Save Your Breath (Morgan Dane #6)(21)

Lance turned back to Sophie. The way her eyes glowed with excitement reminded Lance of Drew Barrymore in Firestarter.

Or that kid from The Omen.

Lance walked forward to stand next to her. “That costume isn’t for a kid, Soph.”

She didn’t say a word, but her expression was all So what?

What is she going to be like as a teenager? Lance shuddered.

Wisely, Sophie chose bargaining over confrontation. “Ava and Mia got to pick the costumes they wanted.”

“Yes, but they picked from the kids’ section. These are adult costumes.” Lance stared at the mask. There was something about it that nagged at him. He tore his gaze away. “How about we look at the rest of the kids’ costumes, OK?”

Sophie tilted her head, as if she was contemplating how far she could push him on the issue. She was a cagey little thing, and he admitted, he was usually a pushover. She glanced back at Mia, who was wiping her eyes. “OK.” Sophie turned away from the zombies, slumped her shoulders, and dragged her rain boots on the floor.

Lance took her by the hand. They turned back to the kids’ section and strolled up the aisle. Mia and Ava fell into step beside them.

He spotted a display of puppy and kitten costumes. “How about this kitten? You like kittens. Isn’t this Marie from The Aristocats?”

“I don’t want to be a kitten.” Sophie shook her head hard enough to sway her pigtails.

“You spent most of last year dressed as a kitten,” Lance reasoned.

“I’m four now,” Sophie said. “I want a scary costume.”

Mia’s lip quivered.

“Let’s keep looking.” Lance scanned the walls. He spotted a zombie princess across the aisle. Ragged purple dress, greenish-white makeup, no splashes of blood. He pulled it down from the hook. “How about a zombie princess?”

Sophie deflated with exaggerated disappointment. “There’s no blood.”

Exactly.

“It’s still scary,” Lance said. There was no way he was buying Sophie a Halloween costume that made Mia cry and would terrify half the kids in her preschool class. Morgan would kill him.

“I could get two costumes,” Sophie offered. “One for school and one for trick-or-treating.”

He steeled his gaze. “One costume.”

Sophie scuffed a yellow boot on the waxed floor.

Lance spotted a vampire makeup kit. “But we could buy some red makeup and draw a little blood on your face. But not for school, all right? Just for trick-or-treating. We don’t want to scare your classmates.”

She gave him a deadpan look that suggested that’s exactly what she’d wanted to do.

Lance met her gaze head-on.

“OK.” Her sigh was long-suffering.

“So we’re done.” Lance plucked the makeup kit from its peg, hung the costume over his arm, and steered the girls toward the front of the store. The wall of adult masks caught his attention again as they walked past. They were made of rubber and were meant to be worn over someone’s whole head. There were witches, skeletons, and horror-movie characters. His gaze lingered on the zombie mask Sophie had wanted. It was flesh colored, with open wounds and sunken eyes.

It reminded him of something.

The girls were at the head of the aisle.

With no time to study the mask, he grabbed one and hid it under Sophie’s costume. He hurried to catch up with the children. At the checkout counter, he distracted them with lollipops, pretending not to hear Ava whisper to Mia, “Mommy never lets us get the candy.”

He purchased the adult mask without them noticing and quietly asked the clerk to put it in a separate bag that he tucked under his arm as they navigated the parking lot.

Back in the van, Lance hid the bag under the passenger seat. Then he buckled the girls into their car seats and drove home. Once inside the house, the girls stampeded to their rooms to put on their costumes. Lance returned to the van for the mask. He took it to the bedroom and shut the door. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he pulled the mask from the bag and stretched the material between his fingers. It had plenty of give, but it could be ripped.

More important, the mask was the same texture, color, and thickness as the piece of rubber they’d found in Olivia’s bedroom.





Chapter Ten

Morgan drove Sharp’s Prius south on the interstate slowly enough to elicit three horn honks and two middle fingers from passing vehicles.

Sharp responded to the gestures in kind. “Those drivers are assholes. They can get around you.”

Morgan ignored them.

Sharp stared out the window, his gaze searching the roadside. Morgan slowed even more as they approached a bridge, and Sharp craned his neck to get a view of the sloping riverbank. But his tight-lipped expression told Morgan there were no breaks in the guardrail or tire tracks in the soft earth to indicate a car had driven off the road. Morgan glanced at the dark water as they crossed the river. Could her car have gone off a different road?

Leaving the bridge behind, Morgan brought the Prius back up to the minimum speed. “Does Olivia always take the same route to her parents’ house?”

“Unless there’s an accident or other major traffic delay,” Sharp answered without taking his eyes off the roadside. “I checked. There were no traffic issues this morning.”