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I laughed. “Sounds to me like you like her.”
Then it dawned on me. Matt had once liked Sarah, Hollie’s sister.
“What?” he said with a laugh. “Lucas, we’re not ten on the playground anymore. This woman went on the defensive immediately. To me that screams that she’s guilty.”
“Of what? Selling a product she believes in?”
“No! Of making my mother think some stupid spell is going to help her.”
Shrugging, I said, “Maybe you insulted her and she was defending herself, her belief.”
He rolled his eyes. “You don’t believe in all that hocus pocus bullshit, do you?”
“As a matter of fact, Matt, I do.”
Widening his eyes, he dropped back in his chair. “What? How? Why?”
“I’ve seen it firsthand. The powers of magick.”
He let out a humorless laugh then frowned when he saw that I was serious. “How?”
“It’s a long story, and one I don’t want to get into at work. You should come over for dinner, meet my wife.”
Blinking a few times, he groaned. “You married one, didn’t you?”
I lifted a brow. “By one, you mean…?”
“A witch? Does she really think she’s a witch?”
Nodding, I replied, “And so do I.”
Matt’s mouth dropped open. “Are you shitting me?”
“Matt, you yourself are a descendant of a so-called witch. Hell, almost everyone in this town is. You really believe that it’s all just a marketing trick to get people to come to Salem?”
“I think some of it is. Some folks who own stores in town don’t believe in it; they’re in it for the profit. Honestly, I do believe that some people around here are pagan. My mother said pagans are in touch with the earth and sky and that they strive to find inner peace. I’m all for that. But when they start making my mother buy their spell kits and crystals and all that shit, then no. I’m not about it.”
“But it’s fine for all the other people who come to Salem—or who seek it out elsewhere—to believe?”
“Yes. Lucas, I’m just worried about my mother. What if the cancer comes back and she thinks she can fight it with these herbs and shit?”
“First, why are you assuming the cancer will come back? Matt, you need to believe that it won’t. That your mother fought it.”
He closed his eyes. “I know. I know I should.”
“What’s the name of the store? I’ll ask my wife about the owner and see what she knows. If she doesn’t know them, her sister, aunt, or mom will.”
I held my breath, already knowing what his answer was going to be.
“The Covens’ Magick Cottage.”
I stared at Matt. “The Covens’ Magick Cottage?”
Matt nodded.
“You’re not going to like what I’m about to say.”
He frowned. “Do you know the owner?”
