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Bettina was still leaking tears when Theodosia got there.

“I’m sorry about this,” Theodosia said to Isabelle Franklin. “Bettina’s had to face some soul-crushing problems lately.”

Isabelle nodded. “She’s been telling me all about it. Her bridesmaid getting killed, her fiancé badly injured…I’d say it’s enough to drive anyone to distraction.”

Isabelle Franklin was a small woman, mid-thirties, with shoulder-length blond hair that she wore held back with her trademark preppy velvet headband. Today she had on a snappy black blazer, a white blouse with a pussycat bow, black slacks, and black patent leather shoes with kitten heels. She was the manager at the Dove Cote Inn and a kind of jack-of-all-trades, handling room reservations, dining, and special events.

“You’re very understanding,” Theodosia said to Isabelle. Then she turned her gaze on Bettina, who was sitting in a pink leather club chair, looking sad and miserable. “Bettina,” she said.

“No real harm was done,” Isabelle assured Theodosia. “Bettina was only in there for ten seconds or so. Gary, our head waiter, came and got me immediately. Then I…pulled her out.”

“I’m sorry,” Bettina blubbered as she blotted her eyes with a tissue. “I didn’t think about what I was gonna do…well, I actually did think about it. Maybe too much. And then I acted impulsively.”

Theodosia touched a hand to Bettina’s shoulder and said, “If it makes you feel any better, I do that all the time.” Which caused Bettina to stutter out a quick laugh, then start crying all over again.

“S-s-sorry,” Bettina said. “I know it was stupid.”

“We’ll get out of your hair now,” Theodosia said to Isabelle. “And thank you again for being so understanding.”

“Don’t mention it,” Isabelle said. “And say hi to Drayton for me, will you? Tell him I’m going to stop by soon and pick up some of his famous cranberry-apple blend.”

“I will.”

Theodosia got Bettina up and onto her feet and led her into the lobby of the Dove Cote Inn. Here was an arrangement of cozy armchairs and sofas done in cream-colored leather and accented with plump pink and green velvet pillows. The Chinese carpet underfoot was an elegant shade of persimmon, brass lamps sparkled on side tables, and a fire crackled in the yellow-brick fireplace. At the front desk, a couple was checking in.

“C’mon, let’s sit over here.” Theodosia led Bettina to a small love seat that was tucked discreetly behind a potted palm tree. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“You’re not mad at me?” Bettina said.

Theodosia smiled at her. “Should I be?”

“You’re too sweet,” Bettina said.

“I totally love the flattery, but right now we need to be absolutely straight with each other. Can you do that?”

“I guess.”

“So tell me, what possessed you to come storming over here and accost Martin Hunt?”

“Because I started thinking about all the horrible, mean things Hunt said about Jamie!” Bettina cried. “And how Hunt threatened to retaliate against Jamie because he lost all that money—even though it wasn’t Jamie’s fault at all. Well, not entirely.”

“And then?”

Bettina hunched her shoulders. “Then I got ragin’-hot mad and I called Hunt and Peck and the people at the store told me Hunt was over here at a business luncheon. And then I just sort of lost it. My brain flashed code red and I rushed over here.”

“What were you going to do?”

“I didn’t bring a weapon if that’s what you’re asking,” Bettina said.

“That’s not what I was asking.”

“I guess I was going to tell Hunt off…embarrass him to death. And then I hoped that…”

“You hoped he’d confess?” Theodosia asked. “Admit to you that he rigged the greenhouse?”

“Yes!”

“I don’t think it works that way in real life.”

Bettina pulled a tissue from her purse, wiped at her nose, and said, “No?”

“You were imagining a movie scenario,” Theodosia said.

“But Martin Hunt is guilty, I know he is!”

“We don’t know that at all. He’s only one of several suspects,” Theodosia said.

“Really?” Bettina drew a deep breath and then released it in a kind of shudder. “Jeez, I’m sorry. Does this mean you’re going to stop investigating?”

“Not if I can help it. You do want me to keep going, don’t you?”

“More than ever!” Bettina said.

Theodosia looked at her watch and felt her heart lurch. Time was slipping away. She stood up and said, “Do you need a ride somewhere?”

“I think I’d rather walk,” Bettina said.

“Good. Give you a chance to cool off before your visit this afternoon with the psychic.”

* * *

Theodosia rushed back to the Indigo Tea Shop and surveyed the Halloween special effects. All the morning tea guests had left, tables had been set, candles lit, chairs and tables squished together, and the overhead lighting dimmed.

