Save Your Breath (Morgan Dane #6)(24)

Sharp nodded, his mouth a grim, flat line. “We will.”

Valerie gave them her home and cell phone numbers.

Morgan sent her a text. “Now you have my number. Call if you remember anything that might help us locate Olivia.”

Sharp and Morgan headed for the sidewalk. The air had cooled since night had fallen. Morgan tugged her suit jacket around her.

“I’ll drive.” Sharp headed for the driver’s side. “It’s too dark to see the roadside, and the focus will help me think.”

Morgan unlocked the doors with the fob. They climbed into his car, and she handed him the keys.

“Olivia used to cover the crime beat.” He started the engine. “I wonder if any of her former subjects have gotten out of prison lately.”

“Finding out sounds like a job for Lance’s mother,” Morgan said. “We should make a list of people for background checks too. You never know what or who you might find in someone’s past.”

“We’ll get her phone records and find out how many of these people she actually communicated with recently.” Sharp pulled away from the curb.

During the hour-long drive back to Scarlet Falls, Morgan texted Lance, but he didn’t respond. She also called Olivia’s brothers and the friends on Mrs. Cruz’s list but learned nothing. Olivia hadn’t spoken to any of them in weeks.

Sharp headed to Morgan’s house. It was after ten o’clock when he finally pulled into her driveway. The skeleton of the new master-suite addition loomed on the side of the house.

“Where are you going now?” Morgan asked.

“Back to Olivia’s place.” Sharp stared out the windshield. “I’m going to walk the house again, then start going through her desk.”

“Why don’t I come with you?” Morgan hated to see him alone with only his worry to keep him company.

He shook his head. “It’s late. Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning. Maybe I’ll have found a lead by then.”

“Call us if you discover anything important.” Morgan reached for the door handle and waited for his reply.

“I will.”

Morgan climbed out of the car. Sharp didn’t drive away until she was inside the house. She removed her heels in the foyer and left them by the door, then went looking for the family. She found her grandfather in his recliner in the family room, watching the news.

She leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. “Is everyone in bed?”

“Gianna went to sleep early. She wasn’t feeling great. Lance put the kids to bed at eight, but Mia had a bad dream. I haven’t seen him since he went in to talk to her.”

She set a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks.”

He put his hand on hers and gave it a squeeze. “Good night.”

Morgan walked down the hallway to the girls’ bedroom. Once the new master suite was finished, Gianna would move into the old master, and her room would become Sophie’s. Morgan’s youngest daughter still occasionally suffered from night terrors—aptly named because her screaming was terrifying to everyone except Sophie, who slept right through them.

Morgan opened their bedroom door. Light slanted from the hallway into the room. Three twin beds were crammed into the space. Lance lay next to Mia’s bed. His eyes were closed. After such a disturbing day, Morgan indulged herself in a few minutes watching him sleep. He was on his back on the hardwood floor, using a stuffed seal as a pillow, one hand clasped behind his head. The other held Mia’s hand. Morgan’s heart swelled with love and gratitude, and tears filled her eyes.

How did I get this lucky?

She’d found love a second time, with a man who was willing to take on the intimidating job of being a father to three young children. Morgan wiped her eyes and checked the girls. They were sound asleep. She nudged Lance’s shoulder. He opened his eyes and rolled his head as if his neck ached. He wore navy-blue sweatpants and a gray T-shirt. Silently, he stood and stretched, then followed Morgan from the room.

In the hallway, he whispered, “Did you eat dinner?”

“No.” Her stomach grumbled at the suggestion of food.

He took her hand and pulled her into their brand-new enlarged kitchen. The white cabinets gleamed, and undercabinet lights shone on the gray granite counters.

“Gianna made you a plate.” Lance opened the fridge and transferred a plate to the microwave. He pushed a button, and the machine hummed. “I’ll be right back.” He rushed out of the room and returned in a minute. “I bought this at the Halloween store.” He held out the rubber zombie mask. “Does it look like the piece of material Stella found next to Olivia’s bed?”

Morgan rubbed it between her fingers. “Yes. We should give it to Stella so the lab can compare the pieces. The color seems a little lighter to me.”

“There must have been fifty different masks in the store. Thousands must be available online.” Lance got up to pace. “Why would there be a piece of a Halloween mask in Olivia’s bedroom?”

Morgan’s brain whirled with possibilities. “I can think of no good reason.”

The microwave dinged, and Lance set her plate in front of her. She ate without tasting the food, her mind on the case.

Gianna walked into the kitchen, her face pale.

“Do you feel all right?” Morgan didn’t like her pallor, but Gianna was often fatigued after dialysis. Ironically, the process that kept her alive also drained her of energy.