Bones Don't Lie (Morgan Dane #3)(9)



Lance rubbed a hand across his scalp. After he visited his mother, he had only one thing on his plate: find out who had killed his father.





Chapter Five

Morgan watched Lance struggle, her heart breaking for him. On one hand, she wanted the closure for him and his mother. On the other, closure had a price. Old wounds would be reopened. The pain would be fresh. But hopefully, short-lived.

Lance turned to Sharp. “I’m kicking myself for not opening the case file when you gave it to me back in September.”

“It was the right decision at the time,” Sharp said. “You didn’t want to dredge up the past when there was little chance you could solve the crime, but now there’s physical evidence.”

And the past was going to be stirred up no matter what Lance did.

He crossed his arms over his chest and stared out over the lake. Morgan followed his gaze for a few seconds. With no visible moon, the water undulated in shades of black in the darkness. She shifted her gaze back to his face, now shuttered.

A short while ago, they’d been embracing, happy and intimate.

Now everything had changed.

“Would you give Morgan a lift back to the office?” Lance asked. “Her minivan is there.”

“Of course,” Sharp said.

“Can you give us a minute, Sharp?” Morgan asked.

“I’ll be in the car.” Sharp walked toward his vehicle, allowing Morgan and Lance a moment of privacy.

She crossed the weeds to stand in front of him and put her hands on his forearms. His muscles were taut, rigid with tension. “How are you doing with this?”

“I don’t know.” He looked over her shoulder. Behind him, the flatbed retreated. Lance blinked, then looked at her. “It feels surreal.”

“I’m sorry this is happening to you.” She slid her hands down to grasp his. “Are you sure you don’t want me or Sharp to go with you to your mom’s house? I know you can handle things alone, but you don’t have to.”

“I’m sure.” Lance’s chest rose and fell with a sigh. “I don’t know how she’s going to react. If I need help, I can call Sharp. He’s already seen her at her worst.”

His words stung, even though she knew she was being overly sensitive. Sharp had been in the Krugers’ lives for decades. Morgan’s relationship with Mrs. Kruger was relatively new. Even though it felt as if Lance was part of her family, Morgan obviously hadn’t reached inclusion status in his.

But she didn’t push. She wouldn’t have survived her husband’s death without the support of her grandfather and sister. But Lance had had no one but Sharp for decades. Lance was more accustomed to being alone.

“I understand.” Or at least, she was trying to. “You’ll call me later?”

“I’ll try. Depends on how she takes the news. I’ll stay with her tonight.”

“Of course you will.” She nodded. “Is there anything I can do?”

He shook his head. “But thanks for asking.”

That sounds so . . . detached.

She squeezed his hands, wanting more of a connection with him. “Call me. It doesn’t matter how late.”

With a nod, he turned back to his Jeep and left.

Morgan walked toward the road where Sharp’s car was parked. Sheriff King stood next to the open door of his county vehicle.

As she passed him, his eyes narrowed.

“I hear you got one of those boys off this afternoon.” His voice was low and deep and disgusted.

Morgan stopped and turned to face him. “Eric was innocent. Doesn’t it bother you that he spent the night in jail for a crime he didn’t commit?”

“Given the video his friends were passing around, I’m sure he’s guilty of something.” The careless lift of the sheriff’s big shoulder said as much as his words. He swept his hat off his head and brushed back his gray-streaked hair. “These entitled kids need to learn that there are consequences for their actions.”

“Eric is hardly entitled, and even if he were, that’s no excuse for putting an innocent kid behind bars.” Morgan inhaled, hoping the damp night air would cool her anger. “Eric has a bruise on his face.”

The sheriff shoved his hat back on his head. “Eric resisted arrest.”

Exactly what Morgan had predicted the sheriff would say. “You could have gotten him killed. Your jail is hardly secure.”

She and the sheriff locked gazes for a few seconds. His eyes narrowed at her reference to the attack on her previous client.

“Jail is a dangerous place,” the sheriff said, his voice grating. “Now your client knows that. Maybe he’ll stick to the straight and narrow.”

“He was already on the straight and narrow,” Morgan shot back. “The legal system assumes innocence until proven guilty. Eric didn’t deserve the bruise on his face either.”

“He shouldn’t have resisted arrest.” The sheriff’s jaw shifted back and forth, as if he were grinding his molars. Morgan turned away. There really wasn’t much else to say. Sheriff King was an old school hard-ass. He saw his job as putting as many people in jail as possible. He was not going to change.

“Tyler Green is out on bail,” he said.

Morgan froze, her palms going cold as she slowly turned back. “Seriously?”

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