A Shadow on the Ground (22 page)

Morgan stared at her brother. She hardly recognized him. The sweet, soft-spoken guy who couldn't bring himself to raise his voice to one of Opal's unruly dogs was gone. In his place stood a man with a steadfast code of ethics and a set of sinewy muscles straining against his T-shirt sleeves to back them up. Sean pulled himself to his full height and towered over the three astonished men like a warrior set in stone. His gaze held Bert’s, razor-sharp and unwavering. Meek, peace loving Sean Maguire had become a force to be reckoned with. And everyone in the orchard that day knew it.

He glanced at Morgan. “You can go on up to the house, sis. These three scumbags are leaving.” He stomped his foot as if he were shooing raccoons off the porch.
“Now.”

****

Gage sat at the table with his head in his hands. He tried to rein in his temper and ignore the banging and cursing in the next room. He wasn't sure what Jeremy was doing, but it was a safe bet the closet door would never be the same. He opened his mouth to yell for him to stop, then closed it again. Why add fuel to the fire? The boy had every right to express his anger. Gage had deprived him of everything he loved—his home, his friends, his uncle, his mother.

Another loud
thud
, then a
crash
reverberated from the bedroom. Probably Jeremy’s school backpack slamming against the bedside table. Gage should devise a point system. Two points for correctly identifying the thing being thrown. Five for identifying the target.

A knock on the door brought Gage to his feet.

Morgan stood on the tiny porch with her arms crossed over her chest. “What's going on? I can hear that racket clear across the yard.”

“Jeremy's still upset,” Gage said. “He's blowing off a little steam.”

“Yeah, well, we're all upset. But we're not all acting like three-year-olds.”

“I didn't want to make things worse. I don’t know what to say to him.”

“Mind if I try?”

“Sure.” He swept his hand toward the bedroom. “Have at it.”

Morgan walked inside. She rapped hard on Jeremy's door. “Jeremy, honey, it's Morgan.
Cut it out!
”

The banging stopped abruptly.

“Gee, why didn't I think of that?” Gage said.

“Because you're too busy blaming yourself, and it's time you—”

“Cut it out?”

“Exactly. By the way, your uncle left. I don't think he'll be back anytime soon. I’m not inviting him for Christmas dinner.”

“You can see why he's the last person I’d want to take a handout from. I’d convinced myself that moving in with him was the best thing for Jeremy.” He looked at her helplessly. “But I don’t know what’s best for Jeremy anymore. He’s so angry.”

“That will pass. You just have to be patient.”

“Everything comes with a catch, doesn’t it?”

“Only the good things.” She sighed. “I finished listening to the voicemails Peach left on Harlan’s phone. Unbelievable.”

“That girl’s a piece of work.”

“She’s a piece of something. Gage, there’s something I need to say.”

He looked at her expectantly. “Okay.”

“Let's get some air.” Gage followed her outside and sat beside her on the low porch stoop. “If you don’t like what I’m about to say, then...don’t like it. But I believe part of Jeremy’s problem—a huge part, actually—is the fact that he doesn’t have closure for his mother’s death. He can’t begin to heal or move on with his life until you help him find it.”

“How do you give a child his age closure? It’s not like he has a full life to get back to.”

“But he does.” She picked up a yellow birch leaf and started shredding it. “Where is she? Where is Suzanne?”

“Her ashes are at her parents’ house in Atlanta. Why?”

“Because Jeremy doesn’t know that. He doesn’t know where his mother is. He didn’t get to say goodbye to her, and no one’s told him anything. It’s left him heartbroken and adrift. To him, she grabbed the car keys, ran out the door, and never came back. Part of him believes she might still be out there somewhere, and we both know, she’s not. Jeremy needs resolution.”

“I’ll fix it,” he said hoarsely. “I’ll take him to scatter her ashes somewhere. We’ll do something special in her honor. I’ll help him say goodbye.” He reached out and took Morgan’s hand. “Thank you.” He brought it to his lips. When he looked at her, his eyes blurred with tears. “So many good things have happened to me and my son since I met you again. Jeremy has turned a full one-eighty, something I thought would take months of therapy to accomplish. And it’s all because of you. No matter what happens, I’ll never forget what you’ve done for us.”

He slid his arm around her and pulled her to him. Her head nestled into the crook of his shoulder. She seemed to melt into him. He hadn’t felt this happy since the day Jeremy was born. Or safe. Was it weird to think a woman he’d only spent a total of four days with had the power to make him feel safe? Where would he ever find that again?

