What I've Done (Morgan Dane #4)(12)

“Let’s get you home.”

Morgan was going to spend the rest of the day snuggling with her girls on her couch in her pajamas. She returned the pill bottle to her tote. Inside the bag, her phone vibrated. She reached for it. She hadn’t checked her messages since they’d left the courthouse.

“You don’t have to answer that.” Lance frowned.

“It’s Sharp.” Morgan took the call. “We’re in the Jeep. You’re on speaker.”

“Are you finished with McFarland for the day?” Sharp asked. “I have an urgent case for you.”

“I’m definitely finished with McFarland,” Morgan said. “What’s going on?”

“A young woman named Haley Powell is being held at the sheriff’s station. They’ve had her since Saturday afternoon, So they’ve been holding her for almost two days.” Sharp detailed Haley’s medical condition and her case in a few sentences, then his voice thickened. “I’d consider this a personal favor. Her mother and I go way back.”

“I’m on my way to the sheriff’s station now,” Morgan said, even though all she really wanted to do was go home.

“We’ll be waiting for you.” Sharp disconnected.

Lance glanced over the console. “You didn’t tell him you just left the ER.”

“He didn’t ask.”

A long exhale from Lance conveyed his frustration. “Are you sure you’re up to this?”

“The X-ray and CAT scan were clear. The doctor said I would make a full recovery.”

“He also said you should rest.” Lance’s frown deepened.

She knew he wanted to protect her, but he also tried hard to respect her ability to handle her job. However, the emotion in Sharp’s voice concerned her. Something was wrong.

“Sharp never asks for anything,” she said. “And he’s helped with two of my cases without being paid. He sounded upset.”

“He did sound rough.” Lance’s brows dipped. “But you look like you’re going to throw up.”

“I look that bad?” Morgan lowered the sun visor and opened the mirror. “Ugh.”

A fist-size goose egg decorated her temple, her hair had been pulled from its neat twist, and by tomorrow, she was definitely going to have a black eye. She removed the remaining hairpins and stuffed them in her tote. She considered the tube of concealer in her makeup bag, but the thought of touching the tender area to apply makeup stopped her from attempting to cover up the damage. She finger-combed her hair and let it fall alongside her face like a curtain. That was the best she could do.

“Unbelievably, you still look gorgeous.” Lance stopped the car at a red light. He reached over and took her hand. “I love that you want to help Sharp, but you have to be honest about how you feel. You won’t be any good to his friend if you make yourself sick.” He picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Plus, I love you, and I don’t like to see you hurting.”

“I love you too.” She squeezed his fingers. “I know you’re worried about me, but if Sharp needs me, I have to try to help him.”

“I know.”

The sheriff’s station parking lot was full of news vans, and reporters were broadcasting updates from the sidewalk in front of the station. Lance parked on the street. Skirting the media circus, Morgan and Lance went inside, where the scene was equally chaotic.

“Looks like every deputy in the department has been called in,” Lance said.

Morgan turned toward the corner of the crowded lobby and found Sharp waiting with a woman in her late forties.

At fifty-three, Sharp was fitter than most people half his age thanks to a strict exercise regimen and an organic, crunchy lifestyle. Clad in his usual jeans and T-shirt, he looked more tense than normal.

The woman’s eyes widened with a quick flash of surprise as she blinked at Morgan’s face, but she was too polite to say anything.

But Sharp had no such reservations. He strode across the tile. “What the hell happened to you?” He reached for Morgan’s hair, lifting a piece out of the way and leaning in to get a closer look at her goose egg.

Morgan leaned back and pushed Sharp’s hand away. “My client wasn’t happy with my advice.”

“McFarland hit you?” Sharp nearly snarled.

“I’m OK,” Morgan said.

Sharp didn’t look convinced. “I don’t want to jeopardize your health.”

“Sharp, I’m fully capable of doing my job.”

He nodded. “Then I appreciate that you came right over here.” He glanced behind him at the woman who stood ten feet away and lowered his voice. “Eliza’s husband was my best friend.” He paused, his face tightening as if he were struggling to contain his grief and articulate his feelings.

Morgan put a hand on his arm and nodded toward the woman. “Why don’t you introduce me, and let me get to it?”

“Thank you.” Sharp introduced them in a low voice. “Eliza, this is Morgan Dane. She’s the best lawyer I’ve ever worked with. Morgan, Eliza Powell is a very old friend.”

“Thank you for coming.” Eliza sniffed. “I didn’t know what to do when Haley called me, so I went to see Lincoln.”

Lincoln?