by Cameron Dane
With her whole body screaming a denial, Maddie pulled her hand out of his. “Maybe we’re fighting against a truth that we’re not compatible, and it’s time to finally let us go.”
“I don’t believe that for a second,” Wyn replied, lightning fast. “There’s nobody more right for me than you.” Threading his fingers in her hair, he gently tugged her to him, exposing the light glints in his dark eyes, and brushed the gentlest of kisses against her lips. “Good night, honey. Sleep tight.” He backed up to the door, out into the hallway, adding, “And if you see the ghost again, this time yell for me before you go after her. See you in the morning for breakfast.”
In a stupor, fingers on her lips, Maddie kicked into gear and ran to the door. “I have meetings!” Too late, Wyn had already entered his room and shut the door. Euphoria draining out of her, Maddie shut the door and slid down the wood to the floor, finishing to herself, “I’ll probably be gone before you get up.”
Exhaustion suddenly crashed into Maddie. She folded her arms against her bent knees and dropped her head to rest on them. What in the heck just happened? She was surprised her neck didn’t need to be in a brace as a result of whiplash. In such a short amount of time she’d gone from the highest of highs that had come from connecting to Wyn so deeply sexually, to then dropping into the deepest pit in the ocean as the aftermath had dredged up the most awful day of her life. His betrayal. Then she’d swerved to the ghost and the temporary joy meeting it had brought, to then another fight with Wyn, and his admission that he’d been celibate since that terrible night—of which made her heart flutter whether she wanted to admit it or not. Then, finally, upon thinking about how much power she’d given him, she’d dropped straight back into desolation. But she also couldn’t ignore that they’d actually talked about the ghost and the shed as equals just now, hashed out a problem together without fighting. She could not deny a big part of her like embracing that invisible tug toward being partners with him again.
Her feelings about Wyn and this whole situation, and what it should mean to her life, had bounced back and forth more than a tennis ball at Wimbledon. This flighty, fractured girl Maddie had become was exactly the kind of female character she couldn’t stand in television shows and films and books. The kind of girl who loved a guy one minute and hated him the next, the girl who couldn’t decide who was really good for her and who was bad news for her heart. The kind of girl who wouldn’t just make up her damned mind and then act on it. I hate that girl. Maddie growled into the sleeve of her robe. Then stop being her. The voice in her head, giving advice she knew she needed to take, swamped her to her bones.
Maddie reached up to grab the door handle to help pull herself to her feet, but just as her fingers closed around the brass, a soft tap tap sounded from the other side of the door.
A grin automatically splitting her face, Maddie jumped up, saying, “What is it now, Ashworth?” and swung open the door.
Nobody stood on the other side.
What?
Maddie stepped out, looked both ways, but Wyn was not there. His door was still closed; she could hear soft strains from the small television she’d bought for guests to use coming from his room. The bathroom door was still open, and the water was not running in the toilet, as it had a tendency to do for a good thirty seconds after it was flushed, so Wyn had not just recently used the bathroom and then knocked to prank her before running back to his room.
Wait. Maddie spun again, this time going full circle. Two taps. Two knocks. Could it be Mrs. Corsini? In the shed Maddie had asked the spirit to knock to answer her question—one knock for yes, two for no—but Wyn had interrupted before Maddie had gotten a response.
“Mrs. Corsini?” With the most careful of steps, Maddie reentered her room. “Is that you?”
An even softer tap, just one, sounded from near the door.
It’s her. Although she could not see an apparition, Maddie’s heart raced, and she spun to face the door. “Were the two taps your answer to my question from before?”
Even fainter, almost non-existent, one more scrape against the wood.
Yes. So that meant her previous answer to the original question had been no. “Do you want me to bring back your husband?” So she didn’t want her husband to come back to Redemption. That wasn’t why she was here. Thank goodness. Maddie really would not have known how to deal with an angry ghost, and that’s what she likely would have had on her hands with a refusal to drag her old boss back to town.
“What do you want?”
Just the strains of Wyn’s TV floated through the air.
