Page 3 of Easton Island

Ronni shook her head. “Nope. He told me to pack warm clothes along with some lighter stuff and bug spray.”

Morgan grinned. “Bug spray? Are you going camping?”

“I hope not. I’m more of a glamping kinda girl.”

“You and me both. I mean, I would try camping, but to be honest, I prefer my creature comforts.”

“Same here.”

Tina, the bed-and-breakfast’s cook, appeared in the doorway. “Jax is here.”

“Oh, good.” Ronni snatched her purse off the desk. “I’ll text you a picture to let you know where we end up.”

Morgan trailed behind, following her friend down the hall to the front entrance where Jax, Easton Estate’s handyman/caretaker, stood waiting.

“Is this your bag?” He tapped the top of the handle. “I thought there would be more.”

Ronni’s brows furrowed. “Did I underpack?” She rattled off a list of items that were inside.

“It should be okay. We’ll only be gone for a couple of days. Storage space is tight on those island hopper planes, so it’s probably better to pack light.” Jax steered the carry-on to the door and stepped over the threshold.

“Have fun,” Morgan said. “Don’t forget to send me a pic when you get a chance.”

“Will do,” Ronni called over her shoulder, following the man who had, for decades, been her archenemy until last fall when both finally came to their senses, admitted they were attracted to each other, and started dating.

Morgan had been mildly disappointed when Ronni’s birthday had come and gone and no marriage proposal had been forthcoming. She reminded herself it had taken eons for them to admit their feelings for each other. It could be another lifetime before the two were ready to tie the knot.

Either way, she was thrilled to see their relationship thriving, not unlike her relationship with Wyatt Dawson, her handsome, hunky boyfriend.

Returning to her office, Morgan clicked out of the school’s roster and clicked on a saved site tab, one she checked every single day after finding out her ex-husband, Jason, had been released from prison.

Fed up with worrying and constantly looking over her shoulder, Morgan had hired an investigator from Florida who offered to keep an eye on Jason for a reasonable fee, to confirm he was still over a thousand miles away.

The new report sat in her mailbox. Morgan opened the message, letting out a sigh of relief when he let her know Jason was still in Fort Myers. She started to delete it when she noticed he’d included an attachment.

Curious to find out what it was, she clicked on the link. There, as plain as day, was her ex-husband, standing next to a private plane, a two-seater from what she could tell, talking to a man. She zoomed in on the hangar’s sign in the background, Coastal Aviation.

Morgan promptly dialed the investigator’s number.

“Hello, Morgan.”

“Hey, Ted. I got your email. Thanks for checking in.”

“Did you open the attachment?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I happened to catch Mr. Greer leaving his apartment and decided to follow him. This is where he ended up.”

“At Coastal Aviation.”

“In Fort Myers. He and the man he was talking to climbed into the plane. They sat there for a while so I finally left.”

Morgan’s heart hammered in her chest. “Was he flying or riding?”

“I couldn’t tell. I thought you would be interested.”

“Very. Thank you. Do I owe you extra?”

“Nah. It wasn’t out of my way. I guess the PI in me was curious.”

“Well, I appreciate it.” Morgan thanked him again. As soon as she hung up, she scrolled through her contact list and dialed a second number.