A sixteen-year-old did not have the authority to refuse a court order, and the custodial parent was obligated to foster a relationship between the child and the noncustodial parent. A strained relationship was not enough justification to refuse visitation. Generally, the court’s opinion was that the relationship could not improve if the child and parent did not see each other, and that it was in the best interest of the child to know both his parents. Since the visitation was community supervised, in a public place, Tina could not argue that Evan was in any physical danger. In short, she had no grounds to petition the court. Judges did not like to terminate parental rights.
“But to your knowledge, your ex-husband never communicated directly with Paul,” the sheriff clarified.
Tina shook her head. “Not that I know of. Kirk called me or texted Evan if he needed to cancel.”
“Do you think Evan might go to his father for help?” the sheriff asked.
“I doubt it,” Tina said.
“We’ll pay him a visit anyway. Can I have your ex’s full name and contact information?” The sheriff clicked his pen over a tiny notepad.
“Kirk Meade.” Tina also provided a phone number and the address of the group home.
“Thank you, Mrs. Knox.” The sheriff stuffed his notepad into his pocket, rose, and walked out the door.
Morgan followed him into the hall. “Are you looking at Paul’s phone records too?”
“We’re looking at everything.” Sheriff Colgate pointed at Morgan. “I know Kruger wants to find the boy, but you will stay away from the murder investigation. Paul was one of ours. We do not need you and your partners muddying up this case.”
Morgan met his gaze without yielding. The sheriff blinked away. He had been the one who’d muddied the last case they’d simultaneously worked, and he knew it. He’d followed the physical evidence to a suspect and had been unwilling to accept any other theories.
“Mrs. Knox will need a place to stay.” Morgan did not want Tina alone in the house where her husband had been murdered. Also, since the sheriff personally knew the victim, he would be in no rush to release the scene.
“It would probably be best if she stayed with family or friends,” the sheriff agreed.
“She’ll need to pack some things,” Morgan said.
“Make a list of what she needs,” the sheriff said. “I’ll have a deputy pack a bag for her. Also, before she leaves, I need her to walk through the house and see if any valuables are missing.”
Robbery gone wrong would be the simplest explanation for the murder. Without waiting for a response, Colgate walked away.
Morgan returned to the living room and relayed the information to Tina.
“I’m not leaving my house.” Tina’s chin lifted, and her jaw tightened.
“You don’t have a choice,” Morgan said. “Your house is a crime scene. It might not be released for a few days.”
The forensic unit would need to sift through the evidence they’d recovered from the scene and decide if any experts needed to be called in. At the very least, Morgan would assume they’d request a blood spatter analysis. A rural county did not have every expert on staff the way a large city might. Colgate would have to utilize state police resources or cooperate with neighboring counties. All of these requests took time, though all agencies would prioritize a case involving a missing child and the murder of a former deputy.
“A few days?” Tina’s voice rose. “But how will Evan find me? He doesn’t have his phone. He won’t know where I am.”
Morgan’s heart bled for her. The mere thought of one of her daughters going missing made her physically ill. She touched Tina’s forearm. “I doubt very much that Evan would come back here, not after what happened.”
“Maybe you’re right.” Tina covered her mouth with her hand, stifling a sob. She fought for control for a few seconds, then lowered her hand to her lap. “Then what can I do?”
“Try to think of anywhere Evan might go to hide. Does he have any favorite places? Where does he hang out with his friends?”
Tina clenched her hands together. “There are only a few places. Most of them are in Scarlet Falls. He hasn’t made any new friends since we moved to Grey’s Hollow.”
“I’m sure Evan knows your cell phone number, and we’ll reach out to his friends and make sure they have it as well in case Evan contacts any of them.” Morgan didn’t know a single teenager who trusted adults over friends.
“You’re probably right.” Tina frowned. “Evan did miss his friends when we moved here, but frankly, those old friends were part of the reason I wanted to leave the apartment in Scarlet Falls. I thought he could start fresh in a school where the principal didn’t automatically suspect him for every act of vandalism and every new spot of graffiti that showed up on school grounds. I wanted him to make new friends, ones without juvenile records. I have worked my ass off to give him a better life than I had, but I can’t make him want it.” Bitterness pursed her lips. “But right now, I would give up this house and everything in it just to have him back.” She lifted her gaze. Her eyes were filled with grief and desperation. “All I want is to get my son back safe.” Fresh tears welled, and her hand clenched into a frustrated fist. “How far could he have gotten in last night’s storm?”
Morgan thought of the team’s last hockey game. They’d come from behind to win in the last period. The kids on Lance’s team were not accustomed to winning anything. They didn’t fall apart when the going got tough because for them, life was always tough. They were the underdogs every single day.
Evan was determined, focused, and resourceful. He wouldn’t be easy to find if he wanted to stay hidden.
That was, if he was still alive.
Chapter Six
It was late afternoon before Lance parked in front of Sharp Investigations. The PI firm’s office occupied the bottom half of a duplex in the business district of Scarlet Falls.
He locked his Jeep and headed for the door. His clothes were still damp from the night’s soaking, and he was bone-weary from the weather, the disappointment, and worry. The kid was out in the woods, alone, bleeding, and terrified.
