“Have you called the ethnic markets? There’s an Asian supermarket out near the interstate. Sharp goes there to buy sweet potato greens. I know they carry more than the usual cuts of meat. I’ve seen whole chickens and pig heads.” Lance handed the picture back to her. “What about your grandfather’s surveillance camera?”
“It’s not working.” She slid it into her briefcase. “The alarm company came the other day but they couldn’t repair it. They’re replacing it on Monday.”
As disturbing as it was, he sensed she hadn’t come to discuss the cow heart someone had nailed to her front door. So why was she here?
Footsteps sounded in the hall.
“Lance?” Sharp called.
“In here,” Lance answered.
Sharp appeared in the doorway, and Lance introduced them.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Morgan said. “I really need to speak with you both.”
“In that case, let’s go into my office. I have actual chairs.” Sharp stepped back and gestured across the hall. “Can I offer you a cup of tea?”
“Yes. Thank you,” she said.
Sharp ushered Morgan into his office. “I’ll be right back.” He went into the kitchen.
Lance settled in the chair next to Morgan. Back in the kitchen, water rushed and an igniter on the stove clicked.
Morgan turned to Lance. “I don’t want to spring anything on you. If you’d rather we talk in private . . .”
Lance stopped her. “It’s fine. You can say anything in front of Sharp.” He paused, briefly considering that he wanted to share the intimate details of his past with her and what that implied. “Did I ever tell you about my father?”
“I know he wasn’t in your life, but you’ve never elaborated. You didn’t seem to want to talk about him.” Morgan’s head tilted. “I assumed he’d walked out.”
That’s what everyone had assumed. “When I was ten, my dad vanished.”
Morgan straightened. “Vanished?”
“He literally went out for bread and milk one night and never came home.”
“That’s horrible.” Morgan placed a hand to her throat.
Lance turned away from Morgan and her pity. Outside the office window, the wind stirred a pile of dead leaves on the front lawn. They swirled into the air, then tumbled across the grass, at the mercy of the wind. Much like a ten-year-old Lance had helplessly watched his life cartwheel out of control. As much as he tried to leave his youth behind, he couldn’t help but wonder if his father was dead or alive. Had he met with foul play or had he truly walked away from his family?
“Did the police ever find him?” she asked.
“No.” Lance swallowed. Composed, he pivoted to face her. “Sharp was the detective on the case. He worked it for about a year until the department made him put it aside, unofficially of course. Officially, cops work each case until it’s resolved. But in reality, limited resources have to be channeled to current crimes.”
“That must have been terrible to live through.”
“It was,” Lance said. “But after the case went cold, Sharp kept an eye on me and my mom over the years.”
More than an eye. If it hadn’t been for Sharp, Lance wondered if he’d have gone to college or become a cop or grown into a sane, productive member of society.
“My point is, there isn’t much Sharp doesn’t know about me. He’s more than a business associate. It’s fine to talk in front of him.”
“I’m glad you told me.” Her eyes warmed.
Why had he told her? Not many people besides Sharp knew about the horror that his teenage years had become. The truth had been too painful to talk about. As a kid, it had been easier to let everyone think his parents were divorced and his mom was never around because she worked overtime to pay the bills. Circumstances had limited his social life, and he certainly hadn’t shared her mental breakdown with his very few friends.
He couldn’t help but wonder what Morgan would think of his mom. He certainly didn’t tell any of the women he dated casually that his father had disappeared. And By the way, my mother has a serious mental illness wasn’t the best lead-in for future dates. Lance had had several quasi-serious relationships. None had survived the meeting-the-parents stage. It was just too much to expect anyone else to deal with his mother’s issues. Morgan already carried more than her share of responsibility. How could he possibly ask her to shoulder any more?
And this was why they could only be friends, no matter how much Lance would like more. Cups rattled in the kitchen. A few minutes later, Sharp carried a tray to his desk. He handed a cup to Morgan.
