Mahogany sat at the kitchen table, stirring a mug of hot cocoa gone cold while she stared at the table's wood grain, her eyes unfocused. She's spent three hours in the museum's basement with Detective Sawyer monitoring her as she scoured the finding aids for any mention of the anelace. The search hadn't yielded anything, but that hadn't deterred the detective.

"If being a detective has taught me anything, most searches turn up very little at first. Perseverance is the key," Sawyer had said as she handed the thick stack of files to Mahogany.

"Terrific," Mahogany said. "I guess that means we'll spend lots of time together."

Sawyer gave Mahogany a smile that stopped just below her eyes.

Mahogany sighed and sipped her cold cocoa, and cringed. She went to the microwave and reheated her drink. Neema entered the kitchen as the microwave beeped.

"What do you say we go get some ice cream or maybe grab a pizza from Tipsy's?" Neema's eyes shimmered with sympathy and hope, but all Mahogany saw was pity in the older woman's blue eyes.

"I'm not very hungry." She took a sip of her rewarmed cocoa, which tasted like cardboard. She turned and dumped it into the sink and set the mug with a clatter on the counter.

Guy sat on the kitchen island and swung his legs through one of the barstools next to the breakfast bar. "Do you want me to mess with him? I could pull out all the stops haunting him. Moaning, footsteps, rattling chains." Guy said, referencing his newfound talents for poltergeist activity. Since becoming a ghost several months ago, Guy's ability to affect his environment had grown stronger.

Mahogany gazed at Guy, unsure if he was joking. She tilted her head to one side and considered his offer. "That's very sweet, but no. I'm not sure Tony deserves the attention."

Neema leaned against the counter opposite Guy. "What are you going to do about Tony and his surprise fiancée?"

"Ignore it till it goes away," Mahogany said, her chest tightening. "Why didn't he ever mention her?"

"I don't know. Maybe things did get away from him, as he said." Neema went to Mahogany and rubbed her back. "Breaking off an engagement can be difficult. Perhaps he thought you would judge him."

The ache in Mahogany's chest traveled to her head, grabbed the back of her skull, and squeezed. She understood how these sorts of topics could get away from one. She had thought the same about her and Tony's failed date. Mahogany wished she had a mom to talk to. Mahogany moved away from Neema's hand and positioned herself, so her back was against the refrigerator. Her boot heel caught on the lip of one of the kitchen tiles, and she stumbled.

"I wouldn't have. I mean, I would have been a bit surprised." She shook her head. "I didn't think he was a liar."

Neema dropped her hand and gazed sadly at Mahogany. "You need to see Brian O'Malley and get that shoe fixed before you break your ankle."

"I will, but I have other things to think about first."

****

With Bazgul perched on her shoulder, Mahogany ducked under the crime scene tape and made a silent dash through the shadows to the clock tower's door.

"How are you going to get in?" Guy said, floating next to her. "There's no mail slot to send Bazgul thorough." Above them, the clock tower knelled three times, alerting the sleeping town of the hour. Somewhere, a dog barked, raising the alarm. Several more errant barkers joined in before quieting again.

"I have it on good authority that Matt was as forgetful as a drunk on Mardi Gras, and he kept a key hidden," Mahogany said, peering around the area for potential hiding places.

"Good authority from whom?" Guy asked, frowning.

"Neema mentioned it before I left. Where were you, anyway? You've been disappearing a lot lately."

Guy gave a noncommittal shrug but didn't offer any insight.

Mahogany shook her hand. "Help me search."

"What are we looking for?"

"Hollow rocks, flower pots, statues, something that could hide a key."

They surveyed the area near the clock tower's entrance. Bric-a-brac littered the narrow garden space running the perimeter of the building. Several lawn gnomes, ornate pots brimming with flowers, and discarded trinkets gleamed in the yellow street lights.

Guy began rummaging his hands through objects, searching for a key while Mahogany lifted foliage in the many pots.

"Over here," Guy said, his head half-buried in a cracked teapot turned planter where a collection of tiny succulents grew. "In the spout."

Mahogany caught a glimpse of something shiny just past the mouth of the teapot's spout. With care, she removed a small brass skeleton key.

"Figures. Matt loved tea." Mahogany unlocked the clock tower door and slipped inside.

