Page 3 of The Little Shop of Curiosities, The Music Box Part 2

I blow out a frustrated breath. She has a point, but I have no idea how much to tell her.

Fuck. I wish Danny was here.

She starts again. “You knew Viv was already dead when you called me, didn’t you?”

I nod.

“How?”

“There really is no easy way to say this.”

She folds her arms across her chest and stares at me. “Try.”

I sigh. “A ghost told me.” I decide to take one for the team and omit the part about Tristan being able to see the dead and that Dusty is his spirit guide in training. Better she thinks I’m crazy than Tristan and Danny.

Maddie blinks slowly. “A. Ghost. Told. You.”

I nod and tuck my hands in my pockets. “Danny did call me to let me know that he and Tris were worried when they couldn’t get hold of Viv.”

“Uh-huh.” She lifts her hand and makes a rolling motion. “Skip ahead to the part about seeing ghosts, Haley Joel Osment.”

“I had a near death experience a year or so ago.” I try to make my words as vague as possible. “They say it can alter your perception sometimes. When I woke up in the hospital, I could see and hear spirits.”

She stares at me silently.

“I know it sounds insane, but this bookshop is usually filled with ghosts, and one of them came to find me to tell me about Viv.”

“Usually?”

“What?”

“You said usually filled with ghosts. That would imply it’s not now.”

Well, damn. I can see why her and Danny make such good partners.

I look around the shop and shake my head, surprised that not only can’t I see them, I can’t even sense their presence. “There aren’t any of them here now. Which is weird, come to think of it.”

She glances at Viv once more. “I’d say weird is relative right now.”

“I know it’s a lot to take in, but it’s the truth.”

“Let’s just say I believe you.” She holds up her hand when I open my mouth to speak again. “I’m not saying I do. Just…hypothetically, if there were”—she closes her eyes as if uttering the next word pains her—“ghosts filling the shop, then they must’ve seen who did this to Viv.”

I shake my head. “Like I said, none of them are around, so I can’t ask.”

“Convenient.”

“Nothing about this is convenient.”

I frown and rub my hand over my face, wishing desperately I was back in Harrison’s bed, all wrapped around him and breathing in the scent of his warm skin rather than stuck at a crime scene, trying to convince Danny’s partner that the afterlife is real.

Before either of us can say another word, the front door opens and we both turn as a middle-aged man in a suit enters, followed by police officers and crime scene techs.

Maddie frowns. “Who are you?”

“Detective Wilkes,” the man replies with a smirk.

“No that’s me.” She crosses her arms. “Where’s Detective Mckinnon?”