Bones Don't Lie (Morgan Dane #3)(96)



Sharp rolled his eyes, walked to the bedside, and set the shake on the nightstand. “You need nutrients.”

“I just woke up,” Lance grumbled.

“I made breakfast for you too.” Sharp speared Morgan with a direct gaze. “Don’t you dare dig in to those donuts I saw in the kitchen. You’re not in as serious condition as Lance, but your body has some repairs to make too.”

She sighed. She’d really been looking forward to one of those donuts and a vat of coffee.

“How’s your arm?” she asked Sharp.

“Starting to heal, thank you.” He handed Lance the shake with a short speech about vitamins, amino acids, protein, and anti-inflammatory compounds.

“I believe you. I’m drinking.” Lance accepted the shake and took a long swallow. “What happened to your hand?”

Sharp poked at a bandage on his finger. “I went to pick up that little dog at the vet this morning. She bit me. The vet said it seems the dog hates men.”

“Oh, no,” Morgan said. “I’ll bet Warren Fox had something to do with that.”

“Speaking of Warren,” Sharp said, “he’s fine. He was passed out drunk when you knocked on his door. He’d run his vehicle into a ditch a half mile from his house and stumbled home.”

“At least he isn’t dead,” Morgan said. “What are we going to do with the dog? I can’t have a dog that bites. I have three kids.” But she’d never take the dog to the shelter.

“No worries. I already found her a home. I took her to Natalie Leed’s house. When I told Natalie the dog was homeless and hated men, she said that was perfect. So did she, at the moment. It was love at first sight.” Sharp grinned. “Oh, and guess what Stan Adam’s has been hiding? A gambling problem.”

“How do you know?” Lance raised the glass.

“He was arrested this morning,” Sharp said. “That problem at his firm wasn’t a request from a client. It was missing money. Stan has been borrowing from the firm to pay his debts. Apparently, his partner has had him under investigation for a while.”

“I wonder how long that’s been going on, or whether it has anything to do with Stan’s refusal to say where he really was the night my dad went missing.” Lance drank.

Sharp shrugged. “I doubt he’ll say now that he’s lawyered up.”

Watching Sharp fuss over Lance, Morgan turned toward the door. “I’ll get you an ice pack.”

Sophie bolted past. Morgan tried to grab her, but the child was wiry and quick. She launched herself onto the bed. She made no attempt to touch him, but the mattress rocked. Lance’s face turned pale.

Morgan hurried back to the bed, reaching for Sophie, but Lance shook his head. “I’ve got her.”

He set the shake down and put both hands around Sophie’s waist to stop her movements.

Sophie’s eyes widened as she stared at his bruised chest.

“It looks worse than it is,” he said.

“It wooks wike it hurts.” She leaned forward and kissed the darkest, largest bruise across his ribs.

His face went whiter, and his eyes looked like they were going to roll back in his head as her lips touched the skin over his fractured bones. Sophie leaned back and folded her legs under her body with a little bounce.

“Oh, honey.” Morgan winced. “Lance needs to rest. Don’t—”

Lance held up a hand. Despite the paleness of his face, his eyes were misty. “She’s fine. I need to get up anyway.”

“But you don’t need to be catapulted to your feet,” Morgan said. “Sophie, did you get a donut?”

The little girl turned and frowned at Morgan. “I want to stay wif Wance.”

“How about I come into the kitchen?” Lance suggested.

Sophie eyed his injuries with a dubious expression, as if she didn’t believe he could or should be getting up, but she agreed. “OK.”

Sharp lifted her off the bed, clearly trying to stave off another trampoline session. He set her on the floor, and she darted out of the room.

“I’ll go make some vegetable omelets,” Sharp said. “When you’re up to it, Stella has business to discuss with you both.”

Sharp had phoned to tell them about King’s suicide while they were in the ER. Morgan had not been surprised. The only rules King had followed were his own.

When they’d been discharged from the hospital, Morgan had stayed with Lance to keep an eye on him. He’d insisted he was all right, but she hadn’t wanted him to be alone. They’d fallen asleep as soon as they’d gotten back to his house. Morgan had kept one hand on his body all night long, as if she needed to be continuously reassured that he was safe and whole.

“Did the state police find anything at King’s cabin?” By anything, Lance clearly meant remains.

Sharp said, “The forensics team was still searching the cabin. In light of Vic’s body still being missing, I suggested they bring in a cadaver dog. I’ll bet your dad isn’t far from the lake.”

But they still didn’t know why Vic had died. Would they ever? After all they’d been through, Lance and his mother deserved closure.

“I want to go out there,” Lance said, obviously feeling the same way. “And I need to visit my mother.”

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