“Looks good,” Theodosia said to Drayton. “Downright spooky.”

“Haley went ahead and put sugar cameos at each place setting,” Drayton said. “They’re meant as favors, right?”

“Right.” Theodosia had sourced the candies from a wholesaler in Salem, Massachusetts. They were round sugar cameos, the size of an old-fashioned silver dollar, but instead of a cameo portrait of a lovely lady, they were skeletons in Victorian costumes.

Drayton lifted a single eyebrow. “Did you manage to rein in Bettina before she embarrassed herself?”

“By the time I got there, Bettina was leaking tears and apologizing to Isabelle. The poor girl got a notion in her head that Martin Hunt was the killer, so she decided to accost him.”

“Maybe it wasn’t such a silly notion. Did you talk to Hunt when you were there?”

“I didn’t talk to him, but I can guarantee you he’s still on my suspect list. No, all I did was try to impress upon Bettina that accosting someone, getting right up in their face, is not the way to gather evidence or wring out a confession.”

“I hope she took your cautionary words to heart.”

“We’ll have to wait and see.” Theodosia looked around the tea room again and murmured, “Something’s missing.” Then she touched the top of her head, smiled, and said, “I almost forgot my witch’s hat!”

* * *

That’s how they greeted their guests: Theodosia and Haley wearing tall, peaky witches’ hats, Drayton in a black Victorian top hat. And wouldn’t you know it, some of their guests arrived wearing costumes. There was a Venetian lady, three witches (one with blacked-out teeth!), two fairy princesses, a cowgirl, and a woman wearing head-to-toe leopard print.

With the extra table—and the extra few guests—it was a tight squeeze, but Theodosia finally got everyone situated. After much oohing and aahing over the decorations, Theodosia grabbed a wicker broom, stepped to the center of the room, and tapped the tip of the handle against the floor.

“Welcome to our first-ever Victorian Halloween Tea,” Theodosia began. “As many of you probably know, the Victorian era began in 1837 and ran to 1901. This was an exciting time in England when many of the Victorians openly embraced séances, psychics, tarot cards, and crystal balls and even believed in ghost sightings. It was, in a sense, a Victorian death culture, since they also engaged in elaborate funerals, followed strict mourning rules, created postmortem portraits, and built opulent tombs and cemeteries.

“To take you back in time and give you a sense of how immersed the Victorians were in communing with the spirits, I’d like to introduce Madame Aurora, our visiting psychic.” She waved a hand in her direction. “Madame Aurora?”

Madame Aurora stood up to acknowledge the applause, gave a friendly wave, and bobbed her turbaned head.

“Please feel free to wander over and converse with Madame Aurora anytime you want, and be sure to have your tarot cards read,” Theodosia said. “And now, I’m sure you’d all like to hear about our Victorian Halloween menu. For starters, you have your choice of cranberry scones with clotted cream or English crumpets with rose petal jam. Your second course will be a bowl of pureed pumpkin soup with a side of deviled eggs. And thanks to our very own Earl of Sandwich over there”—Theodosia gestured at Drayton—“we’ll be serving Hampshire chicken salad on crostini and sliced apple and cheddar cheese on sourdough bread. And of course there’s tea. Drayton, if you would?”

Drayton removed his top hat and bowed. “I have three special teas for your sipping enjoyment,” he said. “One is a salty caramel pumpkin black tea from Simpson and Vail, the second is a bewitching house brew that I call Haunted Hibiscus. This one’s a blend of white tea and hibiscus with a bit of lemon thrown in. And my third brew is called Ghostly Green, it’s a Japanese green tea flavored with bits of orange and papaya.”

First courses were served then and teacups filled. Once everyone was nibbling and sipping, Theodosia made the rounds, talking to her guests, encouraging them to visit Madame Aurora’s table. And by the time the tea sandwiches had come out, the guests had started to do exactly that. More than a few wandered over to Madame Aurora for private conversations and tarot card readings.

One of the guests, who was dressed as a witch herself, turned in her seat to speak with Theodosia. “I was just wondering,” she said. “Do you believe in tarot card reading?”

“I believe that it’s a fun thing to experiment with,” Theodosia said. “But do I believe that it can predict the future—or put me in touch with my dead grandmother? Then, no, I don’t think that’s going to happen. But really, you should have a go at it yourself. Talk to Madame Aurora, see what the cards might indicate for you. It could be fun.”

