Cuff Master (3 page)

Stepping back from Morgan, but staying close enough to
protect her from the group heading in their direction, Ethan turned toward
them. He did so in time to see his little brother pocketing his phone.

“Just for the record, I was just going to update Ethan’s
relationship status on Facebook as taken,” Taran stated. “Looks as if he’s
making progress with the elusive and lovely Morgan Everhart, doesn’t it?”

Coming right up to them, Sam took Morgan’s elbow and helped
bring her away from the car. “You okay, Morgan? If Taran’s offended you, say
the word and I’ll put him in lockup for the rest of the night.”

“The only one of us who’ll get locked into anything will be
you, Detective Riley,” Taran promised. He took enormous pride in goading Sam
now that he’d decided to take on the challenges she continuously dished out.

“I’m fine,” Morgan reassured. “Ethan and I were just getting
some supplies to decorate Phalen’s SUV.”

“You two were going to decorate without the rest of the
wedding party?” Kyran Black asked. “I’m offended, Alex, how about you?”

“I think the maid of honor and best man needed some time
alone,” Alex Grant answered. “Since you’re a daddy now, I’m sure you know how
precious it is to have some quiet time with Anna.”

“There is that,” Kyran agreed. “So many weddings, so little
time. This makes the third since your July shindig with Ryan.”

“Don’t forget the twins’ christening,” Dallas McKay added.
“It is poetic justice that Kyran’s wife had two daughters. Just wait ’til the
boys start calling.”

“When that happens, Kyran’s going to lock the girls in their
rooms and throw away the key,” Anna Black said, chuckling. For a woman who’d
had twins, she looked amazing in her burgundy gown.

“Gentlemen, can we talk about this after we’re back inside?
Might only be October, but it’s downright cold out here,” Grace McKay
interjected. “Cassie has Phalen and most of the Alexandria Griffins on the
dance floor doing the Cupid Shuffle. This is our only chance to do the
decorating right.”

“My wife’s right,” Dallas agreed, moving over to tuck Grace
into his embrace and rub her arms.

“Feels as though a storm might be kicking up,” Taran said.
“Good thing Phalen and Cassie are heading to the airport tonight.”

“They’re so lucky,” Morgan stated, moving farther away from
the Acura. “Wish I could spend three weeks in Maui. As it is, it’s October.
Salem’s extra busy this time of year.”

“I’ll take you someplace warm after Halloween,” Ethan
offered.

“Nonsense, Detective Maddox, I can’t possibly afford that,”
she replied, immediately unbuttoning the tux jacket. “Here, thank you for the
use of your coat.”

“Morgan, keep the jacket,” Ethan said, becoming very aware
that she was putting up a wall. He didn’t understand why.

Seeing her pause in the unbuttoning, she looked off, her
eyes, highlighted by the moonlight, gleaming for a moment, then going dark as a
cloud overhead blocked the moon.

“I can’t keep it. It’s too much. It’s a rental,” she said
absently. “Flashes of weddings and proms are going off in my head. They’re not
a bad thing, just confusing.”

“All our tuxedos are rentals,” Ethan said, becoming worried.
She continued to look…lost.

Recalling what happened when he first put the jacket around
her, he reached out to take her hand. She stilled, shaking her head and jerking
back as if he’d struck her. He’d not realized she’d focused her attention over
his shoulder until she backed into the trunk of his car.

“Morgan, honey, what is it?” Ethan demanded.

Her eyes closed, her lips pursed and she reopened her eyes
to refocus on whatever she was seeing. Following her line of sight, he saw that
she was staring at the doorway they’d come through a few minutes ago.

And then she began to speak to him in a voice he couldn’t be
certain was hers, scaring the fuck out of him in the process.

“This tux was worn by someone evil, someone who did
terrible, unmentionable things to many girls and whom you’ve met before. The
tuxedo was cleaned, pressed and sold during a going-out-of-business auction.
It’s come full circle. I fear you’re about to face that evil again, Detective
Maddox.”

She continued to talk, but she became so quiet it was almost
impossible to hear her over the wind that had kicked up. The wedding party
moved in close to brace themselves. The scent of apples permeated everything.

“We should get inside,” Kyran urged, putting his arm around
his wife to warm her.

Morgan continued to focus on the door. She frowned, mumbling
beneath her breath. Who was she talking to? No one was at the door. Ethan
wanted to go over and investigate it, take evidence, search for DNA or a clue,
anything. All he saw was the door.

