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Authors: Frances Stockton

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“What time is it?” she asked.

A quick glance around the guest room showed that blackout
shades were down, curtains were closed and the low-level lighting came from a
few plugin nightlights.

“It’s about dinner time. Are you hungry? You look a thousand
times better, honey. Your color’s returned. You’re smiling. The pain’s gone,
isn’t it?”

Nodding, she used one hand to test the bandage on her
forehead. It was almost hard to believe it’d been two nights since she’d gotten
attacked in the ladies room of Druid Creek Castle.

She’d been pretty sure it’d been a man. Her money was
Spencer Bailey, but she’d been told Bailey had been giving a presentation. It
was possible Alisa came back in. She’d been very angry with Morgan.

During one of her more lucid moments in the last few days,
Ethan gently explained that the Danvers police were conducting a fair
investigation. He was monitoring the situation and couldn’t accuse anyone of
anything because Morgan didn’t really know who’d struck her.

“I’m feeling much better. A couple of stitches won’t keep me
down for long. Thankfully, Ryan didn’t have to shave much of my hair.”

“Just a little bit, but you look fine, Morgan.”

“Liar, the bruising wouldn’t subside that quickly.”

“Okay, you’re beautiful, bruises and stitches won’t ever
change that.” Tentatively, he started petting Delilah’s orange tabby head.
“You, vixen, are trouble with a capital T. Since I want my testicles to remain
undamaged, I’m going to set you on the bed. No claws, no one gets hurt, deal?”

“Show no fear, Detective,” Morgan warned, laughing softly as
he succeeded in removing Delilah from his lap. “Men really are protective of
those things.”

“My balls are not just things! They’re sensitive, and while
I’d appreciate some sucking and licking action, being sliced and diced is not
my idea of erotic pleasure. Besides, I need to keep them in fine working order
for you.”

“I’d think that would require more than testicles.”

“Someday, I’m hoping you’ll want kids with me. My cock’s
wide awake and undamaged. You won’t be disappointed when we get together. For
now, how about I make us something to eat?”

Surprised that he’d mentioned children, Morgan was taken
aback by the fact that she wasn’t panicked. She’d always liked kids. She just
thought it was a bit soon for her and Ethan to be talking about a family.

“What do you think, Morgan?”

“About children? It’s way too soon for a woman who’s been
celibate for longer than I care to admit to think about kids.”

“You’re not going to be celibate much longer. I’m talking
about dinner,” Ethan answered. “I’m a decent cook. Not as good as Alex, but I
sure can fix you up something that sticks to your ribs.”

Her tummy, still occupied by Samson, grumbled. “Yeah, I
could eat. But don’t go through so much trouble. Vegetable soup would be great.
I should be getting back to my apartment anyway.”

“Why? Phalen and Cassie learned what happened and he
commanded me to take care of you here. Think I’m going to piss off my big
brother?”

“Well, there are my plants to consider. I’ve no clothes but
the sweats I’m wearing and you have a job to get to. I’m hoping you’ve gotten
something on Spencer Bailey by now.”

Ethan frowned and sat up to take hold of Samson and
carefully place him beside his sister. The kitties didn’t look so happy about
being displaced from their chosen laps, but they didn’t jump off the bed.

“Now I don’t want you to get upset,” Ethan warned.

“Uh-oh, that means you’ve either gotten nothing or you’ve
changed your mind about believing what I saw, what I know.”

“You need to have a little faith in me. I admit that I don’t
understand all this ghost stuff and your abilities scare the fuck out of me.
Not because I can’t handle it, but because you get sick. I hate that. I won’t
ever lie to you about it.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“I’m a cop, Morgan. I need to look at this whole situation
with that perspective. When you’re ready, I’d like to go through everything
that happened to you in the ladies room, start to finish.”

Morgan stared at him. He was so handsome, so patient and
open and kind. Even though he admitted his fears, he wasn’t the type of man to
let what scared him stop him from finding the truth. He was not a coward.

“Okay, I can do that. Did anyone find my digital voice
recorder? Remy knew I had it.”

“There was nothing in that restroom except your cellphone.
Crime scene analysts were able to match your blood to that found on the sink.
No prints but yours on the cellphone. It’s dried out and been returned.”