When it was time for dessert, Theodosia once again tapped her broom on the floor, bringing lunchtime conversation down to a low buzz. “I realize I haven’t warned you about dessert,” she said.

Now there was a smattering of applause. The regulars all knew that Haley was an excellent pastry chef.

“To satisfy your sweet tooth, we’ll be serving Victorian-style petits fours as well as generous slices of devil’s food cake,” Theodosia told them.

“And more tea,” Drayton said from the counter. “Lots more tea for whoever wants it.”

A steady stream of guests continued to find their way to Madame Aurora’s table, while other guests wandered around the tea room, shopping Theodosia’s well-stocked highboys for tea towels, trivets, jars of honey, tins of tea, and her proprietary T-Bath products.

“They’re practically clearing our shelves,” Theodosia confided to Drayton. “Which means I’d better get my Christmas orders in fast.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Drayton said as he sped off, clutching a teapot in each hand.

* * *

Bettina and Delaine arrived just as the luncheon had worn down and the last guests were leaving.

“Perfect timing,” Theodosia said as she greeted them at the door.

“Is it really?” Delaine said as the few remaining guests slipped past her. “Because I for one have been busy as the proverbial one-armed paperhanger. My shipment of cruise clothes arrived this morning, and I’m frantic to get everything unpacked, steamed, and onto the racks. My customers need to plan their wardrobes. They surely can’t be expected to show up in St. Martens or St. Lucia wearing just any old skirt and T-shirt.”

“I think your assistant, Janine, can manage just fine,” Bettina said.

“We’ll see,” Delaine said. She reached into her bag, pulled out a small bottle of perfume, and proceeded to spritz herself.

“Are you layering scents again?” Bettina asked.

Delaine shook her head. “Layering is out, now zoning is in.”

Theodosia decided to ignore Delaine and focus on Bettina. “Are you feeling any better?” Theodosia asked.

“I feel silly, is what I feel,” Bettina admitted with a rueful smile. “That was just plain dumb of me, to go rushing over to the Dove Cote Inn like that. I let my anger get the best of me.”

“There, there,” Delaine said. “Never apologize for your emotions. They’re yours to own.”

“That’s very deep,” Bettina said. “Who said that?”

Delaine looked puzzled. “I just did.”

“Oh, I thought maybe you were quoting the Dalai Lama or somebody famous,” Bettina said.

“You don’t think I’m quotable?” Delaine said in a sharp tone.

“We know you are,” Theodosia said. No debate there.

Delaine was about to say something else when Sabrina came flying through the front door.

“Is everyone here? You haven’t started without me, have you?” Sabrina asked in a rush.

“You’re right on time,” Theodosia said. “We were just about to start.” She led everyone over to Madame Aurora’s table, where candles flickered all around her, then sat them down and made introductions.

“And you’re trying to make contact with a dear departed spirit?” Madame Aurora asked in a gentle tone. Theodosia had briefed her earlier about Celeste’s murder, so she pretty much knew what to expect.

“ Departed sounds like Celeste hopped a plane to Miami,” Delaine said. “When in actuality the poor girl is dead.” Then she looked around the tea shop and gave a mock shiver. “Why does this place have to look so darn spooky ? With the lights dimmed and cobwebs draped everywhere, I feel like I’m trapped in a haunted house. And this weird music…”

“It’s Halloween,” Bettina said. “Get over it.”

“I think it sets a perfect mood,” Sabrina said. “Kind of sad and soulful.”

Delaine folded her hands in her lap. “Whatever.”

“Perhaps we could begin with some energy cleansing,” Madame Aurora suggested. She made a point of looking directly at Delaine.

“Why are you staring at me?” Delaine cried. “My energy is squeaky-clean.”

Madame Aurora dropped her gaze to her stack of tarot cards with a What did I do to deserve this? look. Then she said, in a soft voice, “Tell me what answers you’ve come to seek.”

“Best-case scenario,” Sabrina said, “would be finding out who killed my sister, Celeste.”

“Because we know for sure it wasn’t an accident,” Bettina added.

Theodosia could feel the energy coming off Sabrina and Bettina, and it felt like despair without much hope. Though she wasn’t a believer in psychic readings or tarot cards, she did believe there was something more out there. Call it an afterlife, heaven, or just some kind of great continuum; it felt as if there had to be some otherworldly realm where good souls went once they’d left their earthly bonds.

Madame Aurora shuffled her tarot cards, then laid them out in the pattern of a cross. Turning one card over slowly, she revealed the Tower card. “This card indicates the past, in this case a loss or painful process.”

