—”

“As long as she don’t burn it,” Maxine interjected. “Orbry knows you don’t brew white tea or green tea higher than one-seventy, but she brought me a jasmine pearl green once and it was singed. Nearly burned my tongue off, and there was a bitter aftertaste—”

“One seventy-five, you mean. And that was because Annie was new,” Orbra snapped. “I know better than that, and you know it, Maxine, so quit your tattling. Annie was new and she poured the wrong temperature water over the tea leaves, and now Maxine won’t ever let me forget it. That was ten years ago, for crying out loud.”

Teddy glanced at Oscar, who seemed just as fascinated—if not taken aback—by the complications of tea brewing as she was. “I didn’t realize you had to brew tea at certain temperatures,” Teddy said, deciding she could put that in a book someday. “You really have to do that?”

“It’s like serving wine at the right temperature,” Juanita explained. “It’s not that it ruins the taste—”

“It scalds the leaves,” Maxine grumbled. “Boiling water’s okay for herbals, but—”

“—but it just tastes better at the right temp.” Juanita smiled. “I owned a few restaurants before I sold them off and retired, and we were very careful to keep the wines we offered at the right temperatures. Just makes the picky people happy,” she added with a meaningful eye-roll at her friend.

“Her restaurants—they were called Nita’s—were written up in Midwest Living,” Maxine said. “So you can bet your patootie Neety did it all right. Damn it, I sure do miss that chicken mole you used to make, with the crispy fried spinach on top. And your homemade corn tortillas. It was just the right amount of spicy and peanut-y. And your rojo sauce.”

Juanita smiled. “I’ll make them again, just for you, Maxie. As soon as you beat me at Scrabble.” Her grin turned crafty.

“All right, all right,” Orbra said, slamming her hand on the table and making the Scrabble tiles jump. “Knock it off, you two. Teddy and Oscar will never come back if you don’t stop talking about jumping bones and arguing. Now, what can I get for you, there, young man?”

“Don’t order coffee,” Juanita said in a stage whisper. “There’s not one bean on the menu.”

“Um…I like Tetley tea,” Oscar replied.

“Tetley?” Orbra sounded as if he’d just ordered roadkill. “Tetley tea?”

Maxine’s eyes went wide, and she looked at Juanita, and they both looked at Iva, and all three seemed to be holding their breaths. Under her breath, Maxine was making uh-oh sounds.

“You mean the stuff they sell in the stores…in tea bags?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Oscar said. “My grandmother—she’s from England—she used to always serve me Tetley tea when I was sick. She’d put honey and very, very thin slices of lemon in it because I didn’t like milk the English way.”

Orbra seemed to deflate a little. “Well, that’s good and fine, young man, but I’m afraid I don’t have any Tetley here. We only offer the finest loose tea at Orbra’s Tea House, sourced directly from the growers. But I can make you a nice Darjeeling with honey and very thin lemon slices, and I venture to say it’ll be just as good—or better—than what your granny used to make.”

The ladies at the table released their breaths, and Teddy winked at Oscar, who was either oblivious to the undercurrents or didn’t care.

She rather suspected it was the latter. He was fun like that.

“Very well. I’ll get those pots going for you, and I’ll be bringing little sandwiches out shortly. Egg salad, cucumber, chicken salad, and pimiento cream cheese.” Orbra, who towered over the table, arched a brow as if to challenge anyone to ask a question or decline a flavor. Then she whisked off to the kitchen.

She’d hardly left when Iva closed her hand over Teddy’s arm. “So you have a ghost up at Stony Cape Cottage!” Her eyes were dancing with delight.

“Yes, that’s right,” Teddy replied, a little shocked by the sudden change of topic. “How did you hear about that?”

The three ladies burst out laughing. “Honey, there’s no secrets in Wicks Hollow—especially when it comes to ghosts,” Juanita said, petting Bruce Banner’s tiny head so enthusiastically that it bounced a little. He didn’t seem to mind. “And Iva here can sniff out a supernatural event better than a bloodhound.”

“I’m very sensitive to the metaphysical,” Iva said as she patted Teddy’s hand. Her round cheeks were pink with pleasure, and her blue eyes danced. “I read a little bit of tarot, and I’m currently rearranging my condo using feng shui applications. If you ever want someone to look over your office—where you write your books—and make sure it’s got good feng shui, you just let me know. But that’s enough about me. Tell us about your ghost!”

“Well, it appears to like to hang around at the top of the lighthouse,” Teddy said slowly. Oscar, she noticed, was not participating in the conversation. Instead, to her surprise, he and Maxine appeared to be in an intense conversation of their own—and for once, the octogenarian’s voice was at a normal volume and didn’t dominate the table.

“Does it manifest into a specific shape?” Iva asked. “Does it do anything?”

“It screams,” Juanita said. “I told you that.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Iva replied impatiently. “But I want to hear it from Teddy herself. Otherwise, how will we figure out what to do?”

“What to do? You mean…like how to put it to rest?” Teddy asked. Not that she hadn’t had a similar thought herself—after all, that was the reason for ghosts, wasn’t it? Something had to be fixed in order for them to rest in peace.

“Well, obviously something’s wrong, or it wouldn’t be haunting the place,” Iva said. “Now, tell me all about it.”

Teddy glanced at Oscar, who was still talking to Maxine. Now he was animated, using his hands to gesture and demonstrate something. She heard him say something about algal blooms and vibrio—whatever that was.

She turned back to Iva. “It’s like a green phosphorescent cloud. And it just kind of hovers there—I haven’t seen it form into anything substantial.”

