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Spencer suggested.
    Gavin elbowed him. “Oh yeah, he’s a real scary music dude.”
    â€œHow about Cleopatra?” June said. “She had the coolest jewelry.”
    â€œNo way,” Gavin retorted. “A mummy would be creepy. Not a queen.”
    â€œI think we need someone we have a connection to. You know, to make it mean something,” Paige said. “Someone from around here. Maybe someone who died a long time ago in a strange way or—”
    â€œGuys!” Kelly interrupted. “I have the perfect person.” She closed her eyes, bringing forth the pretty face in her mind. The clear, innocent gaze. She’d neverbeen one to believe in fate and all that. She was a straightforward facts kind of girl. But this felt as if it was meant to be. As if there was a true connection. “We will call forth the spirit of Miss Mary Owens.”
    â€œWho?” all her friends wanted to know.
    â€œI’ll tell you about Mary.” She paused as the old heater in the attic above her clanked, revving up to fight the cold creeping through the ancient wood siding. The wind gusted, and the branches rattled against the house. “She died on a night like this.”
    â€œHow do you know about her?” Paige asked.
    Kelly told them about the article she’d read that afternoon. “The year was 1966. Mary was young, like Chrissie’s age. She’d come to our town to visit her aunt for the holidays. Her aunt lived out past the MacMaster farm, near the base of the big mountain. Back then there were no strip malls. Just houses and farms. And in Vermont, in the winter, there was snow. Lots and lots of it.”
    She paused to recollect the story. “Her aunt threw a large party. Lots of people. Caroling and food and holiday cheer. Mary had an eye for beauty. She decorated her aunt’s tree with dozens of candy canes. She wove garlands with those round red-and-white peppermint candies andstrung them throughout the rooms. Guests remarked on the scent of peppermint that filled the house. Mary even placed mints on a string and wore it as a necklace, surrounding herself with the holiday aroma.
    â€œNow, crafty is nice where grown-ups are concerned, but Mary was beautiful, too. So, of course, the local boys at the party noticed her. And, of course, the local girls noticed the local boys noticing Mary, which didn’t go over so well. Especially when some of those boys were the boyfriends of some of those jealous girls.”
    Kelly pictured Mary sitting by the fireplace, in her red-and-white dress, laughing lightly as a group of boys brought her punch and iced gingerbread cookies. Good for Mary. Not so good for the ignored girlfriends.
    â€œDuring the party, the phone rang. The caller asked for Miss Mary. Mary took the call in the privacy of the kitchen, but she didn’t go back to the party. No one noticed it at the time. She immediately went out the back door, wearing only her party dress. Snow had started to fall, and more was on its way. No one would ever know who called or what the caller had said. But something drove Mary to walk through the snow, without a coat, to the shed at the farthest part of the propertyin the darkness of a freezing winter night.”
    â€œWhat happened then?” Spencer asked.
    â€œBefore this, there had been days and days of storms. Wet, heavy snow was piled everywhere. A huge mound of snow and ice had accumulated on the shed roof. Mary entered the rickety shed alone. Why? Who knows. The door must’ve slammed behind her, setting off an avalanche of the snow on the roof. The rumbling was deafening. There was no time to run. Nowhere to go. Tons of snow crashed in a wave as the roof crumbled.
    â€œMary was found the next morning. The article said the smell of mint filled the destroyed cabin. She had tried to claw her way out of the suffocating whiteness, and her bare hands were frozen in place. Her mouth was forever stuck in a