The ride passed in a blur of landscape. “This isn’t right. It’s not fair. Nick was locked up with hardened criminals because he didn’t have enough money for bail and a defense. He had to choose.”
Morgan closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the cool glass. She could feel the case breaking apart, the knots in the DA’s case unraveling as she picked at the evidence. But she hadn’t been quick enough for Nick. All her efforts hadn’t been enough.
“If only I’d questioned Felicity earlier—”
“Stop that!” Lance cut her off. “You’ve done everything possible. You’ve investigated a case when the police and the DA failed to do their due diligence. You’ve come up with two alternative suspects and destroyed the credibility of one of the prosecution’s witnesses. You have nothing to regret. This is not your fault. The blame here rests on the DA and Chief Horner. They were so sure they had an open-and-shut case.”
She nodded, but she didn’t really agree. In hindsight, she could have done better. She could have realized the police were interested in Nick as a suspect before they’d actually arrested him. She should have checked on him after they’d found Tessa’s body. She’d known he’d be one of the primary suspects as the boyfriend of the victim.
Lance reached across the console and grabbed her hand. “You are amazing. You’ve stuck by Nick when no one else would.”
At the hospital, they parked in the ER lot and went in through the sliding doors. They found Nick’s father in the hallway of the ER, both hands pressed to his forehead. Ten feet down the hall, a sheriff’s deputy leaned against the wall. The fact that he was outside the room told Morgan that Nick was in bad condition. So bad that there was no chance he could escape or be aggressive.
“Bud!” Morgan rushed forward.
Bud lowered his hands, his eyes shell-shocked. “He’s in emergency surgery. Another prisoner stabbed him in the belly three times with some sort of homemade knife. A shiv, they called it.”
Blinking back a tear, Morgan put her hand on Bud’s arm. “I’m so sorry.”
He covered her hand with his. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”
Morgan didn’t say anything about the case. It wasn’t the time. “Did they say anything about his condition?”
Bud swallowed. It looked as if it took some effort. “He’s lost a lot of blood. They don’t know if he’s going to make it.”
Lance steered Morgan and Bud toward a waiting room. The guard stayed in the hall. “I checked with the nurse. The surgeon will come and talk to us when he gets out of the OR.”
“Can I call someone for you, Bud?” Morgan asked.
He pressed a hand to his lower back. “No. My sister is coming from Manhattan. She should be here in a couple of hours.”
Morgan called home and told her grandfather not to expect her. Lance brought coffee, but the first sip turned sour in Morgan’s belly. Bud paced. Lance called Sharp and updated him. Morgan dropped into a chair to wait. Lance sat next to her. Hours passed in a tense, silent fog. Morgan lost track of the time, but pins and needles in her legs forced her to get up and walk the hallways multiple times. Bud’s sister arrived and paced with him.
A shadow fell across the doorway. Morgan startled to attention as a green-scrubbed surgeon walked into the room, his surgical mask still tied around his neck.
He swept the skullcap off his head. “Mr. Zabrowski?”
Bud nodded, frozen in place in the middle of the room as if he was afraid to get closer to the doctor.
As if he was afraid to hear if Nick was alive or dead.
“I’m not going to lie to you. His injuries are severe. He suffered three stab wounds to the abdomen. The worse of which was the laceration to the liver. We’ve repaired the damage but he lost a lot of blood. He’s received several units to replace his blood volume.” The surgeon paused, his mouth grim. “The next twenty-four hours are critical. He’s young and strong, and he made it through the surgery without any major complications. He’s in recovery now.” The surgeon’s gaze swept the room. “Once he gets settled in the surgical intensive care unit, you’ll be able to see him.” He glanced around the room. “Immediate family only. Do you have any questions?”
Bud shook his head.
“I know it’s a lot to take in. Follow the signs to the SICU waiting room. A nurse will come out and get you after Nick is settled.” The surgeon walked out.
Bud exhaled a long breath and then turned to Morgan. “I’ll call you. Thank you for everything. You’re the only one who believes in him.”
Morgan took Bud’s hands and gave them a squeeze. Then Bud and his sister left the room.
“Come on. I’ll take you home.” Lance put an arm around Morgan’s shoulder.
But her hands began to shake. She rolled her fingers into fists and clenched them to stop the tremors, the stress and fear of the day finally breaking through her control. “No. I don’t want to go home like this.” She glanced at the time on her phone. “It’s midnight.” If she went home now, she’d wake Grandpa.
She felt lost, her limbs loose and uncoordinated, ready to fly apart. The weight of Lance’s arm around her shoulder was all that held her together.
“Can I go home with you tonight?” she asked.
His fingers dug into her arm for a brief second. Then he relaxed. “Sure. Let’s go.”
She let him steer her through the hallways to the exit. The cool night washed across her face. She inhaled, the crisp air a bracing shot of energy in her lungs.
Lance drove back into town and parked in the driveway of a one-story house. He’d been to her house so many times, it felt odd that she’d never been to his. He pushed a button on his visor and opened the garage door.
They got out of the Jeep, and Morgan stared at the neat ranch-style home. “You live close to the office. You could walk.”
“I do if I’m going to be in the office all day, but that’s rare. Usually I’m running around all day. There’s a lot of legwork to the job.”
She followed him into the garage. “Do you like it?”
“I wasn’t expecting to, but yes,” Lance said.
Hockey equipment filled half of the two-car garage.
“You still play?”
“I coach a team of unruly kids. I haven’t actually been on the ice since I was shot.”
Morgan followed him inside. The door opened into a living/dining room combination. The kitchen was straight back, and the hallway that opened off the living room probably led to the bedrooms. The house was neat, almost stark, with minimal furnishings and no decoration. In the living room, a small couch and a recliner faced a TV. But the big surprise was the baby grand piano that took up the entire dining room.
As Morgan followed him back to the kitchen, a creeping and cold numbness slid over her. Her hands started trembling again.