I swallowed hard, staring down the barrel of Barney Delaney’s gun and resisting the urge to kick myself for not noticing before now that he had a weapon under his coat. Gus was right. I should leave the murder investigations to trained professionals like her.

“Keep moving,” he growled, waving the weapon in front of my face. “Can’t stop now.”

“Barney, why are you doing this?” I asked, futilely stalling for time. No one was coming to help me. I knew that. I’d foolishly wandered off without telling anyone where I was going. Even Pandora didn’t know where I’d gone.

My chest constricted at the thought of her back in the bookstore, wondering when I would come back. Maybe never. I hoped someone would figure out she was in there and feed her. Who would take care of her? Wait, it wasn’t productive to think like that. I’d gotten myself out of much worse predicaments. Okay, maybe not worse but at least just as bad. I needed to keep Barney talking until I could figure a way out of this mess. “It’s not too late.”

“You’re wrong.” He shook his head. “It was too late from the minute I saw you hesitate when those bells rang at the church. You know what happened, and now I need to take care of it. Now get walking.”

He was nothing if not perceptive. Yes, I’d figured it out from the bells. Barney must have hidden his car on the side street and walked over to the post office, killed Albert, then rushed to the diner to establish his alibi. Score one for me, amateur detective. Too bad I hadn’t figured it out about a half hour sooner.

He gestured with the gun, and I plodded forward through the trees, wet mud and leaves sucking at my shoes. I continued to press for answers. “You never answered my question, Barney. Why do this? Why did you kill Albert?”

Silence reigned for so long I thought he wouldn’t answer. Then he spoke in quiet tones, so low I wouldn’t have heard him if I’d not been paying attention.

“I’m a descendent of Miles Danforth, one of the original magical families that settled here in Mystic Notch,” he said. “I knew about the pleasantry charm and the buried ingredients well before that letter surfaced. In fact, I’ve already collected the first one and have it hidden amongst the items in my shop.”

Guess that explained the weird vibes I got in there.

“Don’t bother looking for it though,” he continued. “No one will ever find it.”

“So, you plan to gather the rest of the ingredients and lift the charm. Why?”

“Because it’s time for a little shake-up around town. Things have been too peaceful for too long. Mystic Notch has become nothing but a quaint little tourist trap, full of tacky souvenirs and cheap T-shirts. That’s never what the founders of the town intended. Never.”

“And you think creating chaos will help?” I did my best to keep the censure from my tone and failed miserably, if the glare Barney gave me as we walked was any indication. “Seems like it would only hurt a lot of people.”

“Maybe some will be hurt, but others like me will be helped.”

We stopped in a small clearing near a babbling brook. As I scanned the area, I spotted a shovel leaning against the trunk of a tree, and my heart sank.

“I’m sorry it has come to this, Willa.” Barney might have been sorry but not enough to prevent him from jamming his gun in my back hard enough to make me yelp as he guided me toward the tree with the shovel. “But you were too nosy for your own good.”

“What are you going to do?” I considered running, but given my bad leg and the darkness and the fact that he had a loaded gun handy, my chances didn’t seem good. “Kill me?”

“As a matter of fact, yeah. Got a brilliant plan all worked out, actually.” Barney sounded proud of himself. I wanted to kick him hard in the shins. “See that shovel there? I’m going to conk you on the head with it then shove your body in the stream there. You float off, trace evidence gets washed away, and I escape, then I can come back later and blame it all on Nathan Anderson since the shovel belongs to him.”

“You’re the one who broke into his shed earlier, aren’t you?” I wasn’t always the brightest bulb in the lamp, but I had my moments. “And that’s why you’re wearing the gloves tonight, huh? No fingerprints.”

“Bingo.” Barney’s teeth shone dull white in the moonlight. “Since you’ve been sticking your nose into Nathan’s business too, following him around and all, you just made my job a lot easier. The cops already suspect him of Albert’s murder, seeing as how he was at the scene of Albert’s death. Yeah, I saw him pull up just as I was slipping through those shrubs. Figure all I need to do is tell Gus that Nathan tried to sell me that stamp on the envelope, and she’ll take care of the rest. After all, she’s got no clue about the true value of that letter, and that dummy Desmond Lacroix can verify he told Nathan his father-in-law had the envelope.”

I did my best to stay calm and not panic, though adrenaline pounded through my system like a jackhammer. “Where’s the letter now?”

“Right here.” Barney pulled it from his pocket with his free hand and waved it in the air. “Once I finish getting all the ingredients, Mystic Notch will be restored to the great town my ancestors intended it to be.”

I watched as he waved the letter. If nothing else, maybe I could somehow destroy it. But the gun was still pointing at me. To lunge for it would be a death sentence. I had to think of something quickly.

“And now it’s time for you to die.” Barney lowered his hand, about to put the letter back in his pocket.

I tensed. It was now or never. He was old. Maybe I could overpower him.

Meroowww!

A god-awful screech echoed through the air, followed by a white ball of flying fur.

I ducked and covered my head as whatever it was landed squarely on Barney’s face and took him down. The letter went flying through the air. The gun fired wildly, the bullet grazing a tree nearby before pinging off into the darkness, but I didn’t care about that as I helplessly watched the letter drift off on a gust of wind, flying over the treetops.

A guttural growl and a screech had me swiveling my attention back to Barney and whatever that thing was that was attacking him. Wait. Was that Felicity Bates’s cat, Fluff?

Before I could ponder it further, another horrifying keen rang out, and Barney dropped the gun in favor of self-preservation. He had both hands on the cat now, trying to pry the fierce creature from his head.

Through the moonlight, I caught sight of the weapon a few feet away. This might be my only shot at escape. Trembling, I inched over and reached out to grab the gun, only to hear a voice behind me say, “Stop right there!”