Shoot. Of course. Maddie rephrased to a yes or no question. “If I ask specific questions, can you tell me your purpose for being here?”
Nothing.
“Are you still here?”
No response.
She’s gone.
The crazy pumping draining from her chest, Maddie threw herself in bed, her mind a jumble once again. Whatever was going on with Mrs. Corsini, Maddie would have to wait until the spirit showed herself again or started tapping on the walls. Maybe she could only generate enough energy to manifest with sight or sound for short periods; maybe communicating as a ghost on cue wasn’t a matter of choice. Maybe she couldn’t always reply when she wanted to.
It’s as good an answer as any, and seems is the best I’m going to get tonight.
Maddie sighed. With a chat with a ghost indefinitely on hold, her thoughts instantly turned back to the roughly handsome giant of a man sleeping down the hall. Wyn. They couldn’t keep going on the way they had been the last few days. They would both end up popping a gasket or going outright mad. Maddie didn’t want that for either of them. And she never wanted to behave or become a person who jerked someone around, whether emotional or physical or mental. That wasn’t cool. Yet with the way she daily psyched herself up to get distance from him, only to then succumb to his charms when close to him, she was coming dangerously close to doing exactly that. She had to make a decision and then move forward decisively.
She had one night to sleep on it and figure out her next move.
Better get started right now.
Maddie closed her eyes and began counting sheep.
The fluffy creatures turned into Wyn leaping over fences, and Maddie drifted to sleep with a soft laugh and a smile on her face.
* * * *
Shadows from the TV playing across the white ceiling above, Wyn tucked his arm under his head and stretched out in bed. Fuck. He’d never felt so inadequate intellectually and emotionally while also so satisfied physically in his life. He’d ached for Maddie for years—he hadn’t lied about his four-year stint with celibacy—and finally sinking into her wet heat had spun him into the stratosphere. Never in his life had he felt so connected to someone while merged with their body; never had he come so fast and hard and then just known he would be able to keep going and come again. It’s Maddie. Wyn rubbed his bare ass against the bedding as his dick pulsed with blood, signaling it would happily get lost in Maddie again. Maddie is why it was different.
Wyn growled, silently telling his body to go back to sleep. The truth was, he might not be able to have Maddie again anytime soon. If ever. Fuck. He snarled again, the rage aimed squarely at himself. Tonight was the first time Maddie had spoken aloud of her hurt and the deep sense of betrayal she’d felt the night she’d caught him with another woman. Back then she’d run, gotten pissed, and then had treated him as if they’d never become friends or grown close during the previous three years. They’d effectively become combative strangers who unfortunately still had to cross paths frequently in each other’s worlds due to Ethan and Aidan’s relationship.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. That night four years ago, hell, that whole week had disasters in it, and once again Wyn had dived headfirst into the worst possible hellhole of his own making. If only his head hadn’t been screwed on so very wrongly after that run-in with his…No. No excuses.
Only moving forward mattered now. Wyn now kne
w Maddie hadn’t let go of them any more than he had. She’d never opened herself to loving or being with another man. And just as powerful as the sex they’d finally given into tonight, Maddie had finally begun directly unleashing her old anger and hurt and aiming it squarely at him. He could take it. He would take it. If they had any hope of moving forward as a couple she needed to unload what she’d corked up so tightly inside her, and he needed to take every bit of it and not shut her down by trying to make excuses or explain his terrible actions away.
He would have to tread carefully with Maddie, keep on her good side, and pray she could one day forgive him and let him back into her heart. He just had to make sure he didn’t stumble over himself and screw things up.
At the same time, he still had a job to do. She had someone regularly invading her home, and his only need right now was finding that person and eliminating the threat to her safety.
Fuck.
Not at all certain, without much of a plan, but nonetheless a kernel of new hope taking seed, Wyn closed his eyes and tried to get some sleep.
