Morgan finally looked at him. “I’m ashamed,” she admitted, tears finally spilling down her cheeks.
Ethan’s partner was in the driver’s seat and they were on their way. He ignored everything but Morgan. Cupping her cheek to wipe away her tears, he leaned in very close.
“Why should you be ashamed?”
“Because…because I wasn’t there when Grandma needed me.”
“Honey, she can’t be hurt.” Morgan’s face froze, revealing that Ethan had said the wrong thing. He hadn’t meant to. Now what was he to do?
“You think because she’s a ghost that she can’t feel pain or be afraid? Enchanted Treasures was her home. I assure you, she is hurting from the loss. And if there’s a chance Remy’s an arsonist, I’ve failed to realize what kind of man he is and let it happen.”
Ethan wrapped her up as close to him as the seatbelt allowed. “We don’t know it was Remy.”
“Aren’t you thinking it anyway?”
“I admit I’m worried. Call him now, Morgan. There’s a whole lot of shit coming down the pike regarding Jenna Bailey’s case. I’m going to do a background search this afternoon to see if Remy could have had any connection with the Bailey family.”
Morgan sat up a little. Ethan handed over her cellphone. She punched in a few numbers, letting it ring. “Don’t forget he was supposed to be going to Nevada with Eve.”
Eve Stratham, Bartholomew Stratham’s heiress. Ethan didn’t know Eve well at all. He’d only met her because she’d been invited to Cassie and Phalen’s wedding at the last minute. She had been reserved, possibly because New England gossip painted her as the spoiled daughter of a billionaire.
After a few minutes and a couple of redials, Morgan tossed her phone in frustration. “I can’t get ahold of either Remy or Eve. It could be that their phones are in an area that doesn’t have cellphone service.”
“What kind of town doesn’t have cell towers?”
“One that thrives on secrecy,” Morgan answered.
“Keep trying to call. Eventually they’ll get to a hotel or motel with service.”
“Let’s hope so. I don’t want to be wrong about Remy. If he’s somehow involved in this, I’ll never forgive myself.”
Ethan put his arm around her. Morgan let him, but the seatbelt kept her rigid and he couldn’t jeopardize her safety by unbuckling it.
Grateful that Sam was driving and she’d turned up the volume on the police radio, giving their location to the operator since they were technically on the clock, Ethan placed a kiss on Morgan’s temple and nuzzled gently.
Fortunately, Morgan let him stay close. She was still tense. He didn’t blame her. He was feeling guilty himself. Taran had been trying to call and he’d not known it.
His solace at the moment was the knowledge that Taran hadn’t called while Ethan had Morgan tied up in the dungeon. He didn’t want her to equate their first night in there with negativity or tragedy.
Maybe if he’d not fallen asleep, he’d have known something was wrong. For the first time, he wished he had Morgan’s psychic abilities, even though he knew that right now she doubted hers.
He didn’t want her to doubt anything, not him, her gift or her connection to her grandmother. He hoped to God that Remy wasn’t responsible for hurting Morgan. One thing he’d do when he got the chance was run a background check on Remy and see if there was a history of setting fires.
Ethan would find out the truth and soon. He had to. Morgan could be in danger. He also felt certain that the recent fires were connected to the Jenna Bailey case.
If there was a chance that someone other than Terrence Mills set the fire at the warehouse, Ethan and Samantha had to figure out who it was before someone else got hurt.
And pray that whatever they found or learned didn’t overturn Mills’ conviction.
Morgan thought her throat had turned into concrete. It was so sore and raw from crying. She’d tried to fortify herself with coffee, except any time she’d attempted to sip from her cup, the scent made her a little queasy.
The only thing that kept her grounded at the moment was Ethan. Mad as she was, she knew in her heart that he wasn’t responsible for the fire or for the fact that Remy had become a person of interest in the incident that happened to her at the castle.
Samantha navigated Boston traffic with ease, getting them to the highway that led to Salem. Twenty minutes later they were taking the exit into town. A few tricky turns later, they reached the narrow drive leading to the quartet of businesses on the same square shared by Enchanted Treasures.
