Plastic chairs and vending machines formed a small waiting area at the end of the hall in the emergency department.
Lance leaned on a snack machine, assessing the pallor in Morgan’s face and the slight trembling of her fingers, which she was working hard to hide. “You should be resting.”
“I know.” She sniffed, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “There’s nothing I’d like more than to go home and focus all my attention on an entire pint of Ben & Jerry’s. But if I let go now, I’m not sure I could pull myself together again.”
Her gaze broke away and traveled the hallway to where a deputy stood guard outside the room where Haley was being examined. The deputy had balked at being told to wait outside. But once he realized the ER staff was going to collect a rape kit in addition to treating Haley, he’d backed off after making sure the exam room had no other exits. The previous sheriff had been very old-school. There were no female deputies.
The situation was unusual. Normally, the person being examined was the victim, not the accused. But seriously, where was Haley going to go? She was sick, and she barely weighed a hundred pounds. She wasn’t going to overpower the nurses and escape.
Lance didn’t even want to think about what was going on inside the room. Collecting a rape kit involved an invasive exam that lasted several hours. The victim was swabbed and photographed in exactly the places she had been violated. Even with a specially trained nurse, the procedure was traumatic.
Morgan drew a shaky breath. “It’s bad enough that I got knocked on my butt in the courthouse and Esposito had to save me from my own client. Haley needs a tough lawyer today. If the sheriff or prosecutor’s office smells weakness, my bargaining power on her behalf is diminished. We both know that part of my job is an act, and I’ll be honest with you, I’m having a really hard time staying in character.”
“I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand.” As much as he wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, he respected her need to maintain her professional reputation.
He respected her. She was the strongest person he’d ever met. And underneath all that determination and intelligence was a heart of gold. Morgan was a rescuer. She took care of three small children, her elderly grandfather, and two stray dogs; and last summer, she’d opened her home to a sick young woman waiting for a kidney transplant. That girl had grown well enough that she now insisted on serving as Morgan’s live-in nanny, but no matter how much Gianna tried to earn her keep, there was no denying that Morgan was the one taking care of her.
And Lance couldn’t even begin to describe what Morgan had done for him. Nor could he consider how he would have gotten through his mother’s mental health crisis back in November without her support.
“Just remember, you’re only one person. You can’t save everyone.” He dropped his hand from her shoulder and gave her forearm a quick squeeze.
Nodding, Morgan closed her eyes for a few seconds. When she opened them, her resolve was back in full force. “But I want to help Haley, and she needs me to be on my game.”
No one would work harder. Morgan would identify with Eliza too. They’d both lost their husbands and been left to raise their kids alone.
Morgan walked to the coffee machine in the corner. She brewed a cup and lifted it to her nose, inhaling the scent as if it were oxygen. Sipping the coffee, she glanced down the hall. Twenty feet away from the deputy on guard duty, Eliza sat in a plastic chair against the wall, hugging a bag of fresh clothes she’d brought for her daughter. Sharp stood next to her chair, his hands shoved in the front pockets of his pants, as if he were having difficulty keeping himself from reaching out to touch Eliza.
After a testing sip, Morgan downed the coffee like a shot of tequila. Then she tossed the empty cup in the garbage can. She pulled out the pack of M&M’s she’d bought earlier and tore off the top.
Lance opened his mouth to point out that healthy food would help her heal faster than would giving in to her sugar addiction. Then he thought better of it. Today was probably not the day.
Morgan turned to him, her expression thoughtful. “Does it bother you to work for the defendant?”
“Sometimes,” he admitted. “But we all have a job to do. The legal system isn’t perfect. The PI business isn’t exactly all unicorns and rainbows.”
“McFarland has made me second-guess my career change.” She ate another piece of candy.
“It shouldn’t. You’ve kept several innocent people out of jail,” Lance reminded her. “Don’t let one bad client undermine your efforts. Look what you’ve already done for Haley. She wouldn’t be here getting a medical evaluation if it wasn’t for you.”
“I know.” But she was still frowning. Or maybe that was just her headache. He hated the pain lines creased around her mouth and eyes.
Morgan ate more M&M’s. “Don’t look at me like that. As soon as it gets warm, I’m going to start working out.”
“OK.” Lance had heard that more than a few times. “I hate to echo Sharp, but regular exercise would give you more energy than candy.”
A breaking news report banner on the TV in the corner caught Lance’s attention. He pointed toward the television. “The state police found a body.”
Morgan walked closer to the television. Reaching up, she increased the volume. A reporter stood on the side of a road, a forest at his back. Behind him, police vehicles lined the gravel shoulder. Grim-faced officers gathered in clusters.
The newscaster looked equally serious as he held his microphone out for a deputy.
The deputy said, “The body of a female in her midtwenties was found this morning by hikers in a section of woods near the state park. We suspect foul play is involved in her death. Identification of the victim is pending notification of her next of kin. The sheriff’s office is investigating. That’s all for now. No questions.” With a nod and a lift of a hand, the detective stepped away from the mic.
“Could be Shannon Yates,” Lance suggested.
“Yes,” Morgan agreed. “She’s the right age.”
“The same age as Haley.”
Morgan sighed. “Young women are prime targets.” She nodded toward the other end of the hallway. “Do you know Eliza or Haley?”
“No.” Lance hadn’t even recognized their names, and he’d been close to Sharp for twenty-three years, ever since Sharp, then a police detective, had investigated the disappearance of Lance’s father. When Vic Kruger’s missing-persons case had gone cold, and Lance’s mother had spiraled into mental illness, Sharp had recognized that young Lance had needed someone to look out for him and had stepped up.
Morgan tilted her head. “Her appearance seems to have shaken him.”
“You noticed that too?” Lance glanced down the hall. Sharp had moved closer to Eliza, but his posture was stiff, as if he didn’t know where he stood with her. “You talked to Haley. Do you think she could have killed that boy?”
Morgan rubbed the back of her neck. “I don’t know. I don’t want to think so. She’s so young and frail-looking, but she was also distant . . . almost out of it. According to Colgate, she was found alone with the body, covered in blood. Her fingerprints were the only ones on the weapon, she’d been seen leaving the club with the victim the night before, and forensics recovered a used condom at the scene. The first thing she said to the responding deputy was ‘What have I done?’ None of these things make her look innocent.”
“But they don’t mean she wasn’t drugged and/or sexually assaulted.”
“No. They don’t.” Morgan frowned. “But that will be damned hard to prove without a positive drug screen or some physical evidence that she was raped, restrained, struck . . .” She paused, her fingertips squeezing the bridge of her nose. “It’s hard enough to get a rape conviction with physical evidence.”
“I know.”