She took it in both hands, cradling it as if to warm her fingers. “As you might know, I’ve agreed to defend Nick Zabrowski.”
Sharp nodded. “I saw you on the news.”
“I won’t lie. Defending Nick won’t be easy. The DA has already convinced the public that Nick is guilty, and from what I’ve seen of the evidence, the case is daunting.”
Lance leaned forward. “Someone pinned a cow’s heart to Morgan’s front door with a knife today.”
“Classy.” Sharp exhaled, concern and respect filling his eyes. “But that won’t stop you.”
“No.” Morgan’s eyes lifted, and her blue eyes blazed with conviction. “Nick has lived across the street from my grandfather for years. He mows our lawn. He plays chess with Grandpa. My girls love him. I just can’t believe Nick could harbor the level of rage necessary . . .” Letting the thought trail off, she set her tea aside. “Our neighborhood is closely knit. I also knew Tessa. She babysat for my girls. As much as I want to prove Nick didn’t kill her, I also want to find the person who did.”
“That’s a tall order.”
“It is. I won’t be able to do it alone. I’m going to need an investigator.”
Lance coughed. She wanted to hire Sharp Investigations? Why hadn’t that occurred to him? Why else would she be here? Clearly, she hadn’t come just to talk to him, and didn’t that fact give him an ache right under his heart?
He tried to put it aside. He had no right to feel hurt. Morgan wasn’t ready for a relationship, and as long as he had his mom to handle, neither was he.
But damn.
He couldn’t entirely suppress his feelings. If he and Sharp didn’t agree to help her, she’d go to someone else. Jealousy poked him in the gut. He didn’t want anyone else working closely with her. But taking the case would put him at odds with Chief Horner. Lance’s chance of getting that upcoming detective slot would evaporate faster than steam from an overheated radiator.
All he’d ever wanted since his dad disappeared was to be a detective. Could he give that up?
“Does your client have money?” Sharp asked bluntly.
Morgan sighed. “I’ll be honest. Bud is scrambling for cash. He’s remortgaging his house.”
Sharp said, “You’re working pro bono?”
Morgan nodded. She was sacrificing her entire career for her neighbor, and she wasn’t even getting paid. “Whatever money he can amass will be for the investigation and defense. Bud’s a good man. He’ll pay you eventually.”
“You really believe this kid is innocent?” Sharp asked.
“I do.” There was no doubt in her tone.
Lance rested his elbows on his knees. “What if you find out he isn’t?”
“He is.” Morgan’s eyes went flat with determination. “Besides the fact that I know he’s not capable of murder, Nick vomits at the sight of blood. I’ve personally witnessed this happen. It’s an immediate, visceral reaction.”
“So you think he’s being railroaded,” Lance said.
“Horner’s an ass,” Sharp chimed in. “But I can’t see him deliberately persecuting an innocent man.”
“He expedited three DNA tests in six days,” Morgan added. “That took work. I’m sure he used up quite a few favors. He wants Nick to be guilty.”
Sharp nodded. “Bryce Walters needs the public image boost after that cluster with the Jones case a few month
s ago.”
“I feel so out of touch. What happened?” Morgan rubbed her forehead.
“The police chief and DA pushed a search warrant through only to have it be declared invalid at trial for lack of probable cause. With the evidence suppressed, an armed robber walked. Three weeks later, Jones killed a liquor store clerk in Whitehall. After the press broadcast the connection, both the mayor and the DA saw their public approval ratings take a swan dive.”
“That also explains why they were extra cautious with the search warrant.” Morgan lowered her hand, her brows furrowed in thought. “But if they want this case solved quickly, they might have made mistakes.”
“Yes,” Sharp agreed. “I’d not only look under every rock, I’d blow them up and examine the pieces.”
Sharp’s gaze landed on Lance like a Taser barb, then returned to Morgan. “We’ll need to discuss the offer. Can we have a few minutes?”
“Of course,” she said.
Lance followed Sharp across the hall into the storage room.
