Lavinia’s ghost started to fade, her final words barely above a whisper. “Only you can help me, Willa.”

Pandora batted at the last trailing wisp of ghost mist, then looked up at me and meowed something that sounded like, “You have to help.”

I frowned down at the cat. “Did you just say—?”

My words were cut off by the sound of the bells over the door. I looked between the bookcases in time to see Pepper St. Onge bustle in carrying a silver tray complete with teapot and two porcelain teacups on dainty saucers. She wore a cute vintage skirt set in violet, which complemented the mass of auburn hair piled on top of her head. Pepper usually wore her hair up like that. She’d been growing it since kindergarten, where we’d met and become best friends. Last I knew it fell below her waist. My heart warmed thinking of our close friendship that had lasted for forty-three years, even though I’d spent almost half of those years “down south” in Massachusetts.

“I heard what happened at the library, so I figured you could use a nice calming cup of tea.” Pepper peered down the aisle at me as she put the tray down on the coffee table.

She settled her tall, slim frame onto the couch, then patted the seat beside her as an invitation for me to sit.

“Thanks.”

I sat beside her and she poured the tea, then added a splash of cream from the tiny silver creamer she’d brought.

“I put something a little special in there to calm your nerves,” she said as she handed me a pink chintz cup perched atop its matching saucer.

I looked into the cup dubiously. Pepper had fallen in love with herbal teas when we were in high school. It was no surprise to me when she opened a tea room in our small hometown. People came from all over New England to drink tea and eat finger sandwiches and cakes in her cozy shop. Pepper claimed that her teas had healing powers.

At first, I had thought she was just being fanciful, but after witnessing several examples of her healing teas in action, I believed they did have some sort of powers. The problem was that they usually backfired and had the opposite effect than was intended.

I sipped the tea politely, wondering if it would have the opposite effect and make me more anxious.

Pepper watched me from over the rim of her teacup. My heart warmed at the concern in her emerald green eyes.

“How did you find out about Lavinia already?” I asked.

“The twins stopped by for a bag of peppermint tea,” she said, referring to Hattie and Cordelia.

“Ahh…” I nodded sagely. The grapevine in our small town worked quickly, so I wasn’t surprised that word had gotten out already.

“So, what happened?”