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“So a really good cook is basically like a witch who can cast spells,” Paige said. “That’s pretty cool.”

Cam laughed. “Something like that,” she said, snapping her attention back to the task at hand. “Okay, c’mon, let’s clear those platters and get dessert on.”

They made short work of piling up the buffet dishes to be rolled away and plating the miniature sweets, which even Cam had to say looked like little jewels.

Clink, clink, clink!

Roxy stood, tapping her fork against her glass to get everyone’s attention. Just like they always did, people obeyed, and the chattering soon came to a stop.

“I’m glad you could be here tonight for the very best holiday fete Silver Cove has ever had!” The crowd erupted in applause and a few hoots of approval. “And I would be remiss if I didn’t say a word of appreciation for the woman responsible for tonight’s meal. She’s a classically trained chef and a beloved daughter of Silver Cove. Please let’s give a round of applause for Cam Parker!”

Another louder cheer went up, and people turned to her, following Roxy’s outstretched hand identifying her presence at the back of the room.

It was one of those moments that would normally make her as uncomfortable as a blue crab dropped into a boiling pot. But instead of feeling like she wanted to sink directly through the old pine floor or dive underneath the buffet table and hide, Cam instead just felt proud. She smiled and offered a little wave, and then Roxy was off talking about upcoming town events, and soon, people were milling around, lining up for dessert and ordering one last drink.

Cam turned and practically planted her nose into Ian’s navy-blazered chest. Okay, now finding a nice, quiet spot to hide under a buffet table sounded pretty good. Being on the receiving end of the attention of all of Silver Cove was one thing, but having to meet his gaze was another thing entirely.

“Cam, I wanted to thank you for what you did for Paige this week,” he said, watching as Davis made a run for the dessert table. “It’s been good for her. In fact, I think she might have gone two whole straight days without rolling her eyes at me, and let me tell you that counts as a world record in the McCabe house.”

He continued. “Look, I don’t know what I did to upset you. Whatever it was, I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything, Ian.” Cam stopped him. “It’s just that—”

Before she could get her words out, Birdie and Marcus were practically on top of her with hugs and compliments.

“My deaahh,” Marcus proclaimed, “those brussels sprouts were divine! I thought I didn’t like those sad little vegetables, but I suppose it was because my deah departed mothaah always served them boiled within an inch of their lives. Yours were a revelaaaation!”

“Paige made the bacon vinaigrette for them,” Cam said, motioning to the teenager, who had just approached the group.

“Yeah, Cam taught me how,” Paige said. “Did you guys know that not all dressing comes from a bottle? Because that was, like, brand-new information to me.”

“It seems you have a budding talent,” Birdie said to Paige, enveloping her in a hug that the teenager looked only a little bit embarrassed to reciprocate. “Cam has told me what a huge help you were this week, and tonight was a smash.”

Cam caught Ian looking proudly at his daughter and felt a lump form in her throat.

Cam sent Paige home with her dad, telling her she could handle clean-up by herself. And she told Birdie not to wait up for her. All she would want to do was to sit, put her feet up, and have a glass of wine.

An hour and a half later, after loading the final stack of dishes into Martina’s massive dishwasher and giving the countertops a final wipe-down, Cam took off for Birdie’s. As she opened the door, she could sense that the house was quiet, but a strong odor met her at the threshold.

“Hello?” she called softly into the kitchen. She followed the scent, which had a burnt herbal note, into the living room. There she found Izzy, who was clutching what looked like a bundle of dried grass that was emitting a plume of smoke. She was waving it around the room and muttering to herself.

“Hey, Izzy,” Cam greeted her. “Um, what are you doing?”

“Oh hey,” she said, sweeping her arm theatrically. “Everyone else has gone to bed, but I’m just smudging the house for you. I had this sage overnighted from my healer in Ojai. Very potent. It’s supposed to clear any negative energy and spirits that are lingering in a space. I thought it would be good for you to get rid of that ghost. She seems to be a distraction to you, and I need you focused right now. Plus, I’m still super-pissed about my amethyst.”

Cam felt strangely proprietary. Ada was her ghost, and if she had wanted her gone, she would have taken care of it herself by throwing the cookbook away. Who was Izzy to barge in and decide she needed to go? Although the burning herbs would have no effect on stubborn Ada.

“Anyway, she needs to move on,” Izzy said blithely.

That only irritated Cam more. Ada had something important to do here in this… astral plane, or whatever it was. She just needed help finishing whatever her business was. She certainly didn’t need to be hurried along by some self-centered celebrity lifestyle guru.

Izzy finished her balletics and turned to Cam triumphantly. “There,” she said. “That should do it. Spirit gone!”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, another one of Izzy’s crystals jolted off the table and rolled across the floor toward the vent. Izzy ran over and grabbed it before it could drop in.

So much for your exorcism, Izzy Jones, Cam thought. She wished she could high-five Ada, not that Ada would even know how.

Cam slept late the next morning, far later than usual, and when she woke, she sat up and sniffed. This definitely wasn’t another ritual.