“I didn’t hit my head on the marble sink. I’m pretty sure
someone hit me.”

“Ryan believes you were struck by something. Judging from the
size of the bruise on your head, he thinks it was a flashlight. You passed out
due to the migraine and shock more than from what hit you.”

“I remember a bright light shining in my eyes. It was one of
those LED types, with a very bright bluish light. Then there was a hand. I
thought it was a big hand, a man’s hand. But my head was already pounding after
that EVP session and I was so very weak.”

“Remy offered to teach me all about electronic voice
phenomena. I want to learn about it from you.”

“Remy’s not a bad guy, you know.”

“I know. We’ve been talking. I’m no longer convinced he’s
trying to get into your pants.”

“I tend to wear skirts more than pants.”

“You know what I meant. Remy regards you as a friend. He was
really worried about you and offered his help in any way he can. He also told
me about the job offer.”

That made Morgan smile. “I’m going to be a consultant for
his show.”

“You sure you want to do that? Sometimes your visions cause
these severe headaches. It worries me.”

“Believe me, I don’t like headaches. But I’m willing to
handle them if I can help Remy’s team or give spirits such as Jennifer Bailey a
sense of peace so that they may cross over, if that’s what she wants.”

“You’re really convinced Bailey had something to do with his
stepdaughter’s death? Spencer Bailey is an extremely powerful man and there was
nothing in our investigation that indicated he could have hurt her. His alibi
was solid.”

“Yes, I believe he did it. She’s been trying to communicate
with her mother all along. I’d not realized the Baileys had attended Phalen and
Cassie’s wedding. They weren’t on my radar. Jenna must have attached herself to
her mom and then your tux.”

“Why a tuxedo?”

“Because it was either her stepfather’s or her killer wore
an identical tuxedo when she died. She then recognized you as the detective who
helped her from the start and still wants your help.”

“After what you said at the reception, I started looking
into the menswear shop we rented the tuxes from. The owner’s records are a bit
archaic, but he’s going through his files to see who owned mine previously.”

“If I’m right, the wrong man’s behind bars serving time for
her murder, Ethan. She didn’t have justice. That would be enough to trap her
soul here. I also believe she remains to keep an eye on her mother.”

“Anything else I should look into?” Ethan asked.

“The apple orchard owned by Alisa Bailey’s family, she told
me her family name is Andrews.”

“Why is the orchard important?”

“Each time I’ve seen Jenna, I smelled two things very
clearly, apples and smoke. Apples were more prominent, leading me to think
you’ll find more clues to what really happened to her there.”

“And the smoke?”

“The smoke smells similar to a charcoal barbeque that’s been
doused by a sudden storm. Mrs. Bailey said the bodies that were found had been
burnt.”

Ethan grew very still. Morgan studied him, using the
low-level lighting to her advantage. He felt responsible for Jenna’s death and
she wanted to reassure him that it wasn’t his fault.

“Yes, beyond recognition. DNA and dental records established
that one of those eight was Jennifer. Autopsies also showed that the girls were
all executed before the fire. Boston Fire Department had to put out the fire
before we could get the bodies out. It’s not a scene I’d want to witness
again.”

“Ethan, I know you think you made mistakes in her case. But
you’re not to blame for what happened to her.”

“I’m not sure about that, sweetie. Sam and I followed the
wrong clues because she’d been missing for more than a week. After forty-eight
hours, the chances of finding a missing person alive decreases substantially.
Jennifer Bailey was my first case where I was partnered with Samantha. I didn’t
want to fuck up.”

“Don’t you see? I think Erica was right. Maybe Jenna’s
killer used Erica as a means to have enough time to create an alibi. How’d you
find Erica anyway? Did she offer help out of nowhere?”

“Alisa Bailey requested for us to talk to Erica. Erica had
been the family’s psychic advisor and Bailey didn’t object to us talking to
her. He did call her a fraud after she accused him.”

“It’s possible Spencer Bailey didn’t think Erica was real or
that she’d turn whistleblower. Truth be told, Ethan, I’m worried about Erica
White. What happened to her since then?”

