Chapter Thirty-Nine
Morgan watched the scene unfold as Sharp’s cell switched over to voice mail. She left a quick message, her attention on Lance, pacing the hallway near his mother’s doorway. Confirmation of the poisoning triggered a quick response both from the investigators and Lance.
The cops switched into high gear.
Tension radiated from Lance like heat from a furnace. His body remained in perpetual motion, as if his emotions were too turbulent for him to keep still.
As if he were barely keeping himself in check.
He was a man of action. His natural inclination was to funnel fear and sadness into a battle plan.
Brody and Stella questioned hospital staff, retrieved the surveillance videos, and called for a forensic team.
Morgan’s phone buzzed. She pulled it from her purse. Her grandfather’s cell number displayed on the screen. A quick burst of nerves scattered her pulse. Grandpa didn’t call her without a good reason. Were the girls OK? She stopped at the end of the corridor and answered the call. “Is everything all right?”
“Everything is fine.” He paused.
Her spine straightened. Something was wrong. “But?”
“I was reviewing Jenny’s e-mails and phone records today. She doesn’t get many calls that aren’t from Lance, you, or Sharp, but yesterday, she received a call from a strange number. I thought it might be a telemarketer, but I thought I’d dig. Took me a while to get the caller’s identity. Things have changed a bit since I ran investigations. You’ll never guess who called Jenny.”
“Who?” Morgan asked.
“Stan Adams.”
Morgan’s mind connected dots.
“I thought you’d want to know right away,” Grandpa said.
“I do.” Morgan told him what had happened to Jenny.
“No.” Grandpa swore, a rare event. “I wish I could be more helpful.”
“You’ve been very helpful.”
“Keep me updated,” Grandpa said. “Love you.”
“Love you back.” Morgan ended the call.
She caught Lance’s gaze.
He strode down the hall. “What is it?”
“That was my grandfather.” Morgan swallowed. “He reviewed your mother’s e-mail and phone records. Someone called her yesterday.”
Lance’s attention sharpened to a knifepoint. “Who?”
“Stan Adams.”
They knew Stan had lied about his whereabouts the night Vic disappeared, but they hadn’t had a chance to question him again.
Lance turned and headed for the door.
Morgan hurried after him. “Where are you going?”
Whatever else happened tonight, she would not let him go off on his own. He was wired.
“To talk to Stan,” he said over his shoulder.
“Stop,” she called.
Lance turned.
“We need to tell Stella and Brody.”
Lance shook his head. “They’ll have to pull their own copy of the phone records, but that will take time, and they’re going to be tied up at this scene all night. It’ll be morning before they’re free to interview Stan.”
“You can’t cut them out of this.”
“No. We’ll message them the information from the Jeep.” Lance pivoted and strode away.
“Don’t you think we should call the sheriff too?” Morgan asked, falling into step with him.
Lance pushed out of the ICU. “No. He’ll just tell us to stay away from Stan.”
Morgan hurried to keep up. “He is going to blow a vein if we don’t share this with him.”
And won’t that make working with him in the future fun.
“Let him stroke out.” Lance stalked to the elevator and stabbed the button. “We’ve played by the rules, and where did that get us?”
“None of that is King’s fault.” Morgan faced him, putting her hands on his shoulders. “This is not a good idea. I know Sheriff King is a pain in the ass, but he’s smart, and he’s been right behind us every step of this investigation.”
“If we involve him, he’ll put us off the case. Considering King doesn’t follow the rule of law, it’s totally hypocritical on his part.”
“Remember last time we kept the sheriff out of our plans? We almost died.” Morgan shivered, thinking about that night in the woods.
“Maybe it would be best if you didn’t come with me.”
His words stung, but she could see the rage pacing through him, as frustrated and pent up as a big cat in a cage.
“I’m coming with you,” Morgan said, afraid he’d leave her behind. God only knew what he’d do without her to temper him. “We are a team.”
Lance met her gaze, his eyes softening for just a second. “OK.”
He jabbed at the elevator button again.
“What about your mother?” she asked.
Lance glanced back at the closed doors of the ICU. “Brody and Stella are here. More cops are coming. She’s as safe as she can be for now. But here’s the thing. Brody and Stella and the forensic team will be at the hospital most of tonight. The hospital environment will create challenges for the investigation and the collection of forensic evidence. The ICU staff won’t allow patient care to be compromised. But as soon as the investigation team leaves, how will anyone protect her? We can’t post a lab outside her door and test every drug she needs right before it’s administered. Whoever is trying to kill her is smart and flexible. He has no MO. He’s killing for self-preservation, and he doesn’t care how he gets the job done or how many people become collateral damage along the way. That old man in the next room did nothing, but I am going to bet that he was murdered just to create a diversion so the killer could get to my mother.”
The elevator doors opened, and Lance stalked inside. Morgan followed him. She briefly considered messaging the sheriff in secret, but loyalty warred with caution. Lance would take it as a betrayal. It would be a betrayal. He was already hurting beyond comprehension. His mother was his only family. How could she ask him to let someone else handle this threat to her life?
Lance was right. The sheriff would order them away from Stan, and Sheriff King was hampered by the law. Which was the same reason Morgan and Lance had ended up in trouble last time. The entire situation felt too much like déjà vu for Morgan’s comfort.
But this time, she would make sure they exercised proper caution. They were both armed, and they weren’t alone in the woods in the dark.
The elevator descended, and the doors opened.
“We’re only going to talk to Stan,” she said as they stepped out.
“Right.”
The cold air hit them halfway across the tiled lobby as the door slid open to admit visitors. They passed a young couple. A colorful bunch of Get Well Soon balloons floated behind them. Outside, the night smelled like snow. Morgan buttoned her coat in a rush. They hustled across the parking lot to the Jeep. Morgan plucked the keys from Lance’s hand. She didn’t trust him behind the wheel, and she wanted some control over their movements. He let her have the keys.
Morgan opened the vehicle door and spoke over the roof. “We have to let Sharp know where we’re going. Someone needs to keep tabs on us.”
“Fair enough.”
“And we will take every other reasonable precaution. One step at a time tonight, OK?” She would ask him to proceed carefully, but she wouldn’t demand he walk away. If it was her family at risk, she would be unstoppable too.
A defeated sigh hissed from him. “OK.”
“We’re not going to do anything dangerous.” But she recognized the words as ridiculous even as they tumbled from her cold lips. “I love you.”
They were on their way to question a potential killer.