Her Last Goodbye (Morgan Dane #2)(16)

“Lance?” Sharp called from the hallway.

Lance relaxed. “In here.”

“I’ve checked most of downstairs,” Sharp said from the hallway. “I found two iPads. One must belong to Chelsea.” Walking into the bedroom, Sharp glanced at the computer on the dresser and raised his brows. Lance shook his head and put a finger to his pursed lips.

Sharp’s mouth flattened with suspicion. “Did you search the bathroom?”

“Not yet.”

Sharp went into the adjoining bath. Lance heard cabinets opening and closing.

Ten minutes later, Lance disconnected the hard drive, shut down the laptop, and slid the flash drive back into his pocket just as Sharp emerged from the bathroom.

“Nothing unusual,” he said. “Her travel makeup bag is still in there. No interesting prescriptions.”

The front door slammed, a baby cried, and a little girl chattered. Lance and Sharp went back downstairs.

In the foyer, Patricia took the baby from Tim, and Randall helped Bella take off her jacket while Tim hung his own in the hall closet. With a quick glance between them, Randall and Patricia led the children toward the stairway.

“Let’s read a story.” Randall took his granddaughter’s hand.

Lance waited until they disappeared at the top of the steps. “Tim, there’s another laptop upstairs. Is it yours?”

Tim shook his head. “No. That’s Chelsea’s work computer. In fact, I have to return it to her office today. I was supposed to do it yesterday, but I got hung up with the kids.”

“I don’t suppose the police had a look at it?” Lance asked.

“No. They said they couldn’t. I don’t know why it would matter. There’s nothing personal on it. It’s all spreadsheets. Chelsea was trying to catch up with her clients’ books.”

“Then I think we have everything we need for now,” Sharp said.

Lance and Sharp left the house and returned to the Jeep.

Sharp slid into the passenger seat. “Drop me at the office before you take Tim’s data to your mom.”

“We could just drive out there now.”

“No,” Sharp said. “Morgan is safe enough at the sheriff’s department, but if she beats us back to the office, she’s liable to head off on her own if the sheriff gave her a lead.” Sharp lifted a hand. “Don’t give me a bullshit argument about her being able to defend herself. I have enormous respect for her. I don’t want you looking for a potential kidnapper on your own either.”

“You don’t have to convince me. I worry about her more than you do for rational and irrational reasons.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.” Sharp fastened his seat belt. “So whose computer were you copying in the bedroom?”

Once again, Sharp earned his name. He didn’t miss a trick.

“It belongs to Chelsea’s accounting firm,” Lance admitted.

“You know that copying those files was illegal.”

Lance started the engine. “Only if I get caught. The operating system’s auditing capability wasn’t enabled. So there’s no record of my activity. No one will know the files were copied.”

“Sloppy data security for an accounting firm,” Sharp said.

“Definitely,” Lance agreed. “If there’s nothing suspicious in the files, no one will ever know.”

“And if there is?”

“Then we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” Lance drove toward the office. “But I’ll go through the computer files myself. I don’t want to bring my mom into anything . . . unscrupulous.”

“Illegal,” Sharp clarified.

“Technicality.” Lance felt Sharp’s laser gaze on his face.

“This case must bring back painful memories, but you can’t let your personal history affect your actions. You’ve come a long way since your dad disappeared. Don’t do something stupid because you can’t be objective.”

Lance glanced at his boss. “Good thing we have an excellent attorney in the building.”

“I mean it.”

“OK. OK.” Lance held up a hand.

“I will not bail your ass out of jail.” Sharp’s mouth went tight.

But Lance knew his boss would bail him out in a second. Sharp would be pissed, but he’d be there. As always.

“I’ll be careful.” To Lance this could never be just a case. A woman’s life—and the future of her two children—depended on this investigation.

He would not wish his own life upon those kids. All the years of not knowing. Of wondering if their missing parent was a victim of violence or if they’d been abandoned. Neither option was optimal, but both were better than no closure at all.

He wouldn’t be able to live with himself unless he did everything within his power to find Chelsea Clark, no matter how many rules he had to break.





Chapter Nine


The sheriff’s office was located near the county jail and municipal complex. After verifying that the sheriff’s car was parked behind the building, Morgan opened the glass door and stepped into the lobby. Inside, the ugly brown brick building was old, worn, and thoroughly unattractive, from the scraped linoleum floor to the stained dropped ceiling tiles. The sheriff didn’t waste money on decor.