The B&B is open. The ghosts have opinions about the curtains. And someone just got murdered on St. George Street.

Three months after inheriting a haunted Victorian B&B in St. Augustine, Jo Bellamy has figured out how to run a bed and breakfast with five dead residents, a contractor who measures time in units of "two weeks," and a chef who hasn't asked for a raise since the Clinton administration. Guests are booking. Reviews are good. The ghosts are mostly behaving. It's working.

Then a woman is shot in an alley on a Thursday night, and the police call it a robbery before her blood is dry.

Ken Lansing, the grieving husband who ordered his first good cup of coffee in thirty years the morning after his wife died—because she'd told him it was a waste of money.

Seloy, a five-hundred-year-old Timucua child ghost who watched the whole thing from the Plaza and remembers every word, including the ones Ken said to the man with the gun.

Ravenna, the poltergeist who has been waiting her entire afterlife for someone to ask her to do something that matters.

Jo has the truth. Ghost testimony from a witness who's been dead for five centuries. A cop studying for her detective exam who's willing to risk her career. A coffee shop owner who heard the gunshot and keeps showing up with croissants on Saturdays. And a poltergeist who can follow a man into every room he enters and make him feel watched until he breaks.

The problem isn't catching a killer. It's that Jo understands him. Thirty years of a woman who drank before noon and told him he was nothing. Thirty years and he never once raised his hand. He raised a phone instead, and called someone from a cruise ship bar.

Justice doesn't care about sympathy. Neither does Ravenna.