Page 42 of Decoding Morse

Attention still focused on our surroundings, he replied, “It was… interesting.”

“I’m gonna need you to elaborate.”

“Well, she accused us of being scammers, salesmen, and finally kidnappers. We had to convince her we weren’t holding you for ransom.”

I chuckled as tidbits of our last conversation finally made sense. “That’s what she thought was happening? When we spoke on that burner phone Tap brought me, she kept asking if I was under duress. God, I love that woman.”

Morse, however, didn’t look amused. “It wasn’t funny.”

I wrestled my laughter under control. “I mean, it’s a little funny.”

The corner of his lips twitched. “She’s a trip, I’ll give you that. She gave me her chess set.”

Certain I must have misheard him, I asked, “Thechess set? The one Henry brought her home from Turkey?”

“The one and only. And as asinine as it sounds, she forced me to take it when I won.”

I knew damn well the lion’s den I’d sent him into, but I played stupid, anyway. This man’s smiles had never come easy, and I was desperate to coax one out of him, if for no other reason than to prove to myself I still could. That life hadn’t completely robbed him of the ability. “Carol is a seventy-four-year-old woman, Morse. How could she possibly force you to do anything? Is she okay? You didn’t hurt her, did you?”

He gaped at me, and I almost lost it.

He must have seen past the cracks in my serious façade because the noise that came from his throat was a cross between a scoff and a chuckle. “You’re fuckin’ with me. Of course you are. You always do. No matter what you’re going through, you always find the humor in it, don’t you?”

“It’s a coping mechanism.”

He grunted. “She called me a pussy for taking it easy on her.”

At that, I burst out laughing.

“Glad you find this so damn humorous.” So did he. I could tell by the way his lips twitched. “She demanded I ‘let an old broad die with dignity,’ leaving me no choice but to compete. When I won and refused to accept the chess set, she threatened to throw it into the fireplace. I called her bluff because she needed help to get out of her chair, but the whiskey she kept spiking her tea with must have given her super strength because—oxygen still attached—she lunged for the board and, honest to God, tried to burn it. I had to take it to keep her from hurting herself or destroying it.”

Still chuckling over the image of him rescuing a chessboard from a little old lady and her fireplace, I said, “Admit it. You like her.”

“That woman isn’t eccentric. She’s batshit crazy.”

“Yep. And generous and wonderful. She’s forced me to accept all kinds of gifts over the years.”

“What do you do with them?”

“I didn’t feel right keeping them, that’s for sure. There’s an empty loft above the garage that she can no longer get into. I hide them there.”

His gaze shot toward me for a split second before it returned to the doors, but not before I caught admiration in his eyes. A woman could get used to being looked at like that.

“Smart. There room for a chess set?” he asked.

“Of course. But I don’t know when I’ll be able to go back to her place.”

He winced, and I instantly regretted my choice of words. He and his club were doing everything they could to keep me safe, and I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful.

I grabbed his hand, trying to ignore the zap of electricity that shot up my arm at the contact. “Thank you.”

Eyeing the spot where my hand covered his, he asked, “For what?”

There were so many things, I wasn’t sure where to start. “For taking Carol breakfast and humoring her. For disguising me and bringing me safely to this appointment. For getting us out of my house before someone broke in.” My voice hitched on that last sentence, but I swallowed and forced my emotions under control.

He nodded and promptly changed the subject but didn’t pull his hand away. “Mrs. Landry’s son kept trying to reach her, but she refused his calls.”

My ears perked up. “That’s… interesting. It’s usually the other way around.”

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