Bones Don't Lie (Morgan Dane #3)(62)

“In case I didn’t say it enough last night, I love you.” She lifted the machine from the shelf.

He leaned over and kissed her. “I love you too. You have no idea how much.”

“You showed me with coffee.” She put the machine on the counter, set it up, and pressed start. “Way better than diamonds.”

“I’ll remember that.” Lance poured the eggs into the pan.

The doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it.” Morgan went to the foyer and peeked through the narrow window next to the door. She called over her shoulder as she opened the door, “It’s Sharp.”

Sharp breezed in the door. “How is he?”

“Hanging in.” Morgan led the way back to the kitchen. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m all right.” But Sharp moved stiffly and held his arm close to his body.

“Hungry?” Lance asked Sharp. “The eggs are organic.”

“No, thanks.” Sharp shook his head. “I have good news for you.”

Frowning, Lance stirred the eggs. “About what?”

“I asked Stella and Brody to look over your mother’s house last night,” Sharp said.

“Why?” Lance transferred the eggs to two plates. He handed one to Morgan and picked up a fork.

Sharp leaned on the counter. Dark circles underscored his eyes. He’d clearly been up all night. “Because I don’t think she tried to kill herself.”

Lance paused, a forkful of eggs halfway to his mouth. “I’m almost afraid to ask why you think that.”

Sharp explained what he and Stella and Brody had found the night before. “Someone was in your mother’s house yesterday.”

Morgan didn’t know whether she should be relieved. Was it better if someone had tried to kill Jenny or if she’d done it herself?

“She would never let a stranger in.” Lance set down his fork, his food untouched.

“I know,” Sharp said. “Brody said he’d try to have the tests expedited. He’ll also ask the doctors to run a full drug panel on your mom. How soon did they say until you can talk to her?”

“The critical care doctor estimates about forty-eight hours,” Lance said. “I spoke to the nurse earlier this morning. There’s been no change in her condition.”

“I’m glad she’s in ICU,” Sharp said. “The regular floors are too accessible.”

A chill zipped across Morgan’s skin. “She shouldn’t be alone.”

“I have to stay with her.” Lance dumped his plate on the counter and moved toward the kitchen doorway. “If someone tried to kill her, there must be a reason, which means they’ll try again when they learn they weren’t successful.”

Sharp raised a stop hand and stepped in front of Lance, blocking his path. “I’ve already got your mom covered. Brody’s girl, Hannah, is already in the ICU, sitting by your mom’s bed.”

“Hannah Barrett?” Lance tried to get around him.

“That’s Mac’s sister,” Morgan said. “I would trust her.”

“Yes. Brody says Hannah can handle it.” Sharp put a hand on Lance’s shoulder. “We need to find out who did this. That’s the only way your mom is ever going to be safe.”

“You’re right, but where do we go from here?” Lance rubbed his eyes. “Nothing makes sense.”

“But we’re clearly making someone nervous,” Sharp pointed out. “Let’s see if we can poke a few more badgers. I’d like to look at your mother’s recent e-mail and phone activity. I can’t imagine her just opening the door to a stranger.”

“Unless they called her first,” Lance finished the thought. “I just gave that information to the sheriff. I’ll write her account log-ins down for you.”

“I have to get dressed.” Morgan turned toward the bedroom. “I wish we could confirm Crystal’s death wasn’t a suicide. I’d like more evidence than our gut feelings.”

“This is when not being a cop makes the job tough.” Sharp pushed off the counter and paced in a circle. “The official autopsy results might not be issued for months.”

“We need to go through the pictures again and see if anything jumps out at us,” Morgan said.

“We’ve already looked at them.” Sharp shook his head. “What we really need is someone who has seen more homicide scenes than the three of us. My experience is more all-purpose detective. I’ve only seen a few hangings. But who can we trust with pictures we shouldn’t have? Do you think your grandfather would be willing to help?”

“I’m sure he would,” Morgan said. “He has much more experience working homicides than all of us put together. I’ll call him.”

“Call him from the Jeep,” Lance said.

“Give me two minutes.” Morgan hurried to the bedroom and dressed in the old jeans and T-shirt she’d been wearing the night before. She used the second minute to brush her teeth.

She walked out of the bedroom, and Lance grabbed his keys from the counter. “Let’s go.”

“I’ll meet you at the office,” Sharp said. “Your grandfather and I can review the photos.”