Chapter 9
“I did not break into the boss’s house,” Robbie, one of Maddie’s employees, insisted for the third time. “I never would. I love this job.” Visibly hot under his coverall collar, the sandy blond expelled a breath and ran his fingers through his hair. “I would never do something dumb enough to make me lose it.”
“Your girlfriend certainly doesn’t like you working here though,” Wyn pushed, watching Robbie closely for ticks or tells. “Maybe she came to visit you at work, saw you coming out of Miss Morgan’s place, and thought you were doing something with your boss, when really you were in that home uninvited.”
Exploding out of his seat, Robbie kicked the chair against the wall. “Felicity knows she was mistaken about everything now! There was never nothing going on with me and Maddie. Felicity is getting help, and the boss understands and says she’s already forgotten about what happened. If she still has an issue with me, I will talk it out with her and fix it, but if you say another word about my girlfriend—” crimson mottled the man’s face, his skin pulled taut, “—when you don’t know shit about her, you and I are gonna fucking come to blows.”
As steady as Robbie was volatile, Wyn leaned back in his chair and held the man’s stare without blinking. “You’ve gotten angry very quickly. Is that a problem for you?”
Robbie’s lips curled at the edge. “No, but if you keep this up, it’ll become a problem for you. I fucking volunteered to talk to you because I wanted to help out the boss. But we’re done now, asshole.” He kicked another chair for good measure. “I gotta get back to work.” With that, the guy stormed out of the break room and back into the main body of the garage.
After crossing a line through Robbie’s name on a pad of paper, Wyn checked his notes and questions, prepared to talk to the next person on his list. He’d already spoken to a guy named Bill; middle-aged man, married, lots of kids; Wyn had detected the man might have some money issues at home, but Bill had offered up his DNA without balking, so either he felt very comfortable in his innocence or hadn’t picked up on the possibility that Wyn had DNA to compare with his, and thus maybe he should be a bit more cautious. Either way, Wyn would know soon. Robbie had agreed to talk but not give his DNA. Right now Wyn couldn’t tell for sure if the refusal was layered in guilt or simple belligerence. The guy had a few run-ins with the law in his early years in another state; very minor stuff, but his interactions with cops back then could be triggering his reticence today. Wyn had one more person to speak with today, a gentleman named Ernie, and then would have to come back in the late afternoon or the weekend to talk with Maddie’s teen employee, Jayden.
Wyn got up and moved to the break room door, prepared to call for Ernie. Instead Garrick moved in next to Wyn, a probing scrutiny in his ocean eyes. “Do you really want to keep doing this?” His voice remained amiable, and he kept it nice and low. “Do you truly think questioning the employees here is your smartest move or the best use of your time? Particularly while Maddie is away?”
His jaw clenching, Wyn swallowed down the sharp retort. Friendship and respect for Garrick kept the rancor out of his tone. “This is not my only pool of suspects,” he conceded, albeit reluctantly, “but I have to look at the people who not only are the closest to Maddie as a friend and employer, but are also in regular close proximity to her home. Since I’m bunking at Maddie’s place for the time being, I thought it would be a good idea to take care of some business here at the garage before heading into town for work. It just makes good sense.” He laid as unflinching a stare on Garrick as he had on Robbie a moment ago. “Do you have a problem with that, friend?”
“Remember that I am your friend.” Holding Wyn’s stare, Garrick remained even tempered and kept their heads close together. “I trusted you once when my life was on the line, and I am forever in your debt. That’s why I’m trying to help you. This is not a good idea.” He let his focus travel around the garage, landing on each employee, all who were working hard, and his mouth pulled in a tight line. “Not like this.”
Wyn took the same visual tour around the big garage Garrick had and his gut clenched hard. Problem for him was, he didn’t know if the sick feeling was entirely guilt related or if his cop instincts were trying to tell him something wasn’t entirely kosher with Maddie’s garage and employees.
A bad taste sat in Wyn’s mouth, but a wash of cold forced him to say, “If someone here is betraying Maddie, and I didn’t look hard enough in an effort to spare her feelings or to keep in her good graces, I’d never forgive myself. I won’t fail her.” His heart started hammering, and he vowed, “Not again.”