Strangely, the amber light above the doorway dimmed.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Morgan murmured, then
looked up at Ethan. “She knows you didn’t mean to follow the wrong clues.” Her
eyes were open, but he couldn’t be sure she was seeing him.

“Morgan, snap out of it. Please. You could get sick. Who are
you talking to?”

“Jenna. Her name is Jenna…Jennifer…maybe? She was missing
and you’d tried to find her. Found her with the other girls.” Morgan returned
her gaze to the doorway. “She’s pointing at you. She wants you to help her
mom.”

“What?” What scared Ethan the most was that he recognized
Jennifer’s name and he had no idea what to do about it.

“She’s weakening, I’m sorry. The electrical source she’s
using isn’t enough to sustain her presence much longer and she’s transient
here. She wants her mama to know that Erica wasn’t wrong.”

Unable to take anymore, Ethan grabbed hold of Morgan and his
coat and brought her close. She shook her head again, blinking rapidly until
she finally,
finally
looked at him and saw
him
.

For a moment, she swayed as nothing but silence filled the
air. The cold evaporated into a North Shore early fall evening. The full moon
was shining above and the eeriness of the last few minutes faded. The light
from the door returned to its normal glow.

“She’s gone,” Morgan told him when she found her voice.
“When you touch me, my abilities go dormant. I’m sorry, Detective. I wish I
could have helped you more.”

“Don’t be sorry. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I’ve freaked you out. Those kisses were really nice. I’m
sorry I ruined the evening for you.”

“Morgan, I’m not mad. Nothing’s ruined.”

“You’re about to revisit a case from your past that was
never really closed. Jenna needs you. Don’t let her down. If you need to
discuss her further, call me. I’m more than glad to help her and her mom.”

With that, she pushed out of his arms, leaving the jacket
behind, and rushing toward Sam, Anna and Grace.

“Morgan, get back here,” he ordered. She didn’t obey. She
kept running, disappearing into Druid Creek Castle with the ladies.

“What the fuck was that?” Ethan cursed, glaring at the men
as if they were to blame for whatever the fuck just happened.

“Afraid only you could hear what she was saying when she was
doing her mojo thing with the jacket,” Taran admitted, coming closer.

“What kind of talk is that from a lawyer, Taran? It’s a
goddamned rental! How can there be mojo anything with a tuxedo?”

“Can’t answer that, bro. Why don’t you go on inside and ask
your woman? Let her touch the jacket again and see what she says.”

“If she does that, she’ll get sick. She’s already weak. I
don’t want her to spend the rest of the night sleeping off a migraine.”

He’d far rather have her sleep soundly next to him in bed,
as she’d done that night seven months ago when he took her home from the
hospital.

“Hate to tell you this, bro, I’m pretty sure she thinks she
scared you off.”

“I’m not scared.”

Taran put his hand on Ethan’s shoulder. Only then did he
know he was shaking all over.

Whatever! No tuxedo-mojo-psychometry-apparition was going to
scare Detective Ethan Maddox.

Quickly, he opened his car door and tossed the tux jacket
inside. “Supplies for Phalen’s SUV are in the trunk, gentlemen. Have at them.
I’m going after Morgan.”

“Damn good thing, Ethan,” Alex said. “I’d hate to beat the
snot out of you if you don’t get in there and make sure she’s okay.”

Ethan went back to the restaurant with every intention of
catching up with Morgan. As soon as he entered the building, he realized that
she was nowhere to be seen.

Come to think of it, the ladies of the wedding party were
all gone, even Cassie.

“What’s the matter?” Phalen asked, causing him to start.

“Where are the bridesmaids and the bride?”

“Morgan, Sam, Anna and Grace took my wife upstairs to
change,” Phalen answered. “When they return, Cassie will toss the bouquet and
I’ll toss her garter and we’ll be on our way to the hotel nearest to Logan
Airport.”

“I need to talk to Morgan,” Ethan insisted.

“You’ll have to wait until she comes back down. They’re all
changing into something more comfortable. The dancing won’t end until midnight.
There’s plenty of time to talk to her.”

“You know much about the menswear shop we rented the tuxes
from, bro?”

“Not a whole lot, other than it’s not part of a chain.
Cassie’s father and brothers have used the business in the past.”

“Morgan seems to think mine belonged to someone evil. Do you
think the shop buys previously owned tuxedos and suits?”

“Sometimes, sure, but it’s a legit business. As to who might
have owned yours before, ask Cassie’s brother for the shop owner’s name and
investigate him.”

Phalen looked around and it was obvious he was ready to
leave. “Speaking of these tuxes, I need to change too. Care to join me?”

