Chester followed her from room to room, confused about why they weren’t home.
She munched on a bowl of cereal and a banana while she finished surfing the internet, catching up on the local news. After finishing, she placed her dishes in the dishwasher and called her pup. “Time to get to work, buddy.”
Reaching Locke Pointe, Morgan assembled her staff for their weekly meeting. As soon as it ended, she tackled the task of taking down the holiday decorations.
Morgan filled several boxes, carried them downstairs and placed them on the shelves. Unlike some of the older Michigan basements, Locke Pointe’s was clean and dry, with no damp odors or concerns about mold and mildew, making it the perfect spot to store her treasured mementos.
She had almost finished when Greg arrived to help her pack up the tree.
“This thing is heavy,” Morgan groaned, struggling to lift her end of the box. “How tall is it?”
“A twelve-footer. Let’s switch sides.” Greg ran around to take the heavier end.
Thank goodness they didn’t have far to go. When they reached the top of the stairs, he came up with the brilliant idea of sliding the box to the bottom. One final turn and they had it safely stored in the corner, right next to the boxes of decorations.
Greg dusted his hands. “It’s hard to believe the holidays are already over.”
“Right? Although I’m looking forward to the new year and new projects.” Morgan led the way upstairs. “I’m not keen on a long, cold winter but it could be worse. Places like the Antarctic come to mind.”
“Uncle Ben called me this morning. He said something about your ex-husband.”
“Jason, my ex, has been released from prison. Without going into detail, let’s just say he has an axe to grind.”
“Against you?”
“Unfortunately.”
“He wants to hurt you?”
“Maybe. I testified at his trial, which helped get him convicted. I’m guessing he’s not too happy with me.”
“You have a gun.”
“I do, although shooting Jason would be a last resort.” Morgan sucked in a breath. “It’s a mess.”
“What does he look like?”
“I have some photos on my phone.” She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and showed him the same picture she’d sent to Denver and Captain Davey. “I doubt he would knock on the door and ask to see me. Breaking and entering would be more his style.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for him.”
“I appreciate it. If you see him, keep in mind he could be armed. The best thing to do would be to call 911.”
“I will, and I hope for your sake it doesn’t happen.”
“Same here.” Morgan returned to the living room to finish straightening up, returning the framed family photographs to the fireplace mantel when the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” she called out. Peeking through the curtain, Morgan noticed a familiar figure standing in front of the door.
She eased it open. “Hello, Grady.”
“Good morning, Morgan. I…uh…was wondering if Greg Baker was around.”
“He is. I believe he’s in the kitchen grabbing a bite to eat.”
“Could I speak with him?”
“Sure.” Morgan turned to go and hesitated, noting the serious tone in his voice. “Is everything all right?”
