“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 the 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.”
Kevin reached for her hand. “This isn’t your fault. You couldn’t predict that Jamie would react the way she did.”
“I’m a night manager at the diner,” Vanessa said. “At least five nights a week, I don’t get home until two in the morning.” She sniffed. “I thought this was going to be a good thing. Kevin is an accountant. He works from home. I know Jamie was sneaking out to parties while I was at work. I’d hoped having an adult in the house in the evenings would be the end to the drinking and pot smoking.” She looked at her fiancé. “Kevin warned me that Jamie might not see the end to her freedom as a positive outcome.”
“We won’t stop searching until we find her.” Kevin lifted their joined hands and kissed her knuckle.
At fifty, Kevin was an average-looking middle-aged guy with a receding hairline and a small paunch, but Vanessa looked at him as if he were Brad Pitt.
“I don’t know what I would have done without Kevin. He’s been my rock.” She gave him a weak smile. “I keep telling him he should move in. He’s here all the time anyway, but he won’t do it.”
Kevin shook his head. “No. Not while Jamie’s gone. It wouldn’t be right. She’d feel like you moved on without her in just two months. We’ll wait until she’s home and settled.”
Lance leaned forward. “How long have you been dating?”
Vanessa smiled. “Two years.”
“How do you and Jamie get along, Kevin?” Morgan asked.
Kevin’s gaze met hers for a split second, then flickered to the left. He scratched his nose. “Fine.”
Pausing before answering a simple question, the inability to maintain eye contact, and touching one’s face were all classic examples of a liar’s body language. So, what was Kevin lying about?
Morgan circled around the topic of his relationship with Jamie. “Do you have any children of your own?”