Next to her, Once Upon a Vine’s part-time employee Jules—short for Julia— stomped on Natalie’s foot while smiling for the camera.

That was enough to yank Natalie’s attention away from the large—as in large—crowd of people circling her as her mind turned to the pain in her foot.

But still she couldn’t help wondering. Were there even this many people living in this town? Was Lucy Sunshine so famous her fans had flocked here to see her? Maybe WBNG had bussed them in for the shot.

“Can you tell us what happened to you on that electrifying night last week?” the reporter repeated her question with her ever-present smile in place and her eyes on the camera lens.

“Uh…” That was all Natalie managed.

She probably looked like a deer in headlights as she too stared at the camera lens while trying to ignore the hoards that seemed to be closing in on her.

The crowd pressed closer, but Lucy Sunshine’s smile didn’t waver as she continued, “Two nights ago, during the storm predicted so accurately by our own precision weather forecaster Stormy Jones, you exited your shop and then what happened?”

The reporter had stopped talking again.

Panicked, Natalie shot her a sideways glance. Had there been a question in there? Oh, right. What happened. What had happened?

“Um…”

“Didn’t you, while you were outside of your shop in an attempt to rescue your cat and dog from the storm, sustain a severe electrocution when a downed power line hit the puddle you’d stepped in?”

“Not my cat. Or my dog,” she managed, realizing she was sounding like a crazy cat lady on TV.

Ignoring the mumbled comment, Lucy Sunshine forged ahead undaunted. “And according to the first-hand account of your employee, you were technically dead for approximately three and a half minutes. In fact, she reported to rescue workers upon their arrival that it was only the efforts of Doctor William Walsh, who had seen the incident occur and performed CPR to restart your heart, that enables you to be standing here with us today.”

“Hmph. I guess,” Natalie grunted begrudgingly since Doctor William Walsh had proven to be a self-centered a-hole.

But she couldn’t worry about him now as one of the onlookers, an elderly woman in an outfit that had to be vintage, reached out and touched her sleeve.

Natalie pulled her arms closer, closing in on herself protectively. Meanwhile, some of the onlookers had started to mumble among themselves.

The din surrounding her grew louder.

Why wasn’t the crew asking them all to stand back and be quiet? And why were these people so interested in her anyway?

“Dr. Walsh was unavailable for comment. Probably out there saving more lives,” Lucy Sunshine said directly to the camera. “So there you have it, folks. A tragedy averted thanks to one good Samaritan. Remember to watch WBNG for the most accurate storm reports and avoid those puddles. This is Lucy Sunshine. Have a sunshiny day.”

“And come to Once Upon a Vine for ten percent off a bottle of wine with any book purchase,” Jules shouted that rapid fire promo offer toward the camera while leaning in front of Natalie.

“And we’re out,” one crew member said.

The on-air smile gone, Lucy Sunshine of WBNG shot Natalie a distinctly judgmental glare before strutting toward the news van.

That censure was probably meant to shame Natalie for being such a bad interviewee, but she couldn’t worry about that. The press of people around her was becoming unbearable.

Meanwhile, Jules was speaking to her. Something about how the reporter could have talked about the shop more, but at least she’d be able to post the interview on their social media.

Natalie was only partially listening as the crowd parted and an attractive, middle-aged man possibly in his late forties, maybe early fifties, stepped directly in front of her. He was so close that his nose was barely a few inches away from hers as he stared directly into her face.

He was dressed in light brown cargo pants and over a blue shirt with its sleeves rolled to the elbows he wore a vest that had at least as many pockets as his pants. Completing the outfit were hiking boots and an Indiana Jones-type hat from beneath which intense blue eyes peered at her.

With forty breathing down her neck while she was woefully single, she wasn’t opposed to dating an older man, especially an attractive one, but this aggressiveness on his part was too much.

Even if the most male-female action she’d gotten in far too long was the annoying but hot doctor giving her CPR while she’d been dead, she didn’t go for pushy men. This guy was being just that.

Tired of wondering what was going on and even more tired of having her personal space invaded, she took a single step back as she said, “Can I help you?”

His eyes widened. “Oh my God. She can see us!” He’d directed the last part of his statement to the crowd behind him. A cheer went up through those assembled.

