“Items that belonged to a ghost in real life can be anointed with candle wax and used for communication. I worked here in ’95, when it was a used bookstore. I would sweep the floor at the end of the night, and that mirror was by the front counter so we could see if the customers were hiding something while at the register. I actually bespelled it to alert me if someone was shoplifting.”
“How would that work?” Taran asked.
“It would just sparkle a little. The frame is silver with little red crystals. I used to make them out of thrift store frames and mirrors, then sell them at the craft fairs. I only enchanted a few for friends.”
“How long did you work here?”
“About a year.”
“You were saying Carey was trying to help you,” Eilonwy urged, trying to get the ghost back on track.
“Yes, she was talking to me through the mirror. It took a little work, but she figured out how to make it into a spirit-scrying device—she’s a witch, too. Anyway, I told her my story, and she told me he had a store down the street. I was furious! That asshole killed me and tried to bind me to him, but I turned on him. He comes in here whenever a new business opens, and I always try to smack him in the head with my broom!”
“Why would he sell the store? Was he unable to banish you?” Taran asked.
“He didn’t own it, he was leasing.”
“Do you know who owned it? We heard that she went missing in ’94.”
“She was his first victim. I didn’t know it until I died, but I was the second. Carey thinks he does this every year, because there’s a list of women who disappeared on State Street, one each year around Halloween. The same day I died.”
“That sounds familiar,” Taran said.
Eilonwy felt her temper begin to rise. Madison was the only city she had ever lived in. She and her friends were afraid of the unknown person who was killing local and out-of-town college women. They called whoever it was the Trick-or-Treat Killer and the Samhain Snatcher. They were all fed up with the local police not taking the missing women seriously. They said the women either ran off or that these were unrelated kidnappings, just because bodies were never found.
“Haley, what is his full name?” Eilonwy asked.
“Dante Valentine,” she replied.
“Of Valentine’s Used and Rare Books,” Eilonwy said.
“Yes, have you been inside?”
“I have. The owner is tall, has long dark hair and dark eyes, right?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve been in that shop twice, and he tried to hit on me both times. He’s smarmy and smells like incense. I despise incense,” Eilonwy said.
“I loved that smell. It’s the first thing that attracted me to him. I went into the bookstore that was here, and he had a few witch items like candles, incense, and tarot cards. He was impressed with my knowledge and hired me as a clerk. I resisted him for a few months, but then he…Well, it doesn’t matter now. Can we get back to Carey?”
“Yes, sorry, please continue,” Eilonwy said.
“Okay, so Carey went over to do some reconnaissance, and she never came back. Then Dante showed up here and waited until he knew I was listening. He thanked me for sending her to him. I was so angry I smacked him with the broom and chased him out of the store. I haven’t heard from either of them since. I’m worried she’s dead.”
“Why didn’t you tell someone?” Taran asked.
“I did try, but every time I did, the store closed because people are scared of me.”
“When did she go over?” Eilonwy asked.
“What day is it now?”
“June 6, 2015.”
“I thought it had only been a month, but it’s been nearly four. Time is weird when you’re a ghost. She must be dead, or worse. Damn it! I’m so stupid, I never should have let her go!”
It was quiet for an awkward minute, only the radio crackling softly with her crying.