Sharp closed the door. “It’s up to you. If we work her investigation, Horner is going to be pissed. As long as he’s the SFPD chief, you’ll never wear a badge again in this town.”
“I know.” Lance scrubbed his hands over his face. Moving away from Scarlet Falls wasn’t an option. He couldn’t leave his mom.
“Do you know this kid?”
“A little. On the surface, I would never have suspected him capable of murder, but we both know people can be very good at hiding their sins.” Lance put aside the complications Morgan’s offer entailed and focused on what he knew about the case.
Sharp scratched his chin. “Irrespective of his guilt or innocence, are you prepared to give up a future with the police force to work for her?”
“Yes. I want to take this case,” Lance said.
“For you, for Nick, or for Morgan?”
“All of the above. I’d pretend to be all noble, but that would be bullshit.”
Sharp got up and went to a filing cabinet. “In that case, I have something for you that might make you feel better about your decision. I was waiting for the right moment to give it to you.” He unlocked and opened the bottom drawer, pawed through a tight row of files, and yanked a thick accordion file free. He handed it over. “Here.”
“What’s this?” Lance turned it sideways. His blood chilled as he read the label: VICTOR KRUGER.
His father.
The file was two inches thick and felt heavier than mere paper should. The weight of its implications no doubt.
“My personal file on your father’s case.” Sharp closed and locked the drawer.
“Police detectives aren’t supposed to keep personal files.”
“This is true, but we all do. Or at least we did back then.” Sharp sighed. “I’m sure plenty has changed since I left the force.”
Lance tested the file’s weight. “So you clearly worked on his case even after it was officially declared cold.”
“I kept plugging away at it in my personal time.” It was just like Sharp to do so without saying a word.
“You never told me.”
“When you were a teenager, you needed normal and you wouldn’t have gotten that if you didn’t let go.”
As evidenced by what had happened to Lance’s mother.
Lance didn’t open the file. “I’ve been in this office nearly every day for two months. Why didn’t you give me this before?”
“I wasn’t sure you’d want it, and I didn’t want you to get consumed by something that happened more than two decades ago. I’m also sensitive to the impact reopening the case might have on your mom. But if you’re going to join the firm permanently, I feel like I shouldn’t keep this from you any longer. You should be able to make this decision for yourself.”
Lance touched his dad’s name. Did he want this? Once he opened the file, he’d be pulled in. The case had the potential to be his black hole. He also had to consider his mom. Dredging up the past could have serious repercussions on her life, which was already a constant and precarious balancing act.
Sharp continued. “I know that your dad’s case and my influence over the years is part of what drives you. But you don’t have to be on the force to be a detective. I got pulled from your dad’s case because the case went cold and the budget was tight. We were shorthanded. Officially, I had to move on to solving active crimes. In the private sector, I decide when to stop working a case. Now it’s up to you.”
“Thank you. I think.” Lance tapped the file on his leg. He was afraid to open it.
“So you’re sure you want to take Nick’s case? This is an important decision. Do you need time to think about it?”
As much as it pained Lance to let go of his dream, in his heart he didn’t really have an option. He’d never be able to turn his back on Morgan. His fingers curled around the edge of the file. “I’m in.”
“You really do have it bad for her.”
“We’re just friends.”
“Sure you are.”
“On the bright side,” Lance said. “I can’t stand Horner, and not only will I never have to work for him, but taking this case will be like giving him a metaphorical middle finger.”
“That’s the spirit. He is a dick. I don’t know why you’d ever want to go back to working for him. He was one of the reasons I took retirement as soon as it became an option.” Sharp slapped Lance’s shoulder. “Order some damned furniture and expense it to the office. I’m tired of watching your giant self hunch over that ridiculous card table.”
Oddly, Lance felt lighter, as if letting go of his police career had somehow freed him. The tightness in his thigh didn’t feel so dire.
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that just-friends thing,” Sharp said. “She doesn’t look at you like a friend. How long ago was she widowed?”