The acrid smell of smoke permeated everything. The black, charred remains of what had been an historical landmark still smoldered. Two big fire trucks and police cars were parked on the lot, preventing curious bystanders from getting too close.
Samantha flashed her badge at an officer standing in the way of her cruiser. He stepped aside and waved her on.
Staff from Cassie’s diner were milling about. Firefighters were busy spraying water from hoses at anything that might spark back to life. Even though the morning sky promised rain, they weren’t taking any chances.
Morgan didn’t blame them. They couldn’t risk having stray embers cross the parking lot and endanger Book Haven Diner, Ink Master’s tattoo shop or the gym.
Through a blur of tears she saw the devastation that remained of her business, but she couldn’t move. She was aware Ethan had unbuckled their seatbelts. Saw that Samantha had climbed out and heard Taran Maddox speaking loudly.
She still couldn’t move. The pain of realizing her livelihood and Grandma Everhart’s home was gone tore her heart in two.
“Morgan, when you’re ready, we’ll go talk to the firefighters,” Ethan said gently, his arm coming around her shoulders.
Sadly, she was as aware of him as she always was, but his touch felt stiff and angry. She didn’t think he was mad at her. He was as upset about the fire as she was. Yet the stiffness somehow made her feel guiltier.
How could she not have known? Had she been so absorbed in sex with Ethan that Grandma couldn’t reach her? Her abilities had been strong while she’d been celibate. What if she had to give up sex to regain them?
“Morgan?” Ethan said, softer this time.
“I heard you,” she answered. “I’m not ready. Dammit, if this is because of us, because of the lifestyle we’re engaging in, Grandma has the right to be angry.”
“Don’t say that. The fire was not our fault. It’s not your fault.”
“Maybe we should go back to being celibate for a while. At least when I’m not having sex with you, I can stay in touch with my gifts. I can’t lose them, Ethan.” Even as she heard herself speak, Morgan saw how her words hurt him, but she couldn’t withdraw them.
Ethan wrapped his arms around her tighter. “You haven’t lost your gifts, Morgan Maddox!”
“You forget that I’m not a Maddox. I’m an Everhart.”
“You’re damn well going to be a Maddox. Don’t turn your pain into resentment for what we have together. There’s no shame in our love or sex. Maybe Grandma Everhart didn’t contact you last night because she knew you were safe with me.”
“Right now, all I feel is shame. A little over an hour ago, my only concern was my next orgasm. And here my life lies in ruins, my friends’ businesses could have burned down. I missed the signs. I should have seen it coming to prevent it.”
“What do you want me to do, Morgan? How can I make it better?” Ethan wouldn’t let her scramble out of his arms.
As nice as it felt to be held, she felt cornered, afraid and angry at the unfairness of it all. What she needed was air.
“Time away,” she answered.
“Time away from what?”
“You and me. Tonight I’m going home to my apartment, alone.”
“Like hell you are,” Ethan exclaimed, letting her go.
“Watch me, Ethan. You can’t tie me up and make me sleep with you.”
“Last night proved that I ca
n,” he stated harshly. “If you want to sleep in your apartment, fine, that’s what we’ll do.”
“Fuck off,” she cursed, suddenly needing to breathe without him so close. “You come near my apartment, I’ll bolt every door and have you arrested for trespassing. At the very least give me one night to figure out what the hell I want or if I really do want you at all.”
Morgan escaped the confines of the car, regretting her rash words the minute she slammed the car door. The air reeked of smoke. A thin layer of black soot covered everything. It was fortunate no other businesses had been set on fire.
Heartbroken beyond words, she approached what had once been the front entrance of her business. A fireman in full gear quickly stepped in front of her.
“I’m sorry, you can’t go near the building,” he warned gently. “There are still some hot embers.”
“This is…was…my place,” Morgan said.
Ethan strolled up next to her, standing beside her as he’d always done. Even though she’d literally told him to fuck off, he was there. He was angry at her, but spoke to the fireman quietly, getting the details of the fire and why they concluded arson.
