Chapter Fifty-Two
The next day, Lance stood on the grass behind Sheriff King’s small hunting cabin. Next to him, Morgan held his hand. The day was bright and clear. The sun shone on the water and warmed the top of his head.
Having done her job and alerted within thirty minutes of being brought to the site, the cadaver dog sat on the sidelines while a state police forensic team dug careful shovelfuls of earth out from under the turf. The hole was three feet deep, and they were still digging.
Morgan had detoured to see the inside of the cabin. She hadn’t seen the sheriff’s body, but the bloodstain on the wall had been enough to convince her that the sheriff was dead.
That it was all over.
Well, almost.
They still didn’t know where Vic was or why he’d been killed.
Morgan shivered and zipped her parka to her chin.
Stella and Brody walked across the grass to join them.
Brody stared out over the lake. “How typical of King to off himself and leave us totally in the dark. No note, no explanation, no nothing.”
“I never would have guessed King was behind everything,” Lance said. “But when I think about it now, it makes complete sense. He had access to all the witnesses. He only killed those who could connect him with Mary. I have to assume Crystal was the person Mary called from the police station that night. So she knew Mary had been arrested.”
“And P. J. knew King had arrested Mary too,” Stella said. “We arranged for a local detective in Florida to interview Owen Walsh. When he arrived, a PI was in the room.” Sharp’s associate. “The PI had already convinced Owen to talk.”
Lance stiffened. His ribs ached. The last missing piece of his puzzle was about to fall into place.
“Owen is dying of stomach cancer. He seemed relieved to confess.” Stella turned to Lance. “Owen confirmed the story the janitor told Sharp about Owen and King beating Lou Ford. Ford died in the back of the sheriff’s station.” She took a breath, giving Lance a second to brace himself. “This part of the story is secondhand. King told Owen what happened when he called from Grey Lake asking Owen to pick him up. King drove Mary out to a rest stop in Scarlet Falls to kill her, but she got away from him. Your dad was driving along the road, saw the girl running, and stopped to help. King killed him, buried him here, then sank the car in the lake with Mary in the trunk. He called Owen to pick him up on the road near Grey Lake, and Owen drove him back to his car at the rest stop.”
So simple. Just a few sentences summed up his father’s death. It didn’t seem right. But all of the pieces fell into place perfectly.
Disbelief and anger did a slow tumble through Lance’s belly. They’d interacted with the sheriff on several cases over the past few months. King had faced Lance over and over with no sign of guilt. What kind of man could do that? A psychopath. No empathy. No remorse. King hadn’t shown any guilt because he hadn’t felt any.
Lance glanced out over the glittering surface of the lake. He was finally getting the closure he’d wanted for decades, but now that he had it, he couldn’t seem to process it.
He pressed his arm against Morgan’s. He had time, and he had her. The rest would work itself out.
Stella turned to Morgan. “You know Tyler Green was never your stalker, right?”
“Yes,” Morgan said. “He was in jail when the photos were left on our neighbor’s porch.”
“You’ll never guess what we found in King’s cabin. A canister of hornet foam spray and an empty gallon container of beef blood. The sheriff made his own blood bait for catfishing. He had a freezer full of it.” Stella shook her head.
“Why would the sheriff slit your tires and pour blood in your car?” Lance asked. “Other than the general knowledge that he was a cold-blooded killer. Everything else that he did had a specific reason, but those acts seem just plain nasty . . . almost vengeful.”
Morgan’s face went grim. “I can only think of one reason. He was angry that I told the DA he coerced a false confession out of Eric.”
“His ego couldn’t take having a woman rat him out,” Lance said.
Morgan shook her head. “Yet he always seemed to almost like me.”
Lance sighed. “King was clearly a psychopath. They mimic the emotions of others. They are very manipulative, charming even.” He thought of the sheriff’s polite act with his mother. “He was displaying the behavior he thought would make him blend in better.”
