Authors: Frances Stockton
“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.
Morgan hoped Eve hadn’t gotten mixed up in something
terrible. She very much wanted Eve to be happy and find her future with Remy.
Eve certainly had a crush on Remy, but there was more, so much more than the
other woman could ever anticipate coming their way.
“Taran, do you have your smartphone?”
“Are you kidding? You’re asking a Maddox if he has the
technology of a computer in his back pocket.”
“I take that as a yes. Can I use it?”
Taran pulled out his touchscreen phone and handed it over.
“Inside the diner first, once there you can share with me what you want to do
with it.”
“Make a few calls, surf the web,” she said. “I’d think a
Maddox would know how the phone works.”
“Since when did you get such an attitude?”
“Since Ethan showed me that being submissive doesn’t mean I
have to be silent or shy.”
“Way to go, Ethan, he taught you right,” Taran remarked.
They went inside the diner that was starting to come alive
with activity. The firefighters must have given the staff the all clear to
return to work because the smell of breakfast was strong.
“Morgan!” Alex Grant’s voice boomed from the kitchen. Within
seconds of seeing her, he rushed across the diner to sweep her into his arms.
“Thank God you’re all right.”
“I’m sorry about the fire, Alex. If it had damaged Book
Haven Diner, I’d feel even worse.”
“Now don’t worry about that. No one was hurt. That’s the
important thing. When it’s time to talk to the insurance company, let me know
if I can be of help.”
“I will.”
“Taran, take Morgan to a booth,” Alex demanded.
“If you hadn’t been all lovey-dovey, I’d have done so by
now,” Taran pointed out.
“Smartass,” Alex remarked.
Alex let go of Morgan, and Taran led her to a booth, taking
the seat across from her.
“Mind if I join y’all?” Samantha requested, carrying a
laptop.
“You bet,” Morgan said, scooting over so that Samantha could
sit next to her.
Taran glared at Samantha. “You realize if you’d answered my
calls last night, a lot of this could have been avoided?”
“Don’t bite my head off, pretty boy. I’ve got work to do.
Why don’t you make yourself useful and get us some grub?”
Morgan watched Taran stand up and lean in really close to
Samantha, whisper something and saunter off. Judging from the flush that
flooded her pretty face, Morgan bet another Maddox had just declared open
season on a woman’s defenses.
Morgan could empathize. She only hoped she hadn’t ruined
things with Ethan by turning on him. She didn’t really blame sex as the cause
of the fire or the loss of Grandma’s spirit. As soon as she was able, she’d
apologize sincerely.
Worried about everything, she debated going to her apartment
this afternoon. It was odd that Grandma Everhart hadn’t shown herself in a
while. Her last contact was to Ethan, via EVP.
While Taran went to get them all breakfast, Samantha became
entranced with the laptop. Morgan couldn’t tell quite what her friend was
doing, but she thought it best not to interrupt and focused on Taran’s
smartphone.
“Is that Taran’s phone?” Sam asked.
“Yep, mine is ancient. You know, it’s odd, but I haven’t
picked up anything about him from the phone. Same thing happens if I touch
something belonging to Phalen and Cassie. I was comfortable in their house. I
think the closer I get to my friends, the more I’m able to control my gifts
around them.”
“Interesting, perhaps that’s because Taran, Phalen and
Cassie are family to you now.”
“Can I try something?” Morgan asked. “Give me something of
yours, a pen, anything.”
Samantha pulled an aluminum wallet out of her back pocket.
“Will this do?”
“I think so.” Morgan took it in hand. Momentarily, she got
impressions of credit cards, responsible spending habits and a driver’s
license. But it wasn’t too much for her to take and it proved something. “Well
how about that, I’m not overwhelmed by your things either. That’s good.”
“Can I see Taran’s phone for a minute?” Samantha requested,
taking the wallet back.
“Why?”
“Please?”
Morgan handed it over. Samantha scrolled through it, punched
in some numbers and handed it back. “Whoa,” she commented, more to herself than
Morgan.
“Whoa, what’s that about?”
