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  Somehow, that final thought convinced her more than anything else had that she wasn’t losing her mind. How could she be crazy when she was so practical?

  Nick was real. The question wasn’t why, for that she could guess pretty well. She’d come back to the beach house, and so had he. They were tied together, even after all this time. Unfinished business. Or something else. Some emotion she didn’t want to admit. Something stronger than lust.

  The question wasn’t why, but how. For the first time since Nick had come out of the water to kiss her, she thought she might be ready to think about how it had happened.

  She’d never been inside Bethany Magick, but the sign caught her attention on the way home. Bess pulled into one of the narrow parking spaces in front of the shop. The outside was painted red and purple, with gilt-edge windows and doorway. Glass witches’ balls hung in the windows above displays of candles, tarot cards and other mystical paraphernalia. Books, too, and that was what she was interested in.

  Inside, the shop smelled like rosemary, and Bess took a deep, long whiff. Small pots of it grew along a sunny window-sill behind the cash register. She wondered if she could grow some in her living room.

  “It’s rosemary,” said a voice from behind Bess. “For remembrance.”

  Bess turned to see a woman about her own age. She didn’t wear the expected flowing gypsy skirts or dangling earrings, but rather a pair of faded, comfortable-looking jeans and black flip-f lops, along with a form-fitting T-shirt with a skull on the front. The skull’s eyes were hearts outlined in glittering rhinestones.

  “Yes,” Bess said. “It’s one of my favorite smells.”

  The woman beamed. “I’m Alicia Morris. Have you been to Bethany Magick before?”

  “Hi. Bess Walsh, and no.” She glanced around. “Is this your store?”

  “Yep.” Alicia smiled proudly and moved behind the counter. “Look around. If you have any questions, let me know.”

  “Thanks.” Bess had plenty of questions, but she wasn’t quite sure how to ask them. “I’m just browsing right now.”

  “Sure. Go ahead.”

  Bess had no idea what she was even looking at, much less what she should be seeking for, but she made a slow circuit of the shop. Comprised of two rooms with an open arch between them, Bethany Magick had something, it seemed, for every taste. Close to the front of the shop and the cash register were shelves holding Magic 8 Balls, Ouija boards and inexpensive novelty items like unicorn-shaped candles, plastic gnomes and boy wizard glasses.

  “The good stuff’s in the other room,” said Alicia from behind the novel she was reading. “I keep that stuff around for the looky-loos and tourists. But you’re not either, are you?”

  Bess put down the feather-topped pen she’d been examining. “You can tell?”

  Alicia grinned. “I had a fifty-fifty chance of being right, didn’t I? I couldn’t lose. If you really are a local you’ll be glad I didn’t confuse you with one of those dad-gum tourists, and if you’re a vacationer you’ll be flattered I think you’re a townie.”

  Bess laughed. “I’m sort of both, actually. I used to live here during the summers years ago, and now I have my grandparents’ old house, but I haven’t been back in about twenty years.”

  “Twenty’s a nice round number.” Alicia’s eyes sharpened with interest. “Which house, if you don’t mind my asking? By old you must not mean one of those mondo-mansions going up all over.”

  “No. It’s on Maplewood. The one with the wraparound deck. Gray shingled siding. There’s a huge new house just behind it, so you can’t really see it from the street anymore.”

  “I think I know which one you mean. You can see it from the beach.”

  “Yes.” Bess touched the fuzzy, brightly colored hair on a small plastic troll. It was cute, but wouldn’t help her. “So what do you mean by the good stuff?”

  “Let me show you.” Alicia put down her book, a romance by the look of the cover, and led Bess through the archway. The beaded curtain clicked like whispers as they brushed through it.

  This room was dimmer and lit by fiber-optic lights set into the ceiling. Shelves and small tables draped with velvet held an array of interesting items. Sacks of smooth stones, packs of cards, gleaming pendants on chains.

  Books filled one wall floor to ceiling, and a small waterfall splashed and tinkled in the corner. A curtained doorway led to another room not visible from the front.

  “I do readings back there.” Alicia pointed. “Tarot, palm, runes. By appointment only, though, since I can’t leave the shop unattended.”

  “Of course not.” Bess had heard of tarot and palm readings, but not runes. She lifted a sack of stones from one of the tables. “Runes?”

  “Runes are a system of divination. Like tarot cards.” Alicia demonstrated, shaking out a number of small, smooth stones from a velvet bag onto the table. She lifted one, marked with what looked like an upper-case P. “This is the Wynn rune. Usually symbolizes joy or luck, or something being resolved happily.” She gazed at Bess evenly. “Ring any bells?”

  Bess laughed, self-conscious. “I’m not sure. I’m in the midst of a divorce, actually. That doesn’t seem to fit.”

  Alicia rubbed the rune between her fingers and studied her. “Are you sure?”

  Bess laughed again. “It’s a situation being resolved, anyway.”

  The woman grinned and pulled another rune from the bag, holding it up. “Wyrd.”

  “What’s that one mean?”

  “Fate. Destiny. An unknown outcome.” Alicia clinked the stones together in her palm.

  Bess swallowed hard. “That’s…”

  “Incredible?” Alicia shook her head and slipped the runes back into their small velvet bag. “You should have me read for you sometime. Really read for you. I’ll give you the local discount.”

  It was Bess’s turn to grin. “Really? Thanks.”

  Alicia tipped her head to study her for so long it should have become uncomfortable, but Bess didn’t feel that way. “What did you come in here for?” she asked at last.

  “I’d never been in. It looked interesting. And,” Bess admitted, with a smile designed to downplay her answer, “I thought I might like to learn about…spirits.”

  “Spirits?” Alicia’s smile again thinned, but didn’t disappear. “Why?”

  Bess stumbled on her answer to the blunt question. “I’m interested?”

  The shopkeeper nodded and went to the bookshelves, where she pulled out a thick hardcover volume. “The Other Side is a good reference source without being too heavy.”

  “Ghost stories?” Bess laughed awkwardly as she took the book.

  “Some. More like encounters. Theories. Experiences of trained mediums, trying to explain why some people can’t seem to leave this plane.”

  Bess flipped through a few pages. “What about those who…come back?”

  She looked up when Alicia didn’t answer. The other woman stared, mouth slightly pursed. “Come back?”

  Bess shrugged hastily. “Do they ever come back?”

  “Do you mean a near-death experience? Tunnel of white light, that sort of thing?”

  “No. I mean someone who’s died but their spirit doesn’t come back right away. Maybe not for a long time.” Bess closed the book but grasped it tightly.

  “I’m not an expert on spirits,” Alicia said thoughtfully, “but I’m sure there are accounts of spiritual manifestations taking place over long periods of time that would make it seem like the spirit went away, only to return. But I’m not sure if that’s what you mean.”

  “Oh, I don’t really mean anything.” Bess laughed and held the book to her chest. “I’ll take this one. Do you have anything else?”

  Alicia tapped a few volumes, then pulled down one more. She didn’t hand it to Bess right away. “Is the spirit malevolent?”

  “Malevolent? Oh, no! Oh, wow. No.” Bess shook her head vehemently. “I’m just interested—I don’t actually, you know…have a