Save Your Breath (Morgan Dane #6)(39)

Morgan put a finger to her lips and pointed. The door to Sharp’s office was open. He was still asleep. Lance figured he’d be awake in another ten minutes.

He followed Morgan into her office. “How were the kids?”

“Fine. You were right. I feel recharged.” She set her tote on her desk. “Grandpa is reviewing the Franklin files. I’m still plugging away at the Olander material, and I’m meeting with Esposito at noon.”

It didn’t surprise Lance the ADA would be in his office on a Saturday. For the prosecutor, weekends were often used to prepare and review for trials.

“Good luck with that.” Lance held on to his opinion that the ADA was an asshole.

Morgan was a softie. A few months back, Esposito had showed a few signs that he could be a decent human being, and she was ready to believe in him. But then, believing in people is what made her a great defense attorney. Lance knew she’d been a successful prosecutor but suspected she was even better on the defense side of the courtroom.

Lance collected clothes from his office and took a two-minute shower, not bothering to shave. Dressed in clean cargos and a long-sleeve T-shirt, he went back into his office. His phone beeped, and he read a text message from his mother. She wanted to video chat.

He dropped into the chair behind his desk, opened the app on his laptop, and called her. She accepted the call, and her face appeared on the phone screen. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hello, dear.” She was in her office, as usual. Lance’s mother still lived in the same house in which he’d grown up. Her mental illness had likely always been present, but after his father had vanished when Lance was ten, Jenny Kruger had withdrawn from the world.

On the screen, she smiled sadly. “I’m so sorry to hear about Olivia.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Lance angled the screen to see her better.

Stress and time had not been kind to his mom. She looked older than sixty-one. But since she’d started virtually dating a man from her group therapy session, her eyes—and outlook—seemed brighter. Today, her gray hair was combed, clean, and almost shiny, and she was wearing lipstick. She must have been video chatting with her manfriend, Kevin. Before Kevin, Lance had never seen his mother wear makeup. Kevin worked in computers and had many of the same anxiety issues as Jenny. Their relationship made her happy, and that was all that mattered to Lance.

“I haven’t finished with the background reports yet,” she said. His mom taught online computer classes and designed, maintained, and secured websites. She also helped with the online legwork in some of their more complex cases. “But I wanted to give you an update.” She opened a file. “I’ve been working on Olivia’s investigative pieces. I found several articles exposing people of criminal wrongdoings. In the past ten years, Olivia’s stories directly resulted in three people going to prison. According to the New York State Department of Corrections online inmate lookup, two are still in prison. The third was released six years ago.”

“Who is he?”

“A contractor convicted of grand larceny. He defrauded homeowners, mostly senior citizens, out of more than ninety thousand dollars. He served eighteen months in prison. He promised he would get even with Olivia.”

“Sounds like a possible suspect.”

“Except that he was released six years ago and moved to Oregon. He posted photos of himself in Oregon yesterday.”

“Then he’s probably a dead end.”

“I’ll email you the details. Expect the rest of the reports later today,” his mom said. “Also, I have not found a black or dark-blue 1971 Chevy Nova in Scarlet Falls or the surrounding towns. I’m expanding the search. Is it possible he had the year or color wrong?”

“He seemed sure.” But it had been dark, and Bob’s eyes were not young. “Maybe expand your search to other dark colors.”

“OK. I checked out both Olivia’s agent and editor and found no criminal records for either of them in the tristate area.”

Private investigators did not have access to the same national criminal databases that law enforcement used. They had to piece together background checks from county and state records.

“What about Cliff Franklin?” Lance asked.

“You know he was an auto mechanic before he went to prison,” his mom said. “But in addition to working at a local auto shop, he also had his own business, specializing in antique car restoration.”

“Could that be related to the sighting of the ’71 Nova?” Lance thought aloud.

“I can’t find a link. Neither Cliff nor his brother, Joe, has a Nova registered to him.”

“The vehicle could be unregistered.”

“True,” his mom agreed.

“No wives or exes?” Lance asked.

“None,” Jenny answered. “He operated his side business at his brother’s place.”

“Joe Franklin?”

“Yes. Joe is a game developer. He owns a company called JF, Inc. No criminal record. No civil suits. No marriages or divorces. No current social media activity. Almost every hit in my search results is from before his brother was accused of murder. Joe seems to have gone off the radar after his brother’s arrest. He did not give a single interview after the trial.”

“The media attention must have been brutal.”