by Cameron Dane
Staying close, Maddie moved to Wyn’s side. “There was a blanket on top of that pile Nico made.” She pointed into the shadowed front room. “I remember because it looked like it was a handmade baby blanket, and I unfolded it to look at the cross-stitch design. It’s not there anymore.”
“Fuck.” The heat of oncoming rage roiled inside Wyn. One glance at Maddie though, witnessing true fear in her eyes for the first time since this mess had begun, made him swallow hard and smash down those chaotic feelings. He knew if he let his anger loose he wouldn’t be able to control it and he needed to remain calm and collected, not only for himself, but to keep Maddie level too.
“I remember the blanket,” he told her, squeezing her hand. “It looked heirloom, and I was surprised Nico would have it on the pile of things to donate.”
Right then a deafening thunder rumbled through the house, boom-boom-boom, shaking walls and everything on them, like a cataclysmic storm had erupted and surrounded the house. Only the front door still stood open, and a clear night sky full of stars lit the sky for miles in every direction. No storm in sight.
A loud bang sounded from outside, as if it were coming from near the rear of the house, like a transformer popping, or a firework exploding in a silent night, and the walls of the house shook violently again.
Maddie squeaked and covered her head and ducked, probably fearing the ceiling might fall down around them. “What is she trying to tell us now?”
His adrenaline pumping overtime, blind to what the hell he was dealing with, Wyn shook his head. “My best guess? She’s not happy about what happened here tonight. You search for the blanket down here, and I’ll check upstairs, just to be sure it’s really gone.” He hated to separate from her, but if they were going to solve this mystery, they needed to trust and believe in each other’s ability to work solo. “Keep your eyes open for anything else out of place too.”
Taking a breath, Maddie nodded. “Keep your eyes down too, just in case there’s broken glass.” She shook out her limbs, straightened, and gave him a stalwart nod. “I’ll meet you back here in a few.”
In a systematic search he’d done every day since moving in with Maddie, Wyn checked every nook and cranny on the second level of the house. He even went up into the turret and checked the attic, in a quick but thorough grid-by-grid search. With every square foot, where he found nothing out of place, his frustration grew. He came back down the steps to where Maddie was waiting for him in the foyer.
“I can’t find it,” she told him, her pretty features more strained than he’d ever seen them.
“Me either. Son of a bitch.” A mile long string of additional foul curses sat poised on his tongue, but he smothered them, searching for a more productive route. “This is ballsy, Maddie. This person came into this house and stole something, certainly with the knowledge that you have a cop living here with you now too.”
Her face pinched and pale, Maddie finally closed the front door. She immediately went back to clasping and wringing her hands. “What do we do now?”
“We talk about cameras.” Wyn spoke a truth he knew she would not want to hear. “You have to let me set something up.”
Hanging back on her heels, Maddie wrung her hands together even harder. “Wyn…”
With a sigh, Wyn cupped his hand around her neck and tugged her in, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I know you don’t like it, honey. I don’t either, but it’s our best chance of catching this person in the act. Possibly our only chance.”
Maddie remained wound tight against him, her fingers digging craters into his waist. The distress in her body sank into Wyn, and his heart would not let him bring her one iota of pain more. “Will you at least sleep on it tonight?” He swayed her against him. “Let the idea germinate, and we’ll talk about it more tomorrow?”
Exhaling shakily, looking up at him, Maddie nodded. “I can do that.” She even offered him a wan smile.
“That’s good enough for me.” He twined his fingers in hers and led her to the stairs. “Let’s go to bed.”
Wyn did not tell Maddie that he was now one hundred percent certain the person breaking into her home worked at the garage. Nobody else knew Maddie’s schedule the way that small group of men did. Nobody else knew that Maddie wouldn’t be home tonight, and thus not available for any emergency towing calls from their valued clientele. Maddie had a viper in her midst; Wyn was sure of it.
He would let her at least attempt a decent night of sleep tonight; tomorrow morning would be soon enough to add to her burden.
Tonight, they discarded their clothes on the floor, crawled into bed together, and without hesitation moved straight into each other’s arms.
