The first thing I do when I get back to campus the next day is call up Officer Marshall.

  "Officer Marshall, Salem PD, how can I help?" she inquires after she picks up the phone, her voice polite and neutral from its place on the other side of the line.

  I can hear that there are other people in the background and I can guess that she's sitting at her desk at the police station. I choose my next words carefully in case her calls are being monitored as I sit in my dorm room alone, Tessa and Astrid having already gone to class.

  "I think I might have some information that you'll want to hear," I tell her.

  "Kara, I was hoping that you would call, can I meet you somewhere to talk?" she asks, her tone changing, but only slightly.

  "Where would you like to meet?"

  "There's a coffee shop not too far away from the station, if you're interested, it's the Front Street Coffeehouse," she offers.

  "I'll meet you there in twenty minutes," I promise.

  "See you then, Kara," she replies without missing a beat as she hangs up the phone.

  I navigate the quiet dorm building alone, as most everyone else is in class when I head out and take a taxi over to the coffee shop. The roads narrow as the taxi takes me deeper downtown and brick-faced buildings line both sides of the street and press in close around me like watching eyes. The taxi eventually pulls up to a store where a few wrought-iron tables and chairs sit along the curb in front of the newer brick building. No one is sitting outside with it being this early in the morning, as the weather is particularly cold.

  I draw my coat closer around myself and get out. I pull my beanie down over my ears before I hustle up to the front door. Warm air billows over me when I open the door and step inside where low music is playing overhead. The interior is a quaint split level and has dark wood floors and brick walls while a couple of stairs lead up to the counter where coffee can be ordered.

  People are sitting at many of the tables and the chatter mixed with the whine of coffee machines and blenders being used bombard me as the overpowering smell of food and coffee makes my mouth water. I glance around, searching the faces of the crowd as someone suddenly lifts a hand and I recognize them as being Officer Marshall.

  I walk over to the table that she's claimed along the wall and sit down across from her as she shakes her head at me.

  "There's a sitting area out back, I wanted to sit here until you showed up and then we could move out there where it's a bit quieter," she says as her eyes dart to a nearby table where a younger couple is sitting.

  I get the hint immediately, 'quieter' as in, less listening ears to overhear us.

  "Did you want to order anything to eat?" she inquires.

  "I just want a small mocha latte," I tell her since I haven't eaten breakfast and I pass her a couple of dollar bills to cover the cost.

  She waves her hand dismissively at me, "I've got your bill, wait here and then we'll head out," she says before she gets up and walks over to the counter to order.

  I feel vulnerable as soon as she steps away from the table, like there is a near and present danger hovering nearby, waiting to strike. Though the only people I see around me are middle aged, except for a small cluster of people around my age group. With the way that the younger crowd is hunched, I can guess that they're probably skipping school today.

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  Even though I have a free pass to skip classes, I still feel anxious about being seen by other people. I reach up and fidget with my hair, needing a distraction as I start to twist a lock of it around my finger.

  Officer Marshall returns then, a drink held in each hand as she juts her chin toward a back door on the restaurant, "Let's go."

  I get up and push the door open for her as I follow her out into a chilly, cobblestone sitting area. Much of it is shaded by the shadow of the building and I shiver as we get seated at a cold, iron table.

  A breeze ripples through a nearby tree, a good portion of its leaves already turning shades of yellow as I wonder how much longer it will be until the leaves start to fall. Officer Marshall follows my gaze as she seems to take note of the tree before she speaks.

  "Hard to believe that the first week of September is almost over," she murmurs as she takes a sip of her coffee and shrugs her police coat so the collar is flipped up to protect her ears.

  She makes a gesture then, her fingers flicking as the air ripples around us. It warms around us then, the air a dozen or so degrees warmer as there is a sudden shimmer, like a shield is around us. She smiles when I glance at her.

  "I hate the cold," she admits.

  "Yeah," I grimace and grab for my drink, though I take the time to idly stare at the foam as a few bubbles pop on its surface.

  She nods at this as the radio clipped on her belt suddenly crackles to life, a few garbled words pouring out of it before she reaches back and turns the volume down. I take the distraction as a way to give myself a few more seconds to get my thoughts in order before I speak.

  "I had a spell cast on me so I would be inclined not to speak to my parents about Finn's murder," I admit and her eyes widen slowly.

  "Persuasion spells can be cast on surfaces, laid like traps, it may have been a way to make sure that if anyone else had witnessed the murder, they would be inclined not to speak about it," Officer Marshall says quickly as her eyes tick back and forth, like she's scanning through her thoughts. "Kara...you may not have been the only witness to the murders, there could have been others but if they crossed the boundaries of the spells that were set, it would affect them too, these attacks were orchestrated and planned."

  She bites on the corner of her lip then as she shakes her head.

  "There's someone at the academy who is in on it, I just know it," she mutters.

  "Astrid said that there's a night secretary, Mr. Ivie, no one called my parents and he should have, shouldn't he?" I suggest and she nods.

  "He could have possibly been affected by the spell, but there's no way to tell unless the spell is reversed," she admits.

  "Can you reverse the spells?" I ask, my heart thrilling at the prospect of a lead.

  "I can try, I'd have to come onto campus and find where the spells were cast in order to reverse them," she explains.

  "Can we go now?"

  She shrugs at this and a smile twitches at the corners of her lips, "Of course we can."

  ****

  "It was around here...I think," I mutter as she follows me around the sidewalk of the gymnasium.

  There are currently no classes going on in the gym right now so we have the area to ourselves. The atmosphere feels tense, a strange, odd feeling hanging in the air like an invisible fog. Behind me, Officer Marshall nods and grabs for her police baton, which she snaps open as it extends with a metallic pop. I eye her as she does a quick twirl with it, her eyes focused on the sidewalk.

  "Is it a wand-?" I begin to ask, but a few sigils suddenly flicker to life on the sidewalk and answer my question.

  "It's a baton too, it makes it more useful than a stick or even crystal, if the spell doesn't work, then I can just hit the person with the baton," Officer Marshall points out as she settles into a crouch by the sigils.

  I stifle a snort as she shrugs.

  I can't help but notice that the sigils are ugly and jagged looking, which are so unlike the ones that I'm used to.

  "Whoever did this spell wasn't very experienced in magic," she notes as she reaches out a hand and touches the sigil.

  "Who would be a suspect?"

  "A student presumably, either that or someone who has maybe a few years of magic experience at the most," she explains as she starts to swirl her baton above the sigils, "I can reverse the spell, though it may take a few days for it to wear off for some people."

  "Okay," I say as she stands and turns to me.

  "Kara, you need to be careful, if there's a student involved, it could be someone in one of your classes who may know your schedule," she warns as she looks me in the eye, "remember, we're looking for a murderer and it could be anyone, trust no one."