Morgan reached out for the one person she knew could get through to Ethan over and above smartphones and texts.
His mother Abigael.
* * * * *
“This is creepy, Sam,” Ethan said, not liking that they’d pulled up to an abandoned parking lot. The lights inside a barn were off and the vegetable stands were empty.
There were signs all over the place that boasted mile-high apple pies, cider, squash, pumpkins, gourds and all types of fall produce, homemade cakes and haunted hay rides.
The hay ride entrance was a little farther up the road. It’d been chained closed. Woods and clever fencing protected the whole orchard from being seen from the major highway less than a mile away.
It was dark and chilly outside. It’d been raining on and off most of the day, but had stopped this evening. Maybe the hay ride closed down due to poor weather?
“Yeah, it is,” Sam agreed. “Morrison instructed us to wait for backup.”
Ethan felt for his bulletproof vest just to be sure all was as it should be. Sam had hers on and they were still in the cruiser. But he wasn’t feeling good about this.
“According to Morgan’s voicemail and texts, Jenna appeared to her and told her that her Aunt Maura wrongly believes Morgan is she Erica White. Apparently, Maura killed her, but is confused and thinks she failed to kill the right person. How’s that factor into our investigation?”
“Let me check something,” Sam said, scrolling through her phone to do a quick web search. “Ha, got it, facial blindness.”
“Try that one again. Maura’s blind? Fingerprint analysis came back on the flashlight found at Druid Creek Castle. It matches her. She was also the anonymous witness who’d told Danvers police that Remy Sinclair had been in the back parking lot. How could she do that if she can’t see?”
“She can see just fine. There could be something in her brain that keeps her from recognizing facial features because to her they’re distorted. Someone must have told her that Sinclair went by her. He’s a celeb in New England.”
“Sounds similar to dyslexia, instead of letters and words being jumbled, faces are,” Ethan commented.
“That sounds about right. According to what I can tell, many who suffer from it don’t report the abnormalities. They learn to adapt and come to know people around them based on voices, hair color and style, that sort of thing.”
“Does that mean she wouldn’t recognize her own sister or maybe her niece if something about them changed? Jenna went Goth after she became involved in that online game.”
“I think so. We’d have to talk to a doctor who specializes in the disorder to be sure. Perhaps this is why Maura’s been seeing a psychiatrist for most of her life. Can you imagine how scary it is for a kid not to be able to recognize her own mother or father or loved ones?”
“And someone as slick as Spencer Bailey could use it against her by fooling her into believing anything he tells her. She trusts him, perhaps loves him and is willing to do anything to keep him.”
“Join that with the information Captain Morrison got from a federal judge in New York and we know Bailey’s family has been covering up the fact that Spencer’s predilection for young girls followed him through high school and college. Amazing how much shit a billionaire can hide.”
“What are the chances he’s the buyer who tipped off both the cops and Mills, creating the right chaos needed to cover up the murder of his stepdaughter?”
“That’s sick! When Jenna went missing, he claimed to be at a Harvard reunion with his wife. Alisa verified his alibi, insisting that he didn’t leave her during the five-day search. The only way he could have bought Jenna by mistake is if he’d had someone else do the bidding and retrieve her…someone who wouldn’t recognize Jenna’s face.”
“Bailey is a self-absorbed pedophilic idiot,” Ethan accused. “It wouldn’t surprise me if he urged a doctor to write a prescription for his wife for something that would put her out long enough to leave without her knowledge.”
“Can’t agree more, but that’s speculation, Ethan. We have to prove it with evidence and bring in Maura. If she turns against her lover, we got him. Otherwise the fuck-head will lawyer-up so fast our heads will spin.”
“Fuck-head? Is that the best you can come up with, partner?”
“For now, Ethan. When we search this place, I’m afraid of what we’ll find. As Taran would say, there’s a whole lot of bad mojo about this orchard.”
“Yeah, I feel it. I radioed in for a bus and crime scene unit. Morgan’s text pointed us to the oldest tree in the orchard. How the hell will we know the oldest tree?”
