Blood dripped down his face and onto his uniform. He almost went after his attacker, and then stopped when he recognized Shorty—and saw the three larger inmates in the doorway. They helped Shorty to his feet. Then the four of them stared at Nick.

What. The. Fuck?

He couldn’t take them all on.

His chest heaved. He wiped a hand across his face and waited. A few long minutes passed until one of the men tossed Nick a towel. “Get yourself cleaned up before the guards come in.”

Nick nodded and wiped his face. The four men stepped aside and let him out.

Two guards burst through the door. One eyed Nick’s face. “What happened?”

Snitches get stitches.

Had that been some sort of test?

“I tripped,” Nick said.

“No one attacked you?” they asked, scanning the room.

“No,” Nick lied. “These guys were just helping me up.”

The guard frowned. Clearly they didn’t have cameras inside the cells, just in the main room, and the inmates all knew it.

Who’s fucking stupid idea was that?

“You’re sure?” the guard asked.

“Yep.” Nick wiped his nose.

The guard frowned, not convinced. “You need to go to the infirmary?”

Nick shook his head. Dizziness swam in his head. “I’m good.”

The guards shot a warning look around the room. Shorty wasn’t in sight. Nick wondered if his knuckles were bleeding. He limped to the toilet and relieved himself. Returning to his mat, Nick put his back to the wall. He huddled on the mattress, pain and cold blotting out every other sense.

And waited.

He might have to spend a year or more in this place. The thought of living out the rest of his life in a concrete box made him want to throw up.

Or kill himself.

Today he’d received a beating. He had no idea why.

Or what was next.

Chapter Twenty-One

He lifted his binoculars and watched the three girls standing at the edge of Scarlet Lake. He guessed the girls were about sixteen. The sun reflected off the water like a mirror. One girl handed something to her friend. A joint?

He adjusted the focus of his binoculars to zoom in on the girl’s face.

Yep. They were passing a joint around.

He shifted his aim lower. Tight yoga pants cupped tighter asses. He licked his lips. A hand slid down to his crotch. He rubbed himself through the fabric of his pants before giving in to the urge and lowering his zipper.

But it wasn’t enough.

Frustrated, he zipped up.

There was no doubt about it. He needed to replace Tessa.

He’d thought coming back to the place where she’d died would help with his self-control by reminding him that all actions had consequences. And that he absolutely had to stay out of trouble until this whole mess blew over. But he hadn’t counted on those girls and their skintight pants.

He’d wanted to be alone at the lake. To reflect. To get a fucking grip.

He’d been prepared to share the beach with dogs and families. But pretty girls brought back memories of Tessa. Not just of her death, but of all the things he’d done with her.

To her.

The girls finished their joint and turned away from the water. He followed them with his binoculars as they walked toward a car in the parking lot. The one on the left had long blonde hair. Tall, blue-eyed, and stacked, she was as different from Tessa as possible.

The blonde slid into the driver’s seat. They drove away, and he lowered the binoculars after memorizing the license plate of the car. How hard would it be to find out her name?

He knew he needed to wait. It was too soon. But in reality, how long would he be able to keep his shit together?

He’d come to the lake to get a grip on his need, but he’d ended up stoking it higher.

Chapter Twenty-Two

In the passenger seat of the Jeep, Morgan blinked the tears from her eyes. Her grief was ramping up this week.

Lance was still holding her hand. The gesture was simultaneously comforting and terrifying, and she fought both the desire to snatch her hand away and crawl into his lap.

She shouldn’t be surprised that she wanted some comfort. She’d thrown away her job. Her neighbors hated her. After two years in a holding pattern, she’d turned her entire professional life into a train wreck in the course of a single week.

And Lance seemed to want to be there for her. In high school, he’d kept his emotional distance, and she hadn’t pressed him for a deeper relationship. They’d been young, and she’d had her own family issues. But the adult Lance was harder to resist. The more time she spent with him, the more he opened up to her.

The more she liked him.

He put his mother’s welfare ahead of his own desires. He made real sacrifices to care for her, and he did it freely and without resentment. He was willing to help Morgan solve Nick’s case, and she knew that if Bud couldn’t pay, Lance would still be in.

He was a man you could count on. A man she could count on.

But this wasn’t the time. Regret pinged in her heart as she pulled her hand out from under his. All her focus needed to stay on Nick and his defense. When it was over, she would reassess her personal life. A few months ago, she hadn’t thought she’d ever be attracted to another man. But she had to admit it—she definitely was.

She turned to study Lance’s profile, her gaze sliding from his face over his muscular chest and arms. She definitely liked what she saw, and there was no mistaking the fact that her girl parts were perking up.

He gave her a quizzical look. “What?”

“Nothing.” She turned away, her face hot.

“Any return call from Jacob’s father?” Lance asked.

“Let me check. He’s an attorney, so it wouldn’t surprise me if he makes us wait a bit just to show he can.” Morgan pulled out her phone. “That’s what I would do. There’s always some game-play involved with lawyers. But he knows we’ll just get a subpoena, so in the end, he’ll cooperate.”

“That’s annoying.”

“That’s the legal system.” Morgan opened her email account. “I’m surprised. Jacob’s father returned my email already. He wants to meet.”

“Where?”

“Let me call him.” Morgan made the call and got an immediate response. A minute later, she ended her call and lowered the phone. “He says we can drop by the house now.”

“Maybe he isn’t a game player.”

Morgan shook her head. “He’s a lawyer. He’s playing an angle. I just don’t know what it is, which makes me uncomfortable.”

“It’s sad that our legal system is a game,” Lance said.

“Isn’t it?” Morgan said. “I’ve spent most of my career trying to figure out the other side’s ulterior motive.”

“Doesn’t that get old?”

“Faster than you can imagine,” Morgan agreed.

“Then why do you do it?”

“Today, I’m doing what I do for Nick,” Morgan said. “I just know in my heart that he’s innocent. That’s never happened before in my career. I’ve always been convinced that the people I’ve prosecuted were guilty. But this time is different in every way.”

“Then we won’t stop until we solve the case. Where to next?” Lance stopped at an intersection, and Morgan gave him the address of the Emerson residence.

“That’s in your neighborhood. Do you know the Emersons?”

“No. My grandfather knows both the Emersons and the Palmers in passing but not well. Grandpa isn’t a social butterfly.” And since she’d moved back to Scarlet Falls, Morgan had avoided people as much as possible.

“Does he have an opinion on Jacob Emerson?” Lanced asked.

“Grandpa has an opinion on everything,” Morgan said. “But he’s probably had more contact with the parents than their teenage son. The only reason Grandpa knows Tessa and Nick is because they both were in our house regularly.”

As Lance turned down the Emersons’ street, a BMW parked in the driveway. A young blond man climbed out of the car and disappeared into the house.

“That looked like Jacob,” Morgan said.