“Could you hear us outside?” Lance leaned a hip on the counter.
Joe shook his head. “But I can read lips.”
And that explained why Joe hadn’t heard them calling for him.
“You never spoke to Olivia?” Sharp hooked a thumb in the front pocket of his jeans.
“No.” Joe leaned on the counter, spreading his palms wide. “I prefer email and text. I don’t like to talk on the phone. Even with hearing aids, it’s hard for me to distinguish words without having lips and facial expressions to read.”
Sharp’s head tilted. “The night Brandi Holmes was kidnapped, your brother said he was here with you. Was he?”
Joe stared at his dog. “As I said in my testimony, I don’t wear my hearing aids at night. In fact, I don’t like to wear them at all. They aren’t like glasses. Hearing can’t be returned to twenty-twenty. I’ve never been able to get used to the way they amplify sound. There’s always distortion and background noise. And it’s like wearing plugs in your ears all the time.”
“You didn’t give your brother an alibi?” Sharp asked.
“How could I?” Joe’s voice rose. “Even if I had wanted to, it was impossible.”
“But did you want to?” Sharp pressed.
Joe blinked. “I wish I could have given him an alibi.”
Lance switched gears. “Olivia found a technical issue with the evidence presented in your brother’s trial. Did she mention it to you?”
Beads of sweat broke out on Joe’s forehead. A vein on his temple throbbed. “No.”
Is he lying?
“What was wrong with the evidence?” Joe asked.
Lance explained about the break in the chain of custody of the hair samples.
“I don’t understand all that technical legal crap, but my brother will never get out of prison.” Joe shook his head, as if trying to convince himself.
“What if he could get an appeal?” Lance asked.
“It’s been years,” Joe stammered. “Could that even happen?”
“I don’t know,” Lance said. “But Olivia was onto something. And now she’s missing.”
“Well, Cliff is in prison. He didn’t take her.” Joe began to pace. He propped one hand on a hip and swept the other through his thick black hair. Distress radiated from him in waves.
“You’re sure you didn’t meet with her?” Sharp asked.
Joe stopped, his mouth dropping open as his gaze darted back and forth between Sharp and Lance. “You can’t think I had anything to do with her disappearance.”
That was exactly what Lance was thinking.
He leaned forward, placing both palms on the smooth wood. “Why does the thought of revealing an evidentiary error bother you? Do you believe Cliff is innocent? Is he going to be mad you didn’t give him a better alibi? Has he been locked up for three years for a crime he didn’t commit?”
Joe swallowed. “This conversation is over. Get out.” His voice roughened. Sensing her master’s emotions, the dog rose to her feet, her attention riveted on Joe.
Sharp didn’t break eye contact with Joe until Lance guided him toward the front door. They walked outside into the cold night air. They didn’t speak until they reached the car.
Sharp unlocked the vehicle with his fob.
“Let me drive.” Lance walked to the driver’s door.
Sharp didn’t argue and climbed into the passenger seat. “What did you think?”
“I’m not sure.” Lance turned the vehicle around. “He wasn’t happy about the idea that his brother’s conviction could be overturned.”
“Does he really think his brother is guilty or did Joe kill Brandi? Maybe he doesn’t want the case reopened?” Sharp leaned his head on the back of the seat. “We don’t have anything to tie him to Brandi or any of the other missing women.”
Lance steered the Prius onto the main road.
“Maybe we haven’t looked hard enough.” Sharp reached for his phone. “When he said he wished he could give his brother an alibi, he was lying his ass off.”
“Where to?” Lance asked.
“The office,” Sharp said. “I want to review everything we have on Joe Franklin and touch base with your mother and Stella. I also have to call Olivia’s sister and give her an update.”
Lance planned to call Morgan to let her know he’d be sleeping at the office. Sharp was losing control, which was understandable under the circumstances. But Lance wasn’t leaving him alone.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Morgan stirred. Pain in her neck jolted her awake. Sitting up in the hospital recliner, she blinked at the dawn light pouring through the open blinds.
