Chapter 9

9

Harlow stared once moreat the clock. Only five minutes had passed since the last time she’d looked. Her sister was due at the house any minute now, and Harlow just couldn’t sit still. She rose from the couch, glanced out the window, and when she didn’t see anything other than her Subaru, she retreated to the kitchen, determined to keep her hands busy until she heard the rumble of the 1965 Mustang she missed almost as much as she missed her sister.

Cookies.

That’s what she’d do. She’d make cookies. What could be better than walking into a new home that smelled like freshly baked cookies?

Harlow knew cookies weren’t going to fix everything that was wrong between her and Imogen, but it was better than waiting at the window like some sort of crazed lunatic.

After finding a mixing bowl and a cookie sheet, Harlow got busy making her sister’s favorite. Lemon shortbread. Then, once all the ingredients were already mixed, she started to second guess herself. Would Imogen see this for what it was? Some sort of bribe to get on her sister’s good side?

Probably, but it was too late now.

Harlow had just put the cookie sheet in the oven when she heard the loud rumble of the Mustang.

Determined not to look too eager, she started to load the dishwasher. But when she heard the slam of the car door, she couldn’t stand it anymore. She wiped her hands on a dishtowel and hurried out the front door. The Mustang was parked next to the Subaru, but her sister was nowhere to be found.

“Imogen?” she called as she rushed down the porch stairs, glancing around.

No answer.

“Hey, sis, where are you?” Harlow moved to stand next to the Mustang and noted that the car was packed with Imogen’s personal items. Her purse was still in the front seat, and the car key was still in the ignition.

“Imog—” Harlow started to call again but was cut off by her sister.

“Relax,” Imogen said in an irritated tone as she appeared from the side of the house holding a cigarette between two fingers.

Harlow’s gaze went right to the cigarette and then she met Imogen’s defiant eyes.

“I’m an adult. I’m well aware of the risks involved. I don’t need a lecture.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Harlow lied.

“Right. Sure you weren’t.” Imogen put the cigarette out on the sole of her shoe and then tucked the butt into a baggie she carried in her pocket.

After a silent thankful prayer that Imogen hadn’t taken to smoking in her car, Harlow cleared her throat and said, “Let me help you get this stuff inside.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Imogen went over to the driver’s side, grabbed the keys, and then opened the trunk. It was full of suitcases and duffle bags.

“I know I don’t have to,” Harlow said with a sigh. “I want to.”

“Suit yourself,” Imogen said with a shrug and grabbed a couple of bags before heading inside.

Harlow stared after her, feeling exhausted already. Then she grabbed some bags and followed her sister inside.

Once the car was unloaded and the shortbread cookies were cooling on a rack, Harlow stood in the kitchen, not at all sure what to do with herself. Imogen was holed up in her room, already unpacking. She’d barely said two words to Harlow. And honestly, Harlow was starting to lose patience. She didn’t deserve this. Imogen was entitled to her feelings, but she didn’t have the right to treat Harlow like a pariah in her own home.

Deciding it was better to catch flies with honey rather than vinegar, she made her sister her favorite cup of tea, put some shortbread cookies on a plate, and then headed for Imogen’s room.

“Gen?” Harlow said outside at the door. “I brought you something.”

There was no answer.

“Imogen?” Harlow tried again. “I have tea.”

She heard movement, but there was still no answer.

“Okay, listen, that’s enough of this,” Harlow said through the door. “I know you’re in there. Ignoring me is beyond childish. Open the door or⁠—”

The door flew open, and Imogen let out a surprised gasp when her eyes met Harlow’s. She quickly took the earbuds out of her ears and pressed a hand to her heart. “Damn, Harlow. You startled me.”

“I knocked,” Harlow said tartly. “Twice.”

She held the earbuds up. “I had my music on. Sorry.” Then her gaze landed on the plate of cookies and her eyes lit up. “Are those for me?”

“Yes,” Harlow said, feeling some of the tension drain from her body as Imogen took one and popped it in her mouth. “I made you blackberry tea, too.”

Imogen smiled, something Harlow hadn’t seen in months. “Thank you.” She grabbed the mug and took a long sip. “You have perfect timing. I was just going to soak in the tub for a bit. My body aches after my drive. Cookies and tea are just what I needed.”

Harlow hung back as Imogen took the plate of cookies and disappeared into the bathroom. Then she shook her head and wondered what in the world had just happened. The woman who’d just walked out of her bedroom was not the same one Harlow had met outside just an hour before.

Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, baby. Harlow heard her grandmother’s voice in her head and decided her grandmother was right. If Imogen was trying to leave the attitude behind, the best thing Harlow could do was let her.

* * *

“What doyou want to do for dinner?” Harlow asked her sister when she finally emerged from her bedroom. After taking the world’s longest bath, Imogen had once again closed herself up in her room. Harlow assumed she was unpacking but didn’t really know.

“Is there some place in town where we can get pizza?” Imogen asked.

“Uh, sure.” Harlow thought about all the fresh ingredients she’d purchased earlier that day. “Or I can make tuna salad or tomato basil pasta. I found some freshly made pasta at the grocery store in town⁠—”

“I’m really in the mood for pizza. Come on. I’ll even let you drive.” Imogen whipped her keys out of her pocket and tossed them to her sister.

Harlow caught them easily and grinned. “You’re on.”

Both sisters were laughing when Harlow peeled out of the driveway like old times and floored it on the back roads that led to town. “Gods, I missed this,” Harlow said with a happy sigh.

Imogen glanced over at her. “You really did, didn’t you?”

“Sure. Almost as much as I missed you,” she said with a wink, trying to keep it playful.

Imogen groaned. “Don’t be cheesy. You know if you want to buy the car back, you can.”

“No way. What would you drive?” Harlow shook her head. “Besides, it’s not really practical here. I told you that.”

Imogen glanced around at the scenery. It was late March, and the well paved roads were clear. “When? For two months of the year? What about the rest of the time? Look at you. I haven’t seen you this happy since before…” She trailed off and shook her head. “Never mind. It’s just so obvious you love this thing, and I…” She shrugged. “It’s okay, but I think I’d like something more modern.”

Harlow glanced at her. “Do you have money for something else?”

“Well, no. But eventually. If I can get a job here and save some money, I figured if you bought back the Mustang, I’d at least have a decent down payment. I know my credit’s not the greatest right now, not after last year, but if you co-signed… I dunno, it’s just a thought.”

Was that why Imogen was suddenly being nice to Harlow? She wanted her to help her buy a new car, even though she was living off Harlow and didn’t have a job? The thought left a wave of disappointment in the pit of Harlow’s stomach, but she didn’t ask. Instead, she said, “Yeah, maybe. When you’re settled in more, we can talk about it.”

Imogen beamed at her.

The truth was Harlow didn’t mind helping her sister at all. She’d made a very good living as a celebrity ghost hunter, and during that time, she’d been careful with her money. Her retirement account was funded, and there was more than enough stashed away should Harlow want to buy a house or build something in the future. In practical terms, Harlow didn’t have to work. There was enough to fund her simple lifestyle, but the job at Equinox kept her busy and she really enjoyed it. Still, she didn’t want to feel taken advantage of, and after a year of getting the cold shoulder from Imogen, the fact that she was suddenly being nice and asking for help just left Harlow feeling cold.

Maybe she was wrong. Maybe this was just Imogen’s way of breaking the ice. And it really wasn’t her fault that her credit had taken a huge hit. That had been just one of the nasty side effects when the spirit had taken over Imogen’s body.

It didn’t take long before they were parked and walking into Mystyk Pizza. It was the first time Harlow had visited the town favorite. The walls were covered in stunning burnt-wood art. She was so fascinated she couldn’t tear her gaze away.

“Look at the fireplaces,” Imogen said. “Whoever spelled those is a powerful fire witch.”

Harlow finally looked around and noted that flames in the fireplaces were continuously morphing into familiar scenes from around town. There was even one that depicted a pair of golf carts racing down by the river that made her chuckle.

“Great place, Harlow,” Imogen said, touching Harlow’s arm.

“It really is, isn’t it?”

They followed the hostess to a table near one of the fireplaces and took a seat.

“I wonder if they’re hiring,” Imogen said as she studied her menu.

Harlow lowered her own menu and peered at her sister. “You’re not going to try to find something in the wedding planning industry?”

“In Keating Hollow? I know it’s gorgeous here, but it doesn’t exactly look like a hotbed of wedding activity.”

“You’d be surprised. The Pelshes have a winery. I know they do events there. Other than that, I think most end up having weddings on family property. But I bet they could use a good wedding planner. Maybe you could hang a shingle out and strike out on your own,” Harlow suggested.

Imogen snorted. “Sure. And what would I live on until I found some clients?”