“Start digging, one tree at a time,” Sam answered.
Ethan glanced around. They’d cut the lights on the cruiser when they’d parked to keep from startling anyone who might be around. Last ETA for backup was about five minutes. That was five minutes ago.
Right on cue, headlights broke the darkness. The Concord Police cruiser pulled in, dimmed the lights to the orange fog lamps and came up behind them.
With backup arriving, Sam and Ethan got out of their vehicle and headed over to the uniformed officer just as the cellphone in his pocket signaled an incoming text. He silenced the thing. He’d check it in a few.
“Evening, Officer,” Ethan said pleasantly, showing his badge and Sam did too. “Thanks for getting here fast.”
“On patrol, got the call and came on over. Name’s Thomas. More help’s on the way from Lexington, the county sheriff and some state boys too.”
“You have any clue why this farm’s shut down tonight?” Sam asked.
“There’d been a call to the town hall earlier in the afternoon to put out an announcement on the local radio stations that the farm would be closed and hay rides cancelled for the day due to rain.”
“I believe the manager, Maura Andrews, lives here,” Ethan continued, looking around. “We have a warrant to bring her in for questioning regarding involvement in the murder and cover-up of the murder of Jennifer Bailey. She’s also wanted for suspected arson in Danvers and Salem.”
The patrol car’s fog lights remained on, enabling Ethan to see the gravel-covered parking area and barn. Beyond the barn there seemed to be acres of apple trees, all old and gnarly.
“Damn,” Officer Thomas cursed. “She’s always been off, if that makes any sense? When she was a kid, she used to set fires if she was away from the orchard too long. Guess that’s why her folks made sure she lived here.”
“Where’s Maura’s house?” Sam asked.
“She lives in a trailer that her sister’s husband bought for her. Contractors came in and made it real nice, wouldn’t even know it’s a double wide. It’s down the lane there about half a mile,” the officer answered, pointing to where the parking lot opened up to a long winding road.
The rapid crack of gunfire split the air, echoing ominously through the darkness. Ethan counted six cracks, six shots. Fuck!
“Shots fired,” Ethan shouted into the two-way radio pinned to his shoulder. “We need more backup, pronto!” Dispatch returned notice of Ethan’s call in a series of codes, urging all available units to the orchard ASAP.
“Let’s move,” Sam urged. “Officer, we’ll need you to lead the way.”
Ethan and Sam ran to their cruiser, climbed in and hauled ass down the lane. When a quaint trailer came into view, he slapped a switch on the cruiser’s dash and sounded the blue lights and siren. Thomas’ cruiser came to rest first.
As Sam slowed due to the necessity of navigating the narrow road, Ethan narrowed his eyes on the trailer. Lights were on inside. The place looked domestic and cozy with its farmer’s porch, garden and potted plants. That’s what gave him the chills.
The mom-mobile smashed into the back end of a black Mercedes sedan scared the fuck out of him.
“Guess we know why Alisa didn’t make it to the station downtown,” Sam said.
Ethan radioed to Thomas, asking the officer to run a plate check on the minivan and the Me
rcedes. More shots rang out before the officer replied.
“This is going to be a bloodbath,” Ethan declared. “We’ve got to go now, Sam.”
Sam slammed their cruiser into park, keeping the lights dimmed low to avoid blinding anyone who might come out of that trailer. Ethan was the first out of the car, drawing his gun and slowly moving a few steps forward, his eyes trained on the front door.
From where he was, he couldn’t tell if there was a back door.
“Maura Andrews, Alisa Bailey? This is Detective Maddox speaking. My partner, Officer Thomas and I heard gunshots. An ambulance and more police officers are on the way. If able, come out now with your hands up.”
An eerily calm female shouted back. It wasn’t Maura. He recognized Alisa’s voice because it haunted his dreams after Jenna Bailey’s case ended so badly.
“Careful,” Sam warned. “Don’t move too fast. Someone’s coming out.”
The front door opened and a porch light came on with the movement. Alisa stepped out, covered in blood splatter. A gun was in her hands.
