Having somebody go upside your head with a toilet tank lid would make anybody cranky, but when local contractor Max Wheeler meets his end this way, he takes it more personally than most. As any responsible ghost would, he seeks out the local sheriff to report himself murdered. With yet another paranormal reality to wrap his head around, Hunter dives into an investigation and learns that there's more beneath the surface of his small southern town than he thought. Though he tracks down lead after lead, he keeps coming up empty, and Max becomes more irritated—and irritating—with each dead-end. Meanwhile, things take a turn for the strange when briskets and peach pies start going missing, and broken items turn up fixed. Throw in a slippery young pick-pocket with secrets of his own and you've got three separate mysteries that just aren't adding up. All Noelle wants is a finished swimming pool instead of a giant mud hole in her yard, and to get her bakery up and running, but cranky ghosts, gossipy but (mostly) lovable old hens at the beauty parlor, and bratty kids just keep slowing her down. Is it really too much to ask that people stop killing each other long enough for a witch to get some work done?