He’d seen a couple of Finn’s deputies patrolling at the other end of town and didn’t doubt more of them were roaming about, keeping an eye on things. Finn was good. He was smart, and he was careful.

Simon thought about that briefly, then turned his musings ahead to the next weekend as he walked, wondering with what was still little more than idle interest if maybe he’d ask Connie Taylor to go out with him on Friday or Saturday night. They’d gone out on a few casual dates, dinner and a movie and, once, to a small party held by friends, and he liked her, enjoyed her pleasant company. She worked at the bank as well, one of the loan officers. She was pretty and cheerful, she had a good sense of humor, and so far they’d discovered a fair amount in common.

Dwelling with increasing pleasure on the idea of another date with Connie, Simon turned a corner into the block that housed his condo. He didn’t hear a sound, was given not even enough warning to drop his shield and probe.

Something struck his head in a brutal blow that dropped him in his tracks.

—

“HOLLIS?”

She blinked and looked down to see DeMarco’s hand on her arm. Then she looked around the table at the team and new friends, all staring at her, all visible again and reassuringly alive.

I’m back. Thank God, I’m back.

“What did you see?” her partner asked.

Hollis forced herself to concentrate, still feeling cold. “I’m not quite sure.” Slowly, she described the spirits who seemed to have lived throughout decades, longer. And the old man with the awful wound in his head and his warning. And the crow.

Bishop said, “You don’t usually see how they died.”

“No, thank God.”

DeMarco was looking at her steadily. “So why this time?”

Hollis frowned. “Because how he died is important? Because how he died can tell us who he was? I don’t know. Finn? An elderly man, shot in the head? Was that crime ever reported, as far as you know?”

“Must have been before my time. Or, at least, before my time in law enforcement.”

“Figures.” Hollis sighed.

“I’ll have somebody go through what records we have of deaths by gunshot in Salem, but . . . Remember, it’s only recently that we’ve had official law enforcement here. Something like that is more likely to show up in the town newspaper than anything more official. The newspaper archives are being digitized, but there’s still a lot on microfilm. It’ll take time.”

Hollis sighed again. “So another piece of the puzzle, I guess, and good luck to us putting it together. And as far as the crow is concerned . . . I have no idea at all about the crow. Except that I got the distinct impression that it was as alive as I am. Not a spirit.”

Finn was looking around uneasily now. “I never thought of this town as haunted.”