“Yeah, think I will.” Ethan followed Phalen, hoping they’d
run into the ladies.

It didn’t happen. By the time he and Phalen returned to the
makeshift ballroom in less formal clothes, the groomsmen had descended upon the
remaining wedding guests.

Cassie returned to the ballroom wearing a flowered dress
that paid homage to Hawaii. The bridesmaids followed, each wearing cocktail
dresses.

Morgan looked so pretty in her rose dress that she took his
breath away again. She’d exchanged the pearl earrings she’d been wearing for
long feathered ones that he really liked on her.

Wanting to apologize and see if she was all right, Ethan
made a beeline toward Morgan. Only she’d turned tail when she caught his eye
and took refuge with that ghost hunter guy and his friends.

Whatever she said had the group glued to every word she’d
spoken. The music made it impossible to hear the conversation.

Ethan could make a scene, but then what? He’d talk to her
after the guests left.

The bouquet and garter toss took center stage. He didn’t
remember seeing the bride and groom cutting the cake and figured they must have
done it while he and Morgan were outside.

After the bouquet was caught by Sam and the garter was
caught by Taran, which caused a riot of laughter when she planted him on his
ass before he could slide the garter onto her leg, Ethan looked over to where
he’d last seen his woman.

The table she’d been sitting at was vacant. Checking the
room, he quickly deduced that Morgan was gone, along with Remy Sinclair and the
ghost hunters.

“Sonofabitch!” he growled.

To no one but himself, he whispered, “Morgan Everhart, when
I catch up with you, I’ll make good on that spanking I’d promised.”

Chapter Two

Morgan had a date!

Even though it was Monday and not a romantic occasion, she
was going out with a gorgeous man who could make ladies drool and men take a
second look at their sexuality.

Remy Sinclair was certainly all that and more.

Wading through her closet of skirts, dresses, shirts, jeans
and pants, she had trouble focusing on what to wear. Since she wasn’t going out
with Detective Ethan Maddox, it felt more as if she was preparing for a visit
to the dentist.

After what happened at the reception, she’d tried to call
him at Phalen and Cassie’s Saturday morning to apologize for panicking and
running away. Taran had answered, telling her Ethan and Samantha had gotten a
case in the middle of the night and they’d both gone to Boston.

Taran had assured her it’d be okay if she called Ethan’s cellphone,
but she figured it was best to let Ethan do his job. He and Samantha were
detectives who concentrated on locating missing persons and cold cases, known
as the MPCCHD or Missing Persons and Cold Case Homicide Division of the Boston
Police.

Morgan couldn’t expect him to drop a case in order to help a
teenaged ghost. But she couldn’t forget how good it had felt to be held in
Ethan Maddox’s arms, how lovely and sexy and awe-inspiring his kisses had been.
The taste of him would haunt her for the rest of her natural born life.

And then she had to blow it by freaking him out with her
talk of ghosts and visions and previously owned tuxedos. She didn’t want to
think about that. She needed to think about the night ahead with Remy.

If he hired her as a consultant for his reality TV show, she
could earn extra money to pay the exorbitant costs of owning her small
business. At home, she had basic cable, internet and phone services for her
landline and a modest cellphone she used at work.

Ethan mistakenly thought she’d blocked him from texting her.
She hadn’t. She’d lowered her phone bill by eliminating the exorbitant costs of
a smartphone data plan and keeping track of her minute usage.

While she did Tarot and palm readings for customers and made
decent money for her services, she far preferred clients to bring her antiques,
jewelry, books or trinkets from their loved ones. Psychometry was her gift. She
believed the best way to predict the future was to understand what happened in
the past.

That was why she’d opened her mind to the supernatural.
Ghosts were caught in the past, frequently reliving their own lives or the
moment of their deaths over and over.

There were some spirits and entities that Morgan would never
dare to cross because they were pure evil. The difficult part came when evil
masked itself as something pleasant. It had taken years and Grandma’s teachings
and faith in God to differentiate the bad from the good.

As it was the first Monday in October, Salem was flooded
with tourists this time of year and her finances were in the black. But she
really could use the money Remy Sinclair promised to pay for her time and
assistance. If she earned enough money, she could take online college courses
to finish her degree.

It was her biggest regret when she’d left home at eighteen.
Between the move and now, she’d obtained enough credits here and there to have
an associate’s degree in history. But that wouldn’t be enough to become an
archaeologist.

Thinking of her father, Morgan became nostalgic. She missed
him. It didn’t matter how long ago he’d died. Markus Everhart had been her
constant, her rock. The one who’d believed in her most.