A nurse was checking Gianna’s vital signs.
“You’re awake.” Gianna smiled.
Morgan rubbed at the cramp between her neck and shoulder. “How do you feel?”
“Fine,” Gianna said, though pain shadowed her eyes. “You should go home and get some sleep.”
“I just had some.” Morgan checked her watch. She’d slept at least five hours after Gianna had been brought back to her room after surgery.
The nurse left the room.
“Morgan, I appreciate all you do for me,” Gianna said.
“It’s my pleasure—”
“Let me talk.” Gianna rubbed the edge of the clear tape over the new catheter in her chest as if it itched. “A little more than two years ago, I didn’t care if I lived or died. Then Stella saved my life and helped me get clean. I had no faith in myself, but Stella did. I had no money. Kidney failure was a hard thing to accept. Even if I’d wanted to get some job skills and make something of myself, I was way too sick to work.” She dropped her hand to toy with the edge of the blanket. “I was pretty depressed, maybe even more than when I OD’d. That was an accident. I was careless with my life because I didn’t have much to live for. But after I got out of the hospital, I had to make a choice. Did I want to live or not? Dialysis requires commitment. It sucks, and if I didn’t really want to live, why bother? I could just stop going. No one could make me.”
Gianna spooned an ice chip into her mouth from a plastic cup on her tray.
Morgan had known Gianna had been depressed but not that she’d considered letting herself die.
“But Stella wouldn’t give up on me. She checked on me every day. She made sure I had food. She paid my rent twice. I was surprised how much it meant just to have one person who cared. I’d never really had that before.” Gianna paused again to swallow and fish out a second ice chip.
Morgan didn’t interrupt. She sensed Gianna had more that she needed to get off her chest. The young woman had lived with Morgan for over a year. Yet they hadn’t had this conversation. Morgan had been focused on getting Gianna healthier and guiding her through the transplant application process at several nearby centers. She’d been single-minded. She should have been more attuned to Gianna’s emotional wellness. Depression was common in dialysis patients, and Gianna had plenty of life baggage piled on top of her medical condition.
“Anyway. That night in the hospital when you said I was going home with you changed my life forever.” Gianna had been kidnapped and had nearly died. “Part of me wanted to say no. To just go home and die. Letting you all care about me was hard. As weird as it sounds, it was scary to want to live. What if I wasn’t worth all the effort? What if I failed? What if I did everything right and still died?” She paused, swallowing hard. “What if I went back to using?”
Morgan reached out and touched Gianna’s hand. “First of all, I don’t think you’d do that. Secondly, I would still support you.” But it would change things. Morgan couldn’t have a drug user in her home with her children.
“People relapse. It happens.” Gianna’s eyes hardened. “I was in pain every single day. It would have been easier to find some dope and not give a shit anymore. To want to live meant I was going to have to work every day at getting healthy. Even harder for me, I was going to have to let people get close. That was hard.” She looked down at M
organ’s hand over hers. “But I was too tired to argue with you, so I let you take charge.”
“I’m sorry if I was too bossy,” Morgan said. She hadn’t meant to steamroll over Gianna’s insecurities.
Gianna gave a short laugh. “Not too bossy. Just bossy enough. Anyway, those first few weeks at your house were pretty overwhelming. The girls accepted me with no hesitation. They didn’t know what I’d been.” Gianna’s cheeks flushed with humiliation. “All the things I’d done.”
Morgan squeezed her hand.
“Your whole family took me in. They didn’t seem to care about my past. I can never repay you all for what you’ve given me. I don’t care if we’re not related. I love every one of you more than my biological family.” She sniffed and wiped a tear from her cheek. Her own mother had done nothing but use her.
“We feel lucky to have you with us,” Morgan said. “And we love you back.”
Gianna nodded. “Anyway, my point is now I want to live. I won’t lie. This setback is discouraging, but I won’t let it get to me.” She gestured to the tube taped to her chest. “As much as I hate this, it’s only temporary. The doctor says it’s common, and I’ll get back to normal in a couple of months. Maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll get a transplant before the next graft goes bad.”