“That’s exactly how Ted Bundy convinced young women to trust him,” Morgan agreed.
“There’s more,” Stella said. “The hospital security tape shows a big man in jeans and a baseball cap outside your mother’s room, Lance. He kept his face shadowed or turned away from the camera, but it could have been him. And the night she was poisoned in the ICU, we have a video of someone we believe is him disguised as a janitor. He went into the room next to your mom’s and waited for the old man to code. Then during the commotion, it appears that he injected something into the bag of saline outside your mom’s room. He’d been researching your mother’s medication on his home computer. He had access to confiscated heroin and guns.”
The police and forensics units had been busy, but then the SFPD, the state police, and the county resources had all been on the job.
“He planned everything.” Lance felt numb. How could someone kill so many people just to cover up one mistake?
Psychopaths only think of their own needs and how to manipulate others to attain them.
“We found something,” one of the forensic techs yelled.
Lance moved toward the hole, but Morgan held him back with a hand on his elbow.
“Let Stella and Brody go first,” she said. “You might not want to see.”
He smiled at her. “I need to see this the same way you needed to see the inside of King’s cabin.”
Her grip on his arm tightened.
“It’s a skull,” someone shouted.
Lance took one look in the gravesite. The skull stared back at him from the dirt. Grief flooded him. That was his dad in the bottom of that hole. Even from outside the grave, Lance could see the fissure over the brow ridge. Blunt force trauma. King’s baton?
Lance swallowed hard, stood back, and let the team work. He’d waited twenty-three years. What was another couple of hours?
“Let’s sit down.” Morgan tugged him toward a carved-out log bench facing the water.
He let her guide him to the seat.
But he didn’t have to wait that long.
An hour later, Stella walked over with a clear plastic evidence bag. Inside was a man’s silver wedding ring. Stella pointed to the inside of the band.
JENNY & VIC FOREVER.
“Thanks,” Lance said, his voice hoarse.
Stella returned the ring to the forensic team, then walked back toward Morgan and Lance.
The official identification would take time, but Lance knew this was it. He’d found his father. Vic Kruger hadn’t abandoned his family. He’d stopped to help a woman in distress, and he’d been killed for it.
His mother had been right all along. His father had been a good man.
Emotions crowded Lance’s chest. Too many to sort through all at once. His next breath dragged in and out of his lungs, making his ribs ache through the pain medicine.
“How are you?” Morgan took his hand. She was wearing thick gloves, but the grasp of her hand grounded him.
“OK. I knew as soon as we got here that this would be the place.” He turned away from the rippling water.
Morgan’s big blue eyes were filled with concern. “Are you all right?”
“I am.” Under the sadness lurching through his heart, there was a new stillness, as if he was on a turbulent flight that suddenly smoothed out.
Morgan tightened her grip on his hand.
“I have to go see my mother now,” he said.
Jenny had woken that morning, groggy, out-of-sorts, and terrified at being in the hospital. But Lance had gone to the ICU, and she’d calmed down. She was going to be all right, at least physically. Who knew what kind of mental scars the incident would leave? But if there was one thing Lance was learning, it was to handle one disaster at a time. She was going to live. They’d deal with the fallout later.
“I’ll go with you.” Morgan stood. “I know you’re worried about bringing her home, but I want you to accept that I’m here to help. I love your mom.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s what family does.”
He didn’t argue. He wanted her with him. Why he’d ever thought differently was a mystery to him now.
“Brody and I would like to tag along,” Stella said. “We need your mother to answer some questions if she’s up to it.”
“I don’t know how coherent or cooperative she’ll be,” Lance warned, heading toward the Jeep.
“Understood. You tell us what she can tolerate.” Stella waved for Brody, and he strode across the grass toward them. “This scene belongs to the state police. They don’t need us here.”
“I want to stop at my mom’s house and pick up her computer,” Lance said to Morgan. “She’ll feel better if she has something to do.”
They left the crime scene, stopped at Jenny’s, and then drove to the hospital.