Time was running out.

He had to tell her about the flag. The longer he waited, the worse his chances were of making her understand he never meant to hurt her. Not then. Not now. He had to find a way to tell her the truth without destroying the future they might have together. If that was even possible. And he had to do it soon.

The door opened, and Jeremy came out. “Sorry, Morgan. Sorry, Dad.”

Morgan moved away from Gage. She motioned for Jeremy to sit between them. “You know, kid, I’ve always believed people are who they are, and no matter how hard you try, you can't change them. But if they can't always be the people you want them to be, it doesn't mean you love them any less.”

“Uncle Bert should say he's sorry,” Jeremy said. “And mean it.”

“I know,” Gage said gently. “Maybe he will one day.”

Sean roared up the hill in his Jeep. He swung out of the seat, strode across the yard, and handed Morgan his cell phone. “Here. Of course, I can get a signal when the Wicked Witch of the South calls. And you’re the only one who’s had enough sleep to deal with her.”

Morgan sighed. “Opal.” She took the phone. “Morgan here.”

“I don’t know what to do!” Opal wailed. “I’ve been assaulted! Should I call the sheriff?”

“
What?
Who?”

“Denny Quillen. That horrible man you were married to. He hurt my wrists. Oh, Morgan, please come help me. They look terrible. They’re already turning blue. I wanted to wear my blue chiffon dress to Harlan’s funeral, but now, I just don’t know. The blues might clash.”

“On my way.” Morgan snapped the phone closed. “Denny paid Opal a visit.”

“I’m going with you,” Gage said.

“I hear you’re pretty good with computers,” Sean said to Jeremy. “Is that true?”

“I know my grades two minutes after the teacher enters them.” Jeremy shot a quick look at Gage. “Not that I’d ever change them or anything. I mean, I guess I could, but—”

Sean laughed. “I don’t want you to change my grades, I want you to help me find some files I’m not sure even exist.”

“
Yeah,”
Jeremy said. “Can I stay here, Dad? And help Sean?”

“You sure you’re okay with this?” Sean asked Gage. “If unwanted visitors show up, I’ll call the sheriff. But I don’t think there’ll be any more trouble today.”

“I hope you’re right. It’s just—”

“I’ll keep a close eye on him,” Sean said.

“Okay, then,” Gage said. “You guys be careful.”

Sean tossed his keys to Morgan. “Take the Jeep. It’ll get you over the mountain faster than the truck. And do yourselves a favor. After the two of you check on Opal, go to dinner. Get away from this farm for a while. I'll pick up some burgers and sugar for the apples, then after we eat, Jeremy can help me fire up the outside kettle. I think I have enough propane.”

“You're going to start a batch now?” Morgan asked. “It takes five hours to cook apple butter. By the time the apples boil, it'll take you all night.”

“I read where you drop a silver dollar in the kettle to keep the apples from sticking,” Jeremy said. “Is that true?”

“Absolutely,” Sean said. “The Harvest Festival is two weeks away, and I want to have something to sell. Two nights on a cement mattress without sleep reset my body clock. If I'm gonna be awake anyway, I might as well be doing something productive.”

And as long as Sean’s awake
, Gage thought.
He’ll be standing guard over my son.

“I...I wanted to tell you how sorry I am about Harlan,” Gage said.

“Thanks,” Sean said.

“After Morgan and I make sure Opal’s all right, I think we should go to the Spannagel's house and ask Ethan for the accounting files. Finch said Harlan was working for Bert, and you need to see those files in hand as soon as possible. Before they're compromised.”

“I'm not sure I believe Finch was telling the truth,” Sean said.

“Still,” Gage said, “you should know what you're dealing with. If Harlan was embezzling from Maguire Orchard, and you can prove it, you can prosecute Harlan's estate and demand restitution. The court would freeze the estate until the heirs are able to pay you back.”

“You mean Ethan,” Morgan said. “He's the only heir.”

“You know what's been bothering me?” Sean said. “The accounting files were in folders sitting on Harlan's dining room table in full view of anyone who walked by. He liked to work from printouts, said it helped him see the big picture. But Ethan had been living at his dad’s house for over a week. He had to have seen them.”

“Oh, I’m sure he saw them,” Morgan said. “But he would never mention it. Appearances are everything to Ethan. His father was a well-respected man in this community. If Ethan knew what Harlan had been hired to do by Bert, he would take every precaution he could to hide it.”

“I wonder how much Bert really knew about this,” Gage said.