Jesus, that semi-auto was a serious piece of hardware for a one-time soccer mom.
“I did it,” Alisa stated in an eerily calm voice. “I shot them both. No one can save them.”
“Alisa, put your weapon down, please,” Ethan said. “Let Detective Riley and I help you.”
Alisa shook her head. She was so calm, deadly calm. “Let it be known that I got them back for what they did to my Jennifer. They bought her. Did you know that? They fucking bought my daughter from that bastard Mills and killed her when Spencer realized who Maura brought to him.”
“We believe you, Mrs. Bailey,” Samantha said quietly. “We can’t get justice for your daughter if you don’t let us help you. Come tell us what you know.”
“It’s too late. Spencer was going to lie again, same as he’d been lying to me, to my sister, to everyone. He’s vile and Maura loved him enough to do the unthinkable. Now it was my turn to do the unthinkable…”
Alisa turned her gun inward, aiming for her chin, a telltale click warning it was about to be fired.
“No, Mrs. Bailey, don’t do this,” Sam cautioned. “Taking your own life is not the answer!”
Ethan released the safety on his gun at the same time as Alisa redirected her aim at Sam. “Fine,” Alisa said with such finality, it crushed him. “One of you can send me to hell.”
With a two-handed grip, Alisa pulled the trigger, the kickback sending her off balance until she caught herself and got off two more rounds. In Ethan’s experience, once someone unfamiliar with handling guns started shooting, he panicked and kept firing until no more bullets remained in the clip.
On instinct, he jumped in front of his partner, taking a direct hit to the chest. Despite the Kevlar vest, the pain was nothing compared to the bullet that caught him in the thigh before he fell to the ground and rolled to a halt.
Aware that he was shot and suddenly bleeding, Ethan couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. One more gunshot split the air.
“Officer down, shooter wounded,” Sam shouted. “Need a bus, now. Right goddamn now!”
“Alisa?” Ethan whispered, pain becoming an excruciating burn.
“She’s down. Fucking lot of blood, there’s too much blood.” Sam grabbed his collar above the vest, turning him over with all her might.
Ethan couldn’t help. Blackness swarmed. In that instant, he was sure he was looking death square in the eye.
If he was going to die, he was going out thinking of the woman he loved. “Tell Morgan I love her. Always will.”
“No, no, no, too pale, you’re too fucking pale! You stay with me, partner. You fucking stay! Tell her that yourself!” Sam ran off, he had no idea where she’d gone or why.
Ethan closed his eyes, giving into blackness. Blackness gave way to warmth and light. He smelled…home, Ma’s home cooking, Dad’s backyard barbeques and tattoo ink. Here pain and fear faded.
Here he was safe, but Ethan was vaguely aware that Sam came back. He heard fabric tearing. Someone cried out.
He did, he was bellowing at Sam to stop. The pain she put him through threatened to destroy the peace he’d found by staying where it was warm.
“Stay with me, Ethan,” Sam commanded over and over, her voice a litany he tried to cling to. But that warmth, it was so nice and tempting.
Sam’s demands faded. Another voice grew stronger, one that was so familiar it made him long for the touch of his mother’s hand on his forehead when he was sick.
His mother was with him. He knew it. She was real to him. He didn’t have to see her to believe she was with him.
Listen to Samantha, Teddy Bear. You are a Maddox, a fighter. We do not give up on life so easily.
Ma?
Yes, my son. Morgan sent me to you. Stay alive for your wife, the mother of your child.
We’re not married yet.
Your father says if you don’t marry her as soon as you’re well, he’ll have Phalen kick your ass six ways to Sunday.
Dad? He’s here?
We’re always with you and your brothers. Now do right by Morgan and be the father that you’re meant to be.
She’s pregnant?
Didn’t I make myself clear? I do hate repeating myself with you boys. The baby’s very tiny and not ready to declare himself to the world. But his heart beats strong and steady already. Give him time to grow and he’ll be every bit the Maddox male.
Morgan and I are having a son. How’s that even possible?