“It’s just a suggestion,” Harlow said, trying to tread carefully. “But if it was something you’re interested in, I’m sure we can come up with a business plan. Besides, there’s nothing stopping you from getting a part time job while you get it off the ground.”

“Hmm, maybe.” Imogen went back to studying her menu, and Harlow took that as a good sign.

After they ordered, Imogen leaned forward with her elbows propped on the table. “So if I were to start a wedding planning business, I’d need to scope out places around town that would work for weddings and make a list of possible vendors. Do you know anyone who could help me with that? Someone whose brain I could pick?”

“Sure. Wanda Danvers would be a good one to start with. She’s the town realtor and knows everyone. Maybe try Hanna Silver at Incantation Café. Her family owns the winery and she’s good friends with the Townsend family. They’ve been here forever and own The Keating Hollow Brewery.”

Imogen nodded as she typed those notes into her phone. “I’d need a website and business cards and some sort of office space.” She looked up. “Renting something is out of the question, obviously, but if there’s a space we could clear to set up a desk at the house, that would work.”

“Sure. There’s space in the kitchen,” Harlow said, her heart feeling lighter than it had in months. “And as far as a website, I have space on my hosting site. It’s paid up for the next three years, so you wouldn’t even have to pay for that.”

Imogen sobered. “You still have your website?”

Harlow swallowed a groan. “Well, it has a big note that says I’ve retired, but the site is still there with referrals to other ghost hunters if someone is looking for one. It’s a five-year hosting plan that I’d already paid for, so there was no sense in just nuking it all.”

“I see.” Imogen nodded slowly as if she were processing that information. “That’s good, I guess.”

“Free is always good,” Harlow said flippantly, trying not to get her hackles up. All she was trying to do was help her sister. She didn’t know why everything always had to come back to her ghost-hunting past.

“True.” Imogen let out a small chuckle. “Well, that’s a decent start anyway. I’ll need to get in touch with Hanna and Wanda.”

“Hey, I was invited to a girls’ night with Hanna tomorrow night. I’m willing to bet Wanda will be there. They said you’re welcome. Why don’t you come along and talk to them then?”

“Perfect.” Imogen put her phone away and smiled up at the waiter who’d just arrived and placed the pizza in front of them. “Looks delicious,” she said, eyeing the man with the sun-kissed skin and bright blue eyes instead of the pizza.

Harlow smiled to herself, pleased to see her sister starting to relax.

“If he’s any indication of the men in town, I think I’m going to like it here,” Imogen said as she watched the waiter retreat. He glanced back at her and winked, causing Imogen’s face to turn bright pink.

A laugh bubbled out of Harlow’s lips and suddenly both she and Imogen were giggling in a way they hadn’t since they were teenagers.

Harlow was still chuckling when her phone started to ring. When’s Shaun’s name popped up on the screen, she frowned. “Shaun? What’s wrong?”

A moment later, she ended the call. “We have to go. Cash is in trouble.”

“Cash is here? In Keating Hollow?” Imogen asked, her eyes wide as she rose from her seat.

“Yeah. It’s kind of a long story,” Harlow said, digging in her bag for her wallet.

What happened?” Imogen asked.

“A ghost attacked him.” Harlow threw some money on the table and started to stride toward the door. When she realized Imogen wasn’t with her, she glanced back and spotted her sister standing frozen by the table. “Gen?”

“I can’t do this again,” she said as her face drained of color. “You know how I feel about you hunting ghosts.”

“I have to,” Harlow said, hating that she’d put her sister in this position. But what else could she do? In a very quiet voice, she added, “It’s Cash. If anything happens to him…” She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ignore the flash of pain that was seizing her heart. Every second that she stood there arguing with Imogen was one more that she was away from Cash when he needed her.

When Harlow opened her eyes, she saw a look of pure terror on Imogen’s face. But when her sister spoke, she said, “Fine. For Cash. But then I’ll have no choice but to find somewhere else to live. I can’t do this again.”

Harlow’s heart nearly broke in two. She felt like her sister was forcing her to make the choice between her and Cash all over again. But this time, Cash was in danger and there was just no way that Harlow could walk away when she knew she could help. “I’m sorry to hear that, Gen. I really am. I’d promise you it will never happen again, but we both know I can’t do that.”

Imogen gave her a nod, and without another word she brushed past Harlow and headed outside to the Mustang. Harlow was right on her heels, and after tracking Cash on her phone, she put the car in gear and sped across town.