Bones Don't Lie (Morgan Dane #3)(17)

“No, ma’am.” The deputy pointed toward the camera mounted on a street lamp. “The camera is covered in foam. From the smell of it, I suspect it’s hornet spray.”

Morgan walked to the pole and squinted up at the camera. She sniffed, catching the whiff of insecticide. “Clever. You can shoot that from twenty feet away.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the deputy said. “It sticks real well too, so it completely covered the lens. Maybe we’ll get a hit on the fingerprints I took from your van.”

Morgan expected the prints he’d found to be hers. Anyone smart enough to cover a surveillance camera with hornet foam wouldn’t leave fingerprints.

“You’ll check on Tyler Green’s whereabouts?” she asked.

“I spoke to Sheriff King,” the deputy answered. “He said he’ll bring Tyler in for a talk. A copy of the incident report will be available in a few days.” The deputy handed her a business card.

“Thank you.” Morgan stowed the card in her tote and turned back to her family. The kids were hanging on Mac. Her sister had gotten lucky with him. He was a good man.

The tow truck pulled into the lot, and she stopped to issue the driver instructions. Then she checked the van for personal belongings before getting into Mac’s SUV.

Exhausted from the morning, she nearly fell asleep on the drive home. Once the kids were settled in the kitchen with Mac, Morgan took a shower and dressed in a suit. She needed to visit the courthouse later. But not even a hot shower and fresh clothes could completely wipe away the skeevy feeling. She took her handgun from its safe and fastened it to her belt before heading toward the office in her grandfather’s Lincoln Town Car.

What kind of person would pour animal blood in her van?

She reminded herself that Tyler Green had beaten his wife, hidden from process servers, and tried to strangle Morgan. Filling her car seat with blood was hardly a stretch for him.

A donut shop on Third Street caught her attention as she drove past. Thanks to her stalker, a simple visit to the cemetery had consumed her entire morning. It was almost lunchtime. Her crappy morning and a dull headache called for a sugar-and-caffeine fix. She went through the drive-through, then continued on to the office. Juggling her coffee, the bakery bag, and her tote, she unlocked the front door of Sharp Investigations. After the emotional storm of the morning, the quiet building was bliss. A general weariness nagged at her muscles.

She went into her office, dropping off her briefcase and coat, before checking out the kitchen. Empty. She settled behind her desk with her coffee at her elbow and opened the bakery bag. The scent of warm glazed donuts wafted to her nose. She sighed and ate the first one in three bites, washing it down with coffee. Fortified, she checked her e-mail and took her time with her second donut.

Footsteps in the hallway announced Sharp’s arrival. He appeared in her doorway. Taking one look at him, she couldn’t argue with the all-organic, mostly plant-based diet he attempted to foist on everyone around him. At fifty-three, the only signs of Sharp’s age were his short salt-and-pepper hair and the crow’s-feet gathered around his seen-it-all gray eyes. His lean runner’s body wore jeans and an oxford shirt better than most men half his age.

He glanced at the white bag on her desk. “I’m not even going to ask what you ate today.”

“That’s probably best.” Morgan licked the sugar from her fingertips.

“You eat enough sugar to give an elephant diabetes.” His gaze lingered on her face, which was probably red and puffy. “Is everything all right?”

Where to even start?

“It’s John’s birthday.” She fought a tear as she told him about the morning. Now that the incident was over, and her girls were safe at home with Mac, her self-control felt shaky.

Or perhaps Sharp was right, and she needed to cut back on the caffeine.

She thought about the third donut but decided Sharp would probably have a stroke if she ate it in front of him. Also, he was probably right about the sugar making her feel worse. Her sugar high was fading, leaving her queasy. “Whoever decided to suspend a spare tire underneath a vehicle should be flogged, and someone is harassing me. All in all, it was not the best of mornings.”

And she still wanted the donut.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You OK?”

“Yes,” she said. “As frightening as the morning’s incidents were, now that I know there’s a threat, I can take steps to protect my family.”

And the grief that had crushed her at the cemetery had ebbed. She would miss John forever, and she would always be sad that he’d been taken from her and the girls. At every milestone, those feelings would resurface. But they wouldn’t suck her under again. She wouldn’t—couldn’t—let them.

“Do you want to go looking for Tyler Green?” Sharp asked, his gray eyes narrowing, suggesting he’d love nothing more.

Morgan shook her head. “We have no evidence that it’s him, and he’s smart enough to file a harassment suit if we follow him around. The sheriff’s department will handle it, and either Mac or Stella will stay at the house when I’m not there, so the family is covered.”

Sharp nodded. “And I want me or Lance with you at all times until this stalker is caught.”

“All right.” Morgan was independent not stupid.