by N. M. Howell
“Are you all right? You look like you just seen a ghost,” Officer Bert said to me as he pushed himself up off the chair. He offered a curt nod, which turned immediately into a frown. “I appreciate you coming so quickly, Priscilla.”
“Price, please,” I said to him, offering him a small smile. I placed the crate down beside me. I suspected that so long as I didn’t touch the cats or say any magic words they wouldn’t turn into humans, but it wasn’t a hypothesis I was willing to test in front of a cop who thought I was guilty of murdering an old lady. No matter how cute they were as men, or how nice it would be to have them standing between me and Officer Bert’s long arm of the law, opening the crate would be a bad idea. The thought of long bodily appendages brought an entirely different image to my mind and I straightened my shoulders. Get it together, Price, you’re not a damn teenager. I turned to the cop. “Thank you for coming to see me, Officer. I’ve got to admit, I didn’t expect you to let yourself in. Do you have a key? Were you and Agatha close?”
I didn’t want to aggravate the cop, but it would be no harm to show him I wasn’t some two-bit bimbo he could harass and bully into admitting guilt. And if he didn’t have a key? Well, he’d better have a darn warrant or I’d be slapping a charge for breaking and entering on the table. The officer looked down at me with a creased brow, drawing himself to his full height. “The door was open, Miss Jones. You called for me to come in.”
Behind his back, Agatha pretended to stroke the officers shoulders, her hands creeping down his arms and toward the buckle of his belt. I let out a strangled yelp and the police officer took a step forward with his hands outstretched. “Miss Jones?”
I transformed my cry into a cough, shooting Agatha a poisonous glare, and gestured toward the crate. “Allergies, sorry. I inherited Agatha’s cats, but we’re not exactly compatible.” The officer turned his attention to the cats as they hissed in protest, and I grabbed his arm, pulling him away from the crate before he could ask me any questions about Agatha’s over-sized pets. “Of course, I opened the door for you, all this cat business has me flustered,” I said in my sweetest voice. I motioned for him to sit back down as I sat on a chair across the room. “Can I offer you something to eat? Some coffee?”
He shook his head and began pacing the room, ignoring my invitation to sit. “I’m afraid this isn’t a casual visit, Miss Price. I’m sure you’ve heard by now that Agatha’s death is being investigated as suspicious. And with you turning up only days after her death, some days after she changed her will to leave everything to you, well, I’m sure you’ve already figured out that we’re going to have to investigate your relationship with Mrs Bentley.”
No beating around the bush for Bert. Awesome. I took a moment to think of a suitable response, but my mind was blank. “Look, I know it seems suspicious, officer, but I can assure you that I had nothing to do with Mrs Bentley’s death. I never even met her. I was supposed to meet her yesterday to pick up the keys. I was supposed to come work for her, for heaven’s sake. The last thing I expected was to show up at her own funeral with no warning. I have to admit, it was quite a shock. And now I’m being accused of murder?”
“Nobody’s accusing you of anything just yet, Miss Jones.” Officer Bert nodded as he rubbed his chin. “I just wanted to come in to warn you what’s to come.”
He stopped pacing and finally met my eyes, his expression grim. I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat as I looked up at him. “And what exactly is that, officer?”
Bert paused a long moment, our eyes locked on each other. “I’ll be in touch, Miss Jones. If you’re planning on leaving the city, please make sure you let us know first.”
Then he turned on his heels and marched out of the apartment, the door slamming shut with a thud behind him. I let out a stress-filled breath I’d been holding, my pulse racing and my heart threatening to burst from my chest.
“I never was a fan of that chubby bastard,” Agatha spat as she stuck her tongue out at the door he’d exited through.
I pursed my lips and glared at the old woman. “Really? Then do you care to explain why you invited him into the apartment and practically ghost assaulted him?”
From the crate, one of the cats made a retching sound, and I smirked in approval. Agatha scowled at the crate. “Jeez, can’t a ghost have a little fun? I said I wasn’t fond of him, I never said he didn’t have something to warm my old bones.” She gave me a sly grin. “I was always a sucker for a husky body. And a huge pe—”
“Oh, wow.” I clamped my hands over my eyes and spun away from her leer. “You have a way with words, don’t you?”
