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Authors: Frances Stockton
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flames.”
“Trashcan fire,” someone said behind them. Ethan looked
back. Recognizing the fireman’s garb as the chief, he didn’t interrupt. “It was
enough to set off the alarms and sprinkler, but wasn’t a threat to the
building. When the lady can speak, I’d like to ask her why she was smoking when
it’s forbidden.”
“She doesn’t smoke,” Ethan stated.
“Someone did,” the chief replied. “Found a cigarette in the
can.”
“Doesn’t mean she did,” Alex interrupted. “Anyone from the
bar could have gone into the ladies room to smoke. Common problem with a place
like this, I’m just glad the sprinkler system worked the way it’s supposed to.”
“No,” Morgan said so softly only Ethan heard her. She
struggled to remove the mask, managing only to move it slightly to the side.
“Easy,” Ethan murmured, staying very close.
“Tried to kill me,” she whispered.
“Who tried to kill you?” Thinking she was confused, Ethan
drew back to study her face. Despite the oxygen mask and the blood, she was the
most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
“Jenna’s killer,” she maintained, opening her eyes only to
squeeze them shut and speaking so softly the sound barely registered. As it
was, Ethan had to lean very close to hear her. “I didn’t start the fire. I
think he did it. She must have told him about our conversation in the ladies
room.”
“You’re not making any sense, Morgan. Settle back down,
please.” She grumbled, tossing her head. Ethan and the EMT gently urged her to
stay still and let the oxygen do its thing.
After a few minutes, she calmed down and no longer seemed
distressed. When she breathed evenly, she shifted her face enough to speak to
Ethan exclusively.
“Please believe me, Ethan, you have to help Jenna. I have
proof if you need it!” With strength that took him by surprise, she shot
upward. “My recorder! Where’s Remy?”
“I’m here, love,” Remy answered. “I’m listening, but you
need to listen to the EMT there, okay?”
Ethan lifted his eyes. “Call her love again, I will not be
responsible for what happens to you, got it?”
“Sorry, man,” Remy apologized.
“Remy, get my voice recorder,” Morgan insisted, loud enough
to make herself heard over the plastic mask muffling sound.
“Where is it, Morgan?”
“Restroom,” she answered.
Remy stood up. The fire chief stepped in front of him.
“Sorry, can’t let you go in there. Fire inspector can take a look when he gets
here. Only thing I found in there was a cellphone on the floor where the lady
was found. She’s real lucky the smoke was minor and the fire doused quickly.”
“I need my recorder. EVPs are on it,” Morgan insisted.
Opening her eyes again, she grabbed Ethan’s arm. It must have hurt for her to
do it, but she gripped so hard she left a mark. “Find it, Ethan. Jenna spoke to
me.”
“Jenna who?”
“Bailey, she doesn’t like being called Jennifer,” Morgan
answered, being careful to confide only in him. “Erica White was right.
Terrence Mills didn’t kill her.”
“Honey, what you’re saying’s impossible,” Ethan said,
confused and unaware that he’d spoken louder than he’d intended. “How can you
even know about Erica White or Terrence Mills?”
“I may be of help, Chief Winslow, Detective Maddox,” a woman
said, interrupting Morgan before she could speak again.
Ethan looked up to see Alisa Bailey standing with the fire
chief. As beautiful as ever, Alisa looked terribly sad.
He didn’t blame her. A parent shouldn’t have to bury her
only child. Knowing Terrence Mills had gotten a hold of Jennifer Bailey in
order to sell her at auction to become some fucker’s sex slave still made Ethan
sick to his stomach.
Seven other teenaged girls who’d been reported missing or
ran away from broken homes were found with Jennifer. All lured by the promise
of a boy they’d met on the internet, one who gained their confidence. All
executed and torched because
“Trashcan fire,” someone said behind them. Ethan looked
back. Recognizing the fireman’s garb as the chief, he didn’t interrupt. “It was
enough to set off the alarms and sprinkler, but wasn’t a threat to the
building. When the lady can speak, I’d like to ask her why she was smoking when
it’s forbidden.”
“She doesn’t smoke,” Ethan stated.
“Someone did,” the chief replied. “Found a cigarette in the
can.”
“Doesn’t mean she did,” Alex interrupted. “Anyone from the
bar could have gone into the ladies room to smoke. Common problem with a place
like this, I’m just glad the sprinkler system worked the way it’s supposed to.”
“No,” Morgan said so softly only Ethan heard her. She
struggled to remove the mask, managing only to move it slightly to the side.
“Easy,” Ethan murmured, staying very close.
“Tried to kill me,” she whispered.
“Who tried to kill you?” Thinking she was confused, Ethan
drew back to study her face. Despite the oxygen mask and the blood, she was the
most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
“Jenna’s killer,” she maintained, opening her eyes only to
squeeze them shut and speaking so softly the sound barely registered. As it
was, Ethan had to lean very close to hear her. “I didn’t start the fire. I
think he did it. She must have told him about our conversation in the ladies
room.”
“You’re not making any sense, Morgan. Settle back down,
please.” She grumbled, tossing her head. Ethan and the EMT gently urged her to
stay still and let the oxygen do its thing.
After a few minutes, she calmed down and no longer seemed
distressed. When she breathed evenly, she shifted her face enough to speak to
Ethan exclusively.
“Please believe me, Ethan, you have to help Jenna. I have
proof if you need it!” With strength that took him by surprise, she shot
upward. “My recorder! Where’s Remy?”
“I’m here, love,” Remy answered. “I’m listening, but you
need to listen to the EMT there, okay?”
Ethan lifted his eyes. “Call her love again, I will not be
responsible for what happens to you, got it?”
“Sorry, man,” Remy apologized.
“Remy, get my voice recorder,” Morgan insisted, loud enough
to make herself heard over the plastic mask muffling sound.
“Where is it, Morgan?”
“Restroom,” she answered.
Remy stood up. The fire chief stepped in front of him.
“Sorry, can’t let you go in there. Fire inspector can take a look when he gets
here. Only thing I found in there was a cellphone on the floor where the lady
was found. She’s real lucky the smoke was minor and the fire doused quickly.”
“I need my recorder. EVPs are on it,” Morgan insisted.
Opening her eyes again, she grabbed Ethan’s arm. It must have hurt for her to
do it, but she gripped so hard she left a mark. “Find it, Ethan. Jenna spoke to
me.”
“Jenna who?”
“Bailey, she doesn’t like being called Jennifer,” Morgan
answered, being careful to confide only in him. “Erica White was right.
Terrence Mills didn’t kill her.”
“Honey, what you’re saying’s impossible,” Ethan said,
confused and unaware that he’d spoken louder than he’d intended. “How can you
even know about Erica White or Terrence Mills?”
“I may be of help, Chief Winslow, Detective Maddox,” a woman
said, interrupting Morgan before she could speak again.
Ethan looked up to see Alisa Bailey standing with the fire
chief. As beautiful as ever, Alisa looked terribly sad.
He didn’t blame her. A parent shouldn’t have to bury her
only child. Knowing Terrence Mills had gotten a hold of Jennifer Bailey in
order to sell her at auction to become some fucker’s sex slave still made Ethan
sick to his stomach.
Seven other teenaged girls who’d been reported missing or
ran away from broken homes were found with Jennifer. All lured by the promise
of a boy they’d met on the internet, one who gained their confidence. All
executed and torched because
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