At the center of the large, circular room sat a table with a scale model of Pandemonium. A set of stairs hugged the far wall, spiraling up to a platform several stories to where the clock's mechanism lived. To the left, a door led to offices where the clock tower committee conducted business.

Bazgul leaped from Mahogany's shoulder onto the scale model, appearing like a movie monster attacking a small 1950s village.

Mahogany ran her fingertips over the model, remembering the school field trip to the clock tower as a child. Matt had been here then, educating the kids on Pandemonium's history, the clock's importance, and its chimes' significance.

She closed her eyes and thought back. What had Matt said about the clock's chimes? It had something to do with how the clock rang the bells. If it just rang in the hour, there was nothing to fear. The town was safe. If it played a tune, then trouble was coming.

In all the centuries the tower has stood, only twice had the tune played, alerting the residents to take cover. Mahogany's eyes opened. That was why Matt was so up in arms about changing how and when the clock tolled.

"Earth to Mahogany," Guy said, waving his hand in front of Mahogany's face. "I said, what are we here for?"

"Oh, sorry." Mahogany reached into her pocket and retrieved a crumpled piece of paper. As she unfolded it, words appeared.

"What's an echo chronograph?" Guy asked, reading over Mahogany's shoulder.

"I'm not sure," Mahogany said, her brow knitting together, "but I'm sure it's this way." She headed to the door where the offices lay.

The space reached ahead in a long rectangle that ended in another door. A long table ran down the middle of the room, filled with file folders and various stacks of paper. Near the door sat a small desk with a phone and a lamp, but nothing else. Along the wall, behind the desk, stood several filing cabinets.

"Look around here for something that isn't normal," Mahogany said, heading to the door at the far end of the room.

"Define normal," Guy said as he peered around the office.

"Chrono means time, and an echo is a residue of something from the past. Maybe a clock that remembers stuff?"

"Like a day planner?" Guy said, his voice skeptical.

"Yeah, but does it in a magical way." Mahogany grasped the doorknob and turned. The door opened without issue. She sighed with relief and gazed into the room without entering.

Each office wall held a bookshelf jam-packed with books, making the tight space even smaller. An oaken desk took up a large section of the room, the top of which was loaded with high stacks of papers. A dark stain on the floor near the desk's far corner showed where Matt had fallen after being struck by his assailant.

Mahogany took a deep breath and stepped into the office, her heart sinking. Behind the mountain of paperwork sat around ten cocks of various sizes. Was one of these the echo chronograph, and if so, which?

"Guy, I think I found the mystic day planner and all of its friends," Mahogany called over her shoulder.

"Friends? What are you talking about?" Guy floated through one of the bookshelves and hovered next to Mahogany.

"Oh, friends. I get it. Good joke," he said and playfully punched Mahogany in the arm. His fist went through her bicep, and she shivered.

"You need to stop doing that," she said, irritation lacing her tone as she rubbed the chill from her arm.

"Sorry, old habit." Guy gazed at the desk. "Where do we start? Should we take them all with us?"

"Could do, but I think the detective would miss ten clocks. "Let's see which one might be our mark. What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're sinking." Mahogany watched as Guy sank into the floor. "You usually pass through walls, but not the floor."

Guy looked down. "Well, that's odd. There's a space here, like a trap door."

"Take a peek. Is there a clock in it?"

"Good idea." Guy got onto his knees and stuck his head through the heavy Persian carpet and into the hidden compartment beneath it. "No clock, but there is an accounting book." Guy's muffled voice reached Mahogany's ears. "Which is nearly as odd as a secret door in the floor."

"An accounting book?" Mahogany's interest was piqued. Why on earth would someone hide something like that in the floor? Did it have something to do with Matt's murder? Mahogany shook her head. No, she didn't care what was under there. She had come for the echo chronograph, not solve a murder.

"If there's no clock, I don't care. Now get up here and help me search."

They headed around the desk, and Mahogany caught another chill. "This is where Matt was murdered." She peered into the shadows cast by the street lamps seeping through a high window in the office wall.

"You have fond memories of him," Guy said, his eyes growing soft as he gazed at Mahogany.

Mahogany pulled her gaze from the gray floor and back to the task, ignoring Guy's comment. "Where to start?"

"These are old, like, really old," Guy said. "Eighteenth-century old. How did a guy like Matt Hader afford a collection of clocks like this?"