Agatha shrugged as she disappeared through the far wall, leaving me alone with the cats. “It’s all about the audience, girlie. I don’t have much to say to someone with a brain the size of a pea.” Her voice echoed through the halls as she disappeared.
“Ha, my brain is the size of a pea? I’m not the one trying to ghost-grope innocent men,” I muttered as I unlatched the crate. All three cats poured out at once, and one by one, they brushed up against me and turned back into human form.
“It worked. Sweet,” Finn chuckled. “Now if we can only figure out what it is that turns us back into damn cats, then we’ll have the whole furry issue sorted.”
I pulled the apron from where I’d tucked it into the waistband of my jeans and tossed it at him, averting my eyes immediately. Or almost immediately, at least. “Okay, we’ve got to figure something out about the whole lack of clothing thing.”
Pussy shrugged and stretched his toned body, a wide grin on his face. “I don’t know; it’s kind of freeing.” He lay down on the sofa, lounging back and running his hands through his blond hair as if he had no the cares in the world.
I stood up and stamped toward my bedroom, shaking my head as I passed Tom’s inked muscles and caught a glimpse of his futile attempt to cover his essential parts with his large hands. “Find some clothes, boys. Or I’m going to let Tracy give you the snip.”
I sat on my bed for a long moment and rested my head in my hands. Officer Fitzgerald’s words ran through my addled brain. I didn’t even know the exact date when Agatha had died, but it didn’t really matter. I didn’t have an alibi for any of the days I had spent on my own in the pool house after Gerard had announced he was proposing to Ivana. Unless empty bottles of organic wine would be acceptable as witnesses to corroborate my story, I had a crate full of those to prove I’d spent my first few days as Gerard ’s ex-fiancée wisely. I groaned at the memory and buried my face in the pillow. I quickly wiped my eyes clean as a gentle knock sounded on the door. “What do you want?”
“It’s Muffin,” a soft voice came from the other side of the door. “Err, I mean Finn. Finlay. Can I come in?”
“Are you naked?” I asked.
Finn’s reply was a snort of laughter and my lips curved as I imagined the amusement in those emerald eyes and on those full lips. “I found jeans downstairs in the store, but I came back up before I picked up a shirt. I can go back down and look for one?”
“Nah, it’s okay. Come in.” I let out a sigh and slunk back on the bed, gazing up at the ceiling above me as he eased the door open. “Might as well come join my pity party.” I stared at the empty space behind Finn. “Where are the rest of the guys?”
I tried not to stare as Finn padded across the floor in his bare feet. The faded jeans were slung low on his hips, and I found my gaze drawn to the shaded lines between his defined muscles, imagining how they would feel under my fingertips. The mattress sank heavily beneath his weight as he perched on the side of the bed, rolling me a few inches closer to him. “Fluffy and Pussy turned back into cats again.”
My lips curved. That stupid cat’s name, it never got old. “And you didn’t? Weird.”
Finn shrugged, and I scooched over onto the other side of the bed, gesturing for him to lie down beside me. He sunk back into the pillow and cradled his head on his arm as he turned to face me. “It’s all messed up, isn’t it
?”
“A ghost, three cat-men, and an idiot who’s going to get charged with murder? Yeah, it’s pretty messed up,” I said.
Finn’s brow furrowed. “You’re not going to be charged with anything.” He reached out and brushed a strand of hair off my cheek with a fingertip as gentle as a butterfly’s wing. I held my breath as his stare landed on my lips. “And you’re not an idiot.” His frown deepened. “I don’t know what the hell is going on here, Price, or why we’re not cats anymore, or if I was ever someone else before being Aggy’s cat, but I’m glad it was somebody like you that broke the spell.” He paused, dragging his green gaze away from my lips and up to my eyes. “Somebody kind, and smart, and strong. Somebody who’ll stick around to help us figure this mess out. And maybe I’m not as smart as Fluffy, but I’m pretty certain most girls would have taken one look at us and Aggy and run for the hills.”
