Theo came around the table. “That would be wonderful.”

As we walked toward the door, I couldn’t help but hesitate briefly as we passed a towering stack of books on the floor.

Theo leaned in and whispered, “It’s killing you not to shelve them, isn’t it?”

“Maybe just a little.”

• • •

My walk home was uneventful, which was good, because what I found waiting for me at the B&B was far from a welcoming sight.

Four police cars and one van stood parked on the street outside of Ivywood Hollow.

I hurried my step. There were several officers on the B&B’s front lawn, but I rushed past them and headed straight for the man in the fishing hat by the porch. Once Beatty caught sight of me approaching, he stepped forward to close the distance. “Brynn, I’m so sorry you had to come home to this.”

“What’s going on?”

“They have a warrant. I managed to limit them to the room Constance was found in and the greenhouse, but I couldn’t do anything beyond that.”

“The greenhouse? What could they possibly be looking for in the greenhouse?” Maybe it was the look on his face, or maybe I was just finally catching up to what was going on, but I already knew the answer. The murder weapon. They were looking for the murder weapon. “They’re not going to find anything. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do,” Beatty said, sounding almost as frustrated as I felt. “But listen, you’d better go inside. They’ve finished up in there, but Nora’s locked herself in her room. Izzy could probably use a hand calming her down.”

I cast a quick glance over to the house. “Nora’s locked herself in her room?”

“That’s what Izzy said.”

Oh dear. I resisted every impulse I had not to sprint inside.

Nora was not the type of witch to lock herself in her room.

I hurried up the front steps, swung the door open, and stepped inside. “Izzy?”

“Thank the stars!”

The shout had come from up the stairs.

“Brynn? Come quickly, darling. I could use a hand.”

I raced up to the third floor. I found Izzy with her back pressed against the elaborately carved door of Nora’s bedroom, purple sparks spitting from underneath.

“She’s lost her mind,” Izzy said, eyes wide, head shaking.

“They’re going through my greenhouse, Brynn! My greenhouse!”

The greenhouse was Nora’s private space. Her sanctuary. The room of her own. It was where, well, it was where she kept all of her stuff! And now the police were going through it. Her herbs. Her fledgling plants. Her horticulture books. Her spell books. Not that they would understand them. They were all coded as recipes. At least I hoped they were. This was just awful. I could only imagine how Nora was feeling.

“I will kill every last one of them! Boil them in a pot! Hang their parts from trees!”

Right. I guess I didn’t have to imagine how Nora was feeling after all.