Her Last Goodbye (Morgan Dane #2)

Sophie let go. Morgan heard her whimpering and her bare feet slapping the hardwood as she ran down the short hallway. Her heart bled for the child, but she had to protect her first. Comfort would have to come later, when they were all safe. A door slammed shut. A lock clicked.

But Morgan knew that flimsy interior door wouldn’t keep her daughter safe for long. And now her older two children were also in danger.

“Don’t move.” Grandpa’s voice came from the shadows behind the intruder. Light glinted off the pistol in his hand. “I promise that I will shoot you without hesitation.”

Morgan breathed.

Thank God.

Grandpa was in the dark and smart enough to stay there. Moving any closer to the intruder would show how old and frail he was, plus closer quarters would give the intruder the opportunity to disarm him.

The intruder froze for a few long seconds, then turned and bolted for the front of the house. He unlocked the door, opened it, and disappeared outside. The security lights illuminated as his footsteps thudded on the concrete stoop. Gun in hand, Grandpa shuffled after him, stopping on the front stoop and scanning the brightly lit front yard.

Morgan hesitated. Part of her wanted to follow Grandpa. He wouldn’t be able to catch the intruder, and she hated the thought of him getting away. She didn’t even know his identity. But Grandpa would make sure the man was gone. She needed to check on each member of her family.

She turned around. Sophie was locked in Morgan’s bedroom, alone and no doubt terrified.

“What happened?” Gianna stood in the doorway across the hall from the girls’ room.

“We had a breakin.” Morgan rushed for her room. “Could you call the police, and then make sure Ava and Mia are OK?”

Her older daughters were quiet. Hopefully, they hadn’t woken.

Morgan knocked softly on her bedroom door. “Sophie? It’s Mommy. Open the door, sweetie. Everything is all right now. The man is gone.”

Nothing.

Morgan tried the door. Locked. She reached for the top of the door frame and swept her hand along the molding. Her fingers found the thin key she kept there in case one of the kids locked themselves in a room.

As Sophie had done multiple times.

Morgan unlocked the door and opened it slowly. “Sophie? Where are you?”

She crouched to check under the bed and found only her slippers. There was only one other place to hide. She crossed the room to open the closet door. At first, she didn’t see anything. She moved her hanging clothes aside and almost burst into tears.

Sophie was huddled on the floor of the closet.

Morgan squatted down to her level. “It’s OK, sweetie. You can come out.”

She held out her arms, and Sophie leaped into them, sobbing. The child’s pajamas were wet, and she smelled like urine. Morgan stood, lifting her baby in her arms. She grabbed her cell phone from the nightstand and called Lance as she walked back out into the hallway.

He answered, sounding wide-awake and anxious. “What’s wrong?”

“We had an intruder in the house.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

She ended the call, shoving the phone into the pocket of her pajamas.

Gianna was coming out of the girls’ bedroom. She held a finger to her lips. “Unbelievably, they are both still asleep,” she whispered. “I called 911 and Stella.”

“Thank you.” Morgan walked toward her. “Sophie needs dry pajamas.”

Gianna slipped back into the bedroom, emerging a minute later with a clean nightgown and panties. She handed them to Morgan, then headed for the kitchen. “I’ll put on some coffee.”

It was going to be a long night.

Morgan set the shivering little girl down, stripping the wet clothes off her body. She set them aside in case the police wanted them as evidence.

“I’m sorry, Mommy.” Sophie’s voice was thin and small and helpless. “I was going to the baffroom, and I saw him. He grabbed me. I was sca-wed.”

“Of course you were, honey.” Morgan’s heart cracked, visions of her baby confronting an intruder breaking her in pieces. Sophie shivered, and Morgan wanted to rip the intruder to shreds.

And maybe set the shredded bits on fire.

Drawing in a calming breath, she tugged the flannel nightgown over Sophie’s head. “You were very brave. Grandpa chased him away.”

Her children were all right. If she focused on that fact, she’d get through this.

Once dressed, Sophie wrapped all four limbs around Morgan and clung hard. Her three-year-old was surprisingly strong—inside and out.

“It’s all right now,” Morgan soothed, staggering to her feet with the additional weight.

“Morgan!” Gianna’s shout came from the front door.

Heart clutching, Morgan carried Sophie out onto the stoop. Three concrete steps led to the front walkway. Grandpa was sprawled at the bottom.

“Stay calm,” he said in a breathless whisper. “I’m still alive.” But his words were strained, his face was drawn, and one leg was bent at an impossible angle.





Chapter Thirty


“Don’t move, Grandpa.” Morgan used her cell to call for an ambulance. Then she brushed her daughter’s hair from her face. “Sophie, I need you to go inside with Gianna.”

Sophie hugged her harder. For a second, Morgan thought she’d have to peel the frightened child from her body, but Sophie seemed to understand the gravity of the situation. She released Morgan and allowed Gianna to take her from her mother. Gianna carried the child back in the house.

Morgan ran inside and grabbed a blanket from the back of the living room sofa. Back outside, she dropped to her knees beside her grandfather, tucked the blanket around his trembling body, and took his hand.

“Twenty years ago, I would have chased that son of a bitch. Ten years ago, I would have shot him,” Grandpa wheezed, pain creasing his face. “But my hands are so shaky now, I was afraid I’d miss and hit you by accident.”

Morgan held beck her tears. “You still saved us all tonight.”

As always.

“I wish I wasn’t so damned old.” Grandpa’s breaths shortened. “I can’t believe I fell down a couple of steps.”

The next ten minutes seemed to take ten hours to pass, but the ambulance and paramedic vehicle finally arrived, just a minute apart. Morgan stood aside to give the medics room to work.

Lance’s Jeep sped down the street and parked at the curb. A few seconds later, he jogged across the grass to stand next to her. He took off his leather jacket and wrapped it around her.

Morgan hadn’t realized she was freezing until the warmth of it enveloped her. It smelled like him, a cedar scent that now comforted her. Her knees, her whole body, felt weak. She leaned into him, grateful for his presence and support.

His arm wrapped around her shoulders, and he pulled her close. “What happened?”

“Grandpa fell chasing the intruder.” She watched the paramedic start an IV and assess her grandfather’s injuries while she briefly recapped the details of the break-in for Lance.

A minute later, Stella drove up to the house and parked behind Lance’s vehicle. She ran up to one of the paramedics and peered over his shoulder. “I’m here, Grandpa.”