“Anytime.” Lowering her voice, she gave me a serious look. “Sweetheart, if you need backup, don’t you hesitate to call me. You might be getting in over your head here. I’ll keep my promise; I won’t say a word about this, not even to your mother, but it sounds like we’re talking about a murder, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.” I swallowed. “It kinda looks that way.”

She sighed. “Goddamn ghouls.”

It seemed to genuinely disturb her. I wondered fleetingly about Lurine’s wealthy octogenarian husband’s death, and pushed that thought firmly away. Still really, really didn’t want to know. And then I thought about dark-haired ghouls who were neither young nor old, and Stefan Ludovic’s patient, piercing, ice-blue gaze.

I shivered a bit. Didn’t want to know if he was involved in this, either. Or at least I didn’t want it to be true.

“Daisy, baby!” Mom hurried over to the shore, a pair of clean, dry towels over her arm. “Are you cold? I brought towels.”

“I’m fine.” It was true; I didn’t have a drop of water on me.

“You’re not.” Since Mom couldn’t fuss over me, she fussed over Lurine, who bore it with amused fondness. “Look at that muck! You don’t want to get it all over your pretty sundress.” Picking up Lurine’s discarded dress, she eyed it critically, examining the seams. “Is this a Marc Jacobs? Because you know I could make it for you at a fraction of the price with twice the workmanship.”

“It’s from last season. Don’t worry about it.” Having wiped the river water and clinging bits of rotten plant matter and other unidentified muck from her legs, Lurine held out her hand. Mom hesitated. “Okay, fine. Let’s talk about a commission, but not at a fraction of the price. I don’t want to have this fight again. Can I get dressed now?”

“Yes, please!” Gus’s voice boomed in answer. He was still standing sentry duty, now with his massive back pointedly turned and a ham-size hand shielding his eyes. As it happened, the ogre was a gentleman. “Can she get dressed?”

“Hey, Gus! Can we come out now?” someone called from one of the mobile units, peering cautiously through the curtains. “I’ve got hungry kids and burgers turning to charcoal on the grill.”

I laughed.

Nothing was funny, not really. It was just that the absurdity of the exchange in the midst of some very scary and ominous goings-on reminded me that I loved this place and these people.

“It’s okay, Gus.” I patted his arm, which unsurprisingly was a lot like patting a boulder. “They can come out now.”

“Do you have time for a cup of coffee, honey?” Mom asked me in a hopeful tone.

I shook my head. “I need to touch base with Cody.”

She did her best to look crafty. “Oh, of course.”