I yawned and stretched, my body aching. Early morning light flooded through the window onto my bed and warmed my skin. My hangover was tremendous and my head pounded in a fascinatingly painful rhythm against my pillow. I rolled over, but found myself stuck. My comforters were pinned down. Inching onto my side, I slowly opened my eyes and nearly let out a scream.

Snuggled beside me were three rather large, rather unnervingly sexy naked men. “Out,” I demanded, nudging them with my feet. “This wasn’t our agreement. Out, all of you.”

“What?” Finn yawned as he stretched. He looked around and had the grace to blush when he caught sight of the tangle of naked bodies sprawled over my legs. “Shit, sorry. I must have touched off you in my sleep. Totally accidental, I swear.”

Pussy opened his eyes lazily and stretched his long, toned body with a grin. “Speak for yourself, Muffin.” I lifted my knee in an attempt to knock him off the bed, but he merely rolled onto his stomach so that his bare buttocks were facing the ceiling and his morning glory was pressed into the comforter beside my leg. I shot him a dirty look and wriggled away, fighting the temptation to land a smack on his naked butt. It would be satisfying to hear my palm slap down on those firm globes, but I was pretty certain I’d get more than I bargained for if I started that nonsense. Pussy’s eyes were on my face and his lips curved as if he could read my mind. He ran a hand through his messy blond hair. “Don’t be so grouchy, Pricetag. Unless you’re still upset about not getting that Sex on the—”

Tom shouldered Pussy clear off the bed with a single jerk of his tattooed body, and Pussy stared up at us from the floor with an indignant scowl and an impressive full-frontal display. I threw my hands up to cover my eyes. “Guys! You’re killing me. I’ll keep my eyes closed, just cover yourselves up and go, please.” I opened my fingers a crack as the floorboards creaked, closing them again tightly when Tom glanced in my direction. A low rumble of laughter filled my ears. Damn it, caught red-handed. Before Tom could tell the others about my peeping tendencies, the sound of loud knocking echoed through the house.

“What the?” I squeezed my eyes shut as my temples throbbed. “Is that in my head or is somebody really banging on our door?” The sound came again, and all three men looked around confused. Okay, so it wasn’t just me.

“Who the hell is that?” Tom scowled in the direction the noise was coming from.

“Are you guys expecting someone?” I asked, sitting up and tugging on the comforter to cover my bare chest. When had I taken my damn clothes off? I looked around the room and saw my clothes strewn across the floor. I must’ve gotten hot and peeled them off while I was in a drunken coma. I groaned and felt my blush deepen, wondering if the guys had witnessed the event.

“Of course we’re not expecting anyone,” Pussy sneered. “We’re cats, remember?”

I slithered off the bed, trying my best to conceal my dignity. “You are people now, not cats, okay?” Tom and Finn had covered themselves with towels from my press, but Pussy was still butt naked, holding one of my shirts over his crotch. I stared at him pointedly. “Now, go put some proper clothes on and let me get dressed in privacy, please.”

The three men left the room, Pussy’s bare ass a sight to behold in the morning sun.

Knock knock knock.

“Can someone get the door?” I yelled as I tugged my clothes onto my uncoordinated body. I stumbled around, still feeling the effects of the alcohol from the night before. I heard a few thumps and loud swearing coming from downstairs. I started toward the hallway. “Guys? What the hell is going on?”

Thunder sounded on the stairs as all three men ran back to the bedroom, only half dressed. “Price, something happened.”

I grabbed hold of the door handle. “What are you talking about?”

Finn took a step forward with his hands outstretched like I was a wild animal that might bolt. “Don’t panic, okay?” I glared at him, silent. “It’s probably a big misunderstanding, but it looks like media is here.” He paused. “On our doorstep.”

“What?” It was too early for games. “Who the hell is Media?”

“Not Media,” Tom growled. “The media. Someone called the media. The press. Newspapers, television. There are about forty journalists standing outside with cameras and microphones.”

I hated alcohol; I was going to vomit. “Why are they here? Is this about Agatha?” Another thought hit my brain and I felt the blood drain from my face. “Oh, my God, they saw you turn into cats. They’re going to try and take you away. Oh, my God.”

