edge of her chair and said, “Spill it.”
Joy looked between Grace and Hope, and with her eyes wide, she said, “There are rumors of a suspicious death in the house in the mid-1980s.”
“A murder?” Grace asked, choking over a lump that suddenly formed in the back of her throat.
“Maybe,” Joy said, her tone ominous. “There was never any proof, but there was speculation in the local paper. A family named Kort lived there. The wife, Jenny, died suddenly. Drug overdose. Heroin. But her family and all her friends swore up and down that she never used drugs and barely even drank alcohol. Then one day she’s shooting up enough to overdose? It doesn’t make a lot of sense. Although, I suppose she could’ve just been good at hiding her addiction. Or her loved ones were covering to preserve some sort of family reputation.”
“That sounds more likely. Heroin isn’t exactly the kind of drug that is easy to hide if you do it regularly,” Grace said.
Hope raised one eyebrow. “You sound so… ominous. Is this something you’ve witnessed before?”
“Unfortunately, yes. Alyssa’s birth dad was an addict. We watched him spiral over the course of two years. It was really ugly.” Grace’s mom had never actually been married. Grace’s father died in a car crash before she was born. And then there was a revolving door of men in her mother’s life. The worst was Alyssa’s dad, and Grace strongly suspected that the reason her sister put up with shitty boyfriends was a direct result of her relationship with her own father. Or lack of one anyway.
Joy frowned. “I never knew that.”
“I don’t really talk about it.” Grace wrapped her hands around her mug. “Anyway, so there was speculation that someone gave the wife a lethal dose?”
“Yep. No arrests were ever made though. If we want to research it, we’d have to get the police records or talk to the detective who worked the case because all the relatives are gone now.”
“Moved away?” Grace asked.
She shook her head. “Died. The immediate ones anyway. Looks like there are cousins up in Washington and a couple down south, but no one who ever lived here in Premonition Pointe.”
Grace thought of the message the ghost had given them. Roots run deep. Family is the only thing that matters. We will never give up.
“It seems clear the ghost is unsettled and wants Jenny Kort’s murder solved,” Grace speculated. “That would make the most sense as to why the ghost isn’t willing to move on.”
“If Jenny was murdered,” Hope interjected. “How are we going to find that out if there’s no one to ask about the details?”
“There are police reports we could track down,” Joy said. “We could also talk to former neighbors, reporters, even medical professionals. The eighties weren’t that long ago. And in this small town? You know how people like to talk.”
Grace stifled a groan. Wasn’t that the truth. Small towns were the worst for gossip. She was willing to bet she could take a trip to the hair salon and find at least a small handful of people on any given day who had some juicy gossip.
“When can we start this research?” Grace asked. “I’ll need to make a list of possible leads.”
“Tomorrow?” Joy asked with a shrug.
“No Art Market meetings tomorrow?” Hope asked.
“Nope. My day is completely free,” Joy said. “Paul’s not even going to be home for dinner. He has a golf game and is planning to eat at the club.”
“Okay. Perfect.” Grace got up and grabbed her phone. After double-checking the appointment she’d scheduled, she said, “I’m meeting with a witch who specializes in dealing with stubborn hauntings tomorrow morning. After her assessment, I’m available to check things out.”
“A witch who specializes in hauntings?” Hope echoed. “Now things are getting serious. What does she do? Break out a Ouija board?”
“Ha, effing, ha,” Grace said dryly. But then she shrugged, because in her haste to find help, she hadn’t taken the time to find out what methods the ghost whisperer used to cleanse homes. She hoped it wasn’t something batshit crazy like blood sacrifices or anything to do with casting curses. Usually Grace was careful about who she worked with, but she’d been so excited to find someone who sounded like they knew what they were talking about that she hadn’t hesitated to hire her. “Oh, gods. Please let tomorrow go well. I do not need this to blow up in my face.”
“It won’t,” Joy insisted. “You’re too smart for that.”
Grace