Chapter Five
Morgan watched Lance struggle, her heart breaking for him. On one hand, she wanted the closure for him and his mother. On the other, closure had a price. Old wounds would be reopened. The pain would be fresh. But hopefully, short-lived.
Lance turned to Sharp. “I’m kicking myself for not opening the case file when you gave it to me back in September.”
“It was the right decision at the time,” Sharp said. “You didn’t want to dredge up the past when there was little chance you could solve the crime, but now there’s physical evidence.”
And the past was going to be stirred up no matter what Lance did.
He crossed his arms over his chest and stared out over the lake. Morgan followed his gaze for a few seconds. With no visible moon, the water undulated in shades of black in the darkness. She shifted her gaze back to his face, now shuttered.
A short while ago, they’d been embracing, happy and intimate.
Now everything had changed.
“Would you give Morgan a lift back to the office?” Lance asked. “Her minivan is there.”
“Of course,” Sharp said.
“Can you give us a minute, Sharp?” Morgan asked.
“I’ll be in the car.” Sharp walked toward his vehicle, allowing Morgan and Lance a moment of privacy.
She crossed the weeds to stand in front of him and put her hands on his forearms. His muscles were taut, rigid with tension. “How are you doing with this?”
“I don’t know.” He looked over her shoulder. Behind him, the flatbed retreated. Lance blinked, then looked at her. “It feels surreal.”
“I’m sorry this is happening to you.” She slid her hands down to grasp his. “Are you sure you don’t want me or Sharp to go with you to your mom’s house? I know you can handle things alone, but you don’t have to.”
“I’m sure.” Lance’s chest rose and fell with a sigh. “I don’t know how she’s going to react. If I need help, I can call Sharp. He’s already seen her at her worst.”
His words stung, even though she knew she was being overly sensitive. Sharp had been in the Krugers’ lives for decades. Morgan’s relationship with Mrs. Kruger was relatively new. Even though it felt as if Lance was part of her family, Morgan obviously hadn’t reached inclusion status in his.
But she didn’t push. She wouldn’t have survived her husband’s death without the support of her grandfather and sister. But Lance had had no one but Sharp for decades. Lance was more accustomed to being alone.
“I understand.” Or at least, she was trying to. “You’ll call me later?”
“I’ll try. Depends on how she takes the news. I’ll stay with her tonight.”
“Of course you will.” She nodded. “Is there anything I can do?”
He shook his head. “But thanks for asking.”
That sounds so . . . detached.
She squeezed his hands, wanting more of a connection with him. “Call me. It doesn’t matter how late.”
With a nod, he turned back to his Jeep and left.
Morgan walked toward the road where Sharp’s car was parked. Sheriff King stood next to the open door of his county vehicle.
As she passed him, his eyes narrowed.
“I hear you got one of those boys off this afternoon.” His voice was low and deep and disgusted.
Morgan stopped and turned to face him. “Eric was innocent. Doesn’t it bother you that he spent the night in jail for a crime he didn’t commit?”
“Given the video his friends were passing around, I’m sure he’s guilty of something.” The careless lift of the sheriff’s big shoulder said as much as his words. He swept his hat off his head and brushed back his gray-streaked hair. “These entitled kids need to learn that there are consequences for their actions.”
“Eric is hardly entitled, and even if he were, that’s no excuse for putting an innocent kid behind bars.” Morgan inhaled, hoping the damp night air would cool her anger. “Eric has a bruise on his face.”
The sheriff shoved his hat back on his head. “Eric resisted arrest.”
Exactly what Morgan had predicted the sheriff would say. “You could have gotten him killed. Your jail is hardly secure.”
She and the sheriff locked gazes for a few seconds. His eyes narrowed at her reference to the attack on her previous client.
“Jail is a dangerous place,” the sheriff said, his voice grating. “Now your client knows that. Maybe he’ll stick to the straight and narrow.”
“He was already on the straight and narrow,” Morgan shot back. “The legal system assumes innocence until proven guilty. Eric didn’t deserve the bruise on his face either.”
“He shouldn’t have resisted arrest.” The sheriff’s jaw shifted back and forth, as if he were grinding his molars. Morgan turned away. There really wasn’t much else to say. Sheriff King was an old school hard-ass. He saw his job as putting as many people in jail as possible. He was not going to change.
“Tyler Green is out on bail,” he said.