Removing his mud-crusted boots, he carried them inside. The air-conditioning washed over him, the dry chill a relief after a wet and muggy night.
“Lance?” Sharp called from his office.
Lance poked his head in the doorway.
Sharp frowned. “You look like hell. Go get cleaned up.”
As much as Lance wanted to discuss the case, he also wanted dry clothes. “Give me five minutes.”
“Have you eaten?” Sharp asked.
“I had a protein bar.”
Sharp huffed, stood, and left his office. A few seconds later, he was banging around in the kitchen at the back of the building. When Sharp had converted the bottom apartment of his duplex into office space for his private investigation firm, he’d left the full kitchen and bath intact. The facilities were useful when they worked long hours.
Lance walked past his office to Morgan’s doorway. With her own criminal defense practice, she often required the services of an investigator, so her renting the extra office from Sharp was convenient for all of them. Plus, Lance got to spend more time with her, even when they weren’t working a case together.
He stuck his head through the doorway. “I’m back.”
Her desk was clear except for her laptop and notepad. She sat behind it, equally tidy in a silky white blouse, her dark hair twisted into a smooth knot at the back of her head. She must have stopped at home to shower and change.
Lance went into his office and rooted in the closet for fresh clothes. Morgan followed him in.
She moved toward him, reaching to embrace him.
He held up a hand, then gestured to his dirt-streaked pants. “I’m filthy.”
“I don’t care.” She wrapped her arms around his waist.
Lance lifted his boots so they wouldn’t touch her.
“I should shower.” But instead
, he rested his face against her temple. In flat shoes, she was a few inches shorter than he was. Unlike him, she smelled amazing.
“Just give me a second, all right?” She pressed her face into his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re OK.”
“I’m sorry. I should have checked in more frequently.”
“It’s all right. You needed to focus.” But her eyes were relieved.
“Don’t be so forgiving. I might need a little prompting here and there. I tend to get tunnel vision on a case.” He kissed her temple. As usual, the contact with her centered him, and he realized for the billionth time just how much he needed her.
“Any more news on Evan?” she asked.
“No.”
As if she knew he needed to clear his head, she didn’t press him for details. She splayed her hand on his chest. “You look beaten up.”
“I just need a shower.” He kissed her on the mouth, then went into the bathroom.
Morgan followed him, closing the door behind her. Lance turned on the spray and stripped off his clothes. They’d been together for just nine months, but he could no longer imagine his life without her.
“Have you thought about a date for our wedding?” Lance tested the water temperature with his hand.
“Not really. We’ve been so busy planning the renovations.” She traced her finger on his back. “You have a big scrape here.”
“We’re always busy with something.” Lance stepped into the shower and closed the curtain. “You should call your sisters and brother and see when everyone would be available.”
“I should.” She went quiet, just like all the other times over the past few months that he’d tried to pin her down about setting a date.
He tried a different approach. “If you want to get married in a church, we’ll have to find one and see about availability.”
“I know.”
He looked around the curtain. She was folding his dirty clothes, her movements slow and deliberate, almost melancholy.
He didn’t doubt that she loved him, but was she changing her mind about getting remarried? Maybe she didn’t want the girls to think she was replacing their father. He knew he had to force her into a serious conversation, but he was also afraid of what she might say. He was more terrified of losing her than he’d been about the possibility of facing an armed shooter in the woods. So he dropped the curtain and the subject. He turned to let the hot water rush down his back. The scrape she’d pointed out burned.
“Where is Tina?” he asked.
“The sheriff took her to a hotel. He says it’ll be a day or so before the crime scene is released, although I can’t imagine her ever living there again. I volunteered to stay with her or call a friend or family member, but she said she wanted to be alone.”
“Tina is quiet. Evan was on my team for months before she ever spoke to me.” Lance ducked his head under the spray. “But I don’t like that she’s on her own. Whoever killed Paul is still out there. Does the sheriff know how the shooter got into the house?”
“They found no sign of a break-in.”
Lance looked around the curtain again. “Then how do they think he gained entry?”
“Finish your shower. We may as well review everything with Sharp.” She picked up his boots and carried them out of the bathroom.
Something in her tone made him hurry. Five minutes later, he was dressed and walking into the kitchen. He felt almost human in clean clothes and dry socks.
“Sit.” Sharp pointed a wooden spoon at a kitchen chair. He stirred something on the stove.
Lance dropped into a seat.
Morgan walked into the kitchen carrying a cup of coffee. “I cleaned your boots and put them on the back porch to dry.”
“You didn’t need to do that,” Lance said.
“I know.” She smiled.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She dropped into the chair opposite him. “Tell us what happened on the search.”
Sharp set a gross-looking green protein shake in front of him. Lance drank it without asking what was in it. He had no doubt it contained all kinds of antioxidants. Sharp’s lifestyle was the reason he looked as fit as he did twelve weeks after major surgery. Sharp frowned at Morgan’s coffee, but after working together for nearly nine months, he’d mostly given up badgering her about her caffeine and sugar consumption.
