Secondhand store owner Sarah Grayson and her affectionate rescue cat, Elvis, will scare up a few leads to find a killer in the newest installment of this captivating New York Times bestselling series.   After a long, cold, and snowy winter, it seems as though spring may be arriving early in Maine. Sarah Grayson is busy at her store, Second Chance, and she’s looking forward to an afternoon break from the hustle and bustle, tagging along to the North Harbor Spring House Tour with her friend Detective Michelle Andrews.   But it turns out one of the houses has a haunted history, and when a ghost hunter is found dead on the premises, Sarah knows the best way to uncover the killer/to solve the mystery is by investigating the not-so-dearly departed. With help from Elvis and Charlotte’s Angels, the crew of senior citizen private detectives who work out of the store, she’ll close the case on this creepy crime. Sofie Ryan is the author of the New York Times bestselling Second Chance Cat Mysteries. She also writes the New York Times bestselling Magical Cats Mysteries under the name Sofie Kelly. Chapter 1 Elvis had left the building, or to be more specific, our apartment. He headed down the hall toward Rose Jackson's apartment, walking with his usual swagger. "Don't eat too much and spoil your supper," I called after him. The only answer I got was a flick of his tail, appropriate since he was a sleek black cat with a long scar across his nose and not the King of Rock and Roll, although he sometimes had the attitude that he was some kind of rock royalty. Elvis was going to spend the afternoon with Rose and act as a taste tester for the treats she was making for Matilda, the little amber-colored corgi that belonged to our next-door neighbor Tom. Matilda had a birthday coming up and Rose believed that every birthday deserved cake or the equivalent, whether you were a person, a cat, or a dog. Elvis and Matilda weren't exactly friends. They tolerated each other at best, but weren't above teaming up against any creature they perceived to be an interloper in their territory, human or otherwise. I heard Rose's apartment door open. "You're right on time," she said to Elvis. "Mrrr," he said. He disappeared inside and Rose poked her head around the doorframe. She was barely five feet tall with short white hair and kind gray eyes. She was one of my grandmother's oldest friends so I'd known her all my life. "Have fun, sweetie," she said. "I want to hear all about the inside of the Walker house when you get back." "I will shamelessly peek in every corner," I promised. I was heading out on a spring house tour with my friend Michelle Andrews. The fundraiser was a chance to look inside some of the beautiful old homes in town and support the local animal shelter. I liked to poke around in old places in general and I was always looking for creative ways to reuse and display items at Second Chance, my repurpose store. Michelle had been quick to say yes to joining me on the tour. She was currently house-hunting, but after looking at several places, she'd come to the conclusion that she was going to have to buy a fixer-upper, so she was interested in seeing what had been done in other renovations. My own house, an 1860s Victorian, had been a fixer-upper. It was located in downtown North Harbor only a few blocks from the waterfront. The houses on the street were a mix of styles and there were lots of tall, leafy trees. It was quiet, but the neighbors were friendly. Something about this part of town had felt like home from the first time I turned down the street. The house hadn't been kept up by the previous owner, who hadn't even lived in town. The building had looked shabby and neglected but my dad and my brother, Liam, had poked around and concluded the house had good bones. Liam had discovered that the ancient furnace was on its last legs, and the seller had taken several thousand dollars off the purchase price, which made it an even better deal. After a lot of work the house had turned into the home I had hoped it would be. Elvis and I lived in one of the main floor apartments; Rose had the other one; and my grandmother and her husband, John, lived in the second-floor unit. All of that togetherness hadn't seemed like it should work but it did. Gram and Rose were both easy to get along with. Neither one of them kept their opinions to themselves, but neither one was offended if I didn't take their advice. And they were both excellent cooks. In fact, I had my fingers crossed that Rose would make more than dog and cat treats this afternoon. I stepped outside into a beautiful, sunny afternoon. The trees were bare but the snow was gone, and the wind that had blown for the past three days and felt as though it had come from somewhere north of Labrador had finally died down. After a long, cold and very snowy winter it looked as though spring might be arriving early. North Harbor is located on the midcoast of