* * * *
The next day, a beautiful Saturday, Wyn hauled chairs off the back porch, clearing the area so he could pressure wash the treated wood. He’d already done the front porch, taken a breather to get a drink and a snack, and had called Maddie at the garage to see how she was holding up. How did he know she was still rattled from the events of last night? Because she hadn’t told him to go fuck himself, teasing tone or not, or slammed the phone down in his ear. She’d merely told him she was doing all right and that the garage was busy and she had to get back to work.
Which I should do myself.
Eying the shed, knowing Nico was in there going through parts of his family’s history, Wyn continued to move chairs off the porch, but paused the moment he saw Nico pass by the open shed door.
“You sure I can’t interest you in a drink?” Wyn shouted, getting the guy’s attention. “It’s hot as hell today.”
A thunk sounded in the kitchen right then, and Wyn glared and muttered under his breath, “I know he’s your son, lady, but I got a job to do, so keep your house rattling to yourself.”
Wyn grabbed a couple of waters out of a cooler he’d placed by the steps and crossed the lawn to Nico. If Mohammad wouldn’t come to the mountain, the mountain would go to him.
Last night Wyn had solidified in his mind one hundred percent that Maddie’s thief was an employee of the garage, but that didn’t mean he could ignore or give a pass to Nico Corsini. On the tiniest chance that his gut was wrong, Wyn had to be thorough. He had to cover all his bases. And hell, for all he knew, Nico had partnered up with someone at the garage to do Maddie harm. Crazier things had happened. He had a ghost constantly trying to make her presence known as proof of that.
Nico met Wyn partway across the lawn, his hands tucked loosely in his pockets. Mid-eighties temperature, a higher humidity than normal, and a cloudless sunny sky had Wyn sweating buckets, but Nico, in his too-stylish short-sleeve plaid shirt, belted jeans, and perfectly combed wavy black hair, looked as perfect as if he’d just stepped out of an air-conditioned apartment.
Wyn stretched out his hand, offering one of the icy cold bottles to Nico, but the man waved it off.
“I brought lunch and drinks for myself,” Nico shared. “Thanks though. I have everything I need in the car.”
“Please.” Wyn kept his hand extended, pushing for what he needed. “It’s a bottle of water,” he said with a growl, “not champagne. You drinking one bottle is not going to break my bank.”
Nico dipped his head. “Sorry.” He took the drink from Wyn and offered a tight smile. “Thank you.”
Happy, but with a twinge of guilt, Wyn conceded, “I didn’t mean to sound defensive.”
Nico waved Wyn off again. “I apologize if my refusal came across as prick-ish. Being home again has me a little tenser than I’d anticipated, and I’m just trying to keep out of everyone’s hair.”
Wyn’s bare-bones, gut assessment of Nico was that the man lived his entire life wound extremely tight, and that being in Redemption had little to do with that rigid pole stuck up his ass, but he merely said, “I understand. It has to be tough knowing that you have to be brutal about some of these sentimental mementos and let them go.” His own history with his mother and aunt passing hit him unexpectedly in the chest, and some of the chips of cop hardness br
oke away from his heart. He made eye contact, knowing this guy would be able to find some kinship in Wyn’s stare. “You’re not a terrible person because you’re letting some stuff go. I know it feels like you are, but I swear you’re not.”
“My mom has been dead for many years and my dad and I were never the closest after she passed. I thought I’d moved past this house and this town.” Pausing, his angular jaw tightening, Nico took a swig off the small bottle of water. “It’s been tougher coming back than I thought it would be.”
“Redemption gets under your skin.” Wyn suddenly chuckled, adding, “We’re like a tick that way.”
Nico’s lips twisted in a wry line. “Are you telling me I’m going to have to burn the place down to finally get it completely off my back?”
“No, no, no. I’m a cop. I would never tell you to do that.” The majestic yet strangely welcoming pull of this unusual house loomed over the backyard, marking the men in shadows, casting a chill in the hot summer air. “I expect you could excise it if you truly wanted, but that even then it would still leave a scar.”