Morgan froze, her palms going cold as she slowly turned back. “Seriously?”
“Yep. He got a new bail hearing.” The sheriff jammed his hat on his head. “I thought you should know, seeing as he threatened to get even with you.”
Two months ago, Sharp Investigations had been hired to find the abusive deadbeat dad. Morgan had been instrumental in getting Tyler arrested. He’d attacked her, and unlike the wife who was too scared to testify against him, Morgan had pressed charges, and he’d gone to jail.
Supposedly.
“I thought he couldn’t make bail.” Morgan rubbed the base of her throat. Though her bruises had healed, she could still feel Tyler’s hands around her neck.
“I don’t know what happened.” The sheriff lifted a shoulder. “I put him in jail. I can’t help it if the system assumes he’s innocent until proven guilty.”
In light of the information he’d given her, she ignored the dig.
“Thank you for telling me about Tyler.” Morgan wasn’t surprised at the courtesy. Sheriff King could be harsh, but his manners were as old-fashioned as his dated approach toward law enforcement.
“You’re welcome. Be careful out there, counselor.” The sheriff got into his vehicle and drove away.
Morgan walked to Sharp’s car. Her skin tingled with nerves, and a headache pulsed behind her ears. She slid into the passenger seat.
Sharp started the engine. “What did the sheriff want?”
Morgan summed up what had happened at the courthouse earlier. “He dressed me down for getting the charges against Eric dropped.”
“He’s a Neanderthal. I wrote Mickey Mouse on my ballot in the last election.”
Morgan stifled a surprised snort. The sheriff had run unopposed.
“He also warned me that Tyler Green is out on bail,” she said.
Sharp turned the car around and headed back toward Scarlet Falls. “Who would post bail for that useless jerk? He’s a flight risk.”
“Maybe the same family members who let him hide from subpoenas in their houses.”
“Good point,” Sharp said. “Are you all right?”
Morgan took a water bottle out of her tote and rolled the tension from her shoulders. “Yes. Lance upgraded our security system, and I’ll tell the family to be extra careful. Hopefully, Tyler will appreciate being out of jail and stay clear of me.”
“I wouldn’t bet on Tyler Green making sensible choices.”
“No. I suppose not.” Morgan rubbed a ragged edge on her fingernail. “But I’m more worried about Lance.”
Sharp nodded. “I know you are. I tried to help him as much as I could, but he learned to handle problems on his own at a very young age. That doesn’t mean it’s what’s best for him or even what he wants. It’s just what he knows.”
And when people were hurting, they retreated to the familiar.
“Thanks, Sharp,” Morgan said. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
She dug a bottle of ibuprofen out of her tote bag. She twisted the cap off the bottle and washed down two tablets.
Sharp frowned. “You shouldn’t take those on an empty stomach.”
Morgan found a candy bar in the bottom of her bag. “I’m not.”
From the look of horror on his face, she could have been holding nuclear waste.
“Put that down.” He opened the center console, pulled out a wrapped bar, and handed it to her. “Eat this instead.”
“What is it?” In the dark, all she could read on the wrapper was the word organic.
“It’s a protein bar. You’ll eat candy, but you’re suspicious of something healthy.” Sharp shook his head. “You’d have more energy if you didn’t eat all that sugar.”
“Probably.” She put the candy back in her bag, opened the protein bar, and took a bite. “It tastes like dust.”
Sharp sighed. “You need the protein.”
As usual, Sharp was right. By the time they reached the office, her headache had subsided. He parked and waited for her to get into her van and lock the doors before he disappeared inside the building.
Morgan drove away from the tiny business district of Scarlet Falls. A few minutes later, a pair of headlights in her rearview mirror caught her attention. The vehicle was too far away to make out the type of vehicle, especially in the dark. She made two turns. The car remained behind her, never getting close enough for her to see it clearly. She stopped at a red light and waited for the car to catch up. But it hung back instead. When the light turned green, she drove through the dark town, suspicion prickling between her shoulder blades.
It was after nine o’clock. Scarlet Falls rolled up the streets and sidewalks at eight.
The headlights were still there when she drove past the country road that led to her grandfather’s house on the Scarlet River. Morgan dug her phone from her tote. She’d call her sister, Stella, a detective with the SFPD, and ask to meet her somewhere. The car behind her was probably a coincidence. Just someone headed in the same direction. But Morgan wasn’t taking any chances.