I rolled onto my back, away from the intensity of his stare. “Oh, man, you’ve got me all wrong, Finn. I can think of five-hundred words to describe myself, but smart and strong?” My laugh was a bitter hiccup. “But I’ll stick around, all right. I can’t exactly leave, not after what Officer Bert said; I’m not fugitive material. And Agatha deserves to know the truth.” I paused, chewing on the corner of my lip. “You guys deserve to know the truth about yourselves, too.”
Finn threaded his fingers gently through mine and we both stared at the evening light as it across the ceiling. “If Aggy really was murdered, somebody has to know enough to clear you name,” he mused.
“Who, though? Frankie was a bust. He’s probably committed a few crimes against fashion in his time, but murdering Agatha?” I raised an eyebrow at Finn and he nodded in agreement. “I feel like I’m swimming against the tide here. I am working with practically no information. Why didn’t they suspect murder straight away? What changed their minds? Who else wanted Agatha dead if it wasn’t Frankie?” I rolled onto my side and propped myself up on my elbow. “What about Agatha’s cousin? Do you think it’s worth sniffing him out or was Frankie trying to throw me off the scent?”
“Sniffing him out,” Finn chuckled. I slapped his chest, surprised by the silky smoothness of his skin, and he grinned. “What? I thought you were making a cat joke.”
I wrinkled my nose at him. “Okay, well, that would have been a dog joke, and I wasn’t. I was asking a serious question.”
“A dog joke?” Finn placed his hand over his heart. “You wound me. And I thought we were getting along just fine.” I pursed my lips and Finn raised his arms in surrender. “Okay, okay, the cousin.” He stared at the wall for a moment. “I remember him. He didn’t come around often, maybe once a year around the holidays. Aggy was always rude to him, but that’s just Aggy. I actually think she kind of liked him coming over; she used to get all dressed up and take her rollers out before he came. But…”
His voice trailed off and he frowned. I touched his shoulder. “But?”
“They had some sort of a falling out a few months ago,” he said.
I raised my eyebrows. “Over the retirement home?” I prompted. “Like Frankie said?”
“Maybe?” Finn screwed his eyes shut. “I don’t think it was just the house. He wanted her to get away from the city. He said she wasn’t safe here.” He sat up and a sudden burst of light illuminated the forest of his eyes. “He said she was playing with fire in Salem.”
“Playing with fire, eh?” I lay back into the pillows and Finn did the same.”Certainly sounds like there was something funny going on in the Bentley clan.” I turned my head to face Finn and something rippled in my gut. “I’m going to find who did this, Finn. I’m going to get answers for Agatha, and find out how to break your spell and give you your life back, and then I’m going to open my damn juice bar.”
“Atta girl,” Finlay said as he stroked my cheek with his large, warm hand. “Not just a pretty face,” he murmured, and for the thousandth time that day, I felt my skin turned red.
This time, I didn’t care.
Chapter Fifteen
I must have fallen asleep, because I was woken by soft rays of light from the rising sun flitting through the bedroom window. I yawned, stretched, and allowed myself to relax for a blissful moment. I couldn’t remember the last time I had slept so soundly. It had probably been years before, back when Gerard and I had first started to share a bed and I felt like nothing could ever harm me as long as I was in his arms. The stupid, naivety of youth.
I tensed, suddenly aware of the warm presence at my side. Holding in a shriek, I eased to one side as I turned to see Finn lying beside me, naked from the waist up. His arm was draped across my side and his perfect features were angelic in the morning sun—nose straight, jaw strong, full lips balanced by dark brows and lashes, all topped off by that short auburn hair. He was beautiful, no doubt about it. Pity he was a part-time cat.
I slid out from under his arm and tiptoed across the room, careful not to wake him. Fuelled with a newfound energy, I rooted for a towel and some fresh clothes. This was it. This was the day I took control of my sorry life. I would hunt down Agatha’s cousin and find out what the hell he knew about her death, and I’d bring all the evidence back to Officer Fitzgerald and clear my name so I could open my new smoothie bar and start a whole new life. Who the hell needed Gerard and his yogalates and money? I was a strong, independent woman, and I was taking control of my destiny with no man to hold me back.