To Lance’s surprise, his mother was out of the ICU and in a regular room. Lance walked in first, with Morgan right behind him.
She sat up and reached her hand out for his. Taking it, he sat on the edge of the bed. Morgan stood beside him.
His mom squinted at him. Her eyes were a little bit fuzzy. “What happened to your face?”
She obviously didn’t remember him stopping by that morning. Her voice slurred, as if she were mildly sedated. Probably for the best. She’d experienced enough stress to freak out the most stable person.
“It’s just a few scratches. But I have some news for you.” He told her the basics of what happened with the sheriff, leaving out the details of King’s attempt to kill him and Morgan. She didn’t need to know everything.
“They found Dad.” Lance told her what they’d found at the sheriff’s cabin.
When he’d finished his story, she seemed . . . relieved. “I knew it. I knew he didn’t leave us.”
“You were right.”
His mom sniffed. “Now we can put him to rest properly.”
And carry his memory untainted. Until this moment, Lance hadn’t realized how important it was that his father’s name be cleared.
“How are you doing here?” Lance asked.
His mother’s eyes filled with tears. “I want to go home. The doctor thinks I can go home tomorrow or the next day.” She licked her lips. “I don’t like being here. I want to go home today.”
“I know.” Lance patted her forearm. “Are you up to answering a few questions from the police?”
“I don’t know.” His mom pulled her hand away and picked at a cuticle.
Lance took her hand back, holding it firmly between his own palms. “It’s all right if you’re not ready. The man responsible is dead. Cleaning up the loose ends of the investigation can wait.”
“I can try.” She struggled to sit up. “Would you hand me my water?”
“Sure.” Lance raised the head of the bed and lifted the water cup to his mother’s lips. Then he nodded to Morgan, who went out into the hall, returning a minute later with Stella. Brody hung by the doorway, within earshot, but not crowding Lance’s mother.
Morgan introduced her sister.
“Who visited you the day you got sick?” Stella asked.
“Sheriff King came to ask me more questions about Vic’s disappearance,” Jenny said. “He brought pie, but it wasn’t very good. When he went to the bathroom, I scraped most of it into the trash. I didn’t want to insult him, so I left a few bites to finish when he came out.”
The fact that she’d only eaten a few bites had saved her life.
“He used the bathroom twice in thirty minutes. I thought maybe he was having prostate problems. I had no idea . . .” His mother shivered.
He must have gone into the bathroom to steal her medication. Then again to leave the pill vials in the sink and set the stage for her fake suicide attempt.
“None of us did.” Lance still couldn’t wrap his head around the truth.
“Do you have any idea why Sheriff King might have tried to poison you?” Stella asked.
“No.” His mother shook her head. “But I do remember where I’d seen him before. It wasn’t just on TV. Of course, he looked different. He was much younger back then, which is why I didn’t remember him right away when he came into my house the first time. He was on duty the night Vic went missing. I remember driving past a rest stop when I was out looking for Vic. There were two sheriff’s cars in the lot. I stopped to ask them if they’d seen a Buick Century.”
Lance and Morgan shared a glance.
And the very last piece of the puzzle fell into place.
“Mom, did you mention this to Sheriff King when he came alone to question you?” Lance asked.
She nodded. “I did. He said something about it being a small world.”
And he’d tried to kill her before she could give him away.
Stella asked a few more questions, then bowed out. “Is it OK if I contact you again, Mrs. Kruger? You answered our big question, but I’m sure we’ll have details to iron out as we wrap up the investigation.”
His mom nodded. “I supposed that would be all right.”
“Thank you for your help today.” Stella said goodbye and she and Brody left.
His mom released their hands. “You both look terrible. You should go home and get some rest.”
“Would you like to have a video call with Kevin?” Lance asked.
His mother lifted her chin. Her eyes brightened. “I would love that.”