“About two years. But we both know it doesn’t matter.”
“Just because you’ve been burned by a few selfish women doesn’t mean you’ll never find one who can handle your baggage.”
“Morgan has enough baggage of her own. Together, we’d be a disaster.” The weight of their collective burdens would drag them under. “I’ll let her know we’re in. What about the golden rule? Nick’s father won’t have a retainer yet.”
“I will make an exception because she is your close, personal friend.” Sharp jabbed a finger in the air. “But do not tell anyone I took a case with no money up front. My reputation will be ruined.”
“Can’t have that.” Lance opened the door.
“I can always take the expenses out of your pay,” Sharp said, probably only half-kidding.
Lance paused in the doorway. “You can pretend to be a hard-ass all you want, but now I know you’re a softie.”
Sharp chuckled, then grew serious. “If she needs an office, tell her she can use this room. We’ll clear it out for her. I have an excellent security system for this building. Her files will be safer here than at her house. I also doubt she’ll want to bring autopsy photos into her home where her children might see them.”
“Good point,” Lance said. “I’m going to stay close to her, Sharp. People are going to be angry. Today’s stunt was only the beginning. By taking this case, Morgan has made herself the public face for a whole can of hate.”
“Agreed.” Sharp’s gaze narrowed. “If she’s right and this kid is innocent, that means there’s a real killer out there, and I doubt he’ll be happy with Morgan prying into the murder.”
Lance went back to Sharp’s desk. Morgan was scrolling on her phone.
“We’re in,” he said.
She exhaled and closed her eyes for a long second. When she opened them, they were full of gratitude. “Thank you.”
“Do you have a game plan?” he asked.
“I’m waiting for evidentiary documents from the DA’s office. I just met with Bryce an hour ago, so that’s going to take a while. But I talked to Nick this morning.” Morgan pulled out her notes and gave them t
he highlights of her interview.
When she listed the kids who were still at the lake when Nick left, Sharp interrupted. “Did you say a girl named Jamie was one of the kids Nick left behind at the lake?”
Morgan nodded. “Yes. Nick said she was a friend of Tessa’s. He didn’t know her last name.”
“We can help you with that,” Sharp said. “Her name is Jamie Lewis. One of your key witnesses is our missing teen. You and Lance should go talk to her parents.”
Lance pulled his keys from his pocket. Now that he’d made his decision, his interest in the case was piqued. Plus, working with Morgan was going to be . . .
Interesting. She stood and collected her giant purse. “Maybe there’s a connection. Jamie and Tessa were friends. One is hiding. The other is dead.”
Chapter Sixteen
Morgan couldn’t imagine having one of her girls missing for two months. Just the thought of it made her queasy.
In the tiny living room of a two-bedroom apartment, Vanessa Lewis sat on a plaid love seat and stared at the picture of her daughter. She wore no makeup, and her straight brown hair was cut in a short wash-and-wear cap. “I can’t believe this was taken last Thursday night. Why would she still be in Scarlet Falls and refuse to come home?” She blinked a tear from her eye.
“We’ll find her.” Sitting next to her, Vanessa’s fiancé, Kevin Murdoch, reached for a tissue box on the end table and handed it to her.
Morgan and Lance sat in two wingback chairs on the other side of the glass coffee table.
“Did something unusual happen before Jamie ran away?” Morgan asked.
Vanessa nodded. Her eyes and nose had reddened. “Kevin asked me to marry him. I was so happy. But when I told Jamie he’d be moving in with us, she exploded. She’s always been difficult. Moody. Explosive. Oppositional. She has ADD. When she was younger, she took medication, but she didn’t like the way it made her feel. Once she got too old for me to force her, that was the end of that. I always wondered why she was so difficult to handle, but when she hit puberty, she got much worse. I took her to a new psychiatrist who said she was also bipolar. While the diagnosis was hard to take, it explained her terrible mood swings and anger issues.”
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