“Sam investigated Erica shortly after the Bailey case was
closed. Erica was wanted in three states for fraud. She’d swindled hundreds of
thousands of dollars out of innocent folks who simply wanted to reconnect with
loved ones.”

“It’s important to remember psychic gifts vary. My Grandma
Everhart taught me all about psychometry and the past, but her gift was
foresight. It’s not mine. Erica may have believed in her gift or misused it.”

“You do have an amazing gift. I still have trouble
comprehending it. But if I don’t try, I’m going to lose you. I fucked up with
you once. I won’t do that again, ever.”

“I was hurt when you questioned me about Enid. You were so
firm and bossy and more than a little skeptical.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t say it enough. There’s no excuse, but I
was worried.”

“I know now that you didn’t mean to hurt me. I’ve some
experience with cops. They tend to think in black and white, not the shades of
gray in between.”

“What kind of experience are we talking about?”

“My stepfather’s the chief of police of Billings, New York,
a small town neighboring Oswego. Admittedly, we don’t communicate much. After
he sent me to a shrink because he’d overheard me talking to ghosts, I retreated
from a lot of things, life, school and my friends because I was labeled as the
weird witchy chick.”

Ethan sat up some, turning to prop himself up on his elbow.
“What happened to your dad, honey? Did your parents divorce?”

Morgan shook her head. “He died in a freak accident while on
a dig. He was an archaeologist.”

“Morgan, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I was twelve when it happened. My daddy always
believed in me. He bought me my first Tarot cards. He encouraged me to touch
things he’d bring home, claiming it was my gift to solve the puzzles and
mysteries of the past.”

“Your father was a wise man,” Ethan said. “But it’s not
okay, is it? I saw your eyes when you spoke of him. You miss him the way I miss
my mom and dad.”

“You must think I’m a selfish bitch.”

“Why the hell would you say that?”

“I’ve never told you any of this, never held you or kissed
you to make the pain of your loss go away. But…I’ve been so scared. Most of the
men in my life leave or turn away because they can’t handle what I do. My daddy
died. My stepfather sent me packing at eighteen. Boys fucked me and bolted as
soon as the novelty wore off.”

Ethan reached out with his free hand, gently stroking her
cheek with his thumb. “I’m not like any man you’ve ever known. I’m not afraid
of your psychometry or ghosts and I’ll certainly never let anything chase me
away. Not even you. Got that?”

Morgan wanted to believe him. She did. Doing so would open
her up to more pain than any migraine she’d ever suffered.

Being with Ethan would be an all-or-nothing deal. If she
gave in to him, she’d give him her heart and soul. If she didn’t, she’d lose.
It was time to take a chance and fall in love with the only man she’d ever
want.

“All you have to do to keep me with you is say you want me
to stay. You have the power to destroy me if you wanted. It’s a chance I’m
willing to take. I’m yours, Morgan.”

“Mine?” she whispered, genuinely touched by his sense of
compassion and honesty. It’d been there all along. She’d just been too scared
of being hurt to see it.

His hand shifted, his fingers curling about her cheek. “Yes,
but giving myself to you comes with a price.”

“You want sex. Lots of sex and bondage,” she guessed, seeing
the truth in his warm gray eyes. Normally, she’d think gray eyes would be cool.
Ethan’s reminded her of melted pewter, hot, intense and tempting.

“There’s no denying that. You accept me, there’s going to be
a whole lot of fucking, lovemaking, submission, discipline, the whole shebang.
I can’t turn off being a Dominant. And you are most definitely submissive. But
that’s not what I meant.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“The price I’d ask from you is your loyalty and trust. If I’m
yours, you’re mine. I’ll never cheat, never walk away or let you down. I expect
the same in return.”

“That’s a mighty big promise, Detective. You’ve no idea how
much I want to grab hold of you and kiss you senseless right now.”

“Then you accept?”

How could she not? The devotion he’d displayed since she’d
met him couldn’t be ignored. No one would love her as much as Ethan Maddox did.

“Yes, Ethan Maddox. I want to stay with you. I want
everything you do.”

His brow rose, the look on his face absolutely priceless as
he took in her words.

Then he smiled. His teeth were even and white, except for
his right canine that overlapped his lateral incisor just a hair. It was an
adorable trait and made him more approachable and much more attractive.

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