‘You could look on the bright side,’ I suggested to Clare. ‘At least they’re getting on with their lives. They’re not wallowing in misery or letting grief ruin what’s left of their days. In fact, they might not even know that you’re dead.’

She wrinkled her nose as if I were spouting nonsense, probably because I was.

‘Yeah, screw that,’ I said. ‘They’re bastards who never deserved you in the first place.’ At least that raised a small smile.

Winter cleared his throat. ‘I’m going to hope that’s Clare and that she can tell you there’s a spare key hidden somewhere.’

‘Under the flowerpot,’ she muttered.

I pointed down. Winter bent over and retrieved it. Clare watched him with a downturned expression until he put the key in the lock and sudden fear flashed across her face. ‘What is it?’ I demanded. ‘Clare? What’s wrong?’

Winter froze.

‘I live alone. I’ve had other things on my mind and I’d forgotten that I was in a rush before I left for the last time. I think my dirty underwear might be strewn across the floor.’

I gave her a wise nod. ‘It’s the best place for it,’ I agreed. ‘You just have to be careful to keep it in localised piles otherwise you can trip on a loose bra strap in the middle of the night, go flying and end up in casualty with several contusions and a broken tibia.’ I paused. ‘Or so I’ve heard.’

‘I don’t want him to see my smalls!’ Clare half yelled.

‘Huh?’ I glanced at Winter. Oh. ‘Don’t worry. We virtually live together now. He’s seen much worse from me.’

‘Ivy, please. Just let me check. There has to be something sacred left to me. I have to have some privacy.’ Her panic was so palpable that there was nothing I could do but nod.

‘Wait, Rafe,’ I said softly. Clare stepped through the door, her spectral form passing through its solid oak veneer as if it were air. ‘Clare just needs to check on something.’

Winter gave me a confused frown but he did as I asked and took his hand from the door.

‘There’s not much dignity in death,’ I said, doing what I could to explain. ‘Clare won’t be on a metal table with her body exposed to uncaring eyes. She won’t be in a battered locker or jiggled around in a coffin. But that doesn’t mean that the next days aren’t going to involve strangers rooting through her life and passing judgment.’

‘She can’t stop that from happening, Ivy,’ he said. ‘And she can’t throw away any embarrassing pornography or secret letters or anything like that. She can’t physically touch anything.’

I stroked his arm. ‘She knows that. I think she just wants a moment to herself to come to terms with it.’ I raised my eyebrows. ‘Where are your embarrassing pornography and secret letters? You might as well tell me now before I stumble across them post-mortem.’ Winter rolled his eyes and snorted. I grinned. ‘You can find mine hidden at the bottom of…’

Clare’s head emerged from the door with wide-eyed alarm. ‘Ivy! Something is wrong!’

I whipped round towards her. There was a panicked note to her voice that went beyond anything I’d previously heard from her, something that suggested dire straits and horrendous consequences. Almost unconsciously, my arm shot out in front of Winter as if to protect him from what might be about to happen while I waited for Clare to explain.

‘There’s something strange attached to the door,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what it is and I definitely didn’t put it there. Someone has been inside my house and has messed around.’ Her voice rose further. ‘In my home, Ivy.’

Whatever she was talking about, it didn’t sound good. ‘Take a deep breath, Clare.’ As soon as I said it, I realised how silly it was telling a ghost to breathe but Clare didn’t seem to notice. Her hands had now also emerged through the solid door and were fluttering around in increasingly frantic movements. ‘Stay calm and tell me exactly what you see.’

‘It was that bastard, wasn’t it? The one who killed us. He’s been here. He’s messed with my stuff. He’s rooted through my things and seen everything there is to know about me. It wasn’t enough that he killed me and my entire coven, he’s taken my home and my life too!’

‘Clare,’ I soothed. ‘It’s okay. Just tell me what you can see. What’s on the door?’

She rubbed her face with both hands. ‘A wire.’

I nodded. ‘Okay, good. There’s a wire,’ I repeated aloud for Winter’s benefit. ‘Where is the wire exactly?’

Clare’s head disappeared momentarily as she went to check. ‘It starts at the bottom.’ She gestured to about a foot off the ground. ‘It runs horizontally from here to here,’ she said, motioning to either side of the door frame. ‘Then it stretches up to the top here.’ She indicated with her finger. ‘And there’s something hanging there. It looks like…’ She hesitated and stared at me.

‘Looks like what?’

Clare’s eyes were wide. ‘Like a grenade.’

I did my best to keep my feet planted in one spot and not go sprinting as far away as possible. Turning to Winter, I outlined what Clare had described. He nodded grimly. ‘It’s a tiger trap. The second we open the door the grenade will fall and—’

‘Kaboom,’ I finished for him.

‘Body parts everywhere,’ Clare breathed.

I grimaced. ‘I imagine so.’

‘You and him will be blasted apart. It’ll be impossible to tell which bits belong to you and which bits belong to him. There will be fragments of flesh and blood and bone and—’

‘Alright!’ I said overly loudly. ‘Thank you, Clare.’ Winter lifted a questioning eyebrow. I made a point of ignoring it. I already had vivid visuals running through my mind; I didn’t need to compound the issue by describing them out loud. ‘Is there another way in?’ I asked.

‘No.’ She paused. ‘Security is very important to me. I always made sure I lived somewhere with only one entrance. Otherwise someone might have been able to sneak in when I wasn’t looking and…’ She faltered.

Booby-trap her front door with a damn grenade, perhaps? I shook my head in disbelief. Enchantment made more sense than this. It was as if I’d somehow fallen into a Hollywood set – except I was no Sly Stallone.

‘I need to tell the police. And the Order,’ Winter said. ‘If Clare Rees’s house is booby-trapped then the others probably will be too.’

I straightened up. ‘Yes! Get the bomb squad here to deal with this. We can check into a hotel and leave them to it.’

‘Don’t be silly, Ivy,’ he said. ‘We can go round the back and find another way in.’

Uh-oh. The bad, squirmy feeling caused by the suggestion of blown-apart body bits began to intensify. No doubt Winter was going to suggest some convoluted ninja-esque entry. ‘But Clare said there’s only one door.’

A smile crooked up the corner of his mouth. ‘Ivy Wilde wouldn’t let a small thing like a door get in her way.’

You wanna bet? I opened my mouth to argue but Clare’s dejected face stopped me. ‘Fine,’ I grumbled. ‘But when my teeth are being picked out of your splattered brain matter, don’t come crying to me.’

***

Clare didn’t have any garden to speak of but there was a handy alleyway running down the back of the row of houses. It was surprisingly well kept; I guessed that, like her, her neighbours were concerned with appearances and were houseproud. There is nothing wrong with that, of course. Cleanliness is next to godliness, whatever that means. But the trouble with that sort of approach to life is that it never ends. Yes, you can take time to pick the weeds from the pavement outside and scrub your skirting board and make sure there’s no dust collecting in any evil corners but you had to keep on doing it. If I had to do it all this week and then again next week and then the week after that, why not just leave it till next month? Or preferably next year?

Winter put his phone away. ‘What are you huffing about?’