Finn wrapped his arms around me as my shaky legs began to buckle and pulled me onto his lap on the bed. “Take it easy, we’re not going anywhere, Price. I swear.” He brushed a tangled lock of dark hair off my cheek, his green eyes dark. “They’re not here for us.”

“No,” Pussy agreed. His arms were crossed as he leaned back casually against the wall; only the tightness of his jaw and the straight line of his mouth gave away his worry. “From what I could hear through the door, they’re here to investigate the girl who’s suspected of murdering Agatha Bentley.”

“What? That’s insane. It’s not fair,” I insisted. “What would have brought them here? I’m not even an official suspect. I haven’t even been brought to the station for questioning yet.”

“Someone must’ve said something or leaked a rumor to one of the agencies.” Tom’s voice was like sandpaper and his hands were curled into fists. “This is a damn dirty investigation, when I figure out who’s trying to set you up…”

I slid off Finn’s lap and brushed Tom’s shoulder with my fingers. “Take it easy, Fluffy. We don’t need you up for murder charges too, all right?” Tom’s body relaxed under my touch and I gave him a half-smile. “Who’d be our resident grumpy bastard if you got locked up?” His teeth were strikingly white against his olive skin as he flashed me a grin. I bit my lip, turning back to the others. “Okay, no more time for dicking around, we need to figure out who the fudge is trying to cover their dirt by flinging it at me.”

Finn nodded, fumbling in Agatha’s bedside locker and retrieving a notepad and pen. “Okay, who’s our number one suspect? It has to be somebody with a reason to murder Agatha and then means or the influence to cover it up.”

“Right.” I sat down on the bed beside him and crushed my hands between my knees. “Frankie has a motive; Agatha crushed his dream and threw him out on the street. And it wasn’t the first time his life had been ripped apart. That stuff takes its toll on a person.” I stared at my feet, trying to gather my thoughts. “And he has a direct line to the chief of police in the city.”

“What?” Pussy asked, cocking an eyebrow. “The vet’s assistant has influence over the chief of police?”

“Apparently so,” I said. “Bianca D’Arcy told me yesterday that her dating agency had paired them up and apparently the chief is head over heels crazy about Frankie.”

Tom pressed his knuckles against the wall. “Shit.”

“Okay, that’s a possibility.” Finn scribbled something on the notepad before turning his green stare back on me. “What about Agatha’s cousin, Harlow?”

I frowned. “Well, if what Bianca says about his debt problem is true, and if it’s true that this place could be worth a lot when the property market changes, I guess he could have wanted Agatha dead for her inheritance.” I tucked my hair behind my ears. “He swore he knew Agatha wasn’t going to leave him anything in her will and he seemed pretty convincing, but—“

“If somebody has the balls to strangle an old lady in her own home, they probably have the balls to lie without cracking,” Pussy interjected.

I nodded. “Pretty much. And Bianca insinuated it wasn’t the first time he’d been on the wrong side of the law.”

“Bianca,” Tom muttered. I glanced at him. “Bianca, Bianca, Bianca. She’s really stirring the pot, isn’t she? Dropping all those interesting little hints in your ear. You know she’s one of the wealthiest women in Salem, right? If anyone could pull strings in City Hall, it’s her.”

Finn shook his head. “But why? She has all the money she could ever want.”

“And she wasn’t even in the country when Aggie died. She told me she was at a conference in San Francisco that week, addressing hundreds of dating experts every day. Pretty rock solid alibi,” I said.

The banging on the front door started again, increasing in intensity with every passing second. Tom began to pace the floor like a lion in a cage, anger flaring in his eyes. Every muscle in his bare torso strained against his inked skin as he clenched his fists. “Whoever the hell is behind this, I’m going to find them. I swear to God.”

I watched him pace back and forth, my stomach flipping and my chest tightening. Did he really care that much about me? I reached for him and grabbed his hand, pulling him onto the bed beside Finn and me.

