Secrets Never Die (Morgan Dane #5)(27)

Tina sagged against Morgan and began to weep with relief.

As glad as Lance was that the body was not Evan’s, a young man had been viciously murdered. Another mother would soon be weeping with grief.

At the sound of the sheriff’s voice, Lance glanced back into the corridor. Colgate was on his phone. He saw Lance watching him, turned, and walked farther away. A few minutes later, he lowered his phone and walked toward the conference room.

Lance met him halfway down the hall. “Just because this isn’t Evan doesn’t mean this murder isn’t related to Paul’s death.”

The sheriff paused, his face confused, maybe even a little irritated. “Why would you say that?”

“The body in the morgue looked very much like Evan, and he was killed in the same way as Paul,” Lance pointed out.

“Not exactly. Why don’t we wait until the body is identified before we make any associations?” The sheriff brushed past him and continued to the conference room. He avoided eye contact with Morgan as he entered the room.

“Mrs. Knox?” The sheriff stood in front of her. “I’m so sorry for putting you through this. I wish I hadn’t had to.”

She looked up at him with red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes. “I know, but now what? Has everyone stopped looking for Evan?”

“No, ma’am. I have every available man on the case.” He glanced at his watch. “I’d like you to come down with me to the station and answer a few questions. I’ve just gotten some information we need to discuss before the press conference I’ve scheduled for tomorrow morning.”

Lance glanced at Morgan. Her eyebrow was up, and clearly, so were her suspicions.

“We’ll bring her to the station,” Morgan said.

“There’s no need.” The sheriff narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m headed there anyway.”

But Morgan clearly wasn’t going to cede control. The police could not force anyone to answer questions. “I insist. Mrs. Knox has a right to have an attorney present during questioning.”

The sheriff’s jaw shifted, as if he were grinding his teeth. “She’s not under arrest. We just want to talk to her.”

“Then you’ve completely cleared her?” Morgan asked.

The sheriff said, “We’ve confirmed that she was working until after one o’clock.”

Which wasn’t exactly a yes. Morgan stood. “Lance and I will bring Mrs. Knox to the station.”

The sheriff was up to something. Lance knew it. But what?





Chapter Ten

Evan’s body jerked. A blast of pain jolted him awake. His pulse hammered in his ears. He tried to scream, but his throat was too dry to emit anything other than a croak.

He forced his crusty eyelids to separate. Sunshine seared his eyeballs in a blurry haze of light. His body rocked, and agony radiated from his arm. His empty belly roiled. He closed his eyes, swallowed, and waited for the sick feeling to pass. When he no longer felt as if he were going to puke, he tried again.

He opened his eyes and turned his head from side to side. He was lying in the bottom of a canoe. The overcast sky made it difficult to estimate the time. A few inches of water had accumulated in the aluminum bottom. His jeans and sneakers were soaked. Since he’d tied his T-shirt around his arm to stop the bleeding, he was shirtless.

His flight the night before rushed back to him. Images and sensations flooded him as if he were right there, experiencing the night all over again. He forced the slideshow to cut off.

Paul was dead.

His eyes had been empty, staring at the ceiling. No life left inside.

Evan remembered the very last words he’d said to Paul. I wish you’d never married my mother. Those were words he could never take back, as much as he wanted to—mostly because they weren’t true. He was ashamed that they’d come out of his mouth. When he spent time with Kirk, he turned into his father, as if douchebaggery were contagious.

His stomach turned again, nausea compounding his misery. Tears pressed against the backs of his eyes. He fought them back. He couldn’t afford to lose it, not if he were going to survive.

Not that he was even sure he wanted to live. Did he deserve to?

He shoved the memory away. Pain, throbbing and hot, brought his attention back to the present. He’d been freezing all night, but the morning was heating up fast—and so was he.

He was dehydrated, and he needed to do something more with his wound than tie a T-shirt around his arm. The canoe shook, startling him.

He lifted his head and looked over the edge. The canoe was caught on something in the center of a river or creek, maybe the Deer River. Brown water bubbled white, eddying around rocks. Where was he? The storm had been wild. He’d been swept out of the lake, but he had no idea where the water had carried him. Remembering the torrential rain, thunder, and wicked streaks of lightning, he was surprised he hadn’t drowned.

Something buzzed near his ear, and Evan startled. A dragonfly cruised past his head. Its long, slim body hovered over the water next to the canoe. Bulbous eyes seemed to stare at Evan for a minute before it zoomed away. He’d better get moving too.

He sat up. The shoreline was thickly wooded, and the river was clearly swollen from the heavy rain. It ran all the way to the top of the bank. Water rushed past his canoe at a speed he’d never seen in the area before. He could hear it roaring downriver. If this was the Deer River, where he and Paul had camped, it looked nothing like the waterway had just a few weeks ago.