This wasn't the first dead body Morgan Blackmoore had seen, nor was it the most gruesome, but for some reason this body struck ice-cold fear into her heart like none of the others.
It wasn’t the look of terror frozen on the guy’s face, or the giant burn mark on his chest indicating he was probably a victim of some kind of paranormal assassin that had her so frightened.
It was the map clutched in his fisted hand … a map that looked eerily similar to one Morgan and her sisters had received in a mysterious letter from their Aunt Eliza.
Morgan bent at the waist, her sleek, long black hair dangling in front of her as she strained to get a closer look.
Was it the same map?
It looked like it, but she didn’t have the photographic memory her sister Jolene did, so she did the next best thing. She slipped the cell phone out of her pocket and snapped a picture.
As she leaned in, something gooey squished under her boot. Picking her foot up, she recognized it as one of the cone-shaped, black licorice candies they sold in the corner store—a Black Crow.
“Hey, Morgan. Do you mind?” Brody Hunter pulled her attention from the smooshed candy and she straightened to see him standing behind her in his Noquitt police uniform, holding up a section of yellow crime scene tape so that it was high enough for someone to duck underneath. He jerked his head toward the area outside the tape, indicating for her to leave. She took one more quick photo, then slipped under the tape.
“Thanks.” She tweaked his cheek and smiled as he blushed. She’d known Brody most of her life. They'd both grown up in Noquitt and, since he was the younger brother of Morgan's high school boyfriend, she thought of him like family.
Her smile faded as she walked away, glancing down at the photo of the map on her phone. She snugged her black pea coat around her middle to ward off the cool November air but it did little to stop the chill that crept from her spine and encircled her heart.
She glanced back one more time, wondering who, exactly, the body was. She knew that the possession of the map indicated they must have come to her seaside town of Noquitt, Maine, for a specific reason. A specific reason that had gotten them killed.
What she didn’t know was if the dead person was friend or foe … or if the killer was still hanging around town.
Morgan picked up the pace, her breath coming out in small puffs of condensation, her boots making tracks in the light dusting of snow on the ground, as she hurried to her truck.
She wasn’t sure exactly what was going on, but if her theory about the map was correct, things in her little town were about to heat up dramatically despite the late fall New England weather.
She hopped in the truck, turned the engine over and put the truck in gear. She didn’t let it warm up—she needed to get back home with her discovery and warn her sisters.
On the way out of town, the reflection of flashing blue and red lights in her mirror caught her eye. Glancing behind her, she saw them load the body into an ambulance. Her stomach clenched. She had a feeling that might not be the last death this town would see before the year was out.
* * *
Celeste Blackmoore brushed a light dusting of snow off the bench at the edge of the cove. Shoving red leather gloves into her pocket, she sat down and pulled the lobster grilled cheese from its bag, watching a wisp of steam rise in the air.
Settling back on the bench, she closed her eyes and bit into the warm sandwich. It was a favorite of hers and one that she'd only been able to find at Foot Bridge Lobster, a small lobster shack situated in Perkins Cove, which was a short walk from her home.
The sandwich had the perfect combination of taste and texture. Grilled bread gave it a buttery crunch, the cheese added creamy tang and the large lobster claw situated in the middle supplied the perfect amount of sweetness.
Celeste sighed as she settled back on the bench to savor the sandwich. Although it was less than forty degrees out, she didn't mind. Celeste found the cooler weather invigorating and she loved her seaside town even more in the off-season, when it wasn't crowded with tourists.
She chewed happily, looking out over the quaint fishermen's cove. The light dusting of snow would be gone by noon, but right now, it gave the place a holiday feel, amplifying the charm of the old lobster boats moored in the cove.
But not all the boats had charm. Especially not the big, black ship moored in the middle that stuck out like a sore thumb. Celeste stared at the ship, the sandwich paused halfway to her mouth.
When did that get here?
A feeling of uneasiness bloomed in her chest. Noquitt was a popular tourist destination in summer and sometimes people rented mooring space to stay in the cove on their boats, but no one ever did that in winter.
Yet, here was this big, black boat and obviously someone was staying on it. She watched as a figure appeared on the deck. It was two people, actually, one dressed in a Nordic parka and pushing a tiny, white-haired woman bundled in a light-blue blanket in a wheelchair.
Celeste watched as the woman turned her face toward the sun. She looked frail, sickly. The woman reminded Celeste of her mother, who had been held captive by a maniac for the past seven years and drained of almost all her health. Thankfully, her mother was recovering, but Celeste couldn't help but wonder about the woman she was looking at now. Had she suffered a similar fate?
Finishing the rest of her sandwich, Celeste watched as the woman was wheeled back inside and the door to the cabin shut, blocking any view she might have had of what was going on inside. Maybe the woman was just here convalescing and recovering?
Celeste brushed the crumbs from her hand, chastising herself for being so suspicious. She never used to be that way, but the past two years had been crazy for her and her sisters, who'd discovered they'd had special paranormal gifts and then come under attack because of them. She'd learned to pay attention to anything out of the ordinary.
She stood, and with a glance backward at the boat, started for the large house she and her sisters shared with their mother at the mouth of the entrance to the cove. There was no reason to be suspicious of a new boat in the cove, but she'd keep it in the back of her mind. As Celeste had so recently found, it was better to be safe than sorry.
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