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WE DROP THE photos with Julie and head back to Max Overdrive with a bag full of cleaning supplies and paint thinner.

Kasabian and Death stay inside, having sort of elected themselves the new store staff. It’s too early for customers, but they’ve already opened. I get the feeling now that he’s healed, Death doesn’t sleep much, and Kasabian is trying to keep up. I give it until tomorrow before he collapses on a pillow of Bavarian creams and empty beer cans. I think Death is kind of fascinated by Kasabian and his mechanical body, a yappy sideshow attraction not quite dead or alive. Kasabian must be feeling better around Death. When Candy and I came down this morning, they were watching This Island Earth together. It’s not exactly Friday the 13th, but ­people do die.

Candy and I are still experimenting with the paint thinner, trying it on a ­couple of different spots, when Maria comes up the block. She waves when she sees us. Candy waves back.

“Hi, Candy. Hi, Stark,” she says in that halting “I don’t talk to live ­people that much” way she has.

“Morning,” says Candy.

I wipe paint thinner off my hands.

“Hi. If you’re looking for Kasabian, he’s inside with his friend from Narnia.”

She shakes her head tensely.

“That’s all right. I was looking for you.”

“Why’s that?”

“Dash is missing.”

“Dash is your ghost pal, right? The one you talk to through the mirror.”

The morning is warm, but she keeps her arms wrapped around herself like it’s ten below.

“Yes, that’s him. I haven’t been able to contact him in a ­couple of days.”

“Why are you coming to me with this? Aren’t there other witches who can help you track down a lost ghost?”

“That’s the problem,” she says. “We’ve been trying, but he’s just not there. I was hoping . . .” She trails off.

“What?”

­“People say you can go places. Hell. Heaven. The Tenebrae. I was hoping that maybe you could look for him for me.”

Candy and I exchange a look. I walk over to Maria.

“I’d like to help you, but I can’t shadow-­walk anymore, which means I’m stuck on Earth like everybody else.”

I don’t want to tell her that I might be able to go to the Tenebrae, a kind of wasted, lonely, hangout for souls not ready to move on to the afterlife, but I don’t want to. To go there, I’d have to perform the Metatron’s Cube Communion ritual. Slit my wrists and bleed out in a magic circle, letting my half-­dead ass drift to Tenebrae Station. It isn’t as much fun as a naked brunch with Candy, but back when I had acce

ss to the Room of Thirteen Doors I was always sure I could get back and into my body. Without the Room, I’m afraid I could get stuck in the Tenebrae with a bunch of manic-­depressive spooks forever.

“Oh,” she says. “I didn’t know.”

“Whatever rumors you’ve heard, they’re probably wrong or out-­of-­date.”

Candy comes over.

“Isn’t there something else we can do?”

No, I want to tell her, but Maria looks too miserable to hear it.

“I can pay,” Maria says. “I mean, I don’t have money, but I’ll give you movies. Your next three movies, four movies are free.”

“Listen, I have another job these days and I’m working on a case right now.”

Maria furrows her brows like she doesn’t believe me.