Secrets Never Die (Page 52)

Did Tina have the answers? And even if she did, could Lance trust her answers?

Tina wore dry scrubs, likely provided by someone at the hospital. She looked frail and lost, sitting in the corner chair, her knees drawn up into a fetal position.

Morgan beelined for the coffee maker. Lance crossed the room and sat next to Tina. He didn’t say anything, just leaned his head back on the wall.

Morgan brought Tina a cup of tea. “Can I get you something to eat?”

Tina shook her head. Morgan produced a small package of shortbread cookies from the kangaroo pocket of her sweatshirt.

“Sharp called,” Lance began. “He’s on his way back to Scarlet Falls. It seems Aaron was in Albany earlier. He tried to have Sharp and a reporter killed.”

Tina wrapped her arms around her knees.

Lance continued. “Then Aaron headed up here. Sharp also learned something interesting. Right after Joe was convicted, two cops were murdered. It seems the cops were dirty, and Joe thought they stole a hundred grand from him. He had Aaron execute them.”

Tina rested her face on her knees.

“But the cops didn’t steal that money, did they?” Lance asked. Aaron had seemed certain it had been Tina.

Tina lifted her head and looked from Lance to Morgan. “Whatever I say to you is confidential. You can’t tell anyone.”

“That’s right.” Morgan opened the package of cookies.

“Joe had been bribing those cops forever,” Tina began. “When the money went missing, everyone assumed they took it.”

“But you stole the money?” Morgan asked.

“I don’t know anything about the money,” Tina lied. She didn’t show any of the classic body language of a liar, but Lance had come to recognize that her lack of expression was its own tell.

“Where is it?” Lance asked.

Tina met his gaze squarely, her eyes vacant of any emotion, her face deadpan. No doubt she had learned to lie smoothly as a survival tactic early in her life.

“You still don’t trust us.” Lance suspected Tina was too damaged to ever trust anyone. Except maybe her son.

“Once Evan is well, we won’t be able to stay here. Joe will come after us.” Tina had the money. Lance was certain of it, and she was determined to keep it.

“Sharp didn’t think it was Joe who ordered this. He thinks Aaron either wanted to oust Joe from the organization, or Aaron was going to fund his own retirement. Aaron thought you had the money and wanted to get it back from you. Sharp’s theory is that Aaron didn’t like handing the business back and taking orders from his father after he had been in charge for the last twenty-five years.”

“Aaron was always a greedy bastard, just like his father.” Tina lifted her chin. “But I will never feel safe as long as Joe is alive, and I still don’t understand why Aaron killed Paul.”

“To pressure you to give him the money?” Morgan suggested.

“That would only work if I knew that he wanted it.” Tina didn’t admit to having the cash. But she had it.

Lance could see it in her eyes. If he hadn’t been so tired, he would have realized it immediately. “It really is in the trunk of your car, isn’t it?” At the time, Lance had assumed she was just trying to keep Aaron from shooting anyone. The idea of her carrying a large sum of cash in her trunk had seemed absurd. But it all made sense.

Her surprised glance was all the answer he needed.

“You collected medical supplies, but you couldn’t have run without the money,” he continued.

The muscles of her jaw tightened. She would admit nothing, and he wouldn’t make her. There was no point. Lance didn’t care about Joe’s drug money, and having it was Tina’s safety net.

“We’ll be glad to help however we can,” Lance said.

He understood. Tina had been abused and betrayed from birth. The only person she’d ever been able to count on was herself. And who was to say she was wrong about Joe? She knew him best. Maybe he would come after her.

“There is something you can do.” Tina’s face creased. “I need to speak with Joe. I need to look him in the eye and ask him if he has any intention of coming after me or Evan. It’s the only way I’ll ever be able to sleep again. Can you arrange a meeting?”

“I can try.” Lance didn’t like the idea, but he understood. She needed to literally face her fear.

“Thank you,” Tina said.

“Let’s get through tonight.” Morgan stood. “I’m going to go find Rylee’s brother.”

Rylee’s surgery had been short and successful. When Lance and Morgan had checked an hour before, she’d been in recovery and doing well.

