Page 57 of Witch and Tell

“We’ll help you, won’t we, Ian?” Lalena said.

“What can we do?” Ian said.

“Someone killed Tyrone,” I said. “Meanwhile, the sheriff’s office is focused on finding evidence to support their theory that I strangled Tyrone with a zip tie.” The thought nauseated me, and I flattened a palm to my stomach. “It’s up to me to find the real murderer. If it had to do with his business dealings in Baltimore, you’re my only hope.”

He wheeled back a few inches. “I’ve told you everything I know.”

“Could Josie be right and there’s someone else here from your old gang?” Lalena asked Ian.

“It’s all we have to go on.”

“Why would they come out here?” Ian said.

“Why did Tyrone come out here?” I countered.

“To escape someone or something,” Lalena said.

“Exactly,” I said. “Maybe he brought a colleague.”

“There’s no one new in town who’s not part of the construction operation,” Ian pointed out. “No one I’ve seen, anyway.”

This was true. Wilfred was small enough that we made a note when a new UPS driver stopped by.

“Except the woman at the retreat center. Lise,” La lena said.

“She’s okay,” I said quickly. “And Tyrone is dead, so you’re safe from him. Would you be willing to go to the Empress and see if you recognize anyone else from Baltimore? It’s a thin lead, but it’s all I have to go on.”

Ian looked into his lap.

“If you’re right,” I added, “you won’t see anyone you know. It’s perfectly safe.”

Now Ian met my gaze. “If I’m not right? I don’t want to run into anyone from my old life. Even if it’s not Byron, it’s a world I don’t want to stir up again.”

I understood Ian’s hesitation. But what else could I do? It wouldn’t be long before the sheriff’s office would catch up with me, and I had no idea what other tricks Beata might have up her sleeve.

I drew an audible breath. “If you see one of them, we might have found a murderer.”

We were silent. Ian fidgeted with the arm of his wheelchair; I held Sailor in my lap; Lalena paced the living room. I was helpless unless Ian agreed to check out the construction site.

Finally, Lalena took charge. “This is what we’ll do. Ian, you’ll go to the Empress and pretend you want to talk to Orson about books in the new brewpub. It would be nice to have a shelf of novels customers could read while they kick back with a beer.”

“Books on parapsychology?” I asked. I imagined customers sampling IPAs while they learned about Victorian ghost photography.

“He can find other books,” she said. “Josie, you’ll stay here. Ian can tell us if he sees anyone he knows.”

“I need to go, too.” Whoever Ian recognized, I wanted to see firsthand. If Aunt Beata had anything to do with it, maybe I’d sense her energy. Forewarned was forearmed.

Lalena shook her head. “No. It’s too risky. In exactly two seconds, someone will report you to the sheriff’s office.”

“I’ve got to go along,” I said. “This is my mess to sort out, not yours.”

The tension was high among us, except for Sailor, who panted at Lalena’s feet with a rubber hot dog in his mouth.

Lalena caved first. “Okay, but you’re going in disguise.” She smiled, slowly, until she nearly glowed. “Hang on. I’ll be back in a minute.” With Sailor at her feet, she crossed the lane to her home.

I took advantage of the few minutes alone with Ian. “What are you not telling me?”

“You know everything I know,” he said.