“Well, you have to admit that Dooney’s death could have been the curse,” Andre said.

“Not anymore,” I pointed out. “Quentin’s death had nothing to do with the curse.”

“That we know of,” Andre said.

Nick and I exchanged a glance.

“Whoever just tried to give me a haircut with a scythe was not a ghost,” I said.

Nick put his arm around me in a comforting half hug. “Come on, love, let’s go get you some tea. I think this whole thing has caused you to imagine—”

Whoosh! The blade of the scythe appeared in the hedge right between us.

“Ah!” Nick yelled. He pushed Andre away from the hedge, grabbed my hand and started running. We turned left, then right, and then the blade appeared in the hedge right in front of us and Nick spun us around and we sprinted through the maze until it was all a big green blur.

I don’t know how he figured out the way, but Nick had us out of the maze and halfway across the lawn before I realized we were safe, which was good because I was about to black out. I stumbled and Nick slowed, catching me before I tumbled to the ground.

“Andre, wait!” he called.

Andre turned around. His gaze went to the maze behind us, and he hurried forward to catch my other side. The two of them helped carry me up the veranda stairs where they found a stone bench for me to sit on.

“Are you all right?” Nick asked. He was checking my pulse at my wrist.

“Yeah, sure,” I wheezed. “Just a little out of shape and scared witless.”

“It appears we lost them,” Nick said. “But we’ll need to report that incident to the police.” He pressed a hand to his own chest. “That was terrifying. I mean, what if they’d actually hit one of us. They could have severed . . .” He shuddered.

“Ginger! What are you doing out here?” Harry asked. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Oh, you know, the usual, running for my life,” I said. He did not return my weak attempt at a smile.

Chapter 17

“What were you thinking?” Harry cried, after Nick and Andre filled him in. “I leave you alone for a few minutes and you almost get decapitated.”

I put my hand to my throat. “Can we talk about something else?”

“No,” he said. “Let’s go find Detective Stewart, you need to tell him what happened.”

“He’s going to yell at me again for meddling,” I said. I turned to look at Andre and Nick. “And he’s going to yell at you, too.”

“I just got here,” Nick protested.

“He won’t like that either,” I said. “He’s already sore that Harry is here.”

“None of that matters,” Harry said. “The killer is clearly worried that you know something, and they’re trying to silence you.”