“Right.” I handed her a slip of paper. “In case you don’t have it, here’s Sinclair’s number. Give him a call and work out a time and place to meet on neutral territory.”

“No posse?” she asked.

“I’ll be there to observe,” I said. “And the posse will be close at hand. But you’ll have a chance to talk. It’s more than I would have given you.”

It was a good exit line, so I took it, leaving Emmeline standing in the lobby without a response.

I’m not going to lie—that part felt satisfying. There was a stirring in the hydrangea bushes alongside the inn’s front door as I passed, and Jojo peeked out to give me a grim-faced thumbs-up.

Half an hour later, I was feeling a lot less complacent.

“You agreed to what?” I shouted into my phone at Sinclair. “To meet where? Are you serious? The graveyard? At freakin’ sundown?”

“Emmy called on her right to have the dead bear witness on her behalf,” he said, as though it were the most logical thing in the world. “It was either that or agree to meet her with no witnesses of my own.”

“Uh, no!” I could feel the air around me tightening, and I tamped down my temper. “She doesn’t get to dictate the terms, Sinclair. We do.”

“Look, you agreed to let me set this up, Daisy.” There was a faint note of impatience in his voice. “She invoked a protocol. I accepted a compromise. Would you rather I’d agreed to meet her alone?”

“No,” I said. “I’d rather you hadn’t agreed to meet her at duppy ground zero. I mean, that’s what a cemetery is, right?”

There was a clicking sound on the other end of the phone as Sinclair shook his head, beaded dreads clattering. “Only if you want to catch ’em newly dead,” he said. “I checked the obituaries; no one’s died in Pemkowet in the past week. No wandering souls around. Anyway, I’m not worried about her catching duppies, just unleashing one. And if she decides to unleash a duppy she’s already caught, it won’t matter where we are. Trust me—Emmy’s just grandstanding. She probably thinks it will scare you,” he added.

Beneath my charcoal-gray knit jersey dress, my tail swished back and forth. “Don’t goad me.”

Sinclair gave a brief chuckle. “Sorry.”

“You’re sure?” I pressed him. “What does Casimir say? What about your dad? Is he on his way?”

“Casimir said the coven will only gain strength from making a stand on hallowed ground,” he said. “And my father should be arriving in about ten minutes. Okay?”

I sighed. “Okay.”