Sure enough, I’d just reached the back door of my house when Pandora caught up with me. I let us into the kitchen, put the cookies on the counter, then secured the door behind us before setting out plates and silverware and napkins. Striker would be here any minute, and my leg was killing me after the walk over to Elspeth’s.

As I rummaged in the drawer for the bottle of aspirin, Pandora hopped up on the counter.

“Hey, get off there.”

She knew better than to get on the counters and was usually pretty good about it, but if there was one thing I’d learned about Pandora, it was that she disliked being yelled at. She stubbornly ignored me, stuck her paw out, and batted at a little bag. The dandelion tea that Pepper had given me.

Smack, smack.

The tea bag fell on the floor. Pandora looked right at me and meowed as if to say, “I’ll hop up on anything I please,” then she jumped down to the floor, twitching her tail as she sauntered off to the living room.

I’d forgotten Pepper had given me the tea. She’d said it might help with my leg. Turned out Pandora had actually done me a favor.

I made myself a cup of the tea and took an aspirin. The tea wasn’t too bad. I’d expected it to be bitter—like the time I’d licked the dandelion milk off my fingers after plucking the yellow flowers off the stems as a kid—but it wasn’t. It was kind of earthy and not too unpleasant.

I snagged a snickerdoodle from the cookie box, took my stoneware mug of tea into the living room, and settled on the sofa to munch the cookie and check the emails on my phone while I waited for my dinner. I’d requested burgers from the diner in town if Striker didn’t have a preference. They were the best I’d ever had—thick and juicy and doused in cheese and ketchup and mustard—along with the amazing fries that came with them. My stomach rumbled in anticipation.

Pandora settled on the coffee table in front of me and began batting her paw against the glass globe paperweight Elspeth had given me as a gift shortly after I’d moved back to Mystic Notch. I set my phone aside and glanced at the cat over the rim of my cup. “Don’t break that. Elspeth gave it to me.”

The cat meowed loudly and stared at me with her bright-emerald gaze that made me think she could see right into my soul. I sat forward to pet her head then noticed a strange glow emanating from the center of the globe. Weird. Sure, I’d seen the orb catch the sunlight sometimes and work like a prism, sending a rainbow of colors over the walls of the room, but it was night now. I frowned, leaning closer to peer through the glass, noticing more detail now—leaves, dirt, a sort of swirly, misty smoke billowing, and—oh no!

“Albert?” I whispered, my eyes wide.

Pandora meowed loudly.

The ghostly form inside the globe shimmered, quivered slightly, seemed to beckon me closer again…

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Pounding on the kitchen door jarred me from my trance. Feeling slightly disoriented, I shook my head to clear it and peered out the window into the driveway. Striker. I glanced back over at the coffee table, but the globe was back to normal. Had I imagined seeing Albert Schumer’s ghost in there?

“Hey, Chance,” Striker said as I let him inside. He’d taken to calling me by my last name when we first met. He said it was appropriate since I took a lot of chances. He kissed my cheek then held up the two grease-stained paper bags with a grin. “I come bearing burgers.”

“Fantastic! I’m starving.”

He peered into the box of cookies on the counter. “Elspeth?”

“Fresh baked today.”

I led him over to where I had plates and napkins set up at the vintage kitchen table, and we dug into our food. “How was your day? Anything exciting happening in Dixford Pass?”

“Nah,” Striker said around a bite of burger. He wiped a glob of mustard from his chin before continuing. “Same old, same old. Hear your sister Gus has her hands full, though, with what happened to Albert.”

“Yeah.” I gave another look back at the globe to be sure the ghost wasn’t lingering around. Pandora took the opportunity to hop up on Striker’s lap and try to get at his fries, but I shooed her away before she could nab one. She glared before she jumped down and trotted off toward the stairs like she owned the place.

Striker chuckled. “Best check your pillow tonight for hair balls.”

“No kidding.” I took another bite of food, savoring the charbroiled goodness of the meat while trying to shake my unease about Albert.

What if he decided to get over his shyness and show up here in my house while Striker was about? I wanted to talk to the ghost but not at the expense of my budding relationship with Striker. It’s hard enough to find suitable single men to date when you’re pushing fifty, let alone in such a tiny town like Mystic Notch. Plus, I was kind of stuck on Striker. I didn’t want to send him running.

Striker knew nothing about my special “gift,” and I intended to keep it that way forever, if possible. Still, being in law enforcement gave him access to certain information I wasn’t privy to, nor could I ask Gus. I decided to pry just a bit to see what I could find out. “So, have you talked to Gus about her new case?”

“About Albert, you mean?” He devoured his last bite of burger. “No. What I’ve heard is probably what everyone knows from the local scuttlebutt or whatever. Your sister only calls me for help if it’s a murder, anyway. And from what I’ve heard, Albert just slipped and fell.”

“Right.” I nibbled on another fry, trying to play off my curiosity as boredom. “Well, it was interesting while it lasted.”

“Yeah.”

I finished my burger, and Striker started cleaning up the debris while I worked on the last of my fries. That was another thing I liked about him—not only did he bring the food, but he cleaned it up too.

“Want to watch that new movie on cable?” he asked.

“Uh, sure. Be right there.” I finished the last of my fries, my mind still whirling with what I’d seen in that glass globe. Albert wouldn’t have tried to contact me if there wasn’t something wrong with his death, something unfinished or something that needed to be set right.

Then again, I wasn’t exactly sure that swirling apparition was Albert. So far, no ghosts had tried to contact me through the paperweight. It was probably just an optical illusion. I didn’t know what kind of glass that thing was made out of, but this wasn’t the first time it had reflected something strange.

My mind wandered to the missing letter. I couldn’t shake the feeling that the letter had something to do with Albert’s death. And where was the letter now? Did Ruthie mail it? Did it blow away in the wind? Was Grace wrong about it? Or did someone take it?

My thoughts continued to whirl as I settled in beside Striker on the sofa, his arm warm around my shoulders. He passed me a cookie as I cuddled into his side. Tomorrow, I’d look into it further. Tonight, I’d enjoy my movie and my company.