“Let’s hope,” Morgan said.
Gianna looked up, meeting Morgan’s eyes with a fierce gaze. “But you need to go home and take care of yourself and your family and find Olivia. I’m not that weak, super-sick girl you practically adopted last year. I can speak up for myself now. I’m going to get through this.”
Respect filled Morgan. All Gianna had needed was some love and encouragement. How horrible was it that she never received any in the first eighteen years of her life?
“All right.” Morgan stood and collected her tote. “But you have to promise to text if you have any problems. If you can’t find me, Grandpa can coordinate whatever you need.”
Gianna smiled. “He’s good at that.”
“Yes, he is.” Morgan turned toward the door but glanced back. “And for the record, I wouldn’t have made it through my husband’s death without him. There’s no shame in needing people. I was just lucky enough to be born with a built-in support system.”
Morgan left the room. On her way to the elevator, she stopped at the nurse’s station and gave them her grandfather’s cell phone number in case of an emergency. Gianna might be an adult, but she wasn’t alone anymore. She had family now. Someone would always be around to help.
Outside, she opened her rideshare app and requested a car. Her minivan was at the house, and Lance had taken the Jeep. Her ride came within ten minutes. Twenty minutes after she was picked up, Morgan opened the front door of her house and went inside. She toed off her shoes in the foyer. The dogs greeted her with sleepy stretches, yawns, and wags, and she scratched behind their ears. Carrying her shoes, she went into the family room.
Mac rose from the couch, where he’d clearly been sleeping.
“How is Gianna?” He rubbed an eye.
“Out of surgery and resting as comfortably as possible. She might be able to come home in a few days.”
“That’s great.” Mac stretched. “You should catch a few hours of sleep. No offense, but you look like hell.”
“I’m sure I do.”
“Where is Lance?”
“With Sharp.” Morgan set down her tote.
“Have you eaten?” Mac asked.
Morgan shook her head. Her hospital sleep had been fitful. Exhaustion weighed on her like a wet comforter.
“The girls will be up soon. I’ll make breakfast after I take a quick shower.” She went into the kitchen.
Mac followed her. The dogs whined, and he scooped kibble into their bowls.
“Do you teach classes today?” She filled the coffeepot.
“I have one class and office hours this morning.” He set the bowls on the floor. “I can take Sophie to preschool on my way to work, pick her up on my way back, and hang out with the kids this afternoon.” “I’d really appreciate that. I don’t even know what I’m doing today.” Morgan hadn’t talked to Lance, Sharp, or Stella since the night before.
“I’m going to run home and shower. Be back soon. I’ll take the dogs out before I go.” Mac gave her a quick hug before leaving. He and Stella lived just a few minutes away.
“Thank you,” Morgan called after him. She scooped coffee and pressed the “On” button.
Morgan hurried to her room and took a quick shower. When she emerged from the bathroom in her bathrobe, Sophie stood in the doorway. “Mommy!”
She’d slept in her Halloween costume. She raced for Morgan and leaped into her arms.
Morgan caught her, kissed her, and carried her to the kitchen. “What do you want for breakfast?”
“Pancakes, but can you make them like Gianna does?” Sophie asked.
“I think I can manage.” Morgan filled a cup with coffee, then found the box of pancake mix in the cabinet. “Before Gianna came to live with us, I used to make all your pancakes.”
“But Gianna makes them special.” Sophie climbed up onto a kitchen stool, knelt, and leaned her chin in both hands on the island. “Will she be home today?”
“No. Maybe in a few days.”
“I miss her.” Sophie sighed.
Ava, Mia, and Grandpa joined them in the kitchen and gathered around the island. Morgan hugged everyone and poured juice. Then she mixed batter and ladled it onto the buttered griddle. She piled the cooked pancakes on a plate and gave the girls two each before setting the plate on the island and sitting down.
