I returned to the parlor and accepted another glass of wine from Barton, who raised his eyebrows. I declined to clue him in beyond a slight nod to indicate that Agnes had agreed to our plan. Lawrence came in a second after me, and he avoided me. Dinner passed in an awkward blur, and Barton drove us back to the cabin.
“So Agnes was agreeable?” he asked once we were off the property.
“Yes, she was, if reluctantly.” I relaxed slightly into the front passenger seat, although Lawrence faced forward and stared at the back of Barton’s head, likely refusing to look at me.
Lawrence spoke through clenched teeth. “Yeah, I’m ready to get this over with. Defeat the witch. Get back to Atlanta, and…” He rubbed his eyes, and my irritation melted. What awaited him back in the place where he lived? His t