Her mother, Serena, had once accepted Morgan’s psychic
ability. She’d turned against Morgan after the death of her first husband. At
first she’d been happy that her mother had met and married Carter Johnson.

Carter was a decent man. He treated his wife with respect
and he’d initially been the stabilizing male figure Morgan needed when she was
in middle school. Then he became the chief of police for their small upstate
New York town and forbade any and all things supernatural in his home.

He’d crushed her crystals, tossed out her spirit guides and
encyclopedias and Tarot cards. Then he’d sent her to a psychologist after
hearing her talk to one of the many spirits who’d attached themselves to the
antiques her mother brought home from auctions.

The well-paid doctor declared her to be delusional due to
the tragic death of her father and recommended hospitalization to help. Thus,
the middle and high school backlash and rumors that she was crazy began.

Her friends betrayed her by adding to the misconception of
psychics in general. She was seen as odd, wacky and witchy. Most stayed away
from her and she hid behind shyness to protect herself from being hurt.

In the end, she’d left home upon graduating high school and
never went back. Thank goodness she’d had Grandma. She’d adored Sara Everhart,
her father’s mother, because she’d embraced her, oddities and all.

Grandma taught her that the spirits were very real and had
much to say. Morgan embraced that as truth and she’d never again deny it. That
didn’t mean it hadn’t broken her heart when Ethan Maddox looked at her as if
she’d become the devil incarnate the night of Cassie and Phalen’s wedding.

What she’d seen, she couldn’t quite explain. Perhaps if she
talked to Jenna again, she’d understand. What she knew with all her heart was
that frightened teenaged girl had suffered at the hands of an evil, evil man.

“Date, Morgan. Think about your date. It doesn’t matter if
the good detective gets a little pissed, right?”

Ignoring the possibility that she was inviting a whole
passel of trouble by accepting Remy Sinclair’s offer for dinner at Druid Creek
Castle, Morgan grabbed a pair of black leggings, a deep red camisole, a black
sweater, a silky wraparound miniskirt and knee-high black leather boots.

She’d found warm tones, reds, browns, tans and dark greens,
went best with her coloring and hair. Black was always a good choice for her.
The boots were wicked cool and made of the finest leather. They’d been a gift
from Cassie for being her maid of honor.

The sweater, made to hang loosely about the shoulders with a
scalloped neckline, had fashionable tears here and there to show off the red
silk camisole. It reminded her of the slashed tunics worn during the late
Renaissance.

Placing her clothing on her double bed, she went to the
bathroom to brush her teeth and put on makeup. Afterward, she picked up her
favorite hairbrush and ran it through her straight hair, pulled the sides back
into a cute little knot and secured it with a wooden pick the size and length
of a pencil.

Once her hair was done, she dusted her face with some makeup
and went to search for her favorite tri-colored feather earrings that hung down
to her chin. Satisfied with her looks, she returned to her bedroom to get
dressed.

Very comfortable in her apartment because she routinely had
it cleansed and mirrors smudged, a spell her grandmother had taught her to ward
off unwanted spirits or negative energies, she went to check her appearance in
the full-length mirror. She looked really good.

She’d been in two weddings over the last few months and had
learned to show off her face by pulling her hair back. She’d been debating
getting it cut. Not too much, just a few inches so that it fell about her
shoulders in a soft curtain and add some blonde or red highlights to the dark
auburn color.

If she changed her hairstyle, was she supposed to ask
permission from Ethan first?

Now where had that come from? Ethan had no say in what she
wore, what she did with her hair or who she could spend time with.

Her kitchen phone rang, startling her. “Calm down. Remy
promised to call when he was close to Salem. And now I’m talking to myself.”

Rushing to intercept the call before it went to voicemail,
she answered, “Hey, Remy, everything all right?”

“Care to explain why you’re expecting him to call?” Ethan’s
Bostonian accent was unmistakable. Weirdly, his voice did things to her insides
that should be illegal. Just that one pissed-off question had her pussy
creaming and her panties soaked!

Think, Morgan. Not Remy. Dammit, not Remy at all.

“Ethan?” she squeaked out, squeezing her thighs together
tightly to trap the trickle of moisture that already dampened her silk red and
black panties.

“That’d be me. Obviously, I’ve called at a bad time. Tried
you a few times Saturday and Sunday, but Sam and I were working. Had to switch
housesitting and taking care of customers at Phalen’s tattoo shop with Taran
until I could get back to Salem tonight, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for your job, Ethan. I just didn’t expect
you to call tonight.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because of what happened at the reception with your friends
watching,” she admitted, remembering the look in his eyes, the panic that’d set
in and the fear he couldn’t hide.

