Cuff Master

by Frances Stockton

  “Coming,” Remy agreed. “Morgan, love, I’ll follow y’all to the ER.”

  “Thanks, Remy,” she said.

  Alex and Remy disappeared. Ethan really didn’t want Remy to join them at Doc’s office. But what could he do? Morgan considered the guy her friend. If he went caveman on her, he’d only make matters worse.

  A chilled hand touched his. Ethan looked down and took her hand between his palms to will warmth into Morgan’s fingertips. “I really am sorry. He’s not the man I want, Ethan. You are.”

  “I believe you. Might not get over my jealousy easily, but I trust you. Hear what I’m saying?”

  “Thank you,” she replied, grinning slightly, but her discomfort was too strong right then.

  Ryan Hathaway continued to administer his treatment. By the time he gave Morgan a couple of injections, Remy and Alex returned with warm, dry clothes.

  “Ease up on the growling. I need to change her, buddy,” Ryan told Ethan, pausing when he’d tried to lift the blanket.

  “Sorry?” Ethan questioned.

  “You’re growling the way Phalen does when someone looks at Cassie too long,” Doc answered. “She’s yours. I get that. I really don’t need a busted nose tonight.”

  “Yeah, you can’t hurt him, Ethan. I’ve got plans for Doc later,” Alex supplied calmly, the humor in his voice something that took some getting used to.

  “Alex, make sure no one comes near us,” Ethan told his friend.

  “God, you’re as bossy as Phalen. Talk about your déjà vu. Kind of hot,” Alex teased.

  “If you’re not careful, I’ll unleash Taran on your scrawny ass.”

  “He has a great ass,” Morgan whispered, barely opening her eyes, but making them all laugh.

  “Who does? Alex or Taran?” Remy interrupted. “My money’s on Alex’s.”

  Doc stilled again, lifting his eyes to zero in on the man who’d spoken. “You will not look at my man’s ass, thank you. Who the hell are you anyway?”

  “Friend of Morgan’s. Name’s Remy. I was at the wedding.”

  “That’s where I’ve seen you before. Just keep your eyes and your thoughts to yourself,” Ryan warned.

  “No problem, my man, trying to lighten the mood.” Remy lifted his hands in a gesture of peace.

  “Ethan?” Morgan called out sleepily.

  “Everything’s okay. You’re going to be just fine.”

  “I meant Taran. Sam thinks he has a great ass too. Don’t tell him though, shush…not supposed to know. Girls talk, you know…”

  Before Ethan could respond, Morgan was asleep. Now those were some kickass painkillers Doc had given her.

  Thank God, the pain on her face over the last few minutes scared the fuck out of him. For every throb she’d felt, he’d experienced. She’d been nauseous and trying not to throw up in front of all of them.

  Alex made good on his promise to clear the area. Once Doc and Ethan were alone with Morgan, they methodically removed the damp blanket and her soaked clothing.

  The hell of it was, even drenched, she looked phenomenal. Fortunately, he and Doc didn’t linger over changing her and Ethan didn’t show his shock when he spied her black and red lace panties and Victoria’s Secret bra.

  Just the sight of her pretty underwear had caused a rush of blood to fill his cock. If he wasn’t careful, he would be at full mast and say to hell with who was around to see it.

  For now, he’d keep his dick in check and take care of Morgan.

  As soon as she was dressed in big, ugly sweats, some socks and one of Alex’s shirts, Ethan scooped her up and stood. “Okay, Doc, where do we go?”

  “EMT has a stretcher all set for her,” Doc said, gesturing to the patient medic. Ethan gently set her on the stretcher and covered Morgan with a soft blanket.

  Winslow came up to them. “The inspector couldn’t find anything except her cellphone. The thing’s ruined by the water. If you dry it out with salt, it might still be of use.” He handed it to Ryan, who pocketed it for the time being.

  “It’s fortunate the fire was minor,” Winslow continued. “It is possible someone went into the ladies room for a smoke and failed to douse it correctly. Mrs. Bailey mentioned there was a slight scent of smoke in there, but didn’t think it was from a cigarette.”

  “Still think Morgan set the fire, Chief Winslow?” Ethan asked.

