Murder Deja Vued: A Witching Hour Ghost Hunters Mystery (Witching Hour Ghost Hunters Mysteries Book 3) by Kat McGee

Author:Kat McGee [McGee, Kat]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Towering Pines Publishing
Published: 2024-10-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

The Depot Station Apartments’ courtyard stretched before me, its wrought-iron benches and manicured flower beds a mockery of normalcy. The roses drooped closed for the night in the indoor shift of warmth through the heating system.

Bridget’s boots scuffed against the brick path while she paced. Her ponytail swung back and forth, matching her frazzled energy. “Mom’s gone!” Her voice broke. “The hospital staff searched everywhere.”

My stomach lurched.

Jocelyn, my ever-practical sister who color-coded her grocery lists and alphabetized her spice rack, had pulled a vanishing act while unconscious.

The situation had just rocketed from spooky to spine-tingling.

The courtyard door swung open. Royce strode through, his dark eyes wide. “Marna, we’ve got a problem. Jocelyn’s—”

“Missing.” My hand waved toward Bridget’s tear-streaked face. “We know. We got the memo.”

“No—” The words died on his lips as a figure stumbled into view behind him, the door whooshing shut in her wake. My mouth fell open.

“The music box.” The words slipped from her lips in a raspy whisper. “You have to find the music box. It’s the key to everything.”

My gaze snapped to Royce’s. The ghostly image of Harrison cradling that brass and wooden box in the video footage flashed through my mind. The universe rarely handed out coincidences in Death’s Door. They came gift-wrapped in supernatural wrapping paper with a bow of weird on top.

“Where exactly is it?” Royce’s voice carried that gentle tone usually reserved for spooked witnesses and jumpy ghosts.

Jocelyn’s face scrunched up, her perfectly plucked eyebrows drawing together. “The dreams... they’re fragments. Pieces that won’t fit together right.” Her fingers rubbed at her temples. “The picture’s right there, but it keeps slipping away.”

Her eyes flew open wide, panic flooding her features. “Lil!” The name burst from her throat. “She’s in danger!”

My stomach dropped through the floor while my heart decided to audition for a drum solo. My eyes squeezed shut while I reached for that familiar connection to my feline partner-in-crime. The warm buzz of Lil’s presence should have been right there, ready with a snarky comment about my terrible life choices.

Nothing.

The space where our connection lived gaped empty. My chest tightened.

“Our connection’s gone.” My voice wobbled traitorously. “The link between us has been severed.”

“The Emporium.” Jocelyn’s words rang through the courtyard. “Its power grows stronger, reaching beyond its walls.”

A cold draft whipped through the indoor courtyard. The decorative trees shuddered, their branches casting strange shadows across the brick path. My arms prickled with goosebumps.

Jocelyn tipped her head back and stared through the dome windows as dawn brought more falling snow. “Beware,” she croaked, “as the clock strikes thirteen.”

My hand raked through my hair while reality reorganized itself. “Perfect. My perfectly practical sister’s gone full psychic on us.” A humorless laugh bubbled up. “And now we’re racing against time.”

“Thirteen?” Royce’s eyebrows climbed toward his hairline. “That’s not possible.”

A snort escaped me. “Welcome to Death’s Door, where impossible comes with a side of ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’ and a complimentary serving of ‘what fresh paranormal nonsense is this?’”

“The toys remember.” Jocelyn’s knuckles bleached white around the crystal.

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