“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.”

“The real Salem,” Finn huffed. “What a swizz.”

I patted his hand, surprised by his town pride, and reminded myself to tease him about it later. “If he loved Massachusetts so much, why is back in Oregon?” I asked. “Why leave?”

Agatha frowned. “Oh, he had some cockamamie excuse about wanting to come home and reconnect with his old haunts, but I’m pretty certain there were some business shenanigans involved. He probably swindled the wrong buyer and had to scoot out of Massachusetts with his tail between his legs.”

I glanced at Finn over my shoulder before I asked the next question. “Finn and Tom thought you guys might have had a little falling out over something? Maybe he wanted you to move out of town?” I paused. “Said you were playing with fire in Salem?”

Agatha made a face. “Typical Harlow; trying to boss me around like I’m the kid cousin, ha. He was always on my case to move out of town and into some village for old fogeys. Thought Salem had become too dangerous for me.”

I stared out the window onto the quiet, peaceful, pretty street and raised my eyebrows. “Salem? Dangerous? What made him think that?”

“I guess…” Agatha snapped her mouth shut and opened it again like a goldfish. “I don’t know,” she said eventually.

I shared a look with the three guys. Another hole in Agatha’s memory. Interesting. I threaded my fingers together. “Do you know where I could find Harlow, Aggy? I’d like to talk to him, see if he has anything to tell us that might help.” Or if he murdered you in cold blood hoping to inherit your home, I added mentally. The look on the men’s faces told me I wasn’t the only one thinking the worst about good old Harlow.

“He bought the big Green Victorian, right in the middle of Mission Street. Can’t miss it, the fool painted it bright pink,” Agatha said. She heaved herself off the couch, her usual energy beginning to surface. “He bought another place, too, a couple of hours out of town in Newport. Wanted a sea view. The address is in my notebook on the hall table.” She gave me a sly grin. “You’ll find it easy, little miss snoopy pants.” And without so much as a goodbye, she was gone, vanished into thin air. Charming.

I huffed a loud sigh and crossed my arms, turning my attention back toward the three men who seemed far more amused than anyone had any right to be. “Okay, Mission Street and Newport. I’m guessing I should try Mission Street first. Anyone have any idea where that is?”

Finn smiled and nodded. “Yeah, it’s about three miles from here, and if you want to get to Newport and back today, you’ll definitely need a car.”

Pussy grinned lazily. “Why don’t you just take Agatha’s car?”

“Agatha has a car?” I asked before I turned to face the far side of the room where Agatha had vanished. “You have a damn car?”

Agatha appeared in the doorway, looking smug. “Of course, I have a car. What do you take me for, a peasant?”

“Well, thank you for failing to mention that before I hauled that heavy-ass crate all the way to the vet’s. You’re a sweetheart.” I turned back to the three men and glared at them. “And why didn’t any of you mention anything, either?”

“You said you loved to exercise, right? Cardio-weight training combo, pretty sweet, like, workout, no?” Tom kept a straight face, but the barest hint of a grin flickered at the corner of his lips.

Pussy raised his arms above his head and leaned back casually, eyeing me with his sharp stare. “Plus, cats don’t like cars. Most animals don’t, really,” he added.

I turned to Finn who just gave me an apologetic grimace. “Cars really suck for cats.”

I raised my hands high above my head in surrender and turned to storm out of the room, completely fed up with their nonsense. “Yeah, well, you’re men, not cats.” I called back to them. “I’m out of here.”

Tom covered the space between us with effortless ease and blocked my path. His eyes blazed. “You’re not going anywhere without us.”

“Oh, really?” I folded my arms over my chest. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, it is,” Tom growled. “If Harlow is capable of killing Aggy, it’s not safe for you to face him alone.”

I pursed my lips. “Firstly, he’s an old man. Secondly, she was an old woman.”

“Agatha wasn’t just any old woman, Price.” Tom took a step closer and his hard abdomen brushed against my arm. His eyes were as blue as the ocean during a storm. “I know you don’t want to hear any of this witch shit, but it’s true, whether you like it or not. Agatha wasn’t some defenseless old broad. And we still have no idea how she was murdered, Harlow could have shot her with a poisoned dart from ten feet for all we know.”

I dragged my gaze away from his brooding eyes and took a step back to find Finn and Pussy had closed in on me. I slithered between them with my hands raised. “Okay, guys, thanks for the protective house cat routine, but I’m pretty certain I’m woman enough to tackle Harlow.” Finn opened his mouth to argue with me, but I cut him off. “Stop, no arguments. This is my life, my reputation, and my mess to sort out, okay? But if you do want to help me…”

“We do,” Pussy blurted out. Tom and Finn looked at him with a level of surprise on their faces that matched my own. Clearly, I wasn’t the only one who hadn’t figured leering Pussy for a boy scout. He shrugged one shoulder. “What? I’ve got nothing better to do now that I can’t lick my own—”

“Yeah, we get it.” I smacked my hand over his mouth and he licked my palm in a long, firm stroke. I snatched my hand back. “You’re disgusting.”

“You’re welcome,” he purred.

Tom stepped between us with a stony expression. “What do you want us to do?”

“I need you to find out everything you can about the case. I want to know what the murder weapon was, why the cops didn’t call the death as suspicious before now, what people are saying around town, basically anything you kind find out,” I said. The three men nodded and I held up my hand. “But, seriously, you need to change into normal clothes first. No more playing dress-up. We have no idea where or when you guys came from, so you need to keep a really low profile in case somebody recognizes you as the local serial killer or something.”

Finn frowned. “Can we please not assume we were criminals? I really don’t think I was a criminal.”

A smile tugged at my lips as I examined his earnest eyes. I really didn’t think he had been a criminal either. My gaze slid to the right and connected with Tom’s ice-blue glower. That guy, on the other hand… I pointed my finger at the three men. “Just be discreet. I don’t need you three messing everything up for me.”

Pussy saluted. “Yes, ma’am, your reverse harem won’t let you down. We know you’re relying on us to solve the case.”

“Please,” I snorted. “I don’t need any men to help me get the job done.” I gave him a derisive once-over as I sashayed toward the front door.

“Sure thing,” Pussy called after me in his sarcastic drawl. “Enjoy hot wiring the car.”

I paused in the doorway, refusing to turn back to them. After a long moment of awkward silence, Finn said, “In the hall table. Beside Agatha’s address book. With Harlow’s address in it...”

I marched down the hall and snatched the keys and the address book, shutting the drawer with a loud snap. “Thank you, jerkholes,” I muttered to myself when I was sure they couldn’t hear me.

“You’re welcome,” the three men all called back at once. I slammed the door behind me.