“Taran took off all the numbers of the women that he used to
have stored in his contacts. There were a lot of them, including Catherine
O’Brien, who was a Dominatrix.”
“How do you know the numbers had even been there?”
Samantha grinned. “I used to be a hacker in another life,
among other things, but when you’re starving, it was better than turning
tricks…or so I thought. It’s behind me now.”
Morgan felt her eyes widen. “You hacked Taran’s phone?”
“No. In this case, he left it in my sedan when we went to
save Cassie from Donatelli.”
“So you looked. You didn’t have to admit to the hacking.”
“Maybe I feel comfortable enough with you to come clean.
Cassie knows. I told her when she asked me to be in the wedding. I should have
said something sooner.”
“Your secrets are yours to share, Sam. We’re friends whether
you wish to keep them or tell all. I’m thinking Ethan knows though.”
“He does. He’ll keep the truth, even from you, because he
knows it’s my decision to share. Just do me a favor, Morgan.”
“Anything,” Morgan promised.
“Don’t tell Taran. I’m not ready for him yet.”
Morgan shook her head. “I think you are. Maybe not today or
next week, but something tells me that man just staked his claim on you. If he
did, you’re toast. Wait until you see him naked…or almost naked, as I did.”
Now it was Sam’s turn to stare. “Do tell!”
“On a scale from one to ten, Taran’s right up there with
Phalen, a ninety-five. He definitely has the Maddox ass and eyes. I can only
guess that his towel covered an impressive…you know, package.”
“Wow! That’s a mighty big leap on the scale.”
“Keep in mind I’m biased and think Ethan’s off the charts.”
“As it should be, Ethan is pretty hot. But between you and
me, Taran is the hottest of the brothers.”
“Then give him a shot. What did you really do to his phone
just now?”
Samantha glanced around, whispering, “Saw that my number was
first on his speed dial.”
“Cool, yep, he’s close to making his move. Give him an
opening and he’s going to take it. Just saying…”
They changed the subject and got back to work. A waitress
brought over the breakfast special, vegetable omelets, home fries and fresh hot
coffee. Sam buried her nose in her research. Morgan used Taran’s phone to
Google the Andrews’ family orchard near Concord.
It was one of the oldest orchards in New England, dating
back to when English landowners came over to settle in Massachusetts Bay
Colony. Over time, the orchard was featured in New England literature and folk
tales, but with the advent of fast food joints and supermarkets, Andrews Apple
Orchard bought out a neighboring vegetable farm and became Andrews Produce Farm
and Orchard to compete.
Five years ago an injection of money saved the orchard from
going extinct. It had been declared an historical landmark. Alisa Andrews
married Spencer Bailey about the same time and he’d adopted her daughter,
Jennifer. Alisa’s sister, Maura, became the manager of the farm.
Now much of the vegetables, apples, cider, pies and locally
made baked goods made were being shipped to grocery stores and kept the farm in
the black. The haunted hay rides in October helped make the farm more visible
and bring in locals and tourists alike.
“Samantha, check this out. If I understand this article
correctly, Spencer Bailey bought the Andrews orchard and married Alisa. She
then moved to Boston with her husband, becoming a socialite.”
Samantha pushed the laptop aside. “There’s nothing illegal
in that, Morgan.”
“No. But when I talked to Alisa, she genuinely seemed to
miss running the orchard. Her sister is the manager. To help promote the
orchard and hay rides, Maura Andrews created a social network page. Look.”
Sam took Taran’s phone, scrolled through the data and came
to a photo. She stalled, clicked a few keys on the laptop, brought up a shadowy
video, pausing it on someone’s face. “Fuckin’ hell, this is something Ethan
needs to see. I’m saving this site to my favorites.”
“What did you find out?”
“I can’t tell you right now, Morgan. But Ethan and I need to
get a search warrant for that orchard and, hopefully, the right to question
Maura Andrews in the process. Ethan and I knew her name, but little else.
Someone buried her identity under a mountain of bullshit. Why?”
Morgan couldn’t answer because her phone went off. “Hello?”
she answered.