Bones Don't Lie (Morgan Dane #3)(28)

“No,” Lance said. “Did either of you know a woman named Mary Fox?”

Brian stared at his plate, his brows lowered, his mouth set. “I don’t think so.”

Natalie shook her head. “That name doesn’t sound familiar.”

“She was a waitress at PJ’s,” Lance prompted.

Brian played with his fork. “There were several waitresses at PJ’s. Can you describe her?”

“I can do better than that.” Morgan reached for the tote next to her chair. Pulling it onto her lap, she removed a picture from the side pocket. “This was Mary.”

Natalie took the picture. “I remember her.” She frowned as she passed it to Brian.

Brian’s jaw shifted as he took the photo. “Oh, that Mary. Her last name was Fox? Yeah, I remember her. Why?” He handed the picture back to Morgan, as if he couldn’t wait to get it out of his hands.

Lance dropped the bomb. “Her skeleton was found in the trunk of my father’s car.”

Brian gaped. “That makes no sense.”

“Did she seem to have a special relationship with Vic?” Morgan moved her notebook to her lap and wrote something down.

Brian looked away.

“I don’t think so,” Natalie said. “But I only went to PJ’s once in a while. Brian, Stan, and Vic were the regulars.” Natalie cleared her throat, her lips pursing in a prudish frown. “I don’t like to speak ill of the dead, but she wasn’t a very nice girl. She seemed to enjoy flirting with married men when their wives were sitting right there.”

Brian stared at his plate. “She flirted with everyone. That’s just the way she was.”

“Did you hear anything about her soliciting from the bar?” Lance asked.

Natalie sniffed. “It wouldn’t surprise me.”

Brian winced. “There were rumors.”

“Did either of you notice when Mary suddenly stopped working at PJ’s?” Morgan asked.

“No.” Natalie broke off a piece of cookie. “There were other waitresses. She wasn’t there every time I went anyway.”

“No. Maybe.” Brian still wouldn’t meet Lance’s gaze. Was he hiding something or was Lance overly suspicious? “Like Natalie said, we wouldn’t give much thought to a change in waitstaff.”

Lance changed topic. “Did you notice anything unusual about my dad in the weeks before he disappeared?”

Brian toyed with a cookie. “He was worried about your mom. She seemed overwhelmed all the time.”

Morgan turned to Natalie. “How well did you know Jenny Kruger?”

“Not that well. I invited her over for Tupperware parties, book club, that sort of thing. She didn’t seem very interested in being closer friends.” Natalie gave Lance a pitying look. “I reached out to your mother several times after Vic went missing. She never responded, and I’m ashamed to say I didn’t push the issue. I should have. I should have checked on you. I’m sorry. I assumed she had family or other close friends.”

She hadn’t.

Sorrow filled Lance when he thought of all the milestones his dad had missed. He couldn’t think of any more questions. Emotions and memories were clogging his brain. “Thank you for your time.”

He and Morgan left the house in a rush. Anger and frustration welling deep in Lance’s chest.

Morgan took his arm as they walked to the Jeep. Her grip was solid and sure. “That must have been hard for you.”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t know what to say.

She let go of him when they reached the Jeep parked at the curb. But she didn’t drop the subject. “Talk to me. Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“I don’t know.”

“For all Natalie’s perfection as a mother, she utterly failed to check on a child who needed help.” Morgan shut her car door extra hard. “She keeps a perfect house. Probably cooks every meal from scratch. But she didn’t do the one thing she should have.”

“I’m sure she’s not that bad.” Lance had an epiphany. “My mother never had any close friends that I remember. She probably did push Natalie—and other people—away.”

“Doesn’t your mother have any family?”

“Not that I know of,” Lance said.

Morgan tapped her armrest.

“What?” he asked.

“For a guy who loves his wife’s baking, Brian didn’t eat a bite of his cookie.” She stilled her fingers. “Lying must have interfered with his appetite.”

“You noticed it too?”

Morgan steepled her fingers. “He was definitely lying.”

“But about what?”

“I guess we’ll have to find out.”

His phone buzzed with a message from Sharp. Lance read it out loud. “Mary’s mother’s name is Crystal Fox. Sharp wants us to meet him at her house in an hour.”

“We should stop for dinner,” Morgan said. “How about that deli on Oak Street?”

Lance was too preoccupied to think about food, but he didn’t like it when Morgan skipped meals. He turned the Jeep around and headed in the right direction.

Maybe Crystal Fox would have the answers he needed.