Bones Don't Lie (Morgan Dane 3)

She crossed the weeds to stand in front of him and put her hands on his forearms. His muscles were taut, rigid with tension. “How are you doing with this?”

“I don’t know.” He looked over her shoulder. Behind him, the flatbed retreated. Lance blinked, then looked at her. “It feels surreal.”

“I’m sorry this is happening to you.” She slid her hands down to grasp his. “Are you sure you don’t want me or Sharp to go with you to your mom’s house? I know you can handle things alone, but you don’t have to.”

“I’m sure.” Lance’s chest rose and fell with a sigh. “I don’t know how she’s going to react. If I need help, I can call Sharp. He’s already seen her at her worst.”

His words stung, even though she knew she was being overly sensitive. Sharp had been in the Krugers’ lives for decades. Morgan’s relationship with Mrs. Kruger was relatively new. Even though it felt as if Lance was part of her family, Morgan obviously hadn’t reached inclusion status in his.

But she didn’t push. She wouldn’t have survived her husband’s death without the support of her grandfather and sister. But Lance had had no one but Sharp for decades. Lance was more accustomed to being alone.

“I understand.” Or at least, she was trying to. “You’ll call me later?”

“I’ll try. Depends on how she takes the news. I’ll stay with her tonight.”

“Of course you will.” She nodded. “Is there anything I can do?”

He shook his head. “But thanks for asking.”

That sounds so . . . detached.

She squeezed his hands, wanting more of a connection with him. “Call me. It doesn’t matter how late.”

With a nod, he turned back to his Jeep and left.

Morgan walked toward the road where Sharp’s car was parked. Sheriff King stood next to the open door of his county vehicle.

As she passed him, his eyes narrowed.

“I hear you got one of those boys off this afternoon.” His voice was low and deep and disgusted.

Morgan stopped and turned to face him. “Eric was innocent. Doesn’t it bother you that he spent the night in jail for a crime he didn’t commit?”

“Given the video his friends were passing around, I’m sure he’s guilty of something.” The careless lift of the sheriff’s big shoulder said as much as his words. He swept his hat off his head and brushed back his gray-streaked hair. “These entitled kids need to learn that there are consequences for their actions.”

“Eric is hardly entitled, and even if he were, that’s no excuse for putting an innocent kid behind bars.” Morgan inhaled, hoping the damp night air would cool her anger. “Eric has a bruise on his face.”

The sheriff shoved his hat back on his head. “Eric resisted arrest.”

Exactly what Morgan had predicted the sheriff would say. “You could have gotten him killed. Your jail is hardly secure.”

She and the sheriff locked gazes for a few seconds. His eyes narrowed at her reference to the attack on her previous client.

“Jail is a dangerous place,” the sheriff said, his voice grating. “Now your client knows that. Maybe he’ll stick to the straight and narrow.”

“He was already on the straight and narrow,” Morgan shot back. “The legal system assumes innocence until proven guilty. Eric didn’t deserve the bruise on his face either.”

“He shouldn’t have resisted arrest.” The sheriff’s jaw shifted back and forth, as if he were grinding his molars. Morgan turned away. There really wasn’t much else to say. Sheriff King was an old school hard-ass. He saw his job as putting as many people in jail as possible. He was not going to change.

“Tyler Green is out on bail,” he said.

Morgan froze, her palms going cold as she slowly turned back. “Seriously?”

“Yep. He got a new bail hearing.” The sheriff jammed his hat on his head. “I thought you should know, seeing as he threatened to get even with you.”

Two months ago, Sharp Investigations had been hired to find the abusive deadbeat dad. Morgan had been instrumental in getting Tyler arrested. He’d attacked her, and unlike the wife who was too scared to testify against him, Morgan had pressed charges, and he’d gone to jail.

Supposedly.

“I thought he couldn’t make bail.” Morgan rubbed the base of her throat. Though her bruises had healed, she could still feel Tyler’s hands around her neck.

“I don’t know what happened.” The sheriff lifted a shoulder. “I put him in jail. I can’t help it if the system assumes he’s innocent until proven guilty.”

In light of the information he’d given her, she ignored the dig.

“Thank you for telling me about Tyler.” Morgan wasn’t surprised at the courtesy. Sheriff King could be harsh, but his manners were as old-fashioned as his dated approach toward law enforcement.

“You’re welcome. Be careful out there, counselor.” The sheriff got into his vehicle and drove away.

Morgan walked to Sharp’s car. Her skin tingled with nerves, and a headache pulsed behind her ears. She slid into the passenger seat.

Sharp started the engine. “What did the sheriff want?”

Morgan summed up what had happened at the courthouse earlier. “He dressed me down for getting the charges against Eric dropped.”

“He’s a Neanderthal. I wrote Mickey Mouse on my ballot in the last election.”

Morgan stifled a surprised snort. The sheriff had run unopposed.

“He also warned me that Tyler Green is out on bail,” she said.

Sharp turned the car around and headed back toward Scarlet Falls. “Who would post bail for that useless jerk? He’s a flight risk.”

“Maybe the same family members who let him hide from subpoenas in their houses.”

“Good point,” Sharp said. “Are you all right?”

Morgan took a water bottle out of her tote and rolled the tension from her shoulders. “Yes. Lance upgraded our security system, and I’ll tell the family to be extra careful. Hopefully, Tyler will appreciate being out of jail and stay clear of me.”

“I wouldn’t bet on Tyler Green making sensible choices.”

“No. I suppose not.” Morgan rubbed a ragged edge on her fingernail. “But I’m more worried about Lance.”

Sharp nodded. “I know you are. I tried to help him as much as I could, but he learned to handle problems on his own at a very young age. That doesn’t mean it’s what’s best for him or even what he wants. It’s just what he knows.”

And when people were hurting, they retreated to the familiar.

“Thanks, Sharp,” Morgan said. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She dug a bottle of ibuprofen out of her tote bag. She twisted the cap off the bottle and washed down two tablets.

Sharp frowned. “You shouldn’t take those on an empty stomach.”

Morgan found a candy bar in the bottom of her bag. “I’m not.”

From the look of horror on his face, she could have been holding nuclear waste.

“Put that down.” He opened the center console, pulled out a wrapped bar, and handed it to her. “Eat this instead.”

“What is it?” In the dark, all she could read on the wrapper was the word organic.

“It’s a protein bar. You’ll eat candy, but you’re suspicious of something healthy.” Sharp shook his head. “You’d have more energy if you didn’t eat all that sugar.”