Garrick swung around and narrowed in on Wyn. “Again?”
Rather than answering, Wyn eased Garrick aside. “Excuse me.” He strode across the garage and tapped an African American gentleman on the arm. “Ernie.” Offering a smile, he extended a hand toward the break room. “Mr. Charbeau. If you could join me for a few minutes?”
The weathered old man smiled back at Wyn. “Surely.” He took a kerchief out of his coverall pocket and wiped his hands and face. “I’m right behind you.”
Wyn led the way back to his makeshift interrogation room, righted the two chairs Robbie had kicked, and offered one to Ernie Charbeau.
With a murmured “thank you kindly,” Ernie sat down, making a few creaks and noises Wyn imagined he’d be making too if he were in his sixties and still working a forty hour week, fifty weeks a year.
Once Ernie was settled, Wyn asked, “Mr. Charbeau, may I first ask if you are comfortable giving me a DNA sample?”
“DNA?” The craggy man’s voice rose to a high scratch. “What is this about? I was under the impression Maddie had a simple break-in, when she wasn’t even home.”
“If you don’t want to give a sample, you don’t have to.” Wyn jotted down a note under Ernie’s name, letting the man observe, knowing suspects became paranoid if they believed they’d unintentionally given away valuable information. “It’s voluntary,” Wyn glanced up, keeping his tone amiable, “but it would help immensely.”
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t give,” Ernie replied, seemingly unfazed, “but I don’t want to be steamrolled or kept in the dark if I’m helping out.”
“Do you like your job?” Wyn changed tactics. “I guess you must, considering how long you’ve worked here.”
Ernie shrugged. “It’s honest work, and it pays the bills, and I like working at a place where I am respected.”
“Did Mr. Corsini really respect you, though?” Wyn sharpened his proverbial blade, at the ready to thrust. “After all, you gave him so many good years of your life as a loyal employee, and yet when he decided to move on he didn’t even make you the boss, let alone sell you a piece of the business. That must have stung.”
Ernie suddenly chuckled, and the glints of gold in his hazel eyes lit with humor. “Not a bit.”
“Really?” Inside, Wyn sat up like a dog on aler
t. On the outside, his expression remained static. “The oversight didn’t feel like a slap in the face? You, or even your family, didn’t feel slighted at all?”
As easy as a summer breeze, Ernie sat back in his chair and clasped his hands against his stomach. “What’s your name again, young man? Did you say it was Wyn?”
His focus narrowing, a little thrown by this man’s sudden ease, Wyn replied, “Yes. Lieutenant Wyn Ashworth.”
“All right.” The man softly smiled at Wyn again. “Lieutenant Ashworth, I am an old man and getting older every day. Do you really think I want the headaches and extra responsibility and worry that come with owning a business, and having to take care of books, and worry about taking care of employees, and garage and building maintenance, or do you think I might prefer to go home to my wife every night and have my weekends free for my family and watching sports?”
“A slight is a slight,” Wyn countered, “and resentment can build over time. Your old boss isn’t here to take the brunt of any sudden anger, but Maddie is, and she lives all alone, and she trusts all of you, and it would be so easy to take advantage of her. You must at least be a little pissed off that Maddie has gained so much simply by your old boss taking her under his wing.” Wyn didn’t believe for a second that Maddie hadn’t earned every damned bit of her ownership of this garage, but this older gentlemen, from a different era, might need to feel as if someone could empathize with any resentment he might have. “If I talked to your family, Mr. Charbeau, would they give me a little bit of a different story than the kumbaya one you’re trying to sell me now?”
Ernie merely shook his head and looked at Wyn as if he were a little boy. “Does Maddie know you’re here asking these kinds of questions right now?”
“Why?” Shifting forward, Wyn clasped his hands on the table and zeroed in on Ernie. “Are you worried?”
The man hooted. “Only for you.” He shook his finger at Wyn, but added, “But I’m going to humor you, so here it goes. I have not—”