I heard the tinkle of the little bells on my shop door and wiped my dirty hands on my apron.

"Be right there!" I called, stepping over bags of dirt. "I'm just getting everybody ready for the big spring sale coming up, and I..."

There he was, Officer Miles Denton, standing in my doorway with the sun behind him, a silhouette that dizzied me and dried my mouth. I stopped dead in my tracks.

"Maddie."

"Miles."

"I just came by to check in."

"On me? Or on all the other Perry Street shenanigans?"

"Little bit of both."

"Cup of tea?"

"Please."

I busied myself, frantically fretting over what kind of tea would work best. I mean, be best. For Him. I grabbed my trusty green. The caffeine and L-theanine in green or black tea help in concentration, focus.

I needed him to focus, here.

He made himself at home, wandering through the plants, touching some, smelling others. I kept track of his progress out of the corner of my eye. When the tea was ready and I'd splayed a few shortbread cookies on a plate, he made his way back and sat down. He reached out to touch Phil, who now held a special place smack in the center of my tea table.

"I'm thinking," he started, but then he stopped, cleared his throat, tasted the tea. He blew over it. "I'm thinking maybe, since you've lived here, worked here for years, and I'm still trying to find my way around, that maybe you could help me out."

"Isn't that what I just did?"

The sparkle smile came at me fast and furious.

"Well, yes, professionally speaking. And thank you again for that."

"The autopsy?" I said. "Was that true about the report and the timing?"

"Nah. Well, I guess it could be, but the report was vague on time of death. Mrs. Peterson just needed to stop blaming herself." He took another sip. "But I'm not here to talk about the case of the missing bracelet."

"Oh, sorry, that's me. Always interrupting. They tell me I have a problem with linear thinking. Whatever that is. I should drink more of this." I laughed. I took a sip of the green, silently telling myself to shut up, shut up, shut up.

His eyes were drilling into me then, and I did. Shut up, I mean.

"I'd like to thank you for that professional help by having you as a guest at my place. I'd like to make dinner for you some night. Soon."

"Ah, the cop turns chef!"

I save the stupid words for important moments. It's what I do.

"Saturday, if you can close a little early?" His eyelashes were curtains of black, and my mind suddenly went to the dream. The dream about him looking through those curtained windows, into the darkness where the skyclad coven waited with candles.

"Maddie?"

"Oh! Oh, well that sounds great, Miles! I'd love that, sure!" I gave him my smile that I practice for selfies in the mirror but was pretty sure it was a goofy rendition of it.

"The dream bags you made?" he said, and my heart just about did an Esther Sena. "Did you have any dreams other than the ones you and Hannah told me about? The troll, which was cute, by the way, and then the one where Mrs. Peterson is walking with Harry Sena. But were there any others?"

"Oh, maybe one or two," I said with a shrug. "I forget to get up and write them all down, though, and they get all jumbly in my head." I didn't want to ruin this whole I'm-going-to-his-house feeling by talking about candlelight and naked witches. But then I had a thought.

"How about you?" I asked. "Did you actually take my bag and sleep on it?" I leaned forward, my mouth just a little bit open in anticipation.

He leaned over the table, over Phil's shiny leaves, just as quick as my favorite rollercoaster the Jack Rabbit, and for one stupid moment I thought he was going to plant a kiss smack on my lips. Everything inside me just went whoosh. But then, just as fast, like if the rollercoaster attendant realized something was wrong and had to shut down the ride, he leaned back into his seat. Just like that.

There was an awkward but charged silence, and thank the gods for Sedona, because she chose that moment to trounce into the room.

"You've got to be kitten me," she said, blinking first at me then at Miles. "What in the..."

"Sedona! I didn't hear you come in. Cream?" I stood up when she nodded, but her eyes were fastened on Miles.

"I have two stories for you," she said. I stopped pouring the cream into her saucer.

"I said two," she said.

I poured again until the saucer was almost brimming over.

"What's the first story?" I asked.

She looked up, saw the cream I was holding, and licked her lips. I gave her the stink eye and she sighed.

"Well, Esther spoke to me again. This time in a dream, thanks to your little bag of weeds."

"And?"

"She wants that Hester woman to just keep the silly bracelet. Seems Monday was Hester and Harry's anniversary of their first date. Ha! Esther waits 'til after she's dead to get all philanthropic. Sappy, even." She eyed the saucer again.

"Good one," I said, and Miles and I smiled at each other.

"And the second story?" Miles asked.

"I was just upstairs on two," she said.

"Ah," said Miles. "Scene of the crime. What's new up there?"

"Well, I went up, you know, to collect on the fresh tuna Esther told me, post mortem, if you'll remember, that she wanted me to have. Yellowfin, yet. Perfect timing, because her door was open, and it turns out Esther has visitors from Brooklyn. They're up there going through her things, pawing through her drawers and such. Nice women. Apparently both cat lovers. They couldn't keep their hands off me." She stopped, knowing she had our full attention. "They found the tuna, smelled it, and apparently didn't trust it, so they gave it all to me. Ha! Silly women. Didn't even check the date on the wrapper." She took a moment to lick her front right paw. Then she used it to clean behind her right ear.

"Sedona!" I said. "Spill! Who are they?"

She looked up and licked her lips.

"Cream please!" she said.

"Not until you spill." At this, I actually did spill a bit of cream. Sedona's eye shot down to the floor and before I knew it she was lapping up the drops. I clenched my teeth.

"I'm not sure you're going to like my spill, Maddie," she finally said when all the drops of cream were gone.

Miles and I looked at each other, then back at her.

"Seems they found Esther Sena's will in her underwear drawer," Sedona went on. "They were pleased with most of it, and if I was hearing correctly, they're the granddaughters. Esther skipped right over her own children and left most of her money and belongings to them."

"Well, I guess that's her prerogative," I said, thinking of my dad. "Maybe I should go up and introduce myself." I looked at the broom clock, wondering if I could get away with closing up for a few minutes.

"That's exactly what I would suggest," said Sedona. "Because there was another person named in the will. The person who has been left a significant portion of Esther Sena's estate. This building, in fact." Sedona stopped staring at the cream in my hand and smiled at me.

"It's funny, really," she said, her tail flicking. "They're shaking their heads over the will and one says to the other, 'Who in the world is Madeline Brooklyn Bridges?'"