“We followed Evan’s tracks on a game trail that led to Deer Lake Campground,” Lance began.
“Didn’t they close that place a few years ago?” Sharp turned off the burner on the stove. He scooped the contents of his cast-iron frying pan onto a plate.
“Yes. It’s in pretty rough shape.” Lance’s mouth watered. Protein bars could sustain him, but his body wanted real food. “After I called you, the K-9 unit was able to track Evan to the boathouse and the public bathroom. The deputies found blood in both buildings.”
“How much blood?” Sharp set the plate in front of Lance. Scrambled eggs and home fries with onions were piled high. Everything would be organic, of course, and the eggs free-range as well.
Lance dug in. “Enough to indicate a serious injury.”
Morgan’s brow furrowed. She gripped her coffee cup in both hands.
Lance sniffed. “That coffee smells amazing.”
“I’ll make green tea.” Sharp shot her mug a disapproving look. He lit the burner under the teakettle, then turned to face them, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back on the counter. “Did you see any sign that someone was following him besides you?”
Chewing, Lance shook his head.
“So where is the person who killed Paul?” Morgan sipped her coffee.
“I don’t know.” Lance plowed through the eggs and moved on to the potatoes. “But Evan was running all out, as if he thought he was being pursued.”
“He must have been terrified.” Morgan’s eyes misted.
Lance reached across the table and squeezed her hand. For a woman who’d once been a successful prosecutor, she was a softie. She’d rescued two stray dogs and cared for her elderly grandfather. The young woman who worked as her nanny suffered from kidney disease. Gianna might help out with childcare, but it was clear that Morgan was the one looking out for her. Lance had no doubt that Morgan would work on Evan’s case without any discussion of compensation.
Nodding with approval, Sharp collected his empty dishes. “Since you’re back, I assume the dog lost the trail.”
“Yes.” Lance sat back. “He picked up the scent in the buildings, but outside was a no go. We suspect Evan took a boat from the campground. The handler walked the dog along the shoreline, but he didn’t hit on anything.”
“All that heavy rain and wind messed with the scent trail.” Sharp frowned.
“What is the sheriff’s game plan?” Lance asked.
Morgan outlined the usual procedure the police typically followed when looking for a missing teen. “He didn’t say much else.”
Lance stiffened. “Why? Aren’t we all on the same side here?”
“The sheriff is holding this case close.” Anger flattened Morgan’s lips.
“I’m not surprised.” Lance’s food churned in his gut. “What about all the scumbags Paul put away?”
“Colgate says they’re looking at Paul’s old cases,” Morgan said.
“The bullet between the eyes feels revenge motivated to me.” Sharp dropped a metal tea ball into a pot and filled it with hot water. He turned to Lance. “Do you need a combat nap?”
“No. We need a murder board.” Lance couldn’t be still, not with Evan still missing. The short break, shower, and food had revived him. He stood and headed for Morgan’s office, which they used as a war room in major cases.
A long whiteboard spanned the far wall. He hadn’t noticed when he’d stuck his head in earlier, but someone had already begun organizing the little data they possessed. Photos of Evan, Paul, Tina, and her ex, Kirk, hung on the board, affixed with magnets. As the victim, Paul held the cente
r position.
Morgan walked in and brewed herself another cup of coffee. She sat at her desk. Opening a drawer, she pulled out a white bakery bag and offered it to Lance. It was full of chocolate donut holes.
“No, thanks,” Lance said. A sugar rush would lead to a crash, and he was already strung out.
Morgan ate one in two bites and wiped her fingers on a napkin. “As you can see, Sharp and I started laying out Paul’s case. While our primary objective is to find Evan, his disappearance is likely intertwined with Paul’s murder.”
On the right side of the board, Sharp’s blocky print spelled out POSSIBLE MOTIVES. Underneath, he’d listed ROBBERY and REVENGE. Next to ROBBERY, Lance picked up a marker and wrote, MISSING ITEMS?
Sharp came through the doorway carrying two mugs. He handed one to Lance. “Tina couldn’t find anything of value that was missing from the house.”
“That doesn’t mean robbery wasn’t the motive.” Lance studied the board. “The killer could have been interrupted by Paul, and then by Evan, before he was able to search the house for valuables. Maybe he decided to cut his losses and run. Most thieves are junkies looking for quick cash to buy a fix. They’re not typically criminal masterminds.”
“But they usually leave traces of a break-in,” Sharp pointed out.
“True.” Lance added a TIMELINE column on the board. “Paul was killed between midnight and one a.m. Evan came home around twelve thirty. How much did he see?”
“Enough to get hurt,” Sharp said. “Enough to make him run like the devil was chasing him. Maybe enough to identify the killer and become the next target.”
Lance set the marker down. “Paul’s gun-cleaning supplies were on the table. Maybe he couldn’t sleep and was keeping busy.”
“Evan was two and a half hours past his curfew.” Morgan leaned on her elbows and frowned at the board. “If one of my girls were that late, you can bet I would have been awake. I’d have called and texted their cell phone. And if they didn’t answer promptly, I’d ping the phone and drive to wherever they were.”
Secrets Never Die Page 5