  “No. Mrs. Bailey claimed Ms. Everhart came in complaining of a bad headache and talked nonsense about ghosts or some such thing. My wife gets those migraines, causes all sorts of weird hallucinations. The last thing she’d do is smoke when she feels that bad.”

  “You might want to talk to Spencer Bailey,” Alex advised. “He booked the party for Bailey and Stratham Investments. He might know more than you think.”

  “Mr. Bailey was giving a presentation at the time the sprinkler went off. There are twenty witnesses to attest to it. No one recalls seeing who might have left for a smoke. Smokers in the bar admitted they went outside to light up.”

  “Someone attacked Morgan Everhart, Chief Winslow. I aim to find out who it was and why. I’ll be in contact with Danvers police to conduct a full investigation. As for now, we’re taking her to the ER to be treated.”

  “Is there anything else I can do?” Winslow asked. “I’m real sorry about your lady, Detective.”

  “If you could meet with Alex when we leave and get a list of names of everyone from the party and bar, that would help. The bathroom’s a crime scene. Be sure it remains off limits until a CSU team can collect evidence.”

  “They might need that cellphone,” Winslow reported.

  Ryan didn’t think twice about turning it back over to the chief. “My prints will be on it. I’d used latex gloves while treating Morgan, but they were off when you gave me the phone.”

  “I’ll let the lab folks know,” the chief stated. “Go on and take care of the lady. If we have any questions, we’ll be in touch and an officer will come by the emergency room to take a full statement.”

  Ethan knew he couldn’t reopen the files on Jennifer Bailey’s case tonight. He and Sam had closed it and Terrence Mills was in prison. There was no doubt that Mills had killed those girls. How and why Jennifer was found among them was a mystery.

  There was nothing to stop him from looking into what happened to Erica White. She’d disappeared after Samantha exposed the psychic as a fraud.

  He’d check his department’s records to see if anyone in Massachusetts had reported her missing or if she’d set up shop in another state. If anyone could find Ms. White, he and Sam could.

  Gathering his thoughts together, Ethan looked down at Morgan. “Time to get you to the hospital, honey, just to make sure nothing’s broken.” Even though she was sleeping, he spoke softly and bent low at the waist to kiss her cheek. Only then did he let the medic wheel her outside, but he remained right at her side.

  “I’ll take my Audi and meet you two at the ER,” Doc told Ethan when they were outside. “My team will be there when you arrive.”

  “Thank you, Doc.” Ethan didn’t much care where anyone else was or who spoke on their way outside. It wasn’t until he was in the back of the ambulance with Morgan safely that he relaxed.

  Sonofabitch! Anger nailed him in the gut so hard, he saw stars.

  Some motherfucker had hurt his woman. If it was the last thing he did, he’d make Bailey or whoever did it pay. He’d find the dirt on the bastard and put him in the same prison as Terrence Mills.

  Prison justice showed no mercy on assholes who hurt children. Bailey would be lucky to make it one night before he became someone’s bitch or…dead.

  * * * * *

  The warm, comfortable weight of a feline body was curled contentedly on Morgan’s tummy. Loving the calming, continuous purr, she grinned and gently hugged the kitty visiting her.

  Opening her eyes, she found herself eye to eye with a very big, long-haired gray tabby.

  “Hello there, handsome boy,” she greeted, moving to scra
tch behind Samson’s ears. “You’re getting to be as big and strong as your namesake, I see. Even your hair’s long and soft.”

  He’d grown so much since she’d last seen him. He and his sister, Delilah, were nine-month-old Maine Coon mixes and belonged to Cassie and Phalen. They were the sweetest of cats.

  Sometime soon, Morgan wanted to get one, or maybe a dog. A big dog, she loved big dogs.

  Still stroking the cat’s ears, she paused. Kitten notwithstanding, she wasn’t alone on the bed. The cozy mattress dipped slightly to the left, causing her arm and hip to be pressed right up against a very hard, very muscular body.

  Where she was soft, he was firm. Warm cotton blankets were pulled up to her waist and the unmistakable scent of a red-hot man who smelled of a recent shower made her inhale deeply.