“I told you, getting angry won’t solve anything, Tom.” I slid my hand along the side of his arm and his muscles rippled under my fingers. My phone buzzed on the side table and I grabbed it, swallowing a curse as Officer Bert’s name flash across the screen.

“Who is it?” Finn asked. When I didn’t answer, he eased the phone from my grip. His creamy complexion paled to alabaster. “Oh shit, Price, don’t answer.”

“You think he knows that the media is outside our house?” I asked, my mind spinning. I was definitely going to throw up.

“Of course he does,” Pussy muttered. “The whole city will know before long. This kind of thing spreads quick, especially once it’s in the news. Once you get the media involved, a frenzy always follows. Price, if they peg you as the murderer, everything is going to change, you do realize? That’s how these things work.”

“You think I don’t know that, Pussy? This isn’t my fault. I didn’t ask for any of this.” I fell back on the bed and covered my eyes with my hands, breathing in, counting to three, and letting it out slowly through my mouth.

A shadow fell over my face as something stirred above me and I opened one eye to find Pussy staring down at me with his brows drawn together under his thatch of blond hair. There was no trace of his usual arrogance, his face stripped bare. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to blame you.” His voice was quiet. Soft. I raised my eyebrows and he gave me a tentative smile. “I’m a jerk when I get scared, Pricetag. And I don’t want to lose you. We’ve only just found you.”

I pulled myself into a seated position and punched him gently in the stomach, feeling the silky smoothness of his tanned skin under my fingers. “Don’t be stupid, Pussy. You’re not a jerk when you’re scared.” I paused. “You’re a jerk all the time.”

“Funny, Pricetag, very funny.” Pussy’s voice was loaded with sarcasm but the haunted look had faded from his eyes. He walked across the room and leaned on the windowsill. “Okay, we need a plan.” Pussy gave me a forceful glare. “Under no circumstances can you leave the house, Price. You stay here with us, so we can protect you.”

I shook my head. “I can hide all I want, Pussy, but as soon as the police get a warrant for my arrest, there’ll be nothing stopping them from coming through that door and forcing me to go with them.”

Tom smacked his fist into a pillow. “That’s not gonna happen. They have nothing on you.”

“You look so sure of yourself,” I said.

“I am,” he replied. His eyes burned like crystal fire as he held my gaze, sending a shiver down my spine.

My phone buzzed again, this time a text message. “I’m outside, Priscilla. Come to the door.” It was from office Bert.

I stood and turned my phone toward the guys so they could read the message. Finn stared at the phone. “A text message? What the hell is this guy angling at? You can’t just text a suspect. My dad’s a cop and he would never…” Finn’s voice faded away as we all stared at him, open-mouthed. He sat back down on the edge of the bed. “My dad is a cop.” He looked at us, his eyes as full as a spring pasture. “I remember his face. He’s a cop.”

Without thinking, I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around his neck and he buried his face in my shoulder. I ran my fingers through his hair, overwhelmed by the depth of emotion I could feel in his embrace. What the hell had Agatha done to these men? What could they have done that warranted a life sentence in a cat’s form? Maybe she was right, maybe they deserved it, but looking around the room, I just couldn’t believe that. And there was only one way to unlock the door to Agatha’s magic and her memories, and if I went down for her murder... I straightened my back and reluctantly eased myself out of Finn’s warm embrace.

“I’m going down to meet Officer Fitzgerald.” I held my hands up to silence their protests and lifted my jaw. “Stop! I know you want to protect me, and I appreciate that, but I want to protect you guys too. And you need to respect that. You need to put your faith in me.” Even though my stinking ex hadn’t ever been able to put an ounce of faith in me. I slammed down the memory of Gerard’s curled lip when I told him I was going to need a little more money to keep my juice bar in business, and I clenched my fists. “If there’s any way to make this right, I’ll find it, guys. But it’s my battle. You’ve got to trust me enough to let me fight it.”

Finn released his hold on my hand, and I stroked one finger along his jaw. “We’ll talk later, about your dad.” Pussy nodded to me as I passed, his arms folded tightly across his chest, and his face uncharacteristically somber. As I reached the bedroom door, Tom broke away from the others and blocked my path. A storm raged in the blue waters of his eyes. I placed my hand on his chest and leaned in, pressing my forehead against him. “I have to at least go talk to him, Tom. You know I do. Hiding inside will just make me look even guiltier.”

