Say You're Sorry (Morgan Dane #1)

Morgan returned to the sofa and perched on the edge of the cushion.

Horner turned back to the throng of media. “We have an update in the murder of Tessa Palmer.”

Reporters surged forward, extending their microphones and shouting questions.

Horner raised a hand to request silence. Chatter lowered to murmurs, and he continued. “In the early morning hours on Saturday, the Scarlet Falls Police Department learned of the brutal sexual assault and murder of a female victim.”

Morgan flinched at the words “sexual assault.” She hadn’t known.

Horner continued. “The young woman was identified as Scarlet Falls resident Tessa Palmer. She was killed between the hours of ten thirty p.m. Thursday and four a.m. Friday. Her body was found near Scarlet Lake. We are thoroughly investigating this brutal crime. Detective McNamara is the lead detective on the case. I’ll leave him to answer your questions.”

He gestured for Brody to step up to the mic.

Brody complied, but he didn’t look happy about it.

A reporter shouted, “Detective McNamara, we heard there’s a suspect.”

Brody shook his head. “We have a person of interest, but we aren’t prepared to charge anyone at this time.”

Another reporter raised his mic. “Do you think there’s a serial killer running around Scarlet Falls?”

Brody answered, “It’s too early in the investigation—”

“Thank you, Detective McNamara.” Horner cut him off, but behind his polite nod, he looked ready to tear Brody’s head off. “We have no reason to think this murder is anything other than an individual event.”

“Should the women of Scarlet Falls take extra precautions?” another reporter shouted.

“We always suggest our female residents be vigilant about their surroundings, but we have no specific warning at this time.” Horner took a breath, his gaze sweeping the crowd. “I’m confident that this office will bring a swift close to a case that has shocked and appalled the residents of this town.”

Grandpa lowered the volume as the press conference wound down. “Chief Horner likes to get in front of the camera.”

“He’ll lose his job if the mayor doesn’t win his reelection. A killer running around town won’t help that happen.”

The police chief was hired by the mayor and city council. If town leadership changed, the chief could be fired by the next administration.

“There’ll be a great deal of pressure to make a quick arrest,” Grandpa said. “The election is only six weeks away.”

“I feel like I should do something.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, but I want Tessa’s killer caught.” Five minutes ago, Morgan hadn’t wanted to talk about Tessa’s death. Now, she suddenly felt cowardly for hiding from the news.

“You’ll get to put criminals away starting next week.”

“I can’t wait. Why wasn’t Stella at the press conference?” Morgan asked. Her sister had responded to the scene with Brody. “Horner likes to put her in front of the camera.”

“I don’t know. Maybe she’s working the case.”

“I’m going to call her.” She speed-dialed her sister.

Stella answered in two rings. “Morgan?”

“Hey. I just saw the news conference. Where were you?”

“Horner pulled me from the case.” Wind weakened Stella’s voice.

“What?”

“Hold on. The wind is brutal out here. Let me get in my car.” Over the connection, a door closed and the wind ceased. Stella continued. “He took me off the case. He said I’m too close.”

“This isn’t the first time you’ve known a victim. This is a small town. You’re bound to know some victims.”

“I know.” Stella paused. “I got the feeling there was more to his order.”

“Like?” Morgan asked.

“I’ve recognized half of the people brought in for questioning.” Stella lowered her voice. “I wonder if he took me off the case not because I knew the victim, but because I might know the killer.”

Statistically, male homicide victims were more likely to be murdered by strangers, but women were usually killed by someone they knew. Scarlet Falls was a small town. Chances were, Tessa had been killed by one of their own.

Stella said good-bye and Morgan lowered the phone. Movement through the living room window caught her attention. Three police cars pulled into the Zabrowski driveway. Two black-and-whites and one unmarked car.

“What is it?” Grandpa asked.

“Police cars across the street.” Morgan watched Brody get out of the unmarked police car.

“They’re going to question Nick. You said he was Tessa’s boyfriend.” Grandpa climbed to his feet and joined her at the window. Brody went to the front door. Bud opened it, and Brody handed him a folded paper.

“They’re serving a warrant,” Grandpa said.

Morgan headed for the door.

Grandpa frowned. “You can’t get involved. You’re going to work for the District Attorney, remember?”

“I’m just going to see what’s happening.”

Worry propelled Morgan across the street. The lots in the riverside neighborhood were several acres each, the houses far apart. The Zabrowski place was a one-story, two-bedroom, no-frills rectangle. It didn’t have a water view, but Bud was meticulous about his landscaping. The front lawn, with its Ireland-green grass and tall oaks, looked like a park. Nick had learned his trade at a young age.

Morgan went up the brick walk. Bud had the door open before she reached the stoop.

“I was just going to call you. I don’t know what to do.” The manager of the Speedy Lube in town, Bud still wore his red, logoed polo and black pants.

Morgan didn’t know much about the family’s background, only that Bud had raised his son alone since Nick was little. In the ten years they’d lived across the street from her grandfather, she’d never heard any mention of Nick’s mother.

Bud kept the house as tidy as his lawn. The furnishings were bachelor-plain, heavy on black leather and oak. Knickknacks were limited to framed snapshots and a couple of high school chess trophies. Brody stood in the middle of the room, giving instructions to three uniformed officers as they worked. All four policemen wore gloves as they pulled up the couch cushions and upended furniture to inspect the undersides of drawers.

Bud led the way into the kitchen. Nick sat at the kitchen table, his hands clasped in front of him in a white-knuckled grip. His face was locked in disbelief, grief, and fear. A fifth policeman stood in the doorway watching Nick.