Meanwhile, Jules replied to Natalie’s question meant for the stranger, “Thanks. I don’t need help. I’ll just go see if they can email the link for the interview to me, then I’ll post it.”

“I need your help,” the man said, stepping closer again as Jules headed in the opposite direction, leaving Natalie alone in this disturbing encounter.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“I’m Gabe. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I was murdered and you’re the only person who can help me find who did it.”

Her mouth opened in realization. “Oh. Is this some sort of murder mystery book club? You’re going to have to get on the calendar if you want to meet here.”

If they all attended the meeting, she’d have to arrange for more chairs. The other book clubs only had a handful of attendees. She had to wonder how this club attracted so many members.

And they were really dedicated too. Now that she looked closer, quite a few of them appeared to be in costume, dressed in clothing from different eras. A few even sported fake injuries. An axe in the head. A bloody slit throat. A gunshot wound to the chest.

She needed to expand the murder mystery section and advertise to these people. She’d known mystery and thriller was a big market but apparently the genre had truly enthusiastic fans.

“This is not a book club. I was murdered!” Gabe said with feeling.

“Okay, okay. Fine. I’ll play along, but the meeting room is booked for today—”

“Look at me!” he shouted then spun around to reveal a literal knife in his back.

“Good prop. We’re going to have to plan something with you guys at the shop for Halloween. Maybe a murder mystery party. Jules, do you see this?”

“Sorry, Nat. Are you talking to me?” At Jules’s confused question, Natalie glanced over and saw her employee was still off to the side talking to one of the crew.

“Never mind. We’ll talk later.” She turned back to the guy. “Do you have a card or something?”

“Lady, I don’t know what you don’t understand. I’m dead. We’re all dead.” He circled one finger to indicate the rest of the crowd.

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. You’re dead. Look I respect your method acting or whatever but—”

With a frustrated groan the man walked directly at her. And then through her, leaving in his wake a tingling that she had to admit wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

Frowning, she spun around to face Gabe in his new position behind her. “Do that again.”

With a pronounced eye roll he did, saying as he walked through her, “Do you believe me now?”

She spun again to face him. “No. But I do believe I have some kind of residual brain damage from the other night—”

“Nat—Oh, sorry. Are you on the phone?” Jules whispered the last part, visibly looking for said phone.

“No.” Natalie held up both hands to show there was no cell.

“You’re not talking on Bluetooth?” Jules asked, pointing to her own ear.

“No.”

Jules shook her head. “Then who were you talking to just now?”

Natalie shifted her gaze to Gabe whose raised eyebrows had a distinct I-told-you-so tilt to them.

“So you don’t see a man standing in front of me. Or a whole bunch of other people all around us?” she asked.

“No,” Jules answered slowly, drawing out the word.

Natalie drew in a breath, accepting the truth. “I definitely have to see a doctor.”

An MRI should do it. Or a CT scan or whatever they used to look at brain damage.

With another deep frustrated groan, Gabe pivoted and strode directly through Jules.

The girl’s body jolted.

She shivered, frowning. “What the hell? I just got this really weird chill. Almost like a low voltage shock.”

That was exactly how Natalie felt when Gabe had walked through her.

Her heart pounding, breathing seemed to become harder as the evidence became impossible to ignore.

He said he was dead. He’d walked through her and through Jules. They’d both felt it.

What did that mean?

She wasn’t dead, was she? She didn’t think so, even if that interview had felt like a scene straight out of hell.

So if she wasn’t dead. But Gabe was. That meant…

Unable to draw air into her lungs, Natalie pressed one hand to her chest and bent at the waist to fight the wave of dizziness.

“Nat. You okay?”

“No.”

“Do you need a doctor? I’ll call 9-1-1. Ooo. Better yet, let me get that hottie doctor who brought you back to life.”

As the Gen Z girl whipped out her ever-present cell phone Natalie held up one hand to stop her. “No. Don’t.”

If she didn’t want to end up in the psych ward at Binghamton General, she needed to figure this thing out before getting EMTs or the sheriff or anyone else with any authority and the ability to commit her involved.

And as for the hot doctor… She really didn’t want that mean, rude, self-centered grump helping her with anything.

Straightening, she shot Ghost Gabe a glance and then focused on Jules. “I don’t want you to panic, but I think I see dead people.”