Pumpkin Spice & Poltergeist (Maple Hollow #1)

She gave a long, exasperated sigh. “I’m bored. And do I have to remind you that I was the one who may or may not have been murdered?”

Lou picked up a pillow and punted it across the living room like a volleyball. Ichabod dashed after it and landed all four paws on top of it, which sent Lou into a fit of laughter.

“Fine,” I said. “You can come along on the investigation, but you cannot come to any more dates. Okay?”

“Alright,” Lou said, “but if you mess this date up, I don’t want to hear you whining about me hanging around for the next forty years.”

The cat merrily hopped back into Iris’s waiting lap and demanded tangible affection. Lou lay across the back of the couch and played with a loose lock of red hair at the nape of Iris’s neck.

Iris shivered and looked from Ichabod to me. “Lou’s sitting right beside me, isn’t she?”

“Yep.”

“Awesome.” Iris clenched her teeth and scooted closer to the armrest on her other side. “You better fall in love with this Harlow chick because your ex is quickly outstaying her welcome.”

14

HARLOW

The waitstaff at every café and diner I’d ever eaten at deserved an award and a thank-you note sealed with kitten kisses.

I was sure someone was branding the soles of my feet with a hot poker. My calluses had calluses. My legs felt like jelly.

I made a mental note to ask Jordyn if she had a potion that she was supplying to Willow to keep going day after day. Maybe I could get some too.

The doors had been closed for hours, but I was still finding tasks that needed to be finished before the next morning. I realized that Willow had phases through the day that she used for downtime to prep and clean, but by closing time, there were still heaps of things that had to be done.

Open six days a week. Willow was insane.

Exhausted and aching, I sat cross-legged on my bed with a stack of napkins and a bin of spoons, forks, and knives. I balanced a wet sponge on my knee and used it to close the paper rings that held the little cutlery burrito together.

I looked around my makeshift room. Willow had done a good job turning the space into something more charming than a stockroom. She’d hung moon-covered tapestries across the shelves of saltshakers and bottles of syrup, turning it into a statement wall. The double bed was plush and comfortable with an assortment of Halloween-themed throw pillows she’d clearly bought from the gift shop across the square. A little table sat beside it with a bronze lamp cast to look like a wolf howling at the moon.

The room was cozy, but more importantly, it was free. Maybe I could spruce it up with some knickknacks from around town. I didn’t have much from my travels. The one thing I had added was a carved whistle I’d gotten from what was supposed to have been my dream job. Looking at it now hanging on the back of the door, it felt like a lifetime ago.

Willow’s apartment upstairs was a one bed, one bath. Whoever had built it hadn’t bothered to add a full kitchen since the shop was directly below. But her bathroom had a clawfoot soaking tub, and I couldn’t wait to finish bundling silverware so I could fill it with piping-hot water for a long bath.

A tentative knock dashed away my vision of a bubble-filled soak. “Come in,” I called out.

Willow opened the door, wearing yoga pants, a tank top, and an open terrycloth robe. Her hair was up in a bun, and she’d clearly just washed her face, given the matching terrycloth headband that held her hair off her face.

She leaned against the doorjamb and looked around the room as if trying to find her words when her eyes landed on the tray of cutlery. “I can get to those in the morning.”

“It’s fine. I can finish them.” I continued wrapping up the parcels.

“Harlow,” my sister said, wandering over and perching at the end of my bed. “I know that what happened with Agnes and the mice were accidents. And I know that you understand that in this town, they were considered major incidents. Aside from them making the township newspaper, they could have really hurt the only thing keeping me afloat.”

“I know. I just?—”

“Luckily,” she continued, a warm, forgiving smile spread over her lips, “we also have a bunch of magic wielders who can help us fix whatever it is we messed up.”

I nodded, but the rock in my stomach sank further when I saw that her eyes still held something that felt like pity. “I feel like I’m a bad omen.” I dabbed the sponge along the paper ring. “Wherever I go, bad things follow.”

“You’re not. I know you’re not settled yet, but maybe if you stick around long enough, you’ll get the hang of this town.” Willow grabbed one of the throw pillows and hugged it to her chest. “You know, I had some serious calamities when I first moved here too.”

I couldn’t imagine my sister messing anything up, even when she was freshly twenty-one and right out of college.

“You nearly kill a vampire?” I asked, perking a brow at her.