What I've Done (Morgan Dane #4)(35)

Sharp didn’t know Haley well, but he couldn’t believe any child of Ted’s would turn out to be a killer. He squeezed Eliza’s arm. “We’re going to see her through this.”

“Thank you.” Tears welled in Eliza’s eyes. “I don’t know what I’d do without you right now.”

“That’s something you don’t have to waste a second thinking about. I’ll stick with Haley, no matter what.”

Eliza reached up to cup his jaw. “You were always such a good friend.”

Sharp covered her hand with his. “I wish I’d been there for you more over the years.”

“It was my choice to leave, Lincoln. You can’t blame yourself. I had to go. I couldn’t heal with reminders of Ted everywhere.”

“I was one of those reminders.”

Her sigh was long and deep, and she seemed to exhale sorrow. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You did what you had to do to survive. Haley was the most important consideration then. She still is.” Sharp meant every word, but sadness flared in his chest. He and Eliza shared a past and emotions only they could understand. Unfortunately, not all those feelings were healthy. Whatever remained between him and Eliza could be sorted out later. Today, he needed to focus on Haley. He dropped his hand and stepped out of her reach.

“I’m going to make coffee.” Eliza headed toward the back of the house.

Sharp followed her to the great room. The center island, a cream-colored slab of granite the size of an Escalade, divided the family room from the kitchen area. The floors were dark wood, the view spectacular.

Haley stood in the middle of the room, looking lost.

Sharp didn’t know how to comfort her any better than he did Eliza. He turned to the glass wall that faced the gorge behind the house. Below, a small patch of grass was enclosed with more wrought-iron fencing. At the rear of the yard, a bike lock secured a gate that opened to a hiking trail.

“What made you move out to the woods?”

“I was tired of the city.” Eliza scooped coffee grounds into a filter. “I love the clean air and the quiet. Being in the middle of nowhere was disconcerting at first, but the house was built with security in mind, and I had the alarm system upgraded. Now I can enjoy the solitude.”

“Do you like being alone?” Sharp asked.

“Very much so.” Eliza nodded. “I can be back in New York in a few hours, and I’m fond of traveling, but this has become home.”

She cast a worried frown at her daughter. “Haley, I’m going to make some dinner. Mac and cheese?”

“OK.” Haley hadn’t moved.

Eliza turned on the coffee machine and opened the refrigerator.

Haley lifted her foot and stared at the black monitor strapped around her ankle. “It’s heavier than I expected.”

“Whoever called it a bracelet obviously never wore one,” Sharp said.

Haley blinked at him as if coming out of a daze, and Sharp pictured a smiling infant, cooing and squealing, unaware that the people around her were mourning her father.

Eliza’s voice brought him back. “Would you like coffee?”

“No, thank you.” Sharp shook off the melancholy. He needed to be on his game. He’d promised Ted he’d look out for his family. The passage of years did not diminish his responsibility. “Do you have green tea?”

“I do. That’s what Haley drinks.” Eliza put a tea kettle on the stove, then took a foil pan from the freezer and slid it into the oven. “Do you want a cup, honey?”

The conversation seemed to pull Haley out of her daze.

Eliza gestured to an island stool. “Maybe you should drink some Gatorade?”

“You’re right.” Haley’s brow crinkled. “I’m probably dehydrated. I couldn’t drink out of that sink in the jail. The spigots were too low, and the water barely trickled out.”

How would she cope if she were sentenced to twenty-five years in prison? Sharp thought about the overwhelming amount of physical evidence against her, and his gut twisted.

Stop!

His job as Morgan’s agent was to find the cracks in the prosecutor’s case, not to determine Haley’s guilt or innocence.

Sharp’s phone buzzed with a text. “It’s Morgan. They’re here.” He and Eliza went to the front window. Sharp separated the blind slats and spotted Lance’s Jeep crawling up the road toward the gate, its slow and steady motion forcing the reporters and protesters to move out of the way. He pressed a button mounted near the front door, and the gate swung open. Lance drove up the driveway and parked in front of the house. Sharp let them inside.

Morgan was moving gingerly, and Lance was hovering, clearly worried about her.

Her head came up. “Do I smell coffee?”

“Yes. Would you like some?” Eliza asked, turning back toward the kitchen.

“Definitely,” Morgan said.

Sharp opened his mouth to comment.

Morgan blew past him. “Not today, Sharp.”

Shaking his head, Sharp returned to the two-story great room.

“Tell me about the threat,” Morgan said.

Sharp opened a laptop on the island and turned it to face Morgan. He’d read the email enough times to memorize it.

Ms. Powell,