Do I really need to explain the birds and the bees? You stay alive. You hear me? Your family is counting on you.
Don’t worry, I’ll stay. Morgan’s the love of my life, being her husband and the father of our children is everything I’ve ever wanted.
We love her too. Let her know her grandma is with her son, Morgan’s father, right now. They are at peace. Oh be patient. Let her tell you about the baby when she knows for sure. It’s her right.
I will. Are you leaving now?
Soon, I must.
Have I made you and Dad proud? Have I been a good son?
Every day, Teddy Bear, and every single day we love you, Taran and Phalen more. You three are the best of us.
I miss you. We all miss you two. Will you or Dad come see me again?
Your father and I are only a prayer away. I’m going to go and check in on Cassandra for a while. She’s further along than your Morgan. You’ll have plenty of time to practice changing diapers. You’re going to need it, Uncle Ethan.
A bright light flashed in Ethan’s eyes, yanking him back to reality. Pain of a gunshot still ricocheted through his entire leg. He was still lying on the ground with a team of paramedics working him over, asking him questions.
One declared that he was back. Back? Where the hell did the medic think he went?
He tried to answer. But first he had to know where his partner was. “Detective Riley, where is she?”
“She’s fine, Detective Maddox. She saved your life.”
Ethan tried to swivel his head, but someone had strapped him onto something that made him stay still. “Can’t let you move until medevac flies you to Mass General.”
Medevac was not good. But then, if he could converse with the guy currently keeping him in the here and now, he’d do it.
He was going to fight. He had reason and purpose. A soon-to-be wife and a son on the way, a son! Proud as a peacock, Ethan smiled slightly even as he heard the roar of a chopper’s blades in the distance.
“Chopper’s landing,” Sam shouted. “Medic, get my partner in your bus and to that chopper STAT.”
“Sam? Come here a sec,” Ethan insisted, unsure if she heard him over the clicks and clacks of the stretcher the paramedics lifted him onto.
Sam jogged up to him. She was covered in blood. “What the hell, Sam? Were you shot? Medic, get her to the hospital first.”
“This is your blood, partner. You damn near bled out on me. Bullet nicked your femoral artery. I kep
t pressure on your leg until the medics got here and took over.”
“How bad is it inside that trailer?”
“Can we cover this when you’re out of surgery? Don’t be an idiot on top of being my hero, okay?”
“No, tell me,” Ethan demanded with a little more strength. Someone had attached fluids to his veins, giving him the lifesaving energy he needed to keep fighting.
“Maura and Spencer are dead and he’s missing his dick. Alisa left a bloody confession on the kitchen counter and promised she’d be with her daughter soon. She chose suicide by cop, me.”
“Oh fuck, Sam, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t curse now, Ethan. You’re out of here.”
“You’ll call Morgan for me?”
“Already done, your whole family is on the way to Mass General.”
“Thanks for saving my ass, partner,” Ethan said.
“You saved mine first. You took a bullet for me. Don’t think I’ll ever forget it.”
Sam turned away. Ethan swore he saw tears in her eyes. Sam didn’t let anyone see her cry, even him.
Ethan was rushed into the back of an ambulance, a team of emergency techs swarming all around him as they whisked him away from the scene.
He thought it best to rest. There were going to be a lot of sleepless nights and sick kids and making love with his wife in the future.
Thanking his mom for bringing him back to Morgan and his child, Ethan slept.
Chapter Fourteen
Morgan couldn’t tell her right from her left. Massachusetts General Hospital’s emergency center was a weird kind of organized chaos.
She hated hospitals because she could hear the fears and the questions and thoughts of those who’d come through the ER. To avoid being overwhelmed, she didn’t touch anything, forcing herself to compartmentalize the voices coming at her from so many directions.
Nurses, techs and doctors were on constant alert. They knew a helicopter was coming in and when it did, Ethan would be on it. The news Samantha had relayed to Taran less than an hour ago was that Ethan had been shot in the leg, nearly bleeding out because the bullet struck his femoral artery.
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