She figured Ethan had the right to be mad. When she could think clearly, she’d apologize. In her heart, she knew it’d been wrong to blame the fire on their love.
She still didn’t understand why Grandma didn’t come to warn her. As she speculated, she tried to mentally reach out to her grandmother and was distracted by the scent of apples.
The scent grew stronger, zeroing in on the smoke and ashes all over the place and evaporating it. Caught in the moment, Morgan saw herself reach out.
Ethan caught her hand, causing the fresh orchard scent to waver. “No, let go,” she murmured to him. “Something’s here, someone is here. Jenna, I think it’s Jenna.”
“Who is Jenna?” the fireman asked. “There was no one in the building, ma’am, no lives lost. Unfortunately, there was a vehicle lost to the fire. No one was in it as far as we could tell.”
“She’s a young friend of ours. We’re relieved no one was hurt,” Ethan answered, drawing Morgan away.
Only after they were safely away from the smoking rubble did Ethan let go of her. “Do your thing, honey,” he granted, miraculously seeming to understand what she needed.
Something was off. As strong as the smell of apples was, it was different now. She didn’t feel the presence of another soul. What she needed to do was touch something. She couldn’t because it would burn her.
Oddly, her teary vision cleared. She hadn’t lost her gifts after all! Along the ground was a path made of apples, fresh autumn-ripe apples picked from an orchard. Following the red and green path, she walked toward Cassie’s diner.
She was very aware of the diner, of Phalen’s tattoo shop and the crowd around her. Ethan stayed close, although he didn’t risk touching her.
Morgan continued, winding her way to a small alley between hers and Cassie’s place, where they parked their cars in winter months when plow trucks needed access to the bigger lot.
There she saw the burned skeleton of what had once been a gorgeous red Corvette, Remy’s car. The one the fireman told them about.
Heat from the fire had melted the tires. A black trail led right from the car to Morgan’s business. How Cassie’s diner had been spared, she had no idea.
“Oh hell no,” Ethan exclaimed, rushing toward the car. “Stay back, Morgan.”
Obeying his authority, Morgan stilled but kept her eyes on the car. Here the smell of apples increased. The path she’d been following circled the car. Firefighters and crime scene techs had already discovered the car, as it was cordoned off by tape.
Aware that Ethan was walking around the Corvette, she noticed he didn’t touch it. He called out. His voice sounded loud. She barely heard it.
A parade of footsteps came up to the car. From the sound, Morgan knew it was firefighters, a host of them. A uniformed officer stepped forward, the back of his coat indicated that he was the Salem fire inspector.
The man managed to open what was left of the trunk with a crowbar, looked around and signaled for a crime scene tech to look inside.
Morgan shook her head. It couldn’t be possible. There couldn’t be evidence in that trunk that led authorities into thinking Remy did this.
It just couldn’t be right. “No!” she cried out, drawing the commotion to a halt.
“Morgan, honey, go back to Sam’s car. The crime scene unit needs to collect some evidence.”
“That’s Remy’s car.”
“I know,” Ethan said. “Can you try calling him again? If he doesn’t answer, keep trying. Please.”
“He didn’t do this, Ethan. He wouldn’t do this. Why would anyone set their own car on fire?”
“It could be that someone set him up.”
“Apples, there are apples all over the place, Ethan.”
“There aren’t any apples,” he said, looking around.
“I realize you wouldn’t see them.”
“What does that mean?”
“They’re a clue left for me. Whoever started that fire is connected to apples, maybe an orchard. Wait! Alisa Bailey’s family, the Andrews’ orchard, go there, you’ll find the arsonist.”
“Okay, Sam and I will add the orchard to our investigation. That’s all I can do right now, Morgan. Please go call Remy.”
“He didn’t do this,” she insisted.
“I know you believe that. I want to believe you. Right now, evidence keeps pointing me toward thinking Remy isn’t at all who we thought. In the trunk of his car is a whole bunch of melted ghost hunting equipment.”
