Taming the Carefree Billionaire - Marie Higgins Page 0,71

have done since you’re friends with Thomas, too.”

Lifting her nose, Joslyn shrugged nonchalantly, walked to her desk, and sat.

Morgan returned to her desk and opened her email. Thomas had already sent her the files. Her heartbeat quickened and she opened them. With any luck, she would see something out of the ordinary to help solve the case.

He’d sent her photos of the areas around the field where people could stand at the gate to watch. Each picture had a time stamped in the top left corner for her to see how each camera progressed along with the fire. From the moment the fire started, it took approximately ten minutes for a crowd to gather. That was about the time when Morgan and Thomas had reached the field – give or take two or three minutes.

She zoomed in on the people standing around, watching in horror as their favorite wine company’s vines went up in flames. So far, she hadn’t seen anyone who had been in her photos of the other fires in the area. Finally, almost twenty minutes into the fire, Morgan found Joslyn.

Her heartbeat quickened as she zoomed in a little closer until... Morgan held her breath as her stomach twisted. Joslyn was not wearing the jacket! Why had she lied?

Morgan clicked past several more pictures until she found the one where Joslyn was trying to ask Thomas those ridiculous questions – right before Morgan drove her and Thomas away in his Ferrari. Just as before, Joslyn was not wearing the beaded jacket.

An ache settled in Morgan’s chest, making it difficult to breathe properly. There could be only two reasons Joslyn would lie to her about the jacket. One – because the snooty reporter didn’t want a tomboy wearing her expensive beaded jacket. And two – because Joslyn didn’t want Morgan to know that she’d been the one setting the fire.

She might not have her hands on the actual garment in question, but she was sure that Thomas could get a police investigator to issue a warrant to have the police search Joslyn’s apartment for the jacket in hopes of finding one of the beads missing. Not to mention, there was a certain high-heeled shoe print that Thomas had found that need to be further investigated.

With a sorrowful heart, she finished skimming through the rest of the pictures. Why would Joslyn jeopardize her job and reputation in this way? The blonde reporter would have had to know that people go to prison for arson.

Something on one of the pictures caught her attention, and she zoomed closer. This footage was shot about five minutes after Thomas and Morgan had left. Joslyn stood next to a man as they leaned against a two-seater Ford Silver Spruce truck... the same truck Morgan had followed from the Country Club right after meeting Garth Sorenson.

In fact... Morgan tried to zoom in on the man standing beside Joslyn with his arm around her waist... Morgan gasped. Garth! She needed to find some proof before he – and Joslyn – caused any more fires.

TWENTY-FIVE

Thomas walked outside in the burned fields with the fire inspector. Thankfully, the man had conducted a more thorough search into the exact way the fire had started. Inspector Todd led the way and stopped near the shed, pointing to the ground.

“The fire was actually started in two different places. One was here, and one was inside the shed.” The, slender man in his late forties, rubbed his chin. “We found the remains of a baseball bat right here. What I think is that the person who started the fire was the one who hit your father in the head with the bat.”

Confusion filled him as he shook his head. “But why? Everyone likes my father.”

The inspector shrugged. “Unless your father caught the person off guard.” The man paused and glanced toward the remnants of the burned shed. “Or, unless there was something inside that shed that the person was originally after.”

Groaning, Thomas raked his fingers through his hair. It had to be Garth! That fool had been after the ingredients to the Powers’ specialty wines. “Yes. This was where we grafted the vines to create our world-famous wines.”

The fire inspector frowned. “I’m sorry they were all burned.”

“Thanks, but I can grow them back. My father taught me well.”

The man nodded and walked over to another section not far from where the fire started. “I also believe,” he said stopping, pointing to the ground, “that both fires were started with the help of