I ordered coffee. Oh, sorry, “koffee” made from fair trade beans grown in some place I’d never heard of—probably Hindi for New Jersey. From the taste of it, my guess on the wallpaper message was right.

Right after that first sip, my head started to hurt. When I turned, I saw Veronica Tucker.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” she said.

“Is that why you’re ten minutes late? Better have a good excuse, because making me wait isn’t the right way to start this conversation.”

She babbled something as she sat. I just stared at her until she trailed off and started folding her napkin, fingers creasing the edges.

“You called me here to talk,” I said. “The meter’s running.”

“I didn’t try to kill you.”

“Heard that already. Now go back and start at the beginning. You went to Columbus to kill Tiffany Radu . . .”

“That was my mission. I’m sure my aunt told you that the witch-hunters have changed. It’s a lie. Some did. But my family wanted revenge for my mother’s death, so they only pretended to go along with the others. Secretly they were raising us to follow the old ways. We didn’t want to. I think that’s why Amy died.”

“I hope you mean that’s the reason you think she killed herself, and not that her mother murdered her because she refused to go witch-hunting. Grounding, yes. Cutting off her allowance, sure. But I ain’t buying murder.”

Roni shook her head. “No, Aunt Annette wouldn’t kill her own daughter. But I think someone in our family did kill Amy. There’s my aunt Rachel, too, and her daughter Chrissy. Chrissy did her tour two years ago and it wasn’t easy, so when Aunt Annette considered letting Amy and me get out of it, they really weren’t happy.”

“Your tour? Seriously. That’s what you call it? As in tour of duty? Or post-grad tour? See the country, kill a few witches . . .”

“I—”

“Whatever. So Amy dies and you decide to toe the line by letting your aunts send you to Columbus to off Tiffany Radu.”

“I didn’t kill Tiffany. I planned to. Kill her and get it over with. I heard the rumors. She was using her powers to help her husband’s white slave trade, and she probably helped him kill those girls when they wouldn’t go into slavery.”

“Because every slaver wants a couple of drug-addled party girls like Ginny Thompson and Brandi Degas. That illegal business Tiffany was helping him with? Importing cheap prescription drugs from Canada. A sleazy way to make money, but nothing anyone deserves to die for. Next time you want to justify murder, do your research. Of course, that could mean you lose your justification, so I can see why you didn’t.”

She flushed. “Okay, I was wrong about Tiffany, but I didn’t kill her. Like I said, I was going to. My aunts told me how. Sneak in while she napped and inject her with poison. But by that time, you’d come to town. I could tell you were a witch. I was curious, so I followed you around a bit. That’s all I did. Only my aunts found out and they ordered me to kill you, too. But you were trying to stop Tiffany and Cody, too. That’s when I decided I couldn’t go through with it.”

“Yet Tiffany still ends up dead. During her nap. Injected with poison.”

“Because that was their plan. They did it. I tried to talk to you at the hospital, but you blasted me right off my feet. Even in your sleep you knew I was there. So I took off. I found you again at the motel. I was trying to figure out how to tell you without getting attacked. When you came after me, I panicked again and ran.”

“And tried killing me in Seattle. Shoving me into traffic. Oh, wait. That wasn’t you. It was them.”

“Did you see me?” Her chin lifted. “Have you ever seen me trying to kill you? Did the nurse catch me doing something to you in the hospital? Were the cookies I brought poisoned? No. Someone is trying to kill you, but you have no proof it’s me. They want you to jump to that conclusion. They want you to kill me.”

“Right. Of course. Because if they kill me, I’ll kill you. I can come back as a ghost and haunt you to death. Good plan.”

She shook her head, shifting in her seat, frustrated by my refusal to buy into her perfectly rational story. “How did they kill Tiffany? Lethal dose of poison. Then they push you onto a busy street? What are the chances of you dying from that?”

“But I’m on to you. Tiffany wasn’t. Everything so far has failed, so you’re forced to resort to desperate measures. And if that fails, lure me to a meeting and lower my guard by appealing to my sympathetic side.” I leaned forward. “In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t have a sympathetic side.”

“Just listen—”

“I am listening. You didn’t kill Tiffany. Your evil relatives did. The same relatives who claim you’re the evil one, that you’re acting on your own. Who’s right?” I put my elbows on the table, getting close enough to see the flakes on her chapped lips. “I don’t give a shit. I have my own problems, and you’re the one most easily solved. Come near me again—for any reason—and I’ll swat you down. Understood?”

Her lips tightened. “It’s not me you need to worry about. You’ll see that soon enough. Maybe when you read my obituary.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure your folks aren’t going to pay for one.” I stood. “If we’re done here . . . ?”

She pushed back her chair, stood, and stalked out before I could leave.

“So what do you think?” I said to Adam as I drove us back to our motel.

“If you’re asking anyone’s opinion—even mine—you aren’t completely sure yourself. Same here. It smells like bullshit, but doesn’t stink any worse than the story her aunt gave us. I suspect the truth is caught in the middle. Unfortunately, so are you. Nothing you can do either way.”

“Just keep moving forward and watching my back.”

I’m sure he knew what I was thinking. If Veronica Tucker died, I’d blame myself. If another witch was murdered because of Veronica Tucker, I’d blame myself. If I focused on figuring out the truth here and, meanwhile, Jaime or Hope was targeted by that crazy bunch of activists, I’d blame myself. I’d pretty much bought myself a ticket to Guilt Island any way I turned.