“Remy’s my supplier,” Morgan said. “It’d be normal for him to have equipment in the trunk. He said last night that he’d have some delivered. He must have stowed it before he left.”
“There’s also four empty gas cans.”
Morgan thought it best not to argue again. She still hadn’t said she was sorry for her outburst in the car. She delayed a moment.
“Ethan, I’m sorry. I took my pain out on you. I shouldn’t have…” Her voice trailed off. He kept looking between her and the tech team surrounding Remy’s car.
“It’s okay. I can handle your pain,” he said, his voice quiet and measured because the inspector called him back to the car. “We’ll talk later. Go now.”
Frankly, she could use a hug. But then again, she’d put up the same don’t-touch-me wall she’d used when she misunderstood why he questioned her about Enid’s whereabouts months ago. He’d taken that to heart and kept his distance.
Now he’d only touched her when necessary for her safety. She’d really fucked things up and wasn’t sure what to do to make up for it.
Ethan walked back to the men in charge, becoming the detective she knew and loved. Inclining her head, Morgan returned to the parking lot.
Taran caught up with her then. “How are you doing, little sister?” he asked.
“Not so good, big brother. All I want to do is cry and I’ve managed to piss off Ethan in the process.”
“Why would you think he’s mad at you? You do know that he’s had Sam working behind the scenes to figure out what happened to Jenna Bailey, while his focus these past few weeks has been on keeping you safe, right?”
“He’s been amazingly supportive and healing. I still hurt his feelings.”
“Right now, Ethan’s pissed. Not at you or because you snipped at him, but at whoever did this to your place. Sometimes when we’re upset or hurting, we lash out at the one person we know can take it. Ethan can take anything. What did you say that you think pissed him off so much?”
“That I was sleeping at my place tonight, alone. Basically warning that if he came near me, I’d call the cops,” she said honestly.
“Ouch.” Gently, Taran put his arm around her and drew her up close. “He probably did something to deserve a stint on the sofa anyway.”
Morgan drew back and slugged Taran in the forearm. “That’s the man
I love, Taran. He didn’t do anything wrong. I was the idiot.”
“Maddox women do not put themselves down. Get that through your head. Once we choose a woman, we stay through thick or thin. But we’ll also give them the right to blow off steam when necessary.”
“I still shouldn’t have hurt Ethan’s feelings.”
“Then tell him that. He’ll forgive you. Hell, this is a bump in the road.”
“Will you forgive Samantha this easily when she pisses you off?”
“She pisses me off daily, baby sis. Am I letting that stop me? No. You think Phalen and Cassie haven’t had fights or trouble since they got together?”
“They’re rock solid.”
“That doesn’t mean they don’t disagree. Whoa, talk about some doozies. In their case, love enables them to forgive each other. If I get that chance with Sam, you can bet I’m taking it.”
“Maybe so, but I’ve the feeling I’m going home alone tonight.”
Taran drew her close again and hugged her. “If that happens, it’s because he’s working on this case with Sam. And you won’t be alone, I’ll be with you or Alex and Ryan will.”
“Ryan and Alex are here?”
“Alex is. Ryan left a little bit ago and is due to come back after some appointments he had scheduled. Alex is in the diner. How about we go see if we can arrange for the firemen to come in and eat.”
“Cassie would offer that,” Morgan said.
“She would.” Taran led Morgan away. She stopped only when they approached Samantha’s car and opened the back door to get her phone.
For once, she wished her phone wasn’t so basic. But a smartphone wasn’t going to change the outcome of the fire. And even though she’d seen the apples, she began to wonder if perhaps Remy Sinclair had something to do with the fires.
Wait, no, that couldn’t be. He’d called early last night saying he and Eve were going to Nevada. The fire didn’t start until early this morning.
So many judged Eve as a spoiled heiress with absolutely no value other than she looked good in the society section of newspapers. She was intelligent and genuinely loved history. She wanted to be acknowledged for her contributions to the college she worked for and her research capabilities.
Cuff Master Page 30