What a difference twenty-four hours made. I set down a tray of Earl Gray tea—no more ghostly visions tonight—and snickerdoodle cookies I’d picked up for dessert to go along with the pizza Striker had brought over and the breadsticks Gus picked up at the corner store.

“So, explain to me again exactly how you figured out Barney was guilty?” I said, taking the seat across the table from my sister. “I mean, I know you said you didn’t believe his alibi.”

Gus gnawed on a piece of breadstick while mulling this over. “Yeah, that’s right. See, us real cops have a protocol we follow. First we get some suspects then check their alibis then follow up on clues. We don’t just run around town, accusing people and getting almost killed in the woods like amateurs.” She leveled a look at me, but then her eyes softened. “Anyway, I’d had my doubts about him all along, honestly. He just didn’t act quite right during questioning, like he was hiding something. Turned out that something happened to be the fact he’d killed Albert.”

“Yeah, but you told me he had an alibi. Seemed like you believed it then,” I said.

“Nah, I just told you that so you wouldn’t butt in and try to investigate him.” She crunched off another bite of the breadstick. “Guess that didn’t work.”

Sipping my tea, I glanced over at Striker, who seemed quite engrossed in feeding Pandora pieces of pizza.

“Oh, you don’t care for pepperoni, eh?” Striker said, chuckling as Pandora turned up her feline nose at his offering. He tossed the meat aside and tore off a piece of crust instead. The cat sat in his lap, preening and swishing her tail like the queen she envisioned herself to be. Striker held out the crust, and Pandora sniffed it before taking a tentative nibble.

Must be nice to have someone wait on you hand and foot like that. I did roll my eyes this time as Striker cooed and praised the cat for eating. “Ah, there’s the ticket. You liked that, didn’t you? Such a pretty girl. Yes. So pretty and smart and clever.”

“Seriously, dude.” Gus wrinkled her nose, giving him a disgruntled stare. “You carry on with that cat like it knows what you’re saying.”

I snorted. “She does have a point.”

“Maybe she does understand me,” Striker said, his expression turning defensive. “You ladies don’t know.”

Gus harrumphed. “Well, what I do know it that my sister here almost ruined everything last night. Speaking of explaining things, how about you tell me why you were out in the woods with a dangerous killer last night.”

“Oh, well.” I hid my fluster behind my mug of tea, taking a good long drink as I tried to come up with a plausible excuse that didn’t involve talking to ghosts. My gaze landed on Pandora, who was now curled up in Striker’s lap, purring loudly as she snoozed. Lucky girl.

After clearing my throat, I said, “I was looking for my cat.”

As if in agreement, Pandora meowed in her sleep.

“That so.” Gus sounded thoroughly unconvinced. “Then why’d she turn up with Striker later, sis?”

Crap. I met Striker’s gaze with a help-me look.

His gray eyes widened slightly before he turned to Gus with a frown. “I was looking for Pandora too. That’s why I wasn’t at my desk when you called in. I’d received a report right before that of a loose cat running in the street, and the description sounded exactly like Pandora here.” He stroked the cat’s head. “I didn’t want anything to happen to Willa’s pet, so of course I went right away to check it out.”

“Of course you did.” Gus’s suspicious gaze darted between him and me. “What’s going on with you two, huh? You guys moonlighting on investigations or something?”

“Uh, not exactly.” Striker reached over and took my hand, which was resting atop the table. “We, um, we’ve gotten a lot closer over the past few weeks, and we’re kind of more of a permanent thing now, I guess.”

He gave me a hesitant look, and whatever reservations I’d had about our relationship caved. He was such a good guy—loyal, kind, smart, funny, brave. I’d be a fool to turn him away. I squeezed his fingers reassuringly. “Right. Yes. Striker and I are more of a permanent thing, Gus.”

“Ugh.” Gus made a face. “Please tell me you’re not going to sit around and make googly eyes at each other all the time now. I need Striker to help out in Mystic Notch sometimes. I need him to be focused on cases, not wooing you, sis.”

“I can do both,” Striker said, gently setting the cat on the floor, then pushed to his feet to take our trash from dinner to the kitchen. Pandora scampered off toward the back door of the house. “I’m gifted that way.”

I grinned as Striker winked at me. Gus groaned and stood as well. “That’s it. I’m out of here.” She wrapped half a dozen cookies in a napkin and shoved them in her pocket for later. “I’ll give you guys some alone time so you can do… whatever it is you do.”

“Thanks.” I rose to walk my sister to the door. “What’s going to happen with Barney and his shop?”

“He’s currently being held in the county jail without bail. The judge was a personal friend of Albert Schumer’s, so he’ll go hard on the guy. My guess is Barney will sit in his cell until the trial. The case itself is pretty cut-and-dried, especially with the break-in to Nathan’s shed and his shovel at the second crime scene. Your testimony will help too, him threatening to bash your head in with it then trying to frame Nathan for the murder. You’ll still testify, right?”

“Yep. Absolutely.”

“Good.” Gus started out the door then stopped. “Oh, and about Barney’s shop, I heard his niece will be coming from Salem to take over the place.”

“Is that so?” Striker said, joining us. He gave me an uneasy glance.

“Well, I’m off.” Gus waved as she walked out the door. “You two have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Alone at last, Striker and I settled on the sofa with our mugs of tea and a plate of cookies. I still couldn’t seem to shake my niggling unease about Albert’s murder. “What about Albert’s letter? We searched the entire area but didn’t find it.”

“I know. We can look some more later,” he said around a bite of snickerdoodle. “If we’re lucky, it fell in the stream and is lost for good. Too many people want to get their wicked little hands on it.”

I shuddered and cuddled into his side. His arm came around my shoulders, warm and comforting. My gaze settled on the paperweight on the table. I half expected to see some ghastly vision of death or destruction, but all that shone back at me was my own reflection. Funny, but it was sort of disappointing after all the excitement of the last few days. Still, maybe it would be better if all those visions and clues in the glass globe had been nothing more than fantasies cooked up in my own imagination, as Gus would suggest. At least it would mean there was no new mystery to solve.

Pandora hopped up on the couch and nestled in between us. My worries about the letter melted away. Things felt good, right. The letter had blown away, probably stuck in a tree or decaying in the dirt by now. I was almost certain that Mystic Notch would remain as pleasant as it had always been for a long, long time.