Not with Tyler on the loose.
She was scrolling for her sister’s number when the headlights disappeared. Morgan blew out a breath.
You’re paranoid.
She turned the car around and went home. But as she climbed out of her minivan, a cold breeze wrapped around her. She shivered, the hairs on the back of her neck rising, as if someone was watching.
She scanned the grass and trees but saw no one. The front yard was lit up like the Meadowlands. There were no big shrubs to hide behind. The dogs were at the window, barking.
She jogged up the front steps and didn’t take a deep breath until she was inside the house. Other than the dogs snuffling around her legs, the house was quiet. The girls would have gone to bed hours ago. Morgan closed and locked the door.
“Hey.” Her sister, Stella, walked out of the kitchen. Stella scanned Morgan’s face. “What’s wrong?”
Morgan told her about Tyler. “I probably imagined feeling someone watching me. The news about Tyler being out of jail has me on edge.”
Snoozer, her French bulldog, begged for attention, but rescue dog Rocket brushed past Morgan’s legs and went to the front window. Her white-and-tan markings and docked tail were bulldog like, but the mutt’s lean body was some other breed altogether. A low growl rumbled from her chest, and the fur on the back of the dog’s neck rose.
“What is it, girl?” Morgan knelt beside the dog and rested a hand on her back. The dog stiffened and barked. Morgan stroked her head.
Stella pulled her cell phone from her pocket. “The dog senses something. I’m going to have a patrol unit check the neighborhood.”
Morgan rubbed the dog’s shoulder. “Good girl.”
Climbing to her feet, she dumped her coat on a chair and went into the kitchen. Both dogs followed at her heels. Her grandfather sat in his wheelchair at the table, a glass of milk and a piece of banana bread on a plate in front of him. His broken leg was encased in a plaster cast and elevated. He was trying to work an unbent wire coat hanger into the top of the cast.
“The doctor said you shouldn’t do that.” Morgan took the hanger. “You could scratch yourself and get an infection.”
“It itches.” Grandpa sulked.
She bent down and kissed his cheek. “I know. And I know you’re bored out of your mind too. Two more weeks. Then the cast comes off, and you can put some weight on that leg.”
Her heart clenched when she thought about how they’d almost lost him during surgery.
“I’ll get through it.” He reached up and patted her arm. “What was up with the dog?”
Morgan repeated her story about Tyler and the car as she opened the fridge and poured a glass of milk. “I’m glad Rocket is here. The alarm system will tell us if someone is breaking into the house, but that dog will let us know if someone is outside thinking about breaking into the house.”
Grandpa tossed the dog a piece of banana bread. She caught it in the air, her big jaws snapping like an alligator’s.
Grandpa frowned. “Damn this leg. I’m not as useful as I could be.”
Morgan smiled. A retired NYPD detective, Grandpa had broken his leg protecting her and her daughter. “You did just fine.”
“Tell me about the rest of your day.”
Morgan started with her afternoon at the courthouse with Eric and moved on to the scene at Grey Lake.
“So you trumped the new ADA, showed up Bryce Walters again, and ratted the sheriff out for coercing confessions from suspects?”
“Yes.” Morgan sipped her milk, suddenly wishing it was wine. “It’s been a full day.”
“Nice way to make friends and influence people.” Grandpa shook his head. “How is Lance?”
“I don’t know.” Morgan checked her phone. “He’s with his mother now.”
“That has to be rough.”
“Yes.”
And he hadn’t called her.
Stella appeared in the doorway. “The patrol unit didn’t find anything. They’re going to do another drive-by later tonight.”
“Thanks,” Morgan said.
“I could stay,” Stella offered.
“You were here all day. Go home to Mac. We have the alarm, the dog, and I’ll break out my handgun tonight.” But as sexist as it felt, Morgan wished Lance was there.
“OK.” Stella took her keys from her pocket. “Mac doesn’t teach any classes tomorrow. He’ll be here at eight to help Grandpa get washed and dressed.”
Morgan took the dogs out with her to walk Stella to her car. The dogs did their business while she watched her sister get into her car and drive away. A police car cruised past, and she went inside. She checked the windows and doors and set the alarm before walking back to her bedroom and opening her gun safe. She took her Glock out and set it high on her armoire.
Then she brushed her teeth, put on her pajamas, and prepared to not sleep. Once again, her family was in danger.