I turned to ask where we should start, and was struck by a sudden thought. "You can understand me, can't you? Do you need me to speak slower or louder…?"

A soft snort and shake of his head. The movement was awkward, as if he wasn't accustomed to "human" communication in wolf form. How did they communicate? Did they understand barks? Did some canine language interpreter click on when they changed form?

"So I guess we should do this systematically, one bed at a time, starting-" I looked up to see his tail disappearing into the shadows. "Or I can just follow you."

FOR THE NEXT HOUR, Jeremy sniffed gardens, trying to find the unmistakable scent of a decaying corpse. Harder than it sounds because most of the beds were raised within retaining walls, so he had to hop up or-in a few cases-take a running leap.

He stayed at the edge of the gardens and leaned in to get closer to the center, ducking around bushes, picking his way past plants. I erased paw prints as we went.

We made it through about half of the garden when I noticed Tansy and Gabrielle watching.

"Is this about those poor trapped children?" Gabrielle asked as I waved them over.

I nodded. "We're hoping to find a body, so we can…" I considered how best to explain it. "Find the people responsible and figure out what they did so I can free the spirits. He-" I waved at Jeremy. "The, uh, dog is specially trained for that sort of thing."

"A cadaver dog."

"Right. But not, you know, officially or anything. Just a friend of a friend knew someone who trained them and let me borrow this one."

"Shouldn't he be on a lead?" Tansy asked.

"This one works better off-leash. He's very well trained."

"Huh. Well, it looks like he may have found something."

I leaned past Tansy to see Jeremy gingerly raking back the dirt with his claws. He took another sniff, caught a noseful of dirt and sneezed. Then he resumed his careful digging.

A smell wafted up, strong enough for me to recognize. The stink of a rotting corpse. Jeremy lowered his muzzle into the hole and flipped something out. Even before I got close, I could see tiny stick-like bones and needlelike teeth. A mole or large mouse.

"Eww," Tansy said. "You'd better grab that, before he eats it."

I swallowed a laugh. "I made sure he was well fed before we started."

Jeremy looked at me, as if figuring out what we were talking about. He rolled the tiny corpse back into the hole, this time with his paw.

When he started covering it, I hurried forward. "I'll get that. You just keep- I mean, go, boy. Work. Sniff."

Jeremy rolled his dark eyes, leapt from the garden and headed toward the next one as I refilled his hole.

"Here comes Pete," Tansy said. "Wonder why he left his post? Uh-oh, he looks worried."

A gray-haired man hurried down the path, his broad face gathered in concern.

"Where is he?" Gabrielle asked.

"Inside the house. Upstairs I think." Tansy looked at me. "Some of us took up posts, keeping an eye out. This looked like something you wouldn't want to be found doing, so we were keeping watch."

"Oh? That's very thoughtful. Thank you."

"Someone's watching from upstairs," the portly man-Pete-said as he drew up beside us. "The English chap. He's been looking out the window."

"Grady? Damn! Jer-uh-boy?" I called softly. "Stay. Okay? Stay."

Jeremy peeked from the garden a few yards down and dipped his muzzle, telling me he understood. I stepped back farther into the shadows and looked up at the house. Grady's curtains were parted, a dim glow silhouetting his figure.

"Thanks for letting me know," I whispered to the ghost.

"I don't think he saw-" He stopped, looking up. "Oh, he's gone. False alarm. I'll head back."

"Wait," I said. "Your name's Pete?"

"Peter Feeney, miss. Used to work a few blocks away. Chauffeur, gardener, butler…" He smiled. "Whatever they needed."

"And what do you need? From me, I mean," I blurted. Alarm bells sounded in my head. But I steeled myself and pushed on. "I mean, is there anything I can do for you? I'm pretty limited. I can't find your killer or anything like that."

Peter smiled, showing small, even teeth. "My killer was me, miss. Me and my bad habits. Now, I'd love to bring them to justice, the folks who told me all those cigarettes weren't bad for my health, but I know you can't do that." He chewed his lip, the urge to be polite warring with the fear that he'd never get another chance to speak to a necromancer. "There is something, but I know you're really busy…"

"Go ahead."

"It's not urgent, but maybe when you're all done, if you have the time… I'd like to find my son."

"Has he… passed over?"

"Oh, no. At least, I hope not. We had a falling out a few years before I died. Silly thing. They always are, aren't they? But then I passed and when I went to his old apartment to check on him, he'd moved out. I don't want to make contact-just to see him. Finding him is probably as simple as looking through an L.A. phone book or dialing 411 but…" A wry smile. "I can't do that."

"No, of course not. But I will, as soon as I get a chance-"

The whoosh of the screen door sliding open sounded. I froze. Peter motioned for me to stay still and the ghosts fanned out, heading for the back of the house.

"I saw it," Grady hissed, his voice traveling through the still night air.

"A dog," Claudia said.

"Not a dog!" Grady roared before Claudia shushed him. "A demonic beast. A huge black wolf with glowing eyes and fangs as big as your fingers."

Jeremy peeked from a bush, ears swiveled, head tilted, as if to say, "Who, me?"

"It was a dog," Claudia said, her tone wavering between exasperation and frustration. "A large black dog. Yes, his eyes probably seemed to glow-reflected in the moonlight-but it was a dog. You've been under a lot of strain-"

"Bloody hell, woman. Something is going on here, and if you start nattering at me about jet lag and a change in diet-"

"Where's this wolf, Bradford?"

"I don't know. Out there. Somewhere."

"Are you going to take a look?"

"For a wild beast? I'm not mad, woman."

"Do you want me to take a look?"

"Of course not. Just-" A sigh. "Maybe it was a dog."

"Um-hmm."

The scrape of shoes on patio stones. Then the whir of the patio door closing. And all went silent.

GRADY'S LIGHT went off minutes later and stayed off. I spoke to Peter some more, getting his son's name and some other info-birthdate, last known job, schools attended-in case finding him required more than just looking it up in the phone book. Then I hurried to catch up on my paw-print-wiping duties.

Over an hour passed. Jeremy found a dead bird and a dead cat- the former probably a casualty of the latter, which must have been a family pet before death turned it into garden fertilizer.

I reburied the animals and followed Jeremy through the last few beds. No bodies.

While he changed back, I stood watch, more careful now than I'd been the first time, aware of our spectral audience. Seeing my "cadaver dog" change into a man would require a more elaborate explanation than I could dream up.

The ghosts seemed to have left, and I'd asked Eve to circle the perimeter, just to be sure. But I was still on edge, so when I heard a mutter near the neighbor's pool house, I slipped through the hedge to find Jeremy crouched on all fours near the outbuilding.

I stammered an apology and spun around.

He let out a soft laugh. "It's all right, Jaime. I'm human. And decent. Well… pretty much." The sound of a zipper. "There."

"Sorry," I said as I turned. "I thought I heard someone talking."

He bent again, as if examining the ground. "That was me. I picked up my shoe and forgot I'd tucked my watch and pocket change inside." He glanced up from his search. "Still frustrated from my lack of results, it seems."