“I quite like the sound of that,” Tom said, grinning slowly.
“Only, it wouldn’t be a harem,” Pussy added. “Maybe like a backward harem or something.”
I pressed my hands to my ears as my eyes nearly bugged out of my face. “What is my life even right now?”
Tom smirked. “A reverse harem?”
This conversation wasn’t happening. “Who in their right mind would want to be involved with multiple men at once, huh?” I snapped, suppressing the curious surge that twisted through my core. An image of the last time I’d attempted to seduce Gerard slithered across my mind, souring the excitement in my stomach, and I cringed inwardly. I crossed my arms. “One man was bad enough, and three is far too many at this point in my life, thank you very much.”
“Oh, come on, what girl wouldn’t want to be surrounded by a ton of perfectly intelligent, strong, sexy men such as ourselves?” Pussy winked.
Tom’s mouth lifted on one side and he flexed a tattooed arm. “Sexy shifters for the win.”
I folded my arms. “Yeah, you’re talking paranormal romance, and I’ve read that. Usually the heroes are some sort of strong, appealing beast like a lion or a bear. You guys are literally fluffy house cats.”
Pussy grinned, clearly enjoying this conversation far more than I was. “Sexy, sexy house cats.”
“Get over yourselves,” I snapped.
“You’re basically living the dream of any woman who has read one of those books,” Pussy drawled. “A naughty little living dream.”
“I’m going to wake up tomorrow in a psych ward and this is all going to be a dream,” I groaned in agreement. “Or a nightmare, rather. I just know it.”
“Besides,” Pussy added as if I hadn’t spoken a word. “You’re getting three cats for the price of one. You should feel privileged.”
I muttered, “I’m more of a dog person.”
Agatha sneered. “Whiney little hipster hussy.”
“Aggravating crass-mouthed granny ghost,” I sniped.
“Did someone order avocado toast?” Finn chimed in as he stepped in between us with a plate of food in his hand and a rather satisfied grin on his face.
“Just what the reverse harem ordered,” Pussy teased. I grabbed the plate from Finn with whispered thanks and took a bite of the damn toast, ignoring the rest of them while I chewed, and pretending not to notice the glaring irony that I was standing in front of them eating the one food that was the root of all hipster jokes. And it was absolutely delicious.
I swallowed a bite of wholesome goodness and pointed a finger at Agatha. “Listen, do you want me to solve your murder or not?” Agatha sighed but raised her hands in surrender. “Right, that's what I thought,” I said. “So, what can you tell me about your cousin and his real estate empire?”
Chapter Seventeen
“That slimy geezer?” Agatha scoffed, but her exasperated expression quickly fell into one of resignation. “What exactly would you like to know?” Agatha settled herself next to Tom on the couch, slinking back into the cushion, and for the first time since I arrived, looked like she was willing to have a decent conversation.
Interesting. “So, you’re not on good terms with him, then?”
“Harlow is nothing more than a bag of beans. I wouldn’t want to get in the way of him and a business deal,” Agatha snarled. I opened my mouth to ask her to elaborate, but her voice softened. “He’s not all bad, though. The chubby little gollum has his mother’s heart, even if he does everything in his power to hide it behind that thick hide of his.”
Finn settled himself on the arm of my chair and I leaned into him, resting my elbow on his knee. “Dot said you came to Salem to live with your aunt, was that Harlow’s mother? Where did you live before Salem?”
Agatha’s eyes were narrow slits. “I was born in New York City, but I got bounced around a bit before his mother took me in and brought me to live with her and Harlow in Salem. I was sixteen.”
I hesitated, aware I was on shaky ground. “Did your parents come with you to live with Harlow and your aunt?”
Agatha’s nostrils flared. “Dorothy Murphy has no right to spread my personal business all over town.” She sprang to her feet and began pacing the floor, muttering to nobody in particular. “Doughy little busybody, poking her nose in where it’s not wanted. I can do whatever I want with my life, it’s no concern of hers or Bianca’s or damn Harlow’s, they can all go to hell.” She spun to face the window and glared into the street. “I should have never come back to this one horse town. Should have stayed in New York and raised hell like I could’ve.”
Agatha’s head twisted at a sickening angle as she twisted to look at me, and for the first time since I’d arrived in Salem, I saw Agatha for what she was. A ghost. A woman without a life or a full memory or the peace to move on. Finn’s arm wrapped around my waist and he pulled me against his side. Tom and Pussy both eased off their chairs and moved forward a little, standing somewhere between Agatha and me. The ghost’s lips curled back. “I could have been the baddest witch this country has ever seen. I could have brought the world to its knees.”
I felt Finn’s fingers tighten around my waist and pressed myself against his side, grateful for the comfort of his warmth as I steeled myself to continue. I inhaled. “So, why didn’t you do it? Why come back to quiet little Salem and your store and your doll-making friends?”
Agatha glared at me for the longest moment until the rage seemed to seep from her body, leaving her deflated and bowed. She shook her head. “I don’t know,” she muttered, turning back toward the window. “I don’t know. I guess a spider just follows that silvery thread home, doesn’t it?”
Tom’s eyes met mine and I held his stare for a moment before nodding. He walked across the room and stood beside the old lady. Agatha was dwarfed by his large, lean frame, and despite the weight in the air, my lips twisted at the sight of them together; him in his dapper suit with his hair waves combed to one side like a gangster in twentieth-century Chicago, and her in her fuzzy slippers and robe. His voice was softer than I’d ever heard it before. I squeezed my lips together as I watched him bend his head to meet her eye. “Aggy, we’re trying to help you, girl. If resolution is what you need to find your peace, you got to let Price help you find those answers. You’ve got to work with us, Ag.” He raised one hand to her cheek, as if he could stroke her wrinkled skin. “We want to make the pain go away.”
I turned my face away and pressed it against Finn's shirt. Life was a shit-show when it came down to it, but at that moment, I prayed all the people I loved would find a way to make their peace before they died. Before it was too late and they had to live with their regrets for all of eternity, because that was a torture very few people deserved. Pussy’s voice dragged me from my reverie, his tone sincere for once. He gestured for Agatha to sit on the couch. “Harlow?”
Agatha nodded gently and hobbled back across the room, suddenly less wicked specter and more broken woman. She sank onto the sofa. “Yes, Harlow is my cousin. Yes, I moved in with his mother and him when I was sixteen. Harlow was only fourteen at the time, but he had ambition, even then. His mother was a widow and she’d had to work hard for every nickel and dime, and Harlow wasn’t going to spend his life like that, no matter what. I left Salem for London when I was eighteen.” My eyebrows peaked, but Agatha shushed me with her hand. “Another story, another time. Harlow left Salem two years later to find his fortune. Worked his way from sales clerk, to sales manager, to realtor, to property developer. He was a wealthy man by the time he settled in Salem, Massachusetts, and once aunt Sissy was gone, he only came back once or twice a year to check on her old house and make sure the tenants were keeping it right. He had no interest in this little city once he’d found the real Salem.”