Special Forces.”
“You’re babbling.” Mama shuddered. “I never should have allowed you to come to this—this godforsaken place.”
“Allowed, Mama? I’m a grown woman.”
“You’re a child,” Mama said. “You’ve no idea what the world is like, what is out there. Now get your things. We’re going home.”
“I am home, Mama. Grim is my home. I’m his wife.”
“No, no, no.” Mama shook her head. “It’s not possible. You wouldn’t do this to me.”
Sassy sighed. “This isn’t about you. This is about us. Grim and I are married.” She held up her hand as Mama started to object. “End of subject. You and Daddy Joel are welcome to visit any time you like, but we’re staying in Hannah.” Sassy glanced around. “Where is Daddy Joel, by the way?”
“Oh, who cares?” Mama tottered over to a chair and collapsed. “Everything is ruined, ruined. I cannot believe I’ve lost another child to this horrible town.”
Mama burst into tears.
Old habits are hard to break, and Sassy had spent a lifetime jumping through hoops at the slightest emotional twitch from Mama. Mama was crying. Blind panic washed over Sassy. Mama was the moon and she was the tide, pulled hither and yon at her whim.
A soothing hand settled on her shoulders. Grim sensed her struggle. His strength flowed through her, calming her, and her anxiety eased.
Evan swung his legs off the couch. “Your mother doesn’t approve of me, Lolly. She’s been doing her dead level best to get me arrested. Was convinced I bumped you off.” He got to his feet and stretched. “Good thing you showed up.”
“I knew you weren’t lying,” Whitsun said. “In my line of work, you learn to sniff out the truth.” He tipped his hat at Sassy. “Congratulations on your happy news, ma’am.”
“Thank you, Sheriff Whitsun.”
Whitsun turned to Sassy’s mother. “Now your daughter’s back safe and sound, I’ll be going, Mrs. Champion.”
Mama lifted her tear ravaged face. “Safe? She’s broken off her engagement with a man from a good family to marry a complete stranger. Who are his people? How will he support her?” She slammed her fist against her knee. “If you had taken her into custody like I asked you to, none of this would have happened.”
“Custody?” Sassy’s jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious.”
“I needed you at home, away from this place and its influence.” Mama swiped at her wet cheeks. “I was right. Look what’s happened. You’ve ruined everything. Who knows what it will take for Joel and me to sort this out.”
“I don’t need sorting, Mama.” She gave Whitsun a tight smile. “Thank you for your time, Sheriff. As you can see, I’m fine.”
“Not a problem.” Whitsun nodded at Mama. “Ma’am.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Evan said. “Want to have a word with you about that little matter we discussed.”
“You mean Charlie Skinner? Step outside. I’ll tell you what I’ve found.”
Evan slapped Grim on the shoulder. “You might want to tag along, Big ’Un. This is about you-know-who.”
He was talking about the witch, and Grim knew it. His hard, muscular body tensed in anticipation. He was a predator on the scent.
He glanced from Sassy to her mother. “Sassy?”
“It’s okay. Mama and I need a moment alone.”
Grim hesitated. “You are certain?”
“Oh, yes.”
The men strode from the room, three lethal males on a mission.
The front door closed behind them. Tamping down her dread at the coming scene, Sassy faced her mother. Mama’s face was wan, her makeup smeared. She looked wilted and fragile.
In spite of her annoyance at her mother’s highhanded manner, Sassy felt sorry for her. This sudden burst of independence from her once malleable daughter must be bewildering.
Sassy’s resolve weakened. This was going to be harder than she’d thought.
“Hello?” Sassy looked around. “I could use a little help here.”
Junior and the Dalmatian appeared on a gust of cold air.
Mama lifted her head at the sudden drop in temperature. She saw the ghosts and went pale.
“Mama.” Sassy squared her shoulders. “This is an intervention.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Eleanor staggered to her feet and grabbed the back of the chair for support. “Juke. Oh, my God, Juke.”
She turned on Sassy. “See what you’ve done? I’m seeing things.”
“Stop fussing and sit down, Ellie,” Junior said. “I’m a ghost, not a product of your nerves.”
Ellie? Nobody referred to Eleanor Champion by a diminutive, not even Daddy Joel. But Junior had done so, and without demur from Mama.
Guess death had its privileges.
Mama sank back into her chair, her face devoid of color. “I don’t believe in ghosts.”
“Really, Ellie? After the things you’ve seen, you can say that?”
“I want