“It’s green? So we have a real Mystery of the Green Ghost,” Iva said with a smile. When Teddy looked at her funny, Iva replied, “That’s the title of a book my younger patrons used to check out of the library many years ago: The Three Investigators and the Mystery of the Green Ghost. That was a wonderful series for youngsters—much better than that prim and perfect Nancy Drew, in my opinion—I enjoyed those too, but the original ones written in the twenties, rather than the cleaned-up versions they did in the fifties. She was a little sassier in the originals.

“Anyway, the Three Investigators was mostly written for boys, but a lot of my girls devoured them too. In that book, the green ghost took the form of an old Chinese man. And it was a sickly neon-green color—the ghost, I mean.”

Teddy blinked at the very detailed non sequitur and wished desperately for tea and food. Her brain was feeling very soft and mushy. “I see. You’re a librarian?”

“Yes, indeed. For over forty years. Loved every minute of it, and I have an entire noggin filled with all sorts of random information and trivia.” Iva smiled, tapping the side of her head. “I understand Sargent Blue is a librarian too—or was, until he decided to get into the spy business.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Smart idea, making a main character a librarian. You wouldn’t believe the stuff we pack away over the years—literally and figuratively.” She tapped her temple again. “And I’ve always thought the narrow, dark stacks tucked deep in the second basement of a university library would be the perfect place for a killer to be stalking his prey.”

Just then, Orbra returned, pushing a multilevel cart. On top were two mismatched teapots, each made of lovely, hand-painted china. Next to them were two teacups and saucers made of china so delicate that they were translucent.

On the second level of the cart were two-tier trays laden with scones and sandwiches on paper-thin bread. The bottom level of the cart had small plates, cloth napkins, and an assortment of jams, jellies, clotted cream, and butter. Teddy’s mouth began to water.

Even as Orbra set out the tea service, Iva continued her questions. “Does the ghost do anything besides just hang around up there at the top of the lighthouse?”

“The first time we saw it, it was right there, suspended on the gallery next to us,” Teddy replied. “Right by the door. But last night, it was lower, and a little further away from the lighthouse. And the color was a little different—more neon green. It might have just been from where we were standing.”

If Oscar wasn’t all that interested in investigating the ghost, at least she had someone else to bounce ideas off on. “Also last night, the appearance was much earlier than usual. It was around ten o’clock instead of one thirty. I don’t know what that means.”

“You’ve seen it how many times?”

“Only the two, but the scream comes every night at one thirty. Except last night, it came at around ten,” Teddy replied.

“There’s a scream?”

Teddy explained, then continued, “We hear the scream every night, but I only saw the ghost two nights—because I was in bed the other nights when the scream came. And I wasn’t going to look out the window to investigate.” She gave a wry smile.

“Was last night’s sighting before or after you discovered the cottage had been ransacked?” asked Orbra.

Teddy gaped up at her. “You know about the break-in?”

Orbra shrugged. “My granddaughter, Helga, is one of Joe Longbow’s local cops. She told me you’d be coming in today to make a formal report. There’s not much kept quiet here in Wicks Hollow.”

“Oh—Officer van Hest. I didn’t make the connection. Yes, we’re going to the station after we finish here.” Teddy took a bite of what appeared to be the infamous lavender-blueberry scone, and her eyes widened with delight. “This is incredible,” she fairly moaned, then took another bite of the warm, crumbly scone buttered with clotted cream. “The best I’ve ever tasted.”

“Well?” Iva said as she sneaked a pimiento sandwich off the tray. “When did the ransacking happen?”

“We noticed it after we saw the ghost. But we were just coming back from a—a walk when the ghost appeared at the top of the lighthouse, so the ransacking could have been done at any time after we left—we were gone for maybe ninety minutes at the most. But Oscar says it’s not the ghost who did the ransacking because whoever it was wore a pair of gloves. He found them.”

“No, no, it wouldn’t be the ghostly presence,” Iva said sagely. “You’ve only seen it at the top of the lighthouse, and the specter falls off then disappears. There’s no reason to believe it has broached the house itself.”

“So the ransacking is unrelated to the ghost,” Juanita said.

“Possibly,” Iva said. “Or, possibly, the ghost decided to show itself to the ransackers. That could be an explanation for its early appearance.” She looked at Teddy. “It was trying to scare them off, perhaps.”

“Yes, I wondered the same thing,” Teddy replied—which was true, but she hadn’t thought it until just this moment. Still, she had thought of it.

“So either the ghost was protecting its house from being messed up or damaged, or the person ransacking it was known as a danger to the ghost.”

“I guess that follows,” Teddy said, though she was certain, given time, she could think of at least three other reasons the ghost might have appeared early last night. “But I don’t know how we’re going to figure out what the ghost wants until we figure out who it is. Or was.”

“Exactly.”

“But what’s more important, at this point,” Oscar said, suddenly joining the conversation, “is figuring out who broke in—and, just as importantly, why they want us to leave.”

“Exactly,” Iva said again.

“We found some clues,” Teddy said. “Some footprints by the side of the lighthouse that’s farthest from the main entrance and parking area—they’re hiking boots. And it looks like a boat was dragged up onshore there on the island’s beach. Probably last night, because the marks looked fresh. We got pictures of them before the rain got too hard and washed it away.”

“Not many reasons someone would beach a boat on that little island,” Orbra said, bending over to refill Teddy’s teacup. “How’s that not-Tetley tea going down there, young man?”

“Don’t tell her I said this, but it’s better than my grandmother used to make,” Oscar replied with a smile. “And your scones? Hers aren’t even close.”

“All right, then,” Orbra said, looking mollified. “Now you finish up your sandwiches there and head on over to the police station. Helga’s been waiting for you.”

“How did she know— Oh, right,” Teddy said, holding up her hand. “Everyone knows everything in Wicks Hollow.”