Say You're Sorry Page 25
“That also explains why they were extra cautious with the search warrant.” Morgan lowered her hand, her brows furrowed in thought. “But if they want this case solved quickly, they might have made mistakes.”
“Yes,” Sharp agreed. “I’d not only look under every rock, I’d blow them up and examine the pieces.”
Sharp’s gaze landed on Lance like a Taser barb, then returned to Morgan. “We’ll need to discuss the offer. Can we have a few minutes?”
“Of course,” she said.
Lance followed Sharp across the hall into the storage room.
Sharp closed the door. “It’s up to you. If we work her investigation, Horner is going to be pissed. As long as he’s the SFPD chief, you’ll never wear a badge again in this town.”
“I know.” Lance scrubbed his hands over his face. Moving away from Scarlet Falls wasn’t an option. He couldn’t leave his mom.
“Do you know this kid?”
“A little. On the surface, I would never have suspected him capable of murder, but we both know people can be very good at hiding their sins.” Lance put aside the complications Morgan’s offer entailed and focused on what he knew about the case.
Sharp scratched his chin. “Irrespective of his guilt or innocence, are you prepared to give up a future with the police force to work for her?”
“Yes. I want to take this case,” Lance said.
“For you, for Nick, or for Morgan?”
“All of the above. I’d pretend to be all noble, but that would be bullshit.”
Sharp got up and went to a filing cabinet. “In that case, I have something for you that might make you feel better about your decision. I was waiting for the right moment to give it to you.” He unlocked and opened the bottom drawer, pawed through a tight row of files, and yanked a thick accordion file free. He handed it over. “Here.”
“What’s this?” Lance turned it sideways. His blood chilled as he read the label: VICTOR KRUGER.
His father.
The file was two inches thick and felt heavier than mere paper should. The weight of its implications no doubt.
“My personal file on your father’s case.” Sharp closed and locked the drawer.
“Police detectives aren’t supposed to keep personal files.”
“This is true, but we all do. Or at least we did back then.” Sharp sighed. “I’m sure plenty has changed since I left the force.”
Lance tested the file’s weight. “So you clearly worked on his case even after it was officially declared cold.”
“I kept plugging away at it in my personal time.” It was just like Sharp to do so without saying a word.
“You never told me.”
“When you were a teenager, you needed normal and you wouldn’t have gotten that if you didn’t let go.”
As evidenced by what had happened to Lance’s mother.
Lance didn’t open the file. “I’ve been in this office nearly every day for two months. Why didn’t you give me this before?”
“I wasn’t sure you’d want it, and I didn’t want you to get consumed by something that happened more than two decades ago. I’m also sensitive to the impact reopening the case might have on your mom. But if you’re going to join the firm permanently, I feel like I shouldn’t keep this from you any longer. You should be able to make this decision for yourself.”
Lance touched his dad’s name. Did he want this? Once he opened the file, he’d be pulled in. The case had the potential to be his black hole. He also had to consider his mom. Dredging up the past could have serious repercussions on her life, which was already a constant and precarious balancing act.
Sharp continued. “I know that your dad’s case and my influence over the years is part of what drives you. But you don’t have to be on the force to be a detective. I got pulled from your dad’s case because the case went cold and the budget was tight. We were shorthanded. Officially, I had to move on to solving active crimes. In the private sector, I decide when to stop working a case. Now it’s up to you.”
“Thank you. I think.” Lance tapped the file on his leg. He was afraid to open it.
“So you’re sure you want to take Nick’s case? This is an important decision. Do you need time to think about it?”
As much as it pained Lance to let go of his dream, in his heart he didn’t really have an option. He’d never be able to turn his back on Morgan. His fingers curled around the edge of the file. “I’m in.”
“You really do have it bad for her.”
“We’re just friends.”
“Sure you are.”
“On the bright side,” Lance said. “I can’t stand Horner, and not only will I never have to work for him, but taking this case will be like giving him a metaphorical middle finger.”
“That’s the spirit. He is a dick. I don’t know why you’d ever want to go back to working for him. He was one of the reasons I took retirement as soon as it became an option.” Sharp slapped Lance’s shoulder. “Order some damned furniture and expense it to the office. I’m tired of watching your giant self hunch over that ridiculous card table.”
Oddly, Lance felt lighter, as if letting go of his police career had somehow freed him. The tightness in his thigh didn’t feel so dire.
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that just-friends thing,” Sharp said. “She doesn’t look at you like a friend. How long ago was she widowed?”
“About two years. But we both know it doesn’t matter.”
“Just because you’ve been burned by a few selfish women doesn’t mean you’ll never find one who can handle your baggage.”
“Morgan has enough baggage of her own. Together, we’d be a disaster.” The weight of their collective burdens would drag them under. “I’ll let her know we’re in. What about the golden rule? Nick’s father won’t have a retainer yet.”
“I will make an exception because she is your close, personal friend.” Sharp jabbed a finger in the air. “But do not tell anyone I took a case with no money up front. My reputation will be ruined.”
“Can’t have that.” Lance opened the door.
“I can always take the expenses out of your pay,” Sharp said, probably only half-kidding.
Lance paused in the doorway. “You can pretend to be a hard-ass all you want, but now I know you’re a softie.”
Sharp chuckled, then grew serious. “If she needs an office, tell her she can use this room. We’ll clear it out for her. I have an excellent security system for this building. Her files will be safer here than at her house. I also doubt she’ll want to bring autopsy photos into her home where her children might see them.”
“Good point,” Lance said. “I’m going to stay close to her, Sharp. People are going to be angry. Today’s stunt was only the beginning. By taking this case, Morgan has made herself the public face for a whole can of hate.”
“Agreed.” Sharp’s gaze narrowed. “If she’s right and this kid is innocent, that means there’s a real killer out there, and I doubt he’ll be happy with Morgan prying into the murder.”
Lance went back to Sharp’s desk. Morgan was scrolling on her phone.
“We’re in,” he said.
She exhaled and closed her eyes for a long second. When she opened them, they were full of gratitude. “Thank you.”
“Do you have a game plan?” he asked.
“I’m waiting for evidentiary documents from the DA’s office. I just met with Bryce an hour ago, so that’s going to take a while. But I talked to Nick this morning.” Morgan pulled out her notes and gave them the highlights of her interview.
When she listed the kids who were still at the lake when Nick left, Sharp interrupted. “Did you say a girl named Jamie was one of the kids Nick left behind at the lake?”
Morgan nodded. “Yes. Nick said she was a friend of Tessa’s. He didn’t know her last name.”
“We can help you with that,” Sharp said. “Her name is Jamie Lewis. One of your key witnesses is our missing teen. You and Lance should go talk to her parents.”