What I've Done (Morgan Dane #4)(8)

She frowned. “I don’t faint.” Her voice was indignant.

Lance shifted his body to pick her up.

“Wait.” Morgan grabbed her tote. Then she snagged her candy from the asphalt where it had fallen.

“Seriously?” He scooped her into his arms.

“My blood sugar must be low. I don’t need to be carried,” she protested. “You can put me down.”

“So you can hit your head again?” Lance hefted her higher in his arms and headed toward his Jeep. “I don’t think so. We’re going to the ER.”

She didn’t protest, which told him she felt much worse than she wanted to admit.





Chapter Five

Sharp froze. Her use of his first name brought the memories rushing back. No one had called him Lincoln in ages. His parents were both dead, he was an only child, and he hadn’t spoken to his ex-wife in many years. But Eliza had also known him before he’d become a cop, before he’d acquired his nickname.

“Eliza?” Even with the evidence right in front of him, he couldn’t believe she was here.

“I was afraid you might not remember me.” She blew a piece of hair away from her eyes. “It’s been a long time.”

“I remember you,” he said.

Don’t just stand there, idiot.

He hurried down the steps and stood awkwardly in front of her, unsure how to greet her. He settled on a quick hug. They were old friends after all, no matter what else had transpired between them. “How are you?”

Twenty-five years before, her husband, Officer Ted Powell, had died, leaving Eliza to raise their baby, Haley, alone. The memory of Ted’s death was etched permanently into Sharp’s brain. Nor would he ever forget the way she’d accepted the folded flag, the fog crawling over the cemetery, or her three involuntary flinches as the honor guard sent off the twenty-one-gun salute. To this day, Sharp hated the sound of bagpipes.

The community and the Scarlet Falls PD had come together to support Eliza. But less than a year after her husband’s death, she had moved to New York City, wanting a fresh start.

Maybe she’d also wanted to put some distance between her and Sharp.

“I need your help.” Her voice broke. “I don’t know who else to call.”

The desperate edge in her voice put Sharp on alert and wiped away his nostalgia. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Haley.” Eliza’s breath hitched. “She needs a lawyer.”

In his mind, Sharp saw an infant in a pink blanket, but Haley would be an adult now.

A garbage truck rumbled down the street, and two cars pulled into the small parking lot of the real estate agency next door. Sensing Eliza’s story would require privacy, he steered her up the front steps.

“Let’s go inside.” He held the door open for her.

In the foyer, he gestured toward his office. The largest room in the unit, it had once been a living room and accommodated a couch in addition to the usual office furniture.

Clearly agitated, Eliza paced.

“Haley called me this morning. She was nearly hysterical, almost incoherent.” Eliza’s eyes misted. She paused to collect herself. “She told me she was at the sheriff’s station, and they wouldn’t let her leave. They think she killed someone named Noah.”

“She’s at the Randolph County Sheriff’s Station?” Sharp asked, confused.

“Yes.”

“Why was Haley in town?”

“We live in Grey’s Hollow.” Eliza’s eyes flickered away from his for a moment, then she got back to business. “Right after she called, two deputies showed up on my doorstep with a search warrant. They went through Haley’s room and took her computer.”

Sharp swallowed the fact that she’d never let him know she was back. Then he focused on her needs. “What did the warrant say?”

Eliza took a folded piece of paper from her purse. “They gave me a copy and a receipt for Haley’s computer.”

Sharp read the warrant. The police were looking for evidence in the murder of Noah Carter. The probable cause affidavit wasn’t attached, so he didn’t know how much evidence the police had on Haley. “They only took her computer, so that means they didn’t find any other evidence.”

“I don’t even know who Noah Carter is.” Eliza’s voice broke.

“Me either. A missing woman case has dominated the news,” Sharp said. The sheriff’s department had been looking for twenty-five-year-old Shannon Yates since she’d been reported missing the previous Tuesday. Her car had been found Saturday afternoon, and the sheriff’s department suspected that foul play had occurred. “But there was another story about a young man being stabbed. Is that the case?”

“I don’t know.” Eliza whirled and paced back toward him. “By the time I got that little bit of information out of Haley, someone in the background was yelling that her time was up. I told her not to say anything else. That I would get her a lawyer. And she hung up.”

“Did you go to the station?” Sharp went behind his desk. He opened his computer and pulled up the local news station website.

She nodded. “Yes. As soon as the deputies left my house. I couldn’t get past the front desk.”

“What time was this?” Sharp asked, scrolling.