Nico frowned. “You don’t sound like you love this place any more than I do.”
Wyn perked up. “No, just the opposite,” he corrected. “This place is entrenched deeply in my heart. I could never walk away from it.”
“From Redemption?” Nico glanced at the house and then across the field before settling back on Wyn. “Or from Maddie?”
“Neither.” More truth, when he was trying to snow and lull this guy, poured out of Wyn. “I already tried to get one out. She wouldn’t let go. Or more correctly, I didn’t want to let her go. I don’t expect Redemption would release me easily either.”
“Not true for me.” Nico crossed his arms and rubbed them, as if cold. “At least I didn’t think so.”
Much as this guy appeared perfect in every way—to Wyn’s great irritation—right now his heart tugged. “You said you couldn’t wait to leave and get out of here fast. Maybe the memories are holding you so tightly because you didn’t give yourself a chance to say a real goodbye.”
“Maybe. Anyway,” Nico abruptly jerked his thumb back toward the shed, “I have to get back to work.”
Shoved back into job mode, Wyn said, “I’ll take that for you,” and effortlessly plucked the empty water bottle out of Nico’s hand. “Good luck. And just yell if you need anything. I’ll be working around the house most of the day.”
Nico’s nod was stilted. “Thanks, Lieutenant Ashworth. For everything.”
“Please. Call me Wyn.”
Nico’s answering smile seemed to come easier. “Much appreciated, Wyn. I’ll let you get back to it then. Bye.” He waved, did an about face, and began a long stride back to the shed.
Victory pumping through his system—I got his prints and DNA!—but also feeling like an prick for being happy that he’d successfully tricked a guy he’d had a genuine conversation with, Wyn nonetheless turned to start the quick trek to the kitchen to get a plastic bag to secure the bottle. Before he took one full step, a flash of white from above caught his eye and stopped him dead in his tracks. Motherfucker.
Wyn’s heart thumped fast and then dropped into his stomach. In rapid succession a female figure in white flashed from one window to the next to the next, seemingly with her arm outstretched, pointing, through the window, toward the shed. If she’d been a human form, Wyn would have said she was frantic. He glanced at the shed, anxious to see if Nico had seen what was happening on the second floor of his old home, but the man had already disappeared into the structure.
His chest pounding hard, Wyn looked back up to the windows. Nobody was there. Or rather nothing was there. In that split second of looking away, the ghost had vanished.
What are you trying to tell us? This did not appear to be a mother grieving a separation from her son. She seemed like she was trying to tell them something. Or warn them. Fuck. Wyn sucked in a deep cleansing breath. And now, as with his gut about the break in specific to last night, there could be no mistake that the ghost was specifically trying to tell them something about Nico. The way she’d jumped the windows, getting closer to the shed and Nico each time, pointing in the same direction…What the fuck is going on here? Wyn had been half sarcastic in his thought that Nico could be working with someone at the garage in an effort to do something to this house. Now he had to wonder if that was actually true. Had Nico always been some kind of bad seed, and Mrs. Corsini was trying to warn them of his presence on the property?
Wyn’s gut twisted. During that brief conversation with Nico, empathy had poured out of Wyn, more than once. Was his bullshit detector that off kilter? Or maybe Nico was just that good at putting on a mask.
His stomach still churning, Wyn strode into the house and bagged the water bottle. He needed to get it to his friend for analysis as soon as possible.
* * * *
Maddie handed the keys of a Kawasaki Vulcan Classic motorcycle over to a new customer. “It’s a beautiful piece of machinery.” The old-school gray, black, and white bike made Maddie whistle with envy. “The fixes were all cosmetic. There wasn’t any damage done to the guts. You’re good to go, and thanks for giving us a shot at the rebuild.”
“Larry said you were the best,” the stout woman mentioned Mr. Courtland, Maddie’s best customer, “and he was right. Next time my everyday ride needs a tune up, I’ll bring it to you.”
Beaming, Maddie shook the woman’s hand with vigor. “Thank you so much. We’re here whenever you need us. Have a great afternoon.”
