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“I trust you’ll like this lot, boys. You’re unlikely to need your weapons. Of course, that will disappoint one or two of you.” Arnora smirked over her glasses at her handsome sons. “I have, for your reading pleasure, one missing person, a disturbance at an archaeological site, a bit of detective work and run-of-the-mill ghost busting.”

Arnora dramatically fanned five envelopes on the table. Sprinkling a bit of her magical power of suggestion onto the ornately sealed assignments with an intricate gesture over each, she then tapped them with a long, manicured nail. She knew her dramatic gesture would make her eldest son, Trent, seethe in annoyance. I love the lad so much, but it’s amusing to watch him boil. I’m doing this for your own good, my bonnie prince.

The brothers sipped their dark beer in silent challenge, waiting for the inevitable complaint from Trent. They didn’t wait long.

“Damn. I was really hoping to kill or be killed this time.” Trent scowled openly at his mother, sitting back in a childish pout, arms across his chest.

Arnora sniffed in amusement. “For that, you go first, Trent.”

“It doesn’t matter, does it? I never fail to get the awful one. Why don’t you just hand me the worst and be done with it?”

Jorund elbowed Trent. “Grow up. I think you’ve milked the Linda incident a bit too long.” A hush fell over the group as the unmentionable name echoed in the air, hovering like a dragonfly, sparkling in magic and then flitting away. Jorund hung his head. “Sorry, mate, that was rude. Didn’t realize it still…” He gestured helplessly to the shimmering air where Trent’s pain and anger had materialized.

Harry reached passed Trent and grabbed an envelope. Arnora nodded in gratitude. Leave it to Harry to rescue the moment. “Drum roll please.” Harry tore the end off, blew into it and pulled out the assignment. His eyes grew wide. “Rio! A resort in Rio. ‘Suspicion of embezzlement’. Boooring. Nice setting, though. Hmm, if my memory serves me correctly, Mardi Gras is upon us.”

“See? That’s what I mean!” Trent took a sip of his beer and glared now at Harry.

Each brother retrieved an envelope in turn. Jorund howled in laughter as he read his assignment. “Delia Mason wants to communicate with her dead poodle? Isn’t she an old movie star? Well, well, never been to LA.”

Arnora wagged her finger at Jorund. “Just break it to her gently. There’s no charge; she’s fallen on hard times and I think she’s on the dole. She was so distraught I didn’t have the heart to say ‘no’ over the phone. Help her let go, all right? I’ll expect you back in a few days.”

Bjorn rubbed his unshaven chin and turned to Trent. “I think I drew the short straw this time, boyo. Missing girl, age six. Cleveland, Ohio.” The group sobered a bit. Trent blew out a deep sigh and cast a sideways glance at his mother. She smiled sadly. “That is the worst of the lot, Bjorn, but you are the man for the job, no doubt.”

He acknowledged her trust with a serious inclination of his head. “They are the worst—the children. I only remember one that ended happily—the lost scout Harry found. The rest turn up in ditches and abandoned cabins. What kind of place is Cleveland?”

“The kind of place where someone might kidnap a young girl and kill her. No better or worse than anywhere on Earth.”

Arnora felt a waft of shame pour through Trent. He knew he was being childish, brooding, needy, but only time would heal the wound named Linda. And perhaps a little Key West magic, she thought.

Eirik held up his envelope and threw the final one in Trent’s lap before opening his own. “Sweet! Mexico. ‘Professor St. John Twaine requires assistance removing spirits from two archaeological sites’. Sounds like fun to me. All right, Trent, I’ll make you a deal. If you don’t like yours, I’ll trade.”

Trent read his assignment, folded it back into the envelope without comment and abandoned his family for a stool at the bar.

Arnora sighed deeply. “It’s the girl.”

“He’s been over that for ages,” Eirik disagreed.

Harry shook his head. “Wrong as usual. If you hadn’t noticed, and I don’t know how it’s possible to miss, big brother has a problem with women.”

Eirik snorted. “I wish I had his problems with women. Trying to shake them off—that’s a problem?”

“Trying to love one. Mother’s right. Trent still blames himself for Linda’s death, and I think he always will. But we all know he isolated himself before that.”

“Come on, that’s soap-opera stuff. You’re always the shrink, Harry. You missed your calling.”

“I love him. Get over your petty jealousy, lad, and show some compassion.” Harry followed Trent to the bar and wedged himself in close to him.

“Shut up, Harry.”

“Didn’t say a word.”

“You piss me off, Harry. Rio. Bloody hell.”

“Where to, Trent?” Harry patted his brother on the back.

“Bloody Key West.”

“What’s wrong with Key West? Isn’t that the seaside party town? I hear it’s rather charming. Jimmy Buffet and all that nonsense?”

“I don’t know.” Trent sniffed out a weak laugh. “Actually, I don’t know a thing about it. ‘Four spirits to be removed from the bed and breakfast of Molly Calloway. Discretion essential’. Arnora’s given me a sap’s job. Let sensitive Vortrent lick his wounds in a tourist town.”

“You underestimate her, Trent. You underestimate yourself. There will be something to it, I’ll wager.”

“I’ll take that wager.”

“Speaking of ‘take’, I need someone to watch Guinness. Don’t want to take him all the way to Rio. We’ll all be gone at the same time for a change. Arnora’s going away as well.”

“Oh hell, Harry, again? Why do you stick me with him every time? Get a real pet next time, rather than creating one on your own. Why can’t he go to Cleveland with Bjorn?”

“Because I trust him with you. He likes you, and I think you like him despite your endless complaining.”

“Tell him he’s got to be something rather normal this time. I don’t think a leopard’s going to blend in well in Key West.”

“You never know. I’ve heard stories about that town. In any case, you’re good at the ghost thing. This should be a snap for you. You’ll be back in a few days.”

“You’re selling this assignment hard, Harry. Arnora dosed the assignments, you saw it. She handpicked this one for me. She’ll never give me a case where anyone can get hurt, like Linda did.”

“People get hurt in our line of work. You have to get past this. In any case, Mum doesn’t use strong magic on us. It’s more the luck of the draw.”

Trent drained his mug and punched Harry in the shoulder. “Sure, whatever you say. Tell your pet to be at my place early in the morning.”

Harry watched Trent leave the pub and rejoined his family.

Arnora winked at him. “He’ll be fine. Now if you’ll excuse me, fellas, I have a date.”

Harry snorted in laughter. “Which one?”

She surveyed the bar and wagged a finger along the line of single men until she settled on a handsome brunette. “He’ll do just fine. Anyone know his name?”

Not waiting for the answer, Arnora slid out of her chair, fluffed her hair and began her own magical evening.