A Witch Before Dying: A Wishcraft Mystery by Heather Blake

easier said than done. I didn’t know anyone smarter than she—or anyone who knew me better. I tapped on the window and she smiled when she saw me, making me feel a teensy bit guilty.
    After unlocking the door and letting me and Missy in, she folded her arms and said, “For the love, Darcy. I’m getting really jealous.”
    In the small kitchenette in the back of the shop, I filled a bowl with water and set it before Missy, who lapped with enthusiasm. “Why?”
    Harper held up her hands, fingers popping up one by one as she ticked off reasons. “First, two weeks after moving here, you find a dead body. Second, yesterday, you find another dead body. Third, you have some crazedwoodsman in your backyard watching you. Fourth, Nick Sawyer is a serious catch. And fifth”—her thumb shot out—“give me a sec and I’ll think of a fifth.”
    “You’re demented,” I said with a smile. “You know that, right? Only you would think those first three were reasons for envy.” I didn’t want to talk about Nick and how he was definitely a great catch. But there was a big, glaring issue with that comment. He wasn’t the least bit caught—not by me at least.
    Her brown eyes widened with excitement as she not-so-patiently pressed for details. “Any idea who was in the woods?”
    “No.”
    “Is it true the person had a knife, that he was carving something?”
    “Probably.”
    A little of the excitement left her eyes, and a thread of fear wove into them. “Carving
what
?”
    “Wood.”
    “Oh, thank God. I was worried it was a small animal or something.”
    My stomach rolled at the thought. “Way to make me feel better,” I said, erasing any guilt I’d been feeling.
    “Sorry,” she mumbled, not really sorry at all. Her face pinched. “Why wood?” Her brows were drawn in concentration as she tried to wrap her brain around the situation. She liked to have all the answers—even when there were none to be had. “And what kind of wood?”
    Was she serious? “I have no idea. Brown wood.”
    “You need a crash course in forensics, Darcy.”
    I disagreed. I’d leave the forensics stuff to her.
    She shook a doggy biscuit out of a box she kept under the counter and gave it to Missy. “Do you think it was a message of some sort?”
    I wasn’t sure what kind of message wood shavings sent. “Again, I have no idea, Harper.”
    “Don’t get cranky with me. Someone has to figure out what’s going on.”
    Missy crunched away. I kind of wished I had a cookie, too. A big one. “The police are looking into it.”
    “Be that as it may, I’m going to do a search on woodcarving serial killers. See if there’s a chance of any being in the area. Wood carving. So strange.”
    I held in a smile at her renewed enthusiasm. “You do that.”
    “You’re mocking, but you never know what might turn up.”
    “The person in the woods could have been someone who likes to randomly sit in the woods at night and whittle. For fun.”
    She rolled her eyes.
    I didn’t blame her. No one just sat in the woods and whittled in the dark. I had been only trying to make myself feel better. “Or it could have been the Peeper Creeper, who is simply creepy and not dangerous.”
    “True. Whittling is kind of creepy.”
    I laughed.
    “What?”
    “Whittling isn’t creepy. It’s an art form.”
    “Well, it’s creepy when the whittler is watching you.”
    She had a point.
    “It would be nice if we could figure out who the Peeper was and rule him out as the person who was in your backyard,” she said.
    “Actually…”
    “You have an idea? Who? Who?” She bounced up and down like a giddy schoolgirl.
    “Are you up for a little investigating?” It was an unnecessary question. Harper was always up for a little investigating.
    “Am I breathing? Who are we investigating?”
    “Vincent Paxton.”
    She drew in a breath. “You think…”
    “I
suspect
. I don’t know anything for sure. That’s why we need to investigate.”
    Nodding, she