Lance connected her laptop to the hospital’s Wi-Fi network. Morgan rolled the bedside table over to the bed. A few minutes later, Kevin’s face appeared on the screen.
Jenny smiled.
“We’ll leave you two to talk.” Lance kissed her on the cheek. “I love you, Mom.”
“Love you too.” She smiled at Morgan. “Take care of each other.”
“We will.” Lance followed Morgan out of the room.
That’s exactly what they did best.
Lance stood on the sidelines of the ice arena and watched Eric send a hockey puck into the goal. The buzzer rang and the small crowd cheered.
Next to him, Morgan clapped her hands around Sophie, who sat on her mother’s hip. Ava and Mia stood on the bench so they could see over the wall.
“Did we win?” Sophie kicked Morgan’s sides as if she was riding a pony.
“Yes, we won.” Morgan pointed to the score board. “The blinking number four is Lance’s team.”
“Yay!” Sophie squealed.
The team skated by Lance, pulling off their gloves and high-fiving him as they zoomed past. By the time the last member had slapped his hand, Lance was holding his ribs.
“Lance pwomised to take us on the ice after the game.” Sophie squirmed.
“Oh, honey.” Morgan hugged her daughter. “Lance isn’t quite up to that yet.”
“I can manage,” Lance said, looking mildly offended.
Morgan gave him a look. “The doctor said your ribs would take six weeks to heal. It’s been two days. You shouldn’t even be here.”
“I wasn’t missing this game.” Lance had neglected the kids on his hockey team enough.
After finally learning the truth about his dad, Lance was ready to live. Really live.
One selfish man had changed the course of his life. Lance had lost an entire future with his dad. He’d spent twenty-three years mired in the fallout. Two decades of pain, of doubt, of just being happy to get through the day.
But now that it was over, he realized that life was too precious to waste a minute of it. He had a second chance at happiness with Morgan and her girls. He was grabbing it with both hands and holding on. No more being satisfied with the bare minimum life had to offer.
He had a whole future out there, and it was bright and shiny and new.
“I’ll take her.” Eric handed his gloves and helmet over the wall to Lance and held his hands up.
“Pweeeeeese,” Sophie begged.
“All right.” Morgan carried Sophie to the opening that led onto the ice. Ava and Mia hovered close behind her. The rest of the team crowded around the girls. Eric took Sophie’s hands and let her shuffle across the ice in front of him. The only girl on Lance’s team, Jamie, offered Ava and Mia her hands.
“Not too fast,” Morgan called out.
“They’ll be fine.” Lance leaned on the wall next to her. “They’re barely moving.”
“I know.” But she would still worry. “How do you feel?”
“Very happy to be alive.” He kissed her temple. “And very happy to have you.”
“Are you sure you’ll be all right by yourself tonight?” she asked. She’d stayed at his house the night before.
“Yes,” he said. “Though I’m tempted to say no, just so you’ll spend the night with me.”
She turned. “The girls would be all right with me staying over to take care of you. They were all worried. You’re lucky Sophie isn’t here playing doctor.”
Lance laughed. Pain encircled his ribs. He put a hand on his side. “Her bedside manner needs work.”
Morgan checked her phone. “We should go soon. The girls will be hungry. Come for dinner?”
“I’d like that.”
“My girls love you.”
“I know.” He turned. “I was worried about that for a while.”
“Worried?”
“A relationship with your kids is a whole different kind of responsibility. I didn’t want to disappoint them if my taking care of my mother got in the way. Your girls deserve better.”
“You would never do that.” Morgan took his face in her hands. She kissed his cheek. “And I would never be with a man who wasn’t good for my girls, but I love that you were worried about them. You are a good man, Lance Kruger. I love you, and my kids love you. I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do about it. You’re stuck with all of us, the whole crazy, chaotic bunch.”
He pulled her mouth to his. “I was an idiot to resist.”
“Resistance is futile,” she said against his mouth.
He kissed her. “In that case, I surrender.”
And he did, heart and soul.