I knew Charleston’s history pretty well, and the last half of the 1800s was rough by any standards. War, Yellow Fever, earthquake, violent storms, fire... I’m sure the hardy souls who survived must have believed the world was coming to an end.
“I was going to give Father Anne a call to see if we could set Tad’s spirit free,” I said. “Maybe even help him cross over.”
Sorren nodded. “Good idea. I’m sure she’ll be up for it. She’s done that kind of thing before.”
“What about the thing that tried to eat him?” I asked. “That isn’t something we hear about every day. Maybe it’s also causing problems for the ghost tours and Kell’s people – scaring the ghosts and making them more aggressive.”
He frowned. “I don’t have a good answer. There are plenty of unfriendly creatures that can move back and forth across the boundary between life and death. I’m going to have to ask around.” He gave a lopsided grin. “Sounds like something the Briggs Society might know.”
When I want to find something out, I go on the internet. Teag digs into the Web’s dark, ensorcelled recesses. Sorren navigates the complicated politics of Charleston’s immortal and magical community, as well as his contacts around the world. The Briggs Society was one of those communities, a place I’d heard Sorren talk about but never visited myself, an organization dedicated to explorers of all kinds.
“Do you think we’re in danger?”
“I’m not sure,” he replied. “For now, assume the worst. Don’t take any chances. I’ll have Lucinda strengthen the wardings around the shop and around your houses. You can always relax once we find out there’s nothing to worry about.”
It was a nice thought. But finding ‘nothing to worry about’ seemed about as unlikely as snow in a Charleston summer.
THE NEXT MORNING, I got in early to make a phone call. Tad’s ghost was still bound to that old hair necklace, still vulnerable to whatever had taken a bite out of him. After a hundred and fifty years, I figured he deserved better than hanging around a jewelry box.
If there was someone who would know about getting spirits unstuck, it would be Father Anne, Assistant Rector of St. Hildegard’s Episcopal Church. She was also a member of the St. Expeditus Society, a group of renegade Anglican priests who helped put down supernatural threats. I’d worked with her before, and I thought Tad’s problem sounded like it was right up her alley.
Unfortunately, I got her voice mail, so I left her a rather vague but urgent message, and chafed at the delay. As I ended the call, I heard someone rapping at the door to the shop, and found Maggie peering in through the window. “It’s going to be a good day, I can just feel it!” Maggie greeted me when she came in the door.
She’s our part-time helper, and a real god-send. Maggie retired from her teaching job and decided that yoga, travel, and her grandchildren just weren’t enough to keep her busy, so she works a couple of days a week at Trifles and Folly, and helps out when we need extra coverage. She’s sixty and sassy, as she likes to put it, with short silver hair and lively blue eyes. Her fashion sense is pure Woodstock, but her business sense is all Wall Street. Teag and I love having her around.
“Hi, Maggie!” I said, as I headed to finish the work I had started earlier, re-arranging the front window display. Drea had clued me in to a big tea industry conference in town, so I figured featuring our stock of antique silver tea services would be a good idea. Charleston has one of the only tea plantations in North America, just down the road, and as Trina and Rick can attest, Charlestonians love their tea as much as they adore their coffee.
“Oh, pretty!” Maggie said, and went back outside to size up the display from the customers’ perspective. She came back in smiling brightly.
“I think the big set needs to be moved a little to the right,” she suggested. “It looks off-center. My heavens, those pieces are gorgeous!” She lifted a silver creamer from the set I was just about to put in the display.
“They are beautiful,” I agreed. One of the occupational hazards of running a shop like Trifles and Folly is that sometimes you want to take the pretty shiny things home with you. I had already snagged a small tea set for myself – paid for at