“Yes!” Bettina said. “That’s it exactly. We’ve lost our dear, dear Celeste.” She gazed at Madame Aurora with anxious eyes. “What else do you see in the cards?”

Madame Aurora turned over a second card. “This indicates the future,” she said.

“The Six of Wands card?” Delaine said. “What’s that weird imagery supposed to mean?”

“It’s an indication of destiny and reaching a significant goal,” Madame Aurora said. “It means energy aligning with spirit guides and angels.”

“Oh my gosh,” Sabrina said. “That feels so right on!”

“But where is Celeste now?” Bettina asked. “Is there any way to know?”

Madame Aurora turned over a third card to reveal the Wheel of Fortune card. “This card means your dear departed is taking a step into the great unknown. That she is between worlds right now.”

“That doesn’t sound like a very comfortable situation,” Delaine said.

“Many souls take a good deal of time to find their way,” Madame Aurora murmured.

“If you say so,” Delaine said.

“But will her killer be brought to justice?” Sabrina asked with a worried look. “That’s what’s really on our minds.”

Madame Aurora turned over the card at the very top of the cross. It was the Hanged Man card.

“That looks awful,” Delaine cried, just as all the lights in the tea shop winked out.

“Help!” Bettina cried. “What just happened?”

“This is too scary for words!” Delaine stuttered out.

“It’s simply a blown fuse,” Drayton called out in a loud but calming voice.

“Really?” Theodosia said. “Now we’ve got a blown fuse?”

“Give me thirty seconds and I’ll have it fixed,” Drayton promised. He grabbed a flashlight from under the counter, snapped it on, and headed for the fuse box in the back of the shop.

They all sat there in the dark for thirty seconds, then forty seconds, then a full minute, feeling more and more uncomfortable. And just when Delaine stood up and cried, “I need to get out of here!” the lights came back on.

“Everybody okay?” Drayton called from the back hallway.

“We’re good,” Theodosia said.

“That remains to be seen,” Delaine said. Then she sat down and turned her focus back to the Hanged Man card. “What did you say this indicates?”

“The Hanged Man doesn’t necessarily mean danger or death,” Madame Aurora said. “It only indicates that an answer still hangs in the balance.”

“So we don’t really know anything about Celeste,” Bettina sighed.

“Here I was hoping the cards would help point to the killer,” Sabrina said, sounding disappointed. “Reveal some sort of clue.”

Madame Aurora gently waved her hands above the cards, as if to intuit a message from them. Then, with eyebrows raised, said, “This is a fairly interesting turn of events.”

“What is?” asked Delaine.

“I’m getting a message that someone in this room knows the killer,” Madame Aurora said. At which point everyone turned to look at Theodosia.

“Me?” Theodosia squeaked. This was an unexpected twist. “Trust me when I say I don’t know the identity of the killer.”

“But it’s possible you may have exchanged words with this person,” Madame Aurora said. “Which means you need to take great care, because this person is hiding a dangerously dark nature.”

“Wow,” Bettina said. “Theo, you must be hot on the trail.”

“If I am, I’m not aware of it,” Theodosia said.

“Be patient,” Madame Aurora counseled. “Remain persistent in your investigation.”

“I’m getting chills,” Delaine said. “This sounds like…good news?”

“I’ll say,” Bettina said.

Everyone seemed to relax then and sit back in their chairs to ponder Madame Aurora’s words. Turned out she wasn’t finished. Staring directly at Sabrina, the psychic reached out and grasped the girl’s right hand.

“You also figure in the cards,” Madame Aurora said. “Because of your close, personal loss.”

Tears sparkled in Sabrina’s eyes. “My dear sister,” she choked out.

“But this loss has led to something extremely beneficial,” Madame Aurora continued.

Sabrina looked completely befuddled. “I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “No. I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“Finances,” said Madame Aurora.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Sabrina murmured.

This time the medium was almost defiant. “No, no, I can feel it, the vibrations are quite distinct.” She picked up her deck, dealt two more cards, and then a final card. It was the Nine of Cups. “You see? This tells me you are about to profit from a great tragedy.”

Sabrina’s eyes widened in surprise, her shoulders tensed, and she stood up abruptly, practically knocking her chair over backward. “This isn’t working for me,” she gasped. “I…I don’t believe a word of what this woman is saying.”

Delaine, green eyes glittering, turned to stare at Sabrina and said, “Why not?”