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have a chance to come into her own.
    “So, ladies,” Meaghan said. “What’s up?”
    Before they could answer, Marnie started giggling. Jhoro threw her over his shoulder and, with a final dazzling smile, carried her out of the room. They heard him stomp up the stairs and slam his bedroom door shut.
    Susan frowned up at the ceiling. “How long has this been going on?”
    Meaghan shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I thought he was gay.”
    “Every woman in town is jealous of you,” Susan said with a sigh.
    Meaghan snorted. “He calls me Mama. I had to teach him how to use the big boy potty when he kept trying to go in the backyard.”
    Hearing a moan, Meaghan stared up at the ceiling with a frown. The bed springs began rhythmically squeaking. So much for foreplay. She grabbed the broom from the pantry and walked into the hallway. Banging on the ceiling with the broom handle, Meaghan shouted, “Hey, keep it down!”
    The squeaking stopped. Meaghan walked back into the kitchen, met Susan’s eye, and they both burst out laughing. Cassandra smiled shyly until Circe gave her a sour look.
    “God, he is a magnificent beast,” Susan said.
    It was Meaghan’s turn to roll her eyes. “You got the beast part right. It’s like living with a giant horny toddler.”
    Susan smiled, not fooled a bit by Meaghan’s complaints. “You like him too. Only in a mommy way.”
    Meaghan flushed, then smiled. “Oh, hell. Is it that obvious?”
    Susan merely smiled, then her face grew serious. “As much as I’ve enjoyed the show, Jhoro’s not who we need to talk about.”
    “You’re here about Jamie.” Meaghan felt her stomach clench. Susan was one of several witches who had spent time at the Smith’s house, babysitting the kids and keeping an eye on Jamie while Patrice was at work.
    Susan nodded. “Are you familiar with the concept of the poltergeist?”
    Meaghan relaxed a little. “Got a crash course this morning. What’s been going on?”
    Susan sighed with relief. “Oh, thank God. Did Natalie finally tell you? She’s . . . well, her devotion to Jamie is not helping right now. She refuses to see what’s going on.”
    “I only heard it from her because I witnessed it firsthand and Annie reported that the ghosts were in a tizzy.” Meaghan didn’t want to disclose details until she knew what other people had observed. Enough gossiping about Jamie was going on. No need to add to it.
    Confirming Meaghan’s caution, Circe leaned forward with an eager gleam in her eye. “What did you see?”
    Like I’d tell you, Stevie Nicks . “Some office supplies turning up in odd places. A levitating file folder or two.”
    Not exactly a lie.
    Circe looked disappointed, then rallied. “I was nearly decapitated by a flying plate at his house and there are slamming doors and weird smells.”
    Cassandra snorted. Circe glared at her, but this time Cassandra refused to be silenced. “It was a plastic Little Mermaid plate and it was moving so slow you caught it like a Frisbee. And the weird smell is that patchouli you’re wearing.”
    Atta girl . Meaghan smothered a laugh.
    Circe glowered, but had no response.
    “So,” Meaghan said. “I know all about it. Is there anything else?”
    “Let’s chat later, when we have more time,” Susan said. “I’ll give you a call.”
    Meaghan had come to recognize the I-have-something-important-to-say-but-not-in-front-of-the-tourists/clueless/newbies look. Which meant things were worse than Susan was willing to let on in front of the apprentices.
    “I’ll be home all evening,” Meaghan said, a sinking feeling in her gut. “And I should be in the office all day tomorrow.”
     

CHAPTER EIGHT
    A fter the witches left, Meaghan reheated the small bowl of pasta Jhoro had abandoned in favor of sex, but all it did was sharpen her appetite. If Russ didn’t return soon, Meaghan might be forced to cook. No good could come of that.
    She found a bag of organic, blue-corn tortilla chips in the pantry—Russ