“Not for you? Then who is it for?”

“Mr. Henderson.”

“Mr. Henderson? But why? Why would you bring that man pie?” Izzy laughed. “You have me in such a tizzy, I’m talking like a nursery rhyme.”

“Sorry. There’s no time to explain. I’ll tell you everything when I get back.” I raced out of the kitchen, then whipped back around, hurried over to Izzy, and kissed her on the cheek. “I want you to know, I see you.” I backed up a step and pointed at her. “I see what you do for this family.” I took a couple more hurried steps then added, “And the world is a better place with you in it, Izzy Warren.”

My aunt smiled, her fingertips at her cheek where I had kissed her. “Thank you. And good luck!”

Chapter 25

I banged on Mr. Henderson’s door as loudly as I dared, not wanting to rouse the neighborhood.

I waited a minute or two, but when there was no answer, I knocked again.

This time only seconds passed before the door whipped open. “Brynn, why are you here this time of night?” Mr. Henderson shot his head out and did a quick side to side scan of the street. “Is something after you?”

“No, no, it’s nothing like that. And I’m sorry for calling on you so late, but it is important. Could I come in?”

He hesitated.

“I brought pie.” I lifted the plate.

“Is that peach?”

I nodded.

“Peach is my favorite.” He stepped to the side for me to enter. “Well, hurry up, then. It must be nearly ten. Two hours from midnight.”

I gave him a sideways look.

He leaned toward me, then whispered, “The witching hour.”

“Right. Of course.” I nodded, matching his serious expression.

Once we were inside, he said, “Can I make you a cup of tea?”

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

“No bother. My mother always used to say nothing soothes like a cup of tea on a cold night. I think I’ll have one myself. It will go well with the pie.” He hurried toward the kitchen, calling out behind him, “Make yourself at home. I’ll just be a minute.”

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. I didn’t want to alarm Mr. Henderson any more than I already had, and I also didn’t want to get too excited, to prevent being disappointed over what I was hoping to find.

I wandered around the living room. There were lots of shelves loaded down with interesting knickknacks. Mr. Henderson had only moved in two years ago, but he had really made the little Arts & Crafts Bungalow his own. I eyed the brass model planes and the 1940s typewriter —before moving on to a row of books. My face dropped once I caught a few of the titles on the shelf. Magical Creatures from Around the World, Haunted Places, Witches Among Us.

“Are you interested in the paranormal?”

I spun around to face Mr. Henderson, who was carrying a sturdy wood tray with tea and pie.