  Ethan’s scent, she’d recognize it anywhere. He didn’t need fancy cologne or aftershave to smell nice. Lever 2000 did the trick just fine.

  “Don’t move too suddenly,” Ethan warned from nearby, his voice deep with sleep. “Delilah’s camping out on my lap.”

  Over the last two days of sleeping off the migraine to beat all migraines, while occasionally being awakened by her caretaker to check on her injured head or make her nibble on some crackers or toast, Ethan had been a constant healing presence.

  Still scratching Samson, she turned her head gingerly at first, fearing the return of pain. Thankfully, she moved without discomfort. Her migraine was gone, the nausea that kept her in bed and unable to eat much had subsided.

  There was some mild pain on her bruised forehead, but it was bearable. She was alive and breathing and hungry.

  And then there was Ethan, lying there half-asleep, his sleepy Maddox gray eyes on her. Delilah was curled up right on Ethan’s lap, her big paws dangerously close to his sensitive anatomy.

  “What’s the matter, big guy, afraid of a sweet little kitty?” Morgan asked quietly.

  Ethan shifted ever so slightly. “These are the biggest kittens I’ve ever seen. Do you know what this vixen’s capable of? One false move or loud noise, my balls are getting shredded. Look at her paws!”

  “She must like your warmth. Kitties appreciate a comfy lap. I’d imagine yours was better than mine.”

  “Samson has found a nice spot to sleep on while his mommy’s in Maui. He’s a mama’s boy.”

  “He’s a love.” The tabby’s purrs continued. Delilah opened her eyes. “Want me to take her off your lap?”

  “Let’s wait and see if she decides to leave on her own.”

  “I think you’ll be fine. As I hear it, it’s when you’re cooking that you need to watch out for her.”

  “Alex probably still has the scars to prove it.”

  “Only one who knows for sure is Ryan.” The few times she’d touched something belonging to Alex, she knew he bore scars that had nothing to do with kitten claws. She respected Alex Grant’s right to privacy and kept it to herself.

  “What time is it?” she asked.

  A quick glance around the guest room showed that blackout shades were down, curtains were closed and the low-level lighting came from a few plugin nightlights.

  “It’s about dinner time. Are you hungry? You look a thousand times better, honey. Your color’s returned. You’re smiling. The pain’s gone, isn’t it?”

  Nodding, she used one hand to test the bandage on her forehead. It was almost hard to believe it’d been two nights since she’d gotten attacked in the ladies room of Druid Creek Castle.

  She’d been pretty sure it’d been a man. Her money was Spencer Bailey, but she’d been told Bailey had been giving a presentation. It was possible Alisa came back in. She’d been very angry with Morgan.

  During one of her more lucid moments in the last few days, Ethan gently explained that the Danvers police were conducting a fair investigation. He was monitoring the situation and couldn’t accuse anyone of anything because Morgan didn’t really know who’d struck her.

  “I’m feeling much better. A couple of stitches won’t keep me down for long. Thankfully, Ryan didn’t have to shave much of my hair.”

  “Just a little bit, but you look fine, Morgan.”

  “Liar, the bruising wouldn’t subside that quickly.”

  “Okay, you’re beautiful, bruises and stitches won’t ever change that.” Tentatively, he started petting Delilah’s orange tabby head. “You, vixen, are trouble with a capital T. Since I want my testicles to remain undamaged, I’m going to set you on the bed. No claws, no one gets hurt, deal?”

  “Show no fear, Detective,” Morgan warned, laughing softly as he succeeded in removing Delilah from his lap. “Men really are protective of those things.”

  “My balls are not just things! They’re sensitive, and while I’d appreciate some sucking and licking action, being sliced and diced is not my idea of erotic pleasure. Besides, I need to keep them in fine working order for you.”

  “I’d think that would require more than testicles.”

  “Someday, I’m hoping you’ll want kids with me. My cock’s wide awake and undamaged. You won’t be disappointed when we get together. For now, how about I make us something to eat?”

  Surprised that he’d mentioned children, Morgan was taken aback by the fact that she wasn’t panicked. She’d always liked kids. She just thought it was a bit soon for her and Ethan to be talking about a family.

  “What do you think, Morgan?”

