Jo Bellamy sees dead people. They're mostly annoying.

Jo's been seeing ghosts her whole life. Now she runs a Victorian B&B in St. Augustine with five permanent ghost residents, a chef who shares her secret, and a coffee delivery guy she's trying very hard not to fall for. It's a lot. She manages.

Then a young woman turns up dead in the drained pool of the Lightner Museum, posed like a debutante at a ball she was never invited to, wearing a gown that doesn't fit. The staging is flawless. The message is clear. Someone wanted this to be seen.

When Jo's ghost network traces the murder to a wealthy family's oceanfront villa — and a ghost witness who's been keeping powerful men's secrets since 1897 — Jo finds herself running a parallel investigation through the dead while her detective ally builds the case through the living. The problem: ghost testimony doesn't hold up in court. The evidence has to stand on its own.

But the family has a fixer, a lawyer, and four centuries of money insulating them from consequences. The ghost witness is terrified to talk. The clock is ticking on physical evidence that won't last. And the wife — quiet, watchful, decorative Claire — is calculating something none of them see coming.

Jo has biscuits to serve, guests to charm, a first date to survive, and a dead girl who deserves justice from a system that was built to protect the man who killed her.