“And Finch,” Morgan said. “And Mendoza. Sean met them on the road after he left Harlan, driving toward Harlan’s house.”

“They weren’t driving,” Sean said. “They were flying.”

“Maybe I’m wrong,” Morgan said. “Maybe Ethan didn't notice the files. I don't pay any attention to the files in Sean's office.”

Gage cocked one eyebrow. “This is different. This is your orchard. I think Ethan would keep tabs on anything that belonged to you. If he was aware of what was going on, he wouldn’t have wanted you to find out because it would blow his chances with you. That man is more into you than you realize.”

Morgan glanced at her watch. “Ethan’s meeting the pastor at the church at three. If we hurry, we'll have enough time to check on Opal then get to the Spannagel's house.”

“But Ethan would be gone by then,” Sean said.

“I think that's the idea,” Gage said.

“Don’t look so worried, little brother. Gage is an ex-PI. I’m in good hands. Let me grab my purse, and we’ll go.”

Gage turned to Sean. “I guess it’s time to get back on the horse. God, I love PI work. I can already feel the adrenaline beginning to shoot through me. I’m used to going it alone, though.”

“Then convince my sister that breaking into Ethan’s house is too dangerous.”

“It was her idea.” Gage smiled appreciatively as Morgan climbed into the Jeep. “She’s not boring, is she?”

“No, she’s not.”

“She has guts.”

“And you hate gutsy women, right?”

Gage grinned. “Only if they clean fish for a living.”

Chapter 14

The last thing Morgan expected to see in Opal’s kitchen was Peach standing at the sink, wringing out a washcloth.

Morgan set her purse on the counter. “What are you doing here?”

“I was visiting Edith Duncan down the hall—she used to be one of my patients at the nursing home—and on my way out, I heard someone crying in here. I knocked on the door, and it was Opal.” Peach opened the freezer and took out two ice cubes. She wrapped them in the washcloth. “This is for her bruised wrists. Vinegar helps, too, but I couldn’t find any.”

“Opal doesn’t cook,” Morgan said. “She heats up.”

“What are you two talking about out there?” Opal hollered. “I can’t hear you!”

“Nothing.” Morgan lowered her voice. “She said Denny grabbed her. Did you see him?”

Peach’s blue eyes widened. “No, but I’m sure he didn’t mean to hurt her. She’s taking a blood thinner—warfarin. You can breathe on her wrists, and they’ll bruise.”

“I didn’t know she was on warfarin. Is everybody on warfarin?”

“Everybody over seventy. Half the people at the nursing home take it. I found it in her medicine cabinet when I was looking for an icepack. She said she’d had a mini-stroke after your grandpa died, and she didn’t want anyone to know.”

“That’s not like her,” Morgan said. “If anything’s wrong, Opal blabs it to the world.”

Gage stuck his head around the door. “Everything okay? I hear major whispering.”

“Opal’s on a blood thinner,” Morgan said. “Just like Harlan. Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Not if she’s monitored by a doctor,” Peach said. “A lot of things can affect her Pro Time.”

“Her what?”

“Prothrombin Time. It’s a blood test to measure how fast the blood clots.”

“What can affect it?” Gage asked.

“Diet,” Peach said. “Foods with large amounts of Vitamin K in them like spinach, broccoli, parsley, collards. All those will thicken the blood. Certain OTC supplements like fish oil and Vitamin E can thin it. So can aspirin.”

Gage leaned against the windowsill. “So, if a person took too many blood-thinning supplements, it could cause them to hemorrhage spontaneously?”

“Oh, sure,” Peach said. “If they were on a high enough dosage, over time, it could do a lot of damage. They could be fine one minute, then start bleeding out the next.”

“Morgan!” Opal trilled from the living room. “Peach! What’s going on in there?”

“I’ll get this.” Gage took the makeshift icepacks from Peach.

“Hold them on her wrists,” Peach said. “She’ll be fine.”

After Gage left, Morgan said, “Damn that Denny! What’s the matter with him? Scaring an old woman. I should have him arrested for assault.”

“Why are you always so hard on him?” Peach rinsed her hands and pulled a paper towel from the dispenser. “He’s not doing drugs. He’s almost stopped drinking. He’s trying to turn his life around. He wants to sell the flag you’re keeping for him so he can put a down payment on a house.” She clutched the wet paper towel in front of her like a bouquet. Her eyes shone. “Oh, Morgan, it’s the most beautiful place. He showed me a picture of it—a little one-story ranch, right on the golf course. He said he’s gonna take me there sometime and we’ll—”