“Gianna made bunny pancakes yesterday.” Sophie inspected her pancakes, then covered them in syrup. Tasting her first bite, she grudgingly admitted, “They’re almost as good as Gianna’s.”
“Thank you.” Amused, Morgan sipped her coffee. Gianna had only been with them for one year, but for a four-year-old, that was a quarter of her life. For Sophie, it was as if Gianna had always been with them.
The girls finished eating, and Morgan sent them to get dressed.
Grandpa pushed the plate of pancakes toward her. “Eat. Coffee isn’t enough.”
“I’m worried about Gianna.”
“She’s tough. She’ll be all right.”
Morgan lowered her voice so the girls wouldn’t hear. “What if she isn’t? What if she doesn’t get a kidney in time?”
Grandpa frowned. “Let’s take one day at a time and not borrow trouble. We have enough of our own.”
“You’re right.” But her head was full of doubts as she ate a pancake. She went back to her bedroom, dressed in jeans and a sweater, and walked Ava and Mia to the bus stop. Mac picked up Sophie to take her to preschool, as promised, and Morgan returned to the kitchen for another cup of coffee.
Lance called as she poured.
She answered, “Hey.”
“Hey yourself.”
Morgan updated him on Gianna’s condition, then asked, “How is Sharp?”
“As you’d expect.” Lance sounded depressed. “I don’t know how he’s going to be if we don’t find her.”
“I know,” Morgan said. “The kids are off to school. I can be at the office in fifteen.”
“Don’t rush. Sharp and I are going to question the former Olander foreman, Ronald Alexander. Stella tried yesterday, but he wasn’t very cooperative. Sharp wants to try a different approach.”
“Stella isn’t going to like that,” Morgan warned.
“Probably not,” Lance agreed. “But Sharp is going with or without me. I don’t want him running off on his own. I’d rather none of us be alone.”
“All right. I’ll review files here while you’re gone. Grandpa can help—”
“Hold on,” Lance said. “Turn on the news. A reporter is interviewing Kim Holgersen.”
With her phone still pressed to her ear, Morgan left the kitchen and turned on the TV in the family room.
On the screen, Olivia’s literary agent was s
tanding in front of a small one-story house. The street was lined with similar homes on tiny lots. It looked like a senior community. A news van was parked on the side of the road.
The reporter shoved a microphone at her. “Are you worried about your client Olivia Cruz?”
Kim pushed her long red hair behind her ear. “Yes, I am.”
“Have you heard any updates from the police?” the reporter asked, following her.
“I’m not sure I should be talking to you.” Kim turned toward the house.
“You live in New York City. Why are you here?” the reporter persisted, bombarding her with questions faster than Kim could answer them. “Did the police ask you to come? Do you know anything about Olivia Cruz’s disappearance?”
Kim was no pushover. She faced the camera. “I’m here to visit my parents, but I’m available to the police at any time. Olivia is my friend as well as my client. I wish I knew something that could help bring her home, but all I can do is pray for her safe return. I can’t imagine what her family is going through.” Kim’s voice broke. She paused to compose herself. “If anyone has information about Olivia’s whereabouts, please call the police.” She turned and walked away.
The reporter added a few lines about Olivia being missing for over three days and signed off.
“How did he find her at her parents’ house?” Morgan turned off the television. “The press has been unusually relentless, and someone is clearly feeding them information.”
“Probably the usual leak in the police department,” Lance said. “Sharp is ready. I have to go.”
“Good luck with the foreman.”
“I’ll call you when we’re finished,” Lance said. “I love you.”
“Love you too.” Morgan ended the call and went back to the kitchen.
Grandpa pushed up the sleeves of his sweater. “Let’s get to work. How can I help?”
Morgan brought out her laptop. “I want to focus on Joe Franklin. Lance and Sharp talked to him last night, but they both felt he was evasive. They want to know if there’s any way he could be connected to Cliff’s victim or any of the other five girls who are still missing.”
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