Secrets Never Die (Morgan Dane #5)(43)

“It enables you to be mobile.” Morgan sat across from him. “You like to go places, right?”

“Yeah, but it makes me look old.” He lifted a blue-veined hand. “I know. I am old.”

“Old is a state of mind. You’re wise, not old.”

“I’m wise, all right. A wiseass.” He chuckled at his own joke.

Morgan hated to see him aging. She refused to think about a day when he was no longer with her. Grandpa had raised her after her NYPD police officer father had been killed in the line of duty and her mother had died a short time later. After her husband had died in Iraq, Morgan and her three little girls had moved back home to live with Grandpa. She didn’t know how she would have survived all three tragedies without him.

“I’ll make breakfast.” Morgan reached for the oatmeal, intending to nuke him a bowl.

“Don’t make any of that slop for me.” Grandpa drank his coffee. “I’ll wait for Gianna to make waffles for the girls.”

“Oatmeal is better for your blood pressure and cholesterol than toaster waffles and syrup.” Morgan gave up with a single nag. He was going to do what he was going to do.

“Once you pass eighty, you get to eat whatever you want. It’s a rule.” Grandpa grinned. “From now on, I’m eating dessert first.”

And with that, Morgan decided to stop for donuts on the way to the office.

“You worked late last night,” Grandpa said. “Any ideas of where to look for the boy?”

“No.” After getting home the previous night, she and Lance had phone-conferenced with Sharp. Then Morgan and Lance had reviewed Evan’s cell phone records, email accounts, and online activity. “Evan didn’t use much social media. He rarely posted anything except an occasional hockey game selfie. There was no unusual or new friend activity that we could find. His emails were school related, and he hadn’t responded to most of those.”

“Which says something about his general attitude toward school.”

“Definitely. Evan recently changed schools. He wasn’t happy about the move.”

“It’s rough to change schools at that age. What about his text history? Kids these days live on their cell phones.” Grandpa hadn’t forgotten anything about being a detective. His body might be failing, but his mind was still as sharp as his tongue.

“Texts back and forth from a very few friends, all ordinary stuff. There were some phone calls with a girlfriend his mother didn’t know about. We tried to interview her. She wouldn’t talk.”

Grandpa scratched his chin. At six thirty in the morning, he’d already shaved and dressed in navy slacks and a pale-blue polo shirt. “It’s not unusual for a boy to keep a relationship with a girl private for a while. Teenagers like to keep secrets. Makes them feel like they have some control over their lives. Most of the time, it’s just stupid stuff. But you should definitely try to find a way to get the girlfriend to talk. I bet he told her things that he wouldn’t tell his buddies.”

Lance walked in, wearing his usual uniform of tactical cargos and a T-shirt.

Morgan kissed him on the mouth. “I was telling Grandpa about Evan’s case.”

He poured coffee and drank it black. He turned to Grandpa. “Any suggestions?”

But their conversation was cut short as Morgan’s three little girls raced into the dining room. Ava, age six, was wide awake and already dressed. Five-year-old Mia hugged her blanket to her face, climbed up on Grandpa’s lap, and leaned her sleepy head on his chest. Sophie bounded into the room in her purple kitten pajamas. As usual, the three-year-old’s hair was an impressive mass of tangles. Morgan combed it thoroughly every night, but every morning, it looked like she’d slept in a tornado.

Sophie catapulted herself into Lance’s arms. Expecting her affectionate attack, he caught her. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and kissed his cheek. “You smell good.”

Morgan agreed.

Gianna, their nanny, was right behind the girls, and everyone settled into the chaotic but familiar morning routine. Fidgety as usual, Sophie picked at her toaster waffles. Morgan’s wiry daughter seemed to exist on a forkful of food per meal.

After the girls were fed and dressed, Lance walked Ava and Mia to the bus stop while Morgan saw Grandpa, Sophie, and Gianna off. Since it was Wednesday, Grandpa would drive Sophie to preschool and drop Gianna at dialysis. Morgan returned to the bedroom to prepare to leave. She wound her hair into a neat bun, turning as Lance walked into the bedroom, his face grim.

Morgan shoved a hairpin into her bun. “What happened?”

“I just called Steve Duncan.”

“You didn’t tell him you searched his farm last night, did you?” Morgan did not want to bail Lance out of jail later.

“I left that part out of my story, but I did tell him I drove by the farm last night and saw someone watching the house. I told him he and Jake should be extra careful. Then I called Jake and told him the same. They needed to know.”

“I hope they heed the warning.” Morgan finished putting her hair up. Leaning close to the mirror over the dresser, she swiped mascara onto her lashes.

Lance’s phone chimed with a reminder. “Grant will be here this morning to finish the demolition.”

The dogs exploded in a frenzy of barking and raced for the front of the house, cutting off Morgan’s response.