"Matt was a collector," Mahogany said and picked up a silver and gold device with a glass front that allowed one to view the spinning cogs. She turned it in her hands. Besides being a rare antique, it appeared normal enough.

"What about this one?" Guy pointed to a domed glass piece on a polished wooden base. Inside the dome were brass cogs that stood still, waiting to be wound. On the base were several dials. The first was labeled day, the next, month, and the last one read year.

Frowning, Mahogany picked up the timepiece. She fiddled with the first dial, and the cogs began to run backward, a melodic chugging emanating from the glass dome. Above the crown, a picture appeared. A ghostly Matt Hader and Lilac Delldini danced, gazing lovingly into each other's eyes.

"Lilac and Matt?" Mahogany's frown deepened. "I didn't know they were an item."

"Who's Lilac?" Guy asked.

"She's married to RW, the guy trying to get the clock's chime changed. He and Matt fought in front of the Haughty Hemlock yesterday."

"And Matt was murdered last night? Do you think Lilac and Matt were having an affair? Maybe RW found out and murdered him?"

Mahogany shook her head. "No way. This is from ages ago. Look at Matt's hair. Not a speck of white, and Lilac looks like she's not a day over twenty. No, this is from years ago." She peered at the dials. "According to these, this was the 18th of March, 2000."

"I wonder what happened?" Guy said, swaying back and forth. "It would have to be pretty bad for the person you loved to leave you for your arch-nemesis."

"Indeed," Mahogany said. A thrill ran up her spine. Could RW have murdered Matt? He did have a motive, but did he have the opportunity? The wrench used to strangle Matt was the same used to work on the clock, so it would have been easy to obtain once inside the building, and if Mahogany had proved anything this evening, it was that the tower was easy to get into. But there was the issue of the building being locked tight from the inside. How did the murderer get out with the security chain latched?

She shook her head. No. No more sleuthing. She absently rubbed her healed tailbone. No, never again. "Why are you swaying?"

"Don't you hear the music?" Guy pointed at the clock.

Mahogany brought the clock to her ear and listened. "Is that Cyndi Lauper?"

Guy nodded. "Time After Time."

"Interesting." They watched the image for a few seconds before it ended, and the clock went still.

"Now what?" Guy said. "Was there anything else on the list?"

"That's it. Time to go."

They headed back out the way they came. She called to Bazgul as she passed the town model, and the demon spider jumped onto his master's scarfed head. Mahogany locked the door behind her and placed the key in its hiding place in the crack teapot.

"Do you think it was RW?" Guy said again.

"I don't know, and I don't care," Mahogany said, mounting her Vespa.

"I bet we could solve this case faster than the local authorities," Guy said, his tone smug.

"Nope." Mahogany started her scooter. "Not going to happen."

Guy sat behind Mahogany and braced himself for takeoff, a sly smile on his pale lips.

Several minutes later, as Mahogany entered the kitchen, Neema jumped, knocking over a full milk jug on the counter.

"Oh, you're home." Neema grabbed a towel from the kitchen counter.

"The item was easy to locate." Mahogany took in the scene, her eyes narrowing.

"I'm so clumsy. Sorry about your milk," Neema said, mopping up the liquid.

"Why is it blue?" Mahogany said, peering at the overturned glass jug, her squint turning to a scowl.

"I was infusing it with a vitamin mixture to strengthen your bones. After your fall this summer, I want to ensure you're protected."

"Oh," was all Mahogany could manage. "Well, thanks. How long does it say blue?"

"An hour or so." Neema grabbed the sponge from the sink and wiped the counter clean of the magic-infused milk.

"Why not just tell me you were spiking my milk?"

Neema shook her head. "I don't know. No reason, I guess. Silly when you think about it."

Mahogany raised an eyebrow at the glistening beads on Neema's neck. Was she sweating?

"OK, I'll leave you to it. Goodnight."

"Night, Mahogany."

"Well, that was odd," Guy said as they ascended the stairs.

"Neema's always been strange, but the blue milk puts me off." Mahogany made a face.

"Maybe that's why she didn't tell you?"

"Sure, maybe."

_________

AN: There's so much to unpack in this chapter.

First, what's up with the accounting book in the secret compartment under the floor?

Second, do Lilac and Matt have history, and if so, to what extent?

Third, was Neema really trying to help Mahogany by spiking her milk, or is she up to something?