“You know, you could make a guy feel pretty cheap by sneaking off without saying goodbye.” I dropped my towel at the unexpected sound of Finn’s teasing voice and he yawned lazily, stretching his long arms over his head, every muscle in his body rippling.
I forced myself to keep my eyes fixed on his face, refusing to let my gaze wander. “Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you.” I picked my towel up and held it in the air. “Just taking a shower.”
The door swung open and a mussed blond head appeared. “Shower? Is that an invite?”
I crossed my arms over the soft pink towel, holding it to my chest. “Well, well, look what the cat dragged in. No tail today, Pussy?”
“Meow, look who has her claws out this morning,” he purred. “I love it when you’re feisty.”
Shooting him my best attempt at an evil glare I slipped into the en suite bathroom and turned full circle, searching for a shower. I emerged a minute later to find Pussy and Finn engaged in some sort of wrestling match on my bed. I raised my eyebrows and cleared my throat to get their attention. “Okay, firstly, stop that weird cat-fighting thing you’re doing. Secondly, is there a shower in the main bathroom?”
“I doesn’t work,” Pussy said, flopping down onto the bed beside Finn. I stared at the skin-tight red underwear he was wearing for a moment and he gave a throaty laugh. “Like what you see, Pricetag? You’re always welcome to get a closer look if Muffin hasn’t worn you out after your night together.”
I flung my towel at his barely covered crotch and gave him a middle-fingered salute. “I’d rather suck lemons than get anywhere near your weird little panties, creepbag, and all that happened in this bed was two people sleeping like babies. Thanks for your overzealous interest.” I tapped the floor with my bare foot. “Now, seriously, where’s Aggy’s shower? I stink.”
Pussy rolled off the bed and draped the towel over my shoulders like a cloak, brushing my hair to one side with firm fingers. His grin seemed to slide over my skin as he sauntered past me. “I wasn’t joking about the shower. There’s one in the main bathroom but it doesn’t work.” He paused on the threshold and glanced over his shoulder. “I guess I could mess around with it later and see if I can get it working. I’m sure you could think of a way to pay me for my service…”
Before I could fling anything else at him, he disappeared into the corridor, red satin clad buttocks winking at me with every step he took. I huffed to myself in irritation as I stamped into the bathroom and twisted the faucet on the tub. Finn dragged himself off the bed, that easy smile of his plastered across his fac
e. “Don’t let Pussy get to you; it’ll only make him want to tease you more.”
“I know, I know, he just gets right under my skin. I’ve no idea how you and Tom put up with him for so damn long, I’d have smothered him in his sleep,” I grumbled.
Finn grinned. “Don’t let Officer Bert Fitzgerald hear you saying things like that.”
“Very funny,” I said, watching his reflection in the age-stained mirror. I hugged my arms to my chest. “What Pussy said—we just fell asleep, right?”
Finn’s skin flushed across his cheekbones. “Of course, you fell asleep on my arm before we’d even finished talking about Agatha’s cousin. I’d never have stayed otherwise, but I didn’t want wake you.” His mouth curved at the edges and he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “And maybe I kind of knew the guys would be a little jealous if I got a chance to sleep in your bed and they didn’t,” he admitted. I raised my eyebrows. “Sorry, Pussy was just so pleased with himself because he had his seven minutes in the closet with you; I don’t usually get a chance to get one up on him.”
I took a step closer to examine his face. “You’re younger than the other two, right? Only a few years out of college?”
A look of puzzlement crossed Finn’s face and he ran a hand over his short hair. “I think I’m the youngest,” he mumbled. “It always feels that way at least. But I was the first to get here.” He screwed his eyes shut for a moment. “I was Aggy’s first cat. I was alone here for a little while until Tom arrived. Pussy came last.”
I snorted. “Oh, wow, there’s a mental image I could have done without.” I wrinkled my nose. “Can you please not use that name, especially not in that sentence.”
“You don’t like to think about Pussy coming last?” Finn asked, widening his eyes in faux innocence. “You’d rather if Pussy came first? Because, honestly, I think he’d like that better, too.”
