What I've Done (Morgan Dane #4)(60)

He’d spent the entire afternoon reviewing the surveillance footage. He rubbed his aching eyes and followed Morgan back to her office. She went to the whiteboard, picked up the marker, and wrote under Kieran’s photo. Where was Kieran until four a.m. Saturday?

“If we can get him to agree to another interview, we can ask him,” Morgan said. “But this is the type of question that will prompt him to turn us away, phone his personal attorney, and file a harassment claim. The only reason he consented to the first interview is that he thinks he is smarter than everyone else.” Morgan stood back and stared at the board. “I don’t want him to completely shut down on us yet. There might be more information we can get out of him. For now, just add the new information to our files.”

“If we ask him, he’s going to lie, so it’s pointless to tick him off,” Lance agreed.

Morgan got up and set her mug on her coffee machine. “Kieran has no alibi yet. He said he went for a drive. Who else has no alibi?”

Sharp stared at the whiteboard. “Piper was home alone.”

Morgan added a pod to the machine and pressed “Brew.” “Haley had hurt her feelings, Piper was jealous of Noah, and she was anxious when we interviewed her. Do we have any other suspects?”

“Adam?” Sharp suggested. “We know the boy has a temper. He planned that attack on Morgan.”

“Would he kill his own brother?” Morgan asked.

“He might not be stable or rational.” Rubbing his stubbled chin, Sharp studied the board.

“Haley has received more than a dozen additional email threats.” Morgan lifted her cup from the machine and sniffed her coffee as if the aroma alone would perk her up. “Where do we stand on tracing those? The sheriff promised to look into them, but I have more faith in Lance’s mother.”

“Jenny hasn’t had any luck tracing the email threats or identifying the source of that GIF of McFarland punching you.”

“If they can be traced, Jenny will do it.” Morgan rubbed her eyes. “On the bright side, we’ve found no motivation for Haley to kill Noah. She has no history of violence. She even said she liked him. Ordinary, law-abiding people don’t murder people without good reason.”

“I know, but I’m afraid I’m not objective. I want her to be innocent so badly that I’m afraid I’ll see clues where there aren’t any.”

“You don’t have to be objective in this case. The evidence doesn’t add up to the prosecutor’s equation.”

“No, it doesn’t. Unless Haley suffers from a previously undiagnosed mental illness.” Sharp’s phone rang. “It’s Eliza.”

He took the call.

“We have an incident going on here.” Eliza sounded worried. “I thought you’d want to know.”

“What happened?” Sharp asked.

“One of the protesters climbed the gate. So far, he’s just shouting nasty things from the front lawn, but I’ve called the sheriff’s department. They’re sending a deputy.”

“What are the rest of the protesters doing?”

“Milling around behind the gate,” Eliza said. “They don’t seem to have a plan.”

“I’m on my way.” Sharp went into his office. “Do you want to stay on the phone?”

“No. I’m sure everything will be all right.” But her voice wavered. “The security guard is here.”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Call me back if anything changes.” Sharp ended the call and relayed the incident to Morgan and Lance. Then he went to the safe in his office and took out his sidearm.

“We’re going with you,” Lance said.

“Thanks.” Sharp grabbed his jacket. “Though the deputy should get there first.”

And hopefully remove the protesters before the situation escalated.

Worried, he drove out of town and took the exit to Route 47. Lance and Morgan followed right behind him in the Jeep. Sharp pushed his Prius hard and cut the drive down to seventeen minutes. When he reached Eliza’s driveway, there wasn’t a cop in sight.

Where was the sheriff’s department?

The crowd of protesters waved signs and yelled, but they moved aside as Sharp drove up to the gate. He didn’t stop, so they didn’t have much of a choice. Eliza must have been watching, because the gate opened before he pressed the intercom button. Sharp drove through the opening. In his rearview mirror, he watched Lance’s Jeep follow him. The gate closed behind them.

The figure on Eliza’s front lawn was the lean shape of a young man. He stood a few yards shy of the porch, shouting through a bullhorn. “I know you’re in there, Haley Powell. You’re a murderess. A killer. You’re going to burn in hell for your sins.”

Two more men were running up the driveway toward the house. One held a baseball bat. The other waved a section of pipe. They must have followed their buddy over the fence. Sharp parked his car and got out as the two newcomers rushed up the front lawn toward the front porch. The man with the pipe outran his pal and leaped onto the porch.

Sharp jumped out of his car and ran toward the house. He heard Lance’s vehicle door close. Sharp ran every day, but Lance was twenty years younger. It was no surprise when, a few heartbeats later, Lance blew past him and took the three steps to the front porch in one huge stride. Mr. Pipe raised his weapon over his shoulder, ready to swing at the front window.