Page 2 of Wicked Witch of the Wolf

“So, not a human.”

“I don’t know many humans capable of astral projecting their image into another person’s home. I don’t know many paranormals who can do something like that, outside of mages, witches, and dire wolf shifters.”

And demons. Couldn’t forget the damn demons.

“We don’t know that it’stheirimage,” she said. “The photo only shows a tall, hooded figure. Personally, I’m holding out for ghost.”

“If so, you’ll be coming out of retirement for the morning and taking the lead.”

I wasn’t being facetious. As a necromancer, Ida was the ideal person to convince a ghost to take a hike.

“Got it.”

Ida docked the LTD in front of Mayor Derecho’s palatial ranch-style home. The front yard had been xeriscaped to resemble a desert creek, complete with trickling water. Recirculated, most definitely. The mayor was well-known as a stickler for water conservation.

“Should we park in front?” Ida asked.

“No reason not to. If the person is projecting from a distance, they feel safe. Our presence won’t bother them.”

“And if it’s a ghost?” She shut off the engine and shoved the keys into her pocket.

“Same thing.”

We disembarked, and Fennel shot off to the back of the house, where there was easy roof and attic access. None of us thought the culprits were on site, but it was smart to make sure.

Ida waved at the front door. “Good morning, Carmen.”

“Betty, Ida, thank you for coming.”

Mayor Derecho drew the front of her bathrobe tighter around her chest with one hand and held a steaming mug to her lips with the other. She was in her early sixties, tall with a slim build. Her shoulder-length ebony hair was elegantly threaded with white, her brown skin lightly creased by time.

She was kind, levelheaded, and shrewd—by far the best mayor this little town had ever had. I’d re-registered in California even when I hadn’t been sure how long I’d be staying, just to cast my vote for her.

“Mayor Derecho, what are you doing out here?” I asked. “I assumed you’d be asleep, since you gave Ida a key.”

“Carmen, please,” she said, motioning us inside. “I’d planned to be asleep, but my uninvited houseguest decided to show up early.”

“Where?” I asked.

“In the kitchen. It’s still there.”

“Perfect. We can have some coffee while we talk to it.” Ida strolled through the front door, no hesitation in her hot-pink-sneakeredstep. She was dressed from head to toe in the color, from her sweatshirt to her socks.

I, on the other hand, was dressed from sweater to boots in black, as usual.

“Betty, I hated calling you and Ida out so early, but this is becoming something of an annoyance. I’ve got an important meeting coming up with the city council, and I’d rather not be distracted.”

I was a little taken aback by her casual attitude. “You don’t seem afraid of this thing.”

“No,” she said on a sigh.

It was immediately apparent why she’d sighed her response.

“Geez Louise, if you were going to go to the trouble of haunting someone, you could have at least put some effort into it.” Ida poured herself a cup of coffee and regarded the hooded figure.

It had the look of a ghost, ephemeral and smoky, with charcoal holes for eyes, a gaping mouth, and a large warty nose that protruded from the hood. It reminded me of the evil queen’s disguise fromSnow White and The Seven Dwarfs. It floated menacingly from the stove to the fridge to the back door.

The thing was lessThe Exorcistand moreScooby-Doo Where Are You?scary.Which was to say, it wasn’t frightening at all.

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