I could hear the guys’ voices in my ear but I couldn’t make out the words through the roar of my own heartbeat. It was real. It was all real. The ghost, the magic, the men, the murder. It was real and it was going to swallow me whole.
“Priscilla!” Tom’s commanding bark cut through the whirlwind of my thoughts and I turned toward the phone. As if he could instinctively sense that I was listening once more, he continued in a low voice. “Price, we’re going to fix this. Now we know we’re looking for somebody with money or power, and we’re going to find them. We’re going to make sure justice is done, Price. We won’t let them take you down, okay? Do you hear me?” I mumbled something incoherent and Tom raised his voice. “Do you believe me, Price? I need to hear you say the words so I know you can hear me.”
“I hear you,” I mumbled. I took a deep breath, imagining the three guys standing in Agatha’s living room. Tom with a deep furrow in his brow, Finn’s green eyes brimming with worry and compassion, and Pussy, well, him with his whiskers and fur. An uncontrollable giggle swelled from deep in the pit of my stomach and burst from my lips.
My shoulders shook as tears of hysterical laughter rolled down my cheeks. I heard Tom arguing with the others. “She’s still there, but I think she’s having some sort of a breakdown.”
“I’m fine,” I cut across him. I took a deep breath. “I’m okay. You’re right, we know more now that we did this morning and that’s a good thing.” I lifted my chin, thinking of Harlow and his quicksilver eyes. “And you’re right; we’re going to find this granny-killer, and we’re going to nail him.” In the background I could hear Finn saying that Agatha was not technically a granny and Tom telling Finn to shut up, and I grinned. “Okay, guys, break it up. I’ll be home in a few minutes and I’ll drop by Dot’s place on the way home and pick up some lunch. Try not to cough up any hairballs before I get back.”
I killed the call and started the engine with a newfound sense of determination. I was almost at Bewitching Bites coffee shop, when I caught sight of a familiar face out of the corner of my eye. Short, bobbed, ice-white hair shone in stark contrast with her long black fur coat. I stared at the tall elegant figure as I pulled my car up to the curb, I would recognize that woman’s style anywhere.
I rolled down my window. ”Would you like a ride home, Bianca?”
Startled, she took a moment to recognize who I was before smiling gratefully at me. “That would be lovely, dear. Thank you.” I watched her reach for the door and wondered would she be upset if she knew Harlow Monroe was insinuating she had been a danger to his cousin. Bianca pulled off her gloves as she folded her hands on her lap in the passenger seat. Long, slender, elegant hands, the kind that were made for playing piano and mending dolls. Not strong enough to snap a spine. She gave me a reserved smile. “I’m just down the next right. I thought I’d take my physicians advice and go for a little stroll, but these legs of mine aren’t what they used to be; you couldn’t have pulled over at a better time.”
“I’m glad to be able to help.” I smiled as I pulled back onto the road, thinking the exact same thing. Surely, it was serendipity that had led me straight into Bianca’s path, just after Harlow had tried to send me after her. Maybe he didn’t have a clear motive for wanting Agatha dead, but Harlow certainly had the money to twist a few arms in Salem Police Department. Before I could ask Bianca anything, my phone buzzed. I glanced down at the flashing screen and my stomach cramped.
Officer Fitzgerald knocking on the door, we think he’s watching the apartment. Park in the lane and come in through the back door. – Finn
I quickly slid the screen off before Bianca had a chance to see the message. “Everything all right, dear?” she asked, my own discomfort obviously weighing heavily in the car.
“Just peachy,” I lied. “How have you been today?”
“Oh, you know,” she drawled, waving her slim hand near my face as she spoke. “Same old. Clients here and clients there. Never a day’s rest for a haggard old woman.”
I gave her a half-smile. “I don’t think anyone could accuse you of looking haggard or old, Bianca.” I wasn’t lying. She looked great for her age, not a day over sixty if I could hedge my bets.
“Why, thank you, dear.” Her voice was disingenuous, as if she was used to being showered with flattery. “What are you doing on this side of town? Lovely car, by the way; I pegged you for more of a bicycle kind of girl.”
I wasn’t sure whether to take that as a compliment or not. “The keys were left out for me in the house. I had a few errands to run,” I quickly said, doing my best to come up with an excuse for driving around town in a dead woman’s vehicle. I frowned through the windscreen, surprised Bianca hadn’t recognized the car as Agatha’s. “Wasn’t this Agatha’s car?”
“Oh, yes, you’re right. How did I forget? Grief does strange things to the mind, doesn’t it?” Bianca lifted her finger to her eye as if to dab away a tear, which I suspected was more an act than anything if my memory of Agatha’s funeral served correctly. The older woman watched me from the shadow of her thick, blunt bangs. “I don’t mean to intrude, but I’m almost certain I spotted this car outside Harlow Monroe’s place earlier. You must have been paying him a visit, so sweet of you to check in on Agatha’s cousin. Not that they were close. Not in the end,” Bianca said. She skipped on with the conversation before I could interject. “Lovely house, isn’t it? I’d almost pay him a visit myself to get a look inside.”
Despite her casual tone, I could feel Bianca watching me closely. “Yeah, it’s lovely. I just stopped by to share my condolences; I don’t remember seeing him at the funeral.”
“Oh, he was there,” Bianca replied. “He’s simply a doll, isn’t he? He’s recovered so well from that whole embezzlement thing he was wrapped up in not far back. But I wonder how he’s getting on, really. People say it’s only a matter of time before he runs out of people to borrow from. It’s so sad when you see somebody caught in that cycle, isn’t it? Borrowing from Billy to pay John, my mother used to say. Like a house of cards, it’ll all fall down in the slightest breeze.” She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. “He must be up the wall that dear Aggie didn’t leave him that place. Oh, just around this corner, dear.”
I slowed to a crawl as we cruised the avenue. I took in the large houses and the expensive cars, I guessed if I picked a leaf from one of the straight trees lining the road, even that would probably have smelled like money. A black kitten jumped onto the pavement and Bianca wrinkled her nose. “How are you doing with those three cats of Agatha’s, by the way? Nasty little beasts. Have you had them checked out, yet? There’s a vet nearby, you know.”
“Yes, I know. I took them to Tracy’s yesterday, actually,” I said. I tapped the steering wheel and felt a smile play over my lips. “I’m quite fond of the furry monsters, to be honest.”