Morgan disappeared.

Thirty minutes later, a doctor in green scrubs came in.

Tina jerked straight.

“So far, so good,” the doctor said. “The wound didn’t look as bad as I expected. We’re keeping him in the ICU. We’ll see how his body reacts to the antibiotics. We should know more in the morning. But he’s a tough kid. I’m more hopeful now than I was before the surgery. I’ll send a nurse in when you can see him.”

The pressure in Lance’s chest eased. He was almost afraid to be relieved.

Tina nodded, close to tears.

The doctor left.

“Are you staying here tonight?” Lance asked.

“Yes,” Tina answered. “There’s a sleep chair in Evan’s room.”

“OK.” Lance stood. “I’ll be back to check on him tomorrow.”

Tina met his eyes. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Lance left the room and went looking for Morgan. He found her in the hallway, headed back to see him.

He turned her around and relayed the update on Evan’s condition.

“Let’s go home and get some sleep,” Lance said.

Now that he’d had some good news about Evan, adrenaline seemed to be draining from Lance’s body. He slung an arm over Morgan’s shoulders and pretended he didn’t want to lean on her.

“What about Tina?” Morgan wrapped her arm around his waist, as if she knew he could use the support. But then, she always knew what he needed.

“As long as Evan is here, Tina isn’t going anywhere. And they should both be safe enough in the ICU with a cop outside the door.”

Morgan put her head on his shoulder.

Tonight, Lance needed to recharge his batteries with his own family.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Morgan woke to the gray of predawn. She’d slept poorly. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Lance fighting Aaron, going under in the river, and being swept into boulders. She rolled over and watched him sleep for a few minutes. One arm was flung over his head. Gauze and tape covered a large abrasion on his forearm.

He was still sleeping off the sheer physical exertion of the previous night’s water rescue. She did not want him disturbed. His battered body needed rest.

There was no other man like him. How did she get so lucky?

Morgan slipped out of bed and into her favorite worn pair of jeans and a tank top. She stopped in the bathroom to brush her teeth and put her hair in a ponytail. Sliding her phone into her pocket, she tiptoed around the bed and turned off Lance’s ringer. A sound from the hallway caught her attention. She left the room, closing the door behind her.

Sophie stood in the hallway. Morgan greeted her with a kiss on the forehead, which was beautifully cool.

Sophie frowned at the closed door. “Is Wance still in bed?”

Nodding, Morgan pressed her finger to her lips. “He was up late. Let’s let him sleep a while longer, OK?”

Sophie considered the question for a second, then tilted her head. “Can I stay home from pweschool today?”

Was she trying to make a deal or was her question unrelated to allowing Lance to sleep? Considering how sick her youngest had been, Morgan had had no intention of sending her to school anyway. A preschool was basically a giant brick petri dish, and Sophie’s immune system would be weakened.

“Yes.” Morgan scooped her up, settled her on her hip, and carried her toward the dining room. They walked past the plastic sheeting that covered the opening to the gutted kitchen.

Sophie rested her head on Morgan’s shoulder. “I miss our kitchen.”

“Me too.” Morgan turned into the dining room.

“I like waffles.” Sophie sighed. “But I miss pancakes.”

Morgan noted Sophie’s correct pronunciation of the L in like. Was Sophie growing out of her lisp? That shouldn’t make Morgan sad, but there was a tiny part of her that didn’t want her children to grow up so quickly.

“Me too,” said Grandpa. Dressed in slacks and a blue polo shirt, he sat at the table, reading the news on his electronic tablet. He pointed toward the coffee maker. “The pot’s full.”

“Thank you.” Morgan set her daughter on the chair next to Grandpa and poured a cup of coffee. She lifted the mug awkwardly, the bandages on her hands getting in the way.

“How is Lance?” Grandpa asked.

“Exhausted. Sleeping.”

“It’s no wonder.” Grandpa pointed to his tablet. “There’s an article on the rescue. I don’t know how he did it.”

“Me either, and I watched.” She shuddered, another vision of Lance and Evan in the water flashing in her mind. Lance had succeeded with his intelligence, strength, willpower, and luck in equal measures.