What I've Done (Morgan Dane #4)(54)

Lance stopped at a traffic light. “My mother found no criminal convictions associated with his previous addresses. His Connecticut record was erased due to the dropped charges, but she found and verified the arrest through the township newspaper online archives. They publish a weekly police incident report.”

“Kieran was married ten years ago. The marriage lasted less than two years.”

“The timing of the arrest for stalking his ex fits.”

“Yes.” Morgan closed her file. “Let’s see what he has to say.”

And how jealous he was.

Kieran Hart lived several miles outside of town. Lance pulled up to a set of wrought-iron gates, lowered the Jeep window, and pressed the intercom call button.

Cameras watched from either side of the gate. Infrared beams monitored the top of the gate and fence. Eliza had an excellent alarm system, but Kieran took home security to a whole different level.

“Yes?” a voice said from the speaker.

“Mr. Kruger and Ms. Dane to see Mr. Hart,” Lance said. “We have an appointment.”

The voice didn’t answer, but the gates rolled open and Lance drove through.

Kieran’s property was the type a great-grandfather left in trust for future generations. Mature trees dotted a parklike lawn. The long driveway ended in a circle like the upstate New York edition of Downton Abbey. Lance pulled up in front of the house. They got out of the car, and Morgan led the way up the walk. Cameras mounted under the eaves swiveled to follow them. More infrared beams winked from subtle locations.

“I feel like I’m being watched from every angle,” Morgan said.

“That’s because you are being watched.” Lance frowned. “This is not the kind of property we can slip into unnoticed at a later date.”

“What does that mean?”

Lance was suspiciously silent.

“You aren’t going to snoop around.” Even as she spoke, she knew that’s exactly what he wanted to do.

“I might not get another chance, and I suspect that photo of Haley was the equivalent of seeing a bug in your kitchen. With sex crimes, there’s never just one.”

“But this place is monitored,” Morgan protested. “I know you get impatient, but taking legal risks could jeopardize Haley’s defense. She doesn’t have that many people on her side. Kieran Hart could be a valuable asset.”

Lance didn’t mind cutting legal corners to speed up an investigation, but Morgan was desperately short on witnesses who would testify on Haley’s behalf.

“He’s her ex, so how can we be sure he’s on her side of this case?” Lance asked.

“If he still has feelings for her, we can play on those.” Morgan cringed. “That sounds terribly exploitative.”

“Worrying about exploiting Kieran Hart won’t keep me up at night.” Lance rolled a shoulder. “If he was taking naked pictures of girls without their knowledge, what else was he doing without their consent? His behavior fits the profile of a serial sex offender.”

Morgan couldn’t argue with his logic. “Let’s see what he has to say before we make any important decisions. We have only Haley’s word that he took the picture without her knowledge.”

“We need to find that photo.”

Morgan reached for the doorbell. Before she could press it, the front door was opened by a man in a slim gray suit.

“I’m David.” He stepped back to admit them. “I’ll take you to Mr. Hart.”

Morgan stepped over the threshold and handed him her business card. The foyer, tiled in black and white like a chessboard, was large enough to dance in. A sweeping staircase curved up one wall. Elegant dark-wood molding trimmed the walls. In the center, a round pedestal table held an arrangement of white roses. The scent of fresh flowers and beeswax filled the room. The muffled bark of a dog echoed in the two-story space.

“The house is beautiful.” She followed him down a hallway. An Oriental carpet runner ran the length of the corridor. “It must be difficult to maintain a home of this size.”

“He has me.” David chuckled. “And some additional staff. As a bachelor, Mr. Hart’s needs are simple.” At the end of the corridor, David opened a door and exposed a stairwell that led downward. “After you.”

Morgan and Lance descended into the basement. But it was no ordinary cellar. Kieran’s basement contained a professional-quality indoor gun range with a single target on a ceiling-mounted electronic pulley system. They stepped onto a concrete floor.

“Mr. Hart,” David called out. “Ms. Dane and Mr. Kruger to see you.”

Kieran Hart stood behind a table loaded with a handgun, a box of bullets, and a silver coffee service. Next to the coffeepot, three delicate white china cups sat on saucers.

“Thank you, David. You can leave us.” Kieran Hart looked younger than thirty-five. He wore tailored slacks, a black cashmere sweater, and Italian loafers the way a regular person wore sweats. Protective earmuffs were looped around his neck.

Morgan introduced herself, and she and Lance shook Kieran’s hand. “As I mentioned in our phone call, I’m representing Haley Powell, and I’d like to ask you a few questions that might help with her defense.”

“I’m glad to help Haley, but I’m not sure what I can do for you.” Kieran’s gaze narrowed on Lance and then brushed over Morgan’s bruise. Frowning, he turned to the table and picked up a heavily engraved weapon with a rosewood stock. He gestured to several pairs of sport earmuffs. “Please help yourself to the coffee as well. My new toy was just delivered. Forgive me if I indulge myself.”