Bones Don't Lie (Morgan Dane #3)(24)

The sheriff pulled a photo from his pocket and slid it across the table.

His mother reached forward, her fingers touching just the edges as she slid it in front of her. “She looks familiar. Is this Mary?”

“Yes,” the sheriff said. “We pulled your husband’s car from Grey Lake yesterday. I’m sorry I didn’t visit you then. Lance told me it would be better if he notified you. I also wanted to verify if the remains inside were his or not.”

“Lance told me.” Her fingers curled on the table.

Morgan took one of her hands and held it.

“But it was Mary’s skeleton that was found in the trunk of your husband’s car.” Despite his polite tone, the sheriff studied her face, waiting for a reaction.

But Lance’s mom just blinked. “I don’t understand. How did she get there? And where is Vic?” Her voice rose as confusion segued into distress.

“That’s what we want to find out, ma’am.” The sheriff tapped the photo. “The night your husband went missing, did he say anything about going to PJ’s?”

His mother shook her head. “No, he was going to the grocery store.”

“Did he have a cell phone?” the sheriff asked.

“No.” His mom’s fingers tightened on Morgan’s, the knuckles whitening. “They were expensive back then. The coverage out here was so poor, it wouldn’t have been worth the expense. But Vic would have called me from PJ’s if he was going to stop. He was good about not wanting me to worry.” She looked down and opened her grip, releasing Morgan’s hand. “I’ve always been a worrier.”

“So he was considerate,” the sheriff said.

“Vic was a good man.” A tear rolled down Jenny’s cheek.

“What did you do the night Vic went missing?” the sheriff asked.

“When Vic didn’t come home, I drove around looking for him. I called everyone I could think of, but no one had seen him.” She wiped the tear away. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know yet, but I’m going to find out,” the sheriff assured her. “You can help me by giving me as much information as possible. Did Vic go anywhere regularly except for PJ’s?”

“I don’t know.” His mother’s hands shook harder. She started picking at the skin around her fingernails.

“This is going to be a difficult question, and I’m very sorry for having to ask it,” the sheriff said, his voice gentle, even apologetic. “To your knowledge, did your husband ever have an affair?”

Anger boiled in Lance’s gut. At the same time, he understood the necessity of asking the question. So instead of punching the sheriff in the face, he gripped the table edge.

His mother’s head shook hard. “No. He would never have . . .”

The sheriff rested his forearms on the edge of the table. “Did you receive any odd phone calls or hang-ups?”

“No,” Jenny whispered.

“How much time did he spend at PJ’s?” the sheriff asked.

Jenny ripped a piece of skin from her finger. Blood welled. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.” She repeated the phrase in a monotone, almost under her breath.

The sheriff leaned back. His eyes flickered to Lance in question.

“That’s enough, Sheriff. My mother has had a great shock.” Lance stepped forward, but Morgan already had her arms wrapped around his mother’s shoulders, and his mom was leaning into her.

The sheriff got up, and Lance led him toward the door. They stepped out onto the front stoop.

“Thank you for being considerate with her.” Lance pulled the door closed behind them.

King nodded. “It wasn’t something I wanted to do at all.”

“Since you gave us Mary’s name, I assume you’ve notified her family?”

“This morning.” The sheriff nodded and blinked away. For a second—no longer—regret crossed King’s face. Lance had done death notifications in his years on the police force, mostly after car accidents. Telling someone their loved one had died was one of the worst duties a police officer performed.

But the lapse in iron control only last a moment. The sheriff’s jaw tightened, and all traces of vulnerability disappeared. “I’ll need to talk with your mother again.”

“If she’s up to it.” Lance’s mother came first, the investigation second. “As much as I want to find out what happened to my dad, I won’t sacrifice my mother for answers to something that was over more than twenty years ago.”

Every secret exposed required sacrifice. The only question was who was doing the sacrificing. Unless his mother was under arrest, she had no legal requirement to speak to King, though she would cooperate. She wanted answers. But could she afford to pay the price?

“I understand your concern.” The sheriff jammed his hat on his head. “But this is a murder investigation. Mary Fox and her family deserve just as much respect as yours.”

Lance had nothing to say. The sheriff was right.

Sheriff King got into his vehicle and backed out of the driveway.

Lance closed the door and returned to the kitchen. Mom was still in Morgan’s arms. He crouched in front of them. “Mom? Are you OK?”

She drew in a quivering breath, then straightened. “Don’t blame the sheriff. He’s doing his job, asking questions that need to be asked.” His mother swiped a hand beneath her eye to catch a tear. “I can’t believe Vic would have cheated on me.” His mother’s gaze shifted to the kitchen window, but her focus was inward. “He loved me.”