His breath was a groan in my ear as he relented and shifted his body to let me pass. My phone rang and I glanced at the screen. Officer Fitzgerald again. I steeled myself. “Hello?”

“Priscilla? It’s Officer Bert Fitzgerald.” His voice sounded hoarse and ragged through the phone, nearly as exhausted as I felt.

“I got your message, what do you want, Officer?” I didn’t bother to try and cajole him, it was way too late for any of that.

“The media got wind of the case, Priscilla. Somebody leaked some of my private notes.” His voice was tight with barely controlled rage. “I need you to let me inside, Ms. Jones.” When I didn’t answer, he pressed on. “You realize I can get a warrant and come in?”

I ground my teeth together. “Office Fitzgerald, does the Chief know you’re texting a suspect and making repeat house calls without—.”

“They know about the juice bar, Miss Jones.” Officer Fitzgerald’s voice was softer than I’d heard it before. Almost kind. I leaned my weight against the doorframe and dragged air in through my teeth. “Look, I know it probably doesn’t seem like this, but I’m on your side, Price. Just let me in. I’m alone and waiting I’m at the back door.”

I killed the call and ran down the back stairs, gesturing for the men to stay in my bedroom and ignoring their shouts for information. True to his word, Officer Fitzgerald was waiting in the alley. I opened the door to let him into the apartment, but he gestured toward the thrift store instead. He closed the door softly behind us and I made for the velvet chair, but he called me back. “It’s better if we stay right here, Miss Jones. We can’t be seen from this angle.”

“Okay,” I said. I walked back slowly, not certain I wanted to be alone with the cop in a place I couldn’t be seen by anyone else. I stopped several feet away from him. “Why are you here, Officer?”

Officer Fitzgerald crossed his arms over his broad chest. “I’ve been a cop for a very long time, Miss Jones. I started my career in Portland and I gave twenty years hard service there; I’ve always prided myself on being a damn good cop. But a few years ago, in Portland, I came up against a number of cases… Well, let’s just say the cases were solved, but maybe I felt we didn’t put the right people behind bars. Maybe there were powerful people pulling strings from high up.” He paused and looked me straight in the eye. “Maybe they were trying to conceal the fact that there supernatural elements at play.”

I drew in a breath, choking on my own spit and collapsing into a fit of coughing. “I’m sorry, a supernatural element?” My eyes burned as I blinked away tears of shock. If I’d been expecting the portly officer to drop a bomb on me, it certainly wasn’t that one.

Officer Fitzgerald’s cheeks colored slightly. “Look, Miss Jones, I know how crazy that sounds, and I don’t expect you to believe me, but I need you to know that these people, the ones evading the law and bending the police force to their will, they’ll do whatever it takes to pin the blame on somebody else. Anybody else.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a thick wad of paper, folded in half, and handed it to me. I opened it and glanced at the first page before folding it over again. I didn’t need to read the words, I’d read the file a thousand times before.

The officer nodded to me as he reached for the door, turning back before he pulled it open. “I’m not saying you had anything to do with Agatha Bentley’s murder, Miss Jones, all I’m telling you is that somebody made sure that file landed on my desk this morning. Somebody who very much wants me to know about your money problems and the skeletons in your closet.”

I nodded, and he stared around the thrift shop. “Agatha Bentley died in this room, Miss Jones, and it was either somebody Mrs. Bentley knew so she didn’t put up a struggle, or somebody who’s able to use some serious voodoo to make it look that way. Somebody damn dangerous, so if you have anything you need to get in order before my superiors hand down the order to bring you in for questioning; any alibi you need to be corroborated, any people you can call, now’s the time to do it.”

I was still standing inside the thrift store when the back door banged shut and the three guys eased themselves into the space around me, waiting patiently for me to speak. I held the wad of paper out woodenly and let them take it from me. Even my voice was tired. “I think things might be even worse than we thought.”