Maddie walked the woman to the door, waved bye one more time, and then exhaled for what felt like the first time all day. She turned back to the customer service desk and found Ernie with a twinkle in his eyes, hip braced against the side of the counter.
“You’re good at holding those new people who come in,” he told her. “Stavros was right to pick you to take over this place.”
“And I don’t know what I would do without you,” Maddie praised right back. “Especially today. Thank you for coming in. I hated to even have to call you on a Saturday. It’s not like Robbie to bail on work at the last minute. He didn’t say much.” The brief, agitated phone conversation with her employee this morning still hung in her mind. “Do you think something is wrong with Felicity?”
Brackets pulled at the deep lines around Ernie’s mouth. “I hope not. I’m not sure what that boy would do if something happened to her.”
A wistful smile panged from Maddie’s heart. “He is crazy in love with her.”
“And so patient with her too.” Ernie shook his head softly and looked toward the heavens. “Never seen someone be such a hothead in so many ways but so calm and soothing with one person in another.”
“I think she’s good for him in that way too. Maybe I should call and check on them. Do you think I should?” A frantic Felicity yelling in this very spot materialized in Maddie’s mind. Anxiety shot through Maddie, much as she hated that it did, and she looked to Ernie. “Maybe not. What do you think?”
“Maybe not,” Ernie agreed. “Even though I do believe she’s much better about you now.”
“Right.” Maddie nodded, letting go, feeling better about it. “No sense in looking for trouble though, just in case. I got you.”
The phone rang. Maddie went to grab it, but Ernie beat her to it. He asked the person to hold, and then said to Maddie, “I thought I’d work reception and the phones for a while and let you take a spell with Jayden.” Ernie’s hangdog expression was something fierce to behold.
“Come on; he’s a curious kid. A good kid.” Glancing back into the garage, to the tall, dark-haired teen, now pointing at a Chevy and talking to Bill, she kept her voice low. “He’s not that bad.”
“The questions are coming fast and furious today, and I already gotta deal with that enough from my grandkids.” Ernie’s expression turned comically bleak. “I need a little break.”
“All right, all right.” After all, Ernie had come in on his scheduled da
y off. “I’ll go help him out.”
“Bless you.” Hooking a stool with his foot, Ernie slid it over and took a seat. “The Cherokee with the rattling engine is next,” he shared, and then transitioned to the phone call. “Thanks for holding. This is Ernie…”
Chuckling softly, Maddie left the front desk to Ernie and jogged into the body of the garage and over to Jayden. “You ready to learn a bit more about a rattling engine?” she asked the kid.
Jayden’s amber-brown gaze lit his whole face with a café-cream glow. “You know it.” He didn’t even wait to follow her; he strode over to the Jeep SUV first.
In a Cherokee this age, Maddie would bet that the catalytic converter was broken, but she would help lead Jayden to the answer through a series of standard tests rather than outright telling him her professional impressions. “First we’ll get a read on the engine.” She popped the hood. “What are you going to grab to check that?”
Jayden jumped to answer, “A vacuum gauge,” like a kid overeager to get the teacher to call on him in school.
“Got it in one.” When he grabbed one of the gauges off a nearby shelf, Maddie looked down at the complex guts of the SUV and then back up to her rookie. “Where are you going to connect it?”
“Intake manifold.”
“You’re rocking and rolling today.” She gave the young man a good hard thump on the shoulder. “Go ahead and hook it up. I’ll start the engine, and you tell me what the reading is and what it means.”
Just as Maddie spun to go to the driver’s side door, a rough voice softly filled her ear. “I love to hear you talk cars.”
“Crap!” Maddie jumped, her heart slamming up into her throat. She spun, finding Wyn, but still put her hand to her chest to calm the fast beating within. “You scared me.”
“Sorry.” Wyn pet her shoulders and upper arms, she guessed in an attempt to soothe her. “I was going for an element of surprise, but I guess I jumped that and went to instigating a heart attack.”
“Is everything okay?” Maddie slid her focus in the direction of the house, knowing Wyn had planned to keep an eye on Nico today. “I didn’t expect to see you.”