  “About children? It’s way too soon for a woman who’s been celibate for longer than I care to admit to think about kids.”

  “You’re not going to be celibate much longer. I’m talking about dinner,” Ethan answered. “I’m a decent cook. Not as good as Alex, but I sure can fix you up something that sticks to your ribs.”

  Her tummy, still occupied by Samson, grumbled. “Yeah, I could eat. But don’t go through so much trouble. Vegetable soup would be great. I should be getting back to my apartment anyway.”

  “Why? Phalen and Cassie learned what happened and he commanded me to take care of you here. Think I’m going to piss off my big brother?”

  “Well, there are my plants to consider. I’ve no clothes but the sweats I’m wearing and you have a job to get to. I’m hoping you’ve gotten something on Spencer Bailey by now.”

  Ethan frowned and sat up to take hold of Samson and carefully place him beside his sister. The kitties didn’t look so happy about being displaced from their chosen laps, but they didn’t jump off the bed.

  “Now I don’t want you to get upset,” Ethan warned.

  “Uh-oh, that means you’ve either gotten nothing or you’ve changed your mind about believing what I saw, what I know.”

  “You need to have a little faith in me. I admit that I don’t understand all this ghost stuff and your abilities scare the fuck out of me. Not because I can’t handle it, but because you get sick. I hate that. I won’t ever lie to you about it.”

  “Then what do you mean?”

  “I’m a cop, Morgan. I need to look at this whole situation with that perspective. When you’re ready, I’d like to go through everything that happened to you in the ladies room, start to finish.”

  Morgan stared at him. He was so handsome, so patient and open and kind. Even though he admitted his fears, he wasn’t the type of man to let what scared him stop him from finding the truth. He was not a coward.

  “Okay, I can do that. Did anyone find my digital voice recorder? Remy knew I had it.”

  “There was nothing in that restroom except your cellphone. Crime scene analysts were able to match your blood to that found on the sink. No prints but yours on the cellphone. It’s dried out and been returned.”

  “I didn’t hit my head on the marble sink. I’m pretty sure someone hit me.”

  “Ryan believes you were struck by something. Judging from the size of the bruise on your head, he thinks it was a flashlight. You passed out due to the migraine and shock more than from what hit you.”

  “I remember a bright light shining in my e
yes. It was one of those LED types, with a very bright bluish light. Then there was a hand. I thought it was a big hand, a man’s hand. But my head was already pounding after that EVP session and I was so very weak.”

  “Remy offered to teach me all about electronic voice phenomena. I want to learn about it from you.”

  “Remy’s not a bad guy, you know.”

  “I know. We’ve been talking. I’m no longer convinced he’s trying to get into your pants.”

  “I tend to wear skirts more than pants.”

  “You know what I meant. Remy regards you as a friend. He was really worried about you and offered his help in any way he can. He also told me about the job offer.”

  That made Morgan smile. “I’m going to be a consultant for his show.”

  “You sure you want to do that? Sometimes your visions cause these severe headaches. It worries me.”

  “Believe me, I don’t like headaches. But I’m willing to handle them if I can help Remy’s team or give spirits such as Jennifer Bailey a sense of peace so that they may cross over, if that’s what she wants.”

  “You’re really convinced Bailey had something to do with his stepdaughter’s death? Spencer Bailey is an extremely powerful man and there was nothing in our investigation that indicated he could have hurt her. His alibi was solid.”

  “Yes, I believe he did it. She’s been trying to communicate with her mother all along. I’d not realized the Baileys had attended Phalen and Cassie’s wedding. They weren’t on my radar. Jenna must have attached herself to her mom and then your tux.”

  “Why a tuxedo?”

  “Because it was either her stepfather’s or her killer wore an identical tuxedo when she died. She then recognized you as the detective who helped her from the start and still wants your help.”

  “After what you said at the reception, I started looking into the menswear shop we rented the tuxes from. The owner’s records are a bit archaic, but he’s going through his files to see who owned mine previously.”

  “If I’m right, the wrong man’s behind bars serving time for her murder, Ethan. She didn’t have justice. That would be enough to trap her soul here. I also believe she remains to keep an eye on her mother.”