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he had countless followers on Twitter, a Facebook fan page and all the social
networking devices any self-made celebrity could boast. To top off all that
hotness, he had an actual belief in the paranormal.
    Though he primarily dated and flirted with women, Remy was
not immune to same-sex relationships. He deliberately kept that to himself,
adding to the public’s speculation as to his sexuality. He also had a degree in
parapsychology, studied world religions, paganism and had a fascination with
illusion.
    As was his custom, he wore black leather pants, black combat
boots, a black tee shirt and a black leather jacket. His numerous tats were
black and crimson. Morgan sensed his sexual preferences bordered on the dark
side, same as his brothers.
    “I was beginning to think you’d never answer that door. Is
something wrong, love?” he asked, his flirtatiousness harmless and constant. He
called all women love. The only one he didn’t flirt with was the one Morgan
suspected he really wanted.
    “Everything’s fine. I thought you were going to call before
getting here.”
    “I tried. The phone was busy.”
    “A friend called. I’m sorry.”
    “Don’t apologize. You look fantastic. Those boots are
killer.”
    “Thank you. I got these boots from a leather shop in
Danvers. Cassie Maddox gave them to me for being in her wedding. Did you make
reservations at Druid Creek Castle?”
    “Sure did,” Remy answered. “Love that place. The activity is
through the roof.”
    “I know what you mean. The wedding reception created some
confusion for those souls who call it home, but they seem to like the new
owners more so than the previous ones.”
    “Tell me about it at dinner. Right now, you can tell me who
you were talking to on the phone when I arrived. You were talking so loud, I
could hear the panic in your voice.”
    “I wasn’t panicked,” she denied.
    Remy shook his head, studying her silently for a minute. He
hailed from Lexington, Massachusetts, originally and spent most of his life in
and around New England. His family tree dated back to Colonial times, with part
of his bloodline being Wampanoag.
    He was really very fascinating, so why was it so difficult
for Morgan to look forward to an evening that didn’t revolve around Ethan?
Simple, because Remy wasn’t Ethan and no one could replace the detective in her
heart.
    “You know, I’m thinking you were talking to the best man,”
Remy said. “Don’t try to tell me that you didn’t disappear with him at the
reception. I saw your mouth when you came inside. It was swollen the way a
woman’s mouth should be when a man kisses her right.”
    Flushing more from the memory of the kisses she’d shared
with Ethan, Morgan shook her head. Only Remy could speak his mind and not cause
her to hide behind her hair.
    “I told you what happened in the parking lot. I freaked him
out when I saw that girl in the doorway. I told you that too.”
    “He may have been a little taken aback by what happened, but
I saw him when he came in looking for you. He was worried about you.”
    “So you said, Remy. Why are we talking about this tonight
anyway? This is a business date, after all.”
    “Because he’s the man you want. I won’t be offended if you
don’t want to go out. We can talk about the show anytime.”
    “I’ll be offended if you back out. Being a consultant for
your team means a lot to me. I want to understand my role better and be a part
of something that could get you and your team national recognition.”
    “Let’s go then.” Remy waited for her to get her black pea
coat, purse, cellphone and digital voice recorder, which she placed in the
handbag.
    Small though the device was, she used it to capture EVPs, or
electronic voice phenomena, upon Remy’s advice. Most of the ghost hunting
gadgets and supplies sold out of her store came from his supply source.
    If there was a chance for her and Remy to go to the
basement, they could do an EVP session and