“Taran didn’t take a picture of us kissing. He was being an
asshole. Don’t worry. It’s par for the course. He was supposed to tell you that
when he dropped by your apartment. He did check on you, didn’t he?”

“He did. He’s a bit bossy, but basically a sweetheart and
relatively harmless.”

“Don’t let him know that. He likes to think he’s the Romeo
of the Maddox brothers. Not sure how long it’ll be before my partner succumbs
to his charm.”

“I think Samantha’s got his number,” Morgan remarked. She’d
already told Samantha Riley that Taran was her soul mate. Samantha scoffed, but
couldn’t hide the fact that she fancied the youngest Maddox.

Be that as it was, Morgan had way bigger problems with one
of the Maddox men.

Ethan.

“Detective, I really have to go. If you want to talk about
what I saw the other night, call in the morning. Or I’ll call you at the
station or something.”

“No! I called to ask you out.”

“Tonight?” She’d squeaked again. Her heart was pounding so
damn hard she was sure she was going to need to call Dr. Hathaway.

“I’m camping out at my big brother’s house for the next two
weeks, sweetie. I wrapped things up on a case and took some vacation time. I
thought maybe we could go to a movie or get something to eat.”

A heavy knock sounded at the door. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I
simply can’t.”

“Don’t hang up on me, Morgan,” Ethan warned.

“Someone’s at the door.”

The knock became harder. “Morgan, love, open up,” Remy
insisted loudly.

In her ear, Ethan growled menacingly. “What the fuck?
Sinclair’s there? I told you not to see him. You are mine.”

Angry now, Morgan gritted her teeth to keep from telling
Ethan to go to hell. “I don’t belong to any man! Yes, I’ve plans with Remy
tonight.”

“Fine, I’ll leave you to your
date
. One thing, I’m
really sorry about hurting your feelings back in April. I was worried about
you, Cassie and a woman we thought was missing and in danger.”

“For the record, she was missing and she was in danger. I
just didn’t know where she’d hidden and you’d questioned me as if I was the
suspect and doubted my honesty.”

“I didn’t doubt you. You were the closest we had to a
witness. As a cop, I had to ask those questions and remain as neutral as
possible.” Ethan paused as the knock at the door sounded again.

“Ethan, I’m sorry. I have to go.”

“Go. It won’t change how you feel about me. When you’re
ready to stop running scared, give me a shout. I won’t call on you again until
you do. The ball is in your court now. Bye, Morgan.”

The call went dead. Morgan calmly set the phone back onto
its base on the wall.

Rushing to the door, she opened it to find one of the
best-looking men she’d ever had the fortune of seeing. Even though he was not
nearly as handsome as Ethan, Remington Sinclair was six-foot-six of ripped man
with pin-straight black and red hair that fell halfway down his back.

Model gorgeous, his features were sharp, distinct and
perfect for television or the centerfold of
Playgirl
magazine. Already
he had countless followers on Twitter, a Facebook fan page and all the social
networking devices any self-made celebrity could boast. To top off all that
hotness, he had an actual belief in the paranormal.

Though he primarily dated and flirted with women, Remy was
not immune to same-sex relationships. He deliberately kept that to himself,
adding to the public’s speculation as to his sexuality. He also had a degree in
parapsychology, studied world religions, paganism and had a fascination with
illusion.

As was his custom, he wore black leather pants, black combat
boots, a black tee shirt and a black leather jacket. His numerous tats were
black and crimson. Morgan sensed his sexual preferences bordered on the dark
side, same as his brothers.

“I was beginning to think you’d never answer that door. Is
something wrong, love?” he asked, his flirtatiousness harmless and constant. He
called all women love. The only one he didn’t flirt with was the one Morgan
suspected he really wanted.

“Everything’s fine. I thought you were going to call before
getting here.”

“I tried. The phone was busy.”

“A friend called. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. You look fantastic. Those boots are
killer.”

“Thank you. I got these boots from a leather shop in
Danvers. Cassie Maddox gave them to me for being in her wedding. Did you make
reservations at Druid Creek Castle?”

“Sure did,” Remy answered. “Love that place. The activity is
through the roof.”

“I know what you mean. The wedding reception created some
confusion for those souls who call it home, but they seem to like the new
owners more so than the previous ones.”

“Tell me about it at dinner. Right now, you can tell me who
you were talking to on the phone when I arrived. You were talking so loud, I
could hear the panic in your voice.”