“Yeah, sure, no problem,” Nick said. “The job sounds interesting. Something different.”

“Don’t tell me you’re getting bored with the hot books market. You’ve made a lot of money in that line.”

To her surprise, Nick shrugged. “The money’s good, but to tell you the truth, I’m not all that interested in the books or the wack-jobs who collect them. If you and Abby hadn’t convinced me to go into the business, I probably would have found another career.”

Gwen smiled. “International jewel thief?”

“We’ve all got a talent.”

“Given the nature of your talent, Abby and I thought you were better suited to the book business.”

Nick grinned. “You were just looking after me, trying to keep your brother out of jail.”

“That, too. Don’t get me wrong—it was wonderful to see you, Nick—but how in the world did you and Mr. Coppersmith end up driving down here together?”

“Abby introduced us yesterday when I went to the island to get my marching orders.”

“What marching orders?”

“Didn’t Abby tell you? No, she probably hasn’t had a chance. She asked me to walk her down the aisle.”

Gwen smiled. “Of course. No surprise there. You’re her brother.”

“Well, technically speaking, she does have a father.”

“Even if she had asked him to walk her down the aisle, I think the odds are good that he would have declined at the last minute due to some schedule conflict. I hear his latest divorce is not going well. Evidently, the most recent Mrs. Radwell is making things as difficult as possible, and word has it that the future Mrs. Radwell is getting impatient.”

Of the three of them, Abby was the only one who belonged to what—from the outside—passed for a real family. But appearances were deceiving, Gwen thought. Abby’s father, Dr. Brandon C. Radwell, was notoriously unreliable. Two-faced was another term that came to mind. Radwell was the author of the bestselling Families by Choice: A Guide to Creating the Modern Blended Family. The best that could be said about him, in Gwen’s and Nick’s opinion, was that the man practiced what he preached. Radwell was currently in the process of extricating himself from his third marriage. Wife Number Four was waiting in the wings. In the process of making and breaking families, Radwell had left Abby with a stepbrother and two half sisters. In spite of the charming family portrait on the back of Radwell’s book, Abby was not close to anyone in her legal family.

Gwen glanced toward the front of the SUV where Judson and his father were still deep in a quiet conversation. “One thing’s for sure, Abby is marrying into a real family. The Coppersmiths have wrapped themselves around her. She’s one of them now.”

Nick nodded. “Yeah, they’ll take good care of her.”

“And you do look fantastic in a tux.”

“Sure.” Nick winked. “But the really good news is that Girard, the wedding planner, is smokin’ hot.”

Gwen laughed. At the other end of the SUV, Judson and Elias broke off their conversation to look at her. Judson smiled as if seeing her laugh pleased him. Elias squinted a little against the sun and nodded once, to himself, as if whatever he had seen satisfied him. Then he took out a set of keys and tossed them to Nick.

“Time to hit the road, son,” Elias said. He yanked open the passenger-side door. “You drive. I’ll ride shotgun.”

Nick looked at Gwen. “The scary thing is that he means that part about the shotgun.”

GWEN STOOD WITH JUDSON and watched the big SUV pull out of the inn parking lot. She waved one last time to Nick and then turned to go back into the lobby.

“What’s next on our agenda?” she asked.

“Next, we start talking to the people who were most closely acquainted with Evelyn,” Judson said. “Got some names?”

“Not a lot, but there is one person who is at the top of the list. Louise Fuller. I’m not saying she and Evelyn were close, because Louise wasn’t close to anyone. But they worked together on the mirrors, and in a weird sort of way, I think they understood each other. Evelyn was probably the only person in town who realized that Louise had some true paranormal talent. Everyone else thinks she’s crazy.”

“In that case, we’ll start with Fuller.”

Judson pushed open the glass door. Gwen went past him into the lobby. Riley Duncan looked at her across the front desk.

“The boss wants to talk to you, Miss Frazier,” he said. “It’s about your cat.”

Gwen stopped. “What now?”

Trisha emerged from the office, an apologetic expression on her face.

“I’m sorry, Gwen,” she said. “But my housekeeper reports that Max has taken to clawing the drapes and the bedding while you’re out.”

“Oh, dear, I didn’t realize that,” Gwen said. “By all means put the damage on my bill. I’ll start putting Max into his carrier when I’m out of the room. He’s not going to like that, but if he’s destroying the furniture—”

Trisha sighed. “I’m afraid that won’t work. Sara says she will not go in there again as long there is a cat in the room. She’s allergic. You’ll have to take Max with you when you go out.”

The eerie music of the wind chimes rattled Gwen’s senses and sent slivers of ice across the back of her neck. She stood beside the open door of the SUV and looked at Louise Fuller’s small house.

The wind was kicking up in advance of the incoming storm. The sharp breeze stirred the dozens of crystal-and-metal sculptures suspended from the porch roof. The ghostly notes echoed all the way across the spectrum. Gwen glanced at Judson, who had just gotten out from behind the wheel. She knew that he was picking up the same vibes.

In the rear seat of the SUV, Max crouched in his carrier and lashed his tail, making it clear that he was not a happy camper.

“I see what you mean about the wind chimes,” Judson said. He studied the weather-beaten old Victorian. “Weird.”

“I told you, Evelyn always said that Louise has a paranormal sensitivity for tuning crystal and glass.”

She started to close the door of the vehicle, but Max yowled and flattened his ears. Gwen looked at him through the space between the two front seats.

“It’s your own fault that you had to go into the carrier and come with us,” she reminded him. “You were scaring the housekeeper.”

Max bared his fangs.

“It’s okay, take it easy.” Gwen softened her tone. “We’re not going to abandon you. We’ll be back in a few minutes.”

The chimes clashed and tinkled on the rising currents of air. Max meowed, plaintively this time. He clawed at the mesh door of the carrier.

“I think I’d better bring him with us,” Gwen said. “He seems very agitated.”

“He doesn’t like being stuffed into that carrier,” Judson said. “I don’t blame him.”

She opened the rear door of the vehicle and hauled out the heavy carrier with both hands.

“I think he’s putting on weight,” she said.

Judson came around the front of the vehicle. “Here, I’ll take the carrier.”

He grasped the handle. Max did not look any happier, but he stopped complaining.

They started toward the front door.

“I’ll warn you before we go inside—assuming Louise invites us inside, which is not a sure thing—the indoor chimes are even stranger than the ones hanging from the porch roof,” Gwen said. “They pretty much guarantee that none of Louise’s visitors hangs around long.”

“Was Louise one of the subjects in Ballinger’s study?” Judson asked.

“No. Evelyn asked her to participate, but Louise refused. All she cares about are her chimes. Be prepared for her to refuse to talk to us.” Gwen paused. “Two years ago, she accused me of being a witch like her.”

Judson’s eyes went cold. “I’m assuming that wasn’t intended as a compliment?”

“I’m not sure what she meant, to be honest. That’s the thing about Louise. She lives in her own world and interprets reality through her own crystal ball, so to speak. I don’t think she intended to insult me. In her own way she was trying to warn me.”