Save Your Breath (Morgan Dane #6)(25)

“I think I’m getting a cold.” Gianna washed two Tylenol tablets down with water. “A bunch of kids in Ava’s class are sick.”

“The back-to-school virus. Maybe you should go to the doctor tomorrow,” Morgan suggested.

“It’s just a cold.” Gianna went back to bed.

Morgan and Lance walked back to their bedroom together. Lance doubled his pillows and lay down, his hands clasped behind his head. Exhausted but also restless, Morgan changed into pajamas, washed her face, and brushed her teeth.

She climbed into bed beside him and told him about her evening visit with the Cruz family. “It’s heartbreaking. They’re so scared.”

“So is Sharp.” He pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and kissing the top of her head. She rested her head on his chest. He turned off the light.

Morgan listened to his heartbeat and closed her eyes, but sleep did not come. Twenty minutes later, she shifted position, restless.

“Can’t sleep?” Lance whispered.

“No.” She sat up.

“Me either.” He turned on the light. “Did Sharp say where he was going after he dropped you off?”

“To Olivia’s.” Morgan checked the time on her phone. Eleven thirty. “He’s probably still there.”

Lance reached for a pair of pants on the bedside chair. “Let’s go.”





Chapter Eleven

Sharp stood in the middle of Olivia’s kitchen. He pictured her standing at the island, chopping homegrown herbs and drinking a glass of red wine. For a quiet evening at home, she’d wear worn jeans or yoga pants. Her hair would be up in a ponytail. She’d look up at him as he came into the room. Her face would brighten. She’d smile, and his step would lighten.

He could see her in front of him as if she were there. But the image faded too quickly. Bowled over by a rush of emotions that bombarded him faster than he could identify them, his chest tightened and he lost his breath. When the onslaught of emotions ended, he was left with only two: love and fear, intertwined like a Celtic knot.

Bowing his head, he hooked a hand around the back of his neck.

She couldn’t be gone. Their relationship was just getting off the ground. Missing her was a force, a pressure within his body that he wouldn’t have suspected existed yesterday.

Why did it take losing someone to make one appreciate them?

He had to find her. She’d only recently entered his life, but in a few short months, she’d become the first person he called when he received important news, good or bad. He enjoyed her quick wit, her clever banter, and the way she took absolutely zero shit from anyone, including—maybe especially—him. She was brilliant, often several steps ahead of him in any conversation. If he had vanished, she would have figured it out immediately.

He couldn’t imagine life without her.

Did she leave in the middle of the night to pursue a story for her next book?

She was a reporter. But no one had called her, either on her home phone or her cell, so the outing would have been planned. Olivia had plenty of street smarts. He couldn’t believe she would go somewhere dangerous without taking minimal safety precautions. She would have told someone where she was going, or she would have left a note. She’d been in the crime reporting business for twenty-five years. She took calculated risks for her job, not stupid ones.

Olivia’s call the night before played in his mind. She had wanted to talk to the three of them about a conflict she was having over her research. Was the issue with her research related to her disappearance?

A car engine sounded from outside. Sharp whirled and strode down the hall to the front door. Through the narrow panes of glass next to the door, he saw headlights approaching. His heart broke into a gallop.

Olivia?

The vehicle came closer and drove under the streetlight. Lance’s Jeep pulled to the curb. Disappointment washed over Sharp. The space behind his ribs felt hollow, and his heart hurt. He rubbed his sternum.

Lance and Morgan climbed out of the SUV and walked to the door. Sharp let them inside. Lance was carrying a plastic shopping bag. He reached inside and pulled out a rubber mask. Without a word, he held it out.

Sharp took it, turning it over in his hands. “This looks like the scrap of rubber we found next to Olivia’s bed.”

“That’s what we thought,” Lance said.

“Was Olivia planning to attend a costume party for Halloween?” Morgan asked.

“She didn’t mention one to me. We usually compare calendars, but Halloween is still six weeks away.”

“We’ll double-check her calendar,” Morgan said. “But I didn’t see any other parts of a costume when we searched the house earlier.”

“How hard is this to rip?” Sharp tested the mask, digging his fingers into the rubber and pulling. The material tore. He twisted and a square of rubber broke free. “That answers that question.” He stared at the rubber, dread gathering in his gut. “It seems to me we can eliminate the possibility that she left on her own.”

“Someone took her,” Morgan said quietly.

“But how?” Sharp turned to the house again, trying to reconstruct Olivia’s evening in light of this new disturbing clue. “Her security panel showed her disarming the system when she arrived home at about ten o’clock. Two minutes later, the system was reset using the At Home setting. Then at 2:13 a.m., the system was disarmed again and reactivated in Away mode.”