Say You're Sorry (Morgan Dane Book 1) Page 18

  Questions fired through his mind. Would the guards see? Were there cameras in the cells? Nick had never ventured inside one.

  Were they going to kill him?

  Trying to block the raining fists, Nick squinted around his forearms. One man was delivering the beating, but others watched from the doorway. They seemed to be standing guard.

  A punch connected with his ribs. He couldn’t protect his head and his torso at once. Primal instinct sent a blast of energy through him. He was going to die if he didn’t fight back. As shitty as his life was, he couldn’t just let it go.

  Nick rolled a shoulder to cover his face. He lashed out a hand. His fist connected with his attacker’s body.

  The guy got to his feet and delivered a kick to Nick’s ribs. The pain just about split him in two. He coughed and wrapped his hands around his middle. When the foot came in for a second kick, Nick grabbed the ankle and pulled. Surprised, his attacker went down on his back. Nick scrambled to his feet, his chest heaving, his lungs crying for air.

  Blood dripped down his face and onto his uniform. He almost went after his attacker, and then stopped when he recognized Shorty—and saw the three larger inmates in the doorway. They helped Shorty to his feet. Then the four of them stared at Nick.

  What. The. Fuck?

  He couldn’t take them all on.

  His chest heaved. He wiped a hand across his face and waited. A few long minutes passed until one of the men tossed Nick a towel. “Get yourself cleaned up before the guards come in.”

  Nick nodded and wiped his face. The four men stepped aside and let him out.

  Two guards burst through the door. One eyed Nick’s face. “What happened?”

  Snitches get stitches.

  Had that been some sort of test?

  “I tripped,” Nick said.

  “No one attacked you?” they asked, scanning the room.

  “No,” Nick lied. “These guys were just helping me up.”

  The guard frowned. Clearly they didn’t have cameras inside the cells, just in the main room, and the inmates all knew it.

  Who’s fucking stupid idea was that?

  “You’re sure?” the guard asked.

  “Yep.” Nick wiped his nose.

  The guard frowned, not convinced. “You need to go to the infirmary?”

  Nick shook his head. Dizziness swam in his head. “I’m good.”

  The guards shot a warning look around the room. Shorty wasn’t in sight. Nick wondered if his knuckles were bleeding. He limped to the toilet and relieved himself. Returning to his mat, Nick put his back to the wall. He huddled on the mattress, pain and cold blotting out every other sense.

  And waited.

  He might have to spend a year or more in this place. The thought of living out the rest of his life in a concrete box made him want to throw up.

  Or kill himself.

  Today he’d received a beating. He had no idea why.

  Or what was next.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  He lifted his binoculars and watched the three girls standing at the edge of Scarlet Lake. He guessed the girls were about sixteen. The sun reflected off the water like a mirror. One girl handed something to her friend. A joint?

  He adjusted the focus of his binoculars to zoom in on the girl’s face.

  Yep. They were passing a joint around.

  He shifted his aim lower. Tight yoga pants cupped tighter asses. He licked his lips. A hand slid down to his crotch. He rubbed himself through the fabric of his pants before giving in to the urge and lowering his zipper.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  Frustrated, he zipped up.

  There was no doubt about it. He needed to replace Tessa.

  He’d thought coming back to the place where she’d died would help with his self-control by reminding him that all actions had consequences. And that he absolutely had to stay out of trouble until this whole mess blew over. But he hadn’t counted on those girls and their skintight pants.

  He’d wanted to be alone at the lake. To reflect. To get a fucking grip.

  He’d been prepared to share the beach with dogs and families. But pretty girls brought back memories of Tessa. Not just of her death, but of all the things he’d done with her.

  To her.

  The girls finished their joint and turned away from the water. He followed them with his binoculars as they walked toward a car in the parking lot. The one on the left had long blonde hair. Tall, blue-eyed, and stacked, she was as different from Tessa as possible.

  The blonde slid into the driver’s seat. They drove away, and he lowered the binoculars after memorizing the license plate of the car. How hard would it be to find out her name?

  He knew he needed to wait. It was too soon. But in reality, how long would he be able to keep his shit together?

  He’d come to the lake to get a grip on his need, but he’d ended up stoking it higher.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  In the passenger seat of the Jeep, Morgan blinked the tears from her eyes. Her grief was ramping up this week.

  Lance was still holding her hand. The gesture was simultaneously comforting and terrifying, and she fought both the desire to snatch her hand away and crawl into his lap.

  She shouldn’t be surprised that she wanted some comfort. She’d thrown away her job. Her neighbors hated her. After two years in a holding pattern, she’d turned her entire professional life into a train wreck in the course of a single week.

  And Lance seemed to want to be there for her. In high school, he’d kept his emotional distance, and she hadn’t pressed him for a deeper relationship. They’d been young, and she’d had her own family issues. But the adult Lance was harder to resist. The more time she spent with him, the more he opened up to her.

  The more she liked him.

  He put his mother’s welfare ahead of his own desires. He made real sacrifices to care for her, and he did it freely and without resentment. He was willing to help Morgan solve Nick’s case, and she knew that if Bud couldn’t pay, Lance would still be in.

  He was a man you could count on. A man she could count on.

  But this wasn’t the time. Regret pinged in her heart as she pulled her hand out from under his. All her focus needed to stay on Nick and his defense. When it was over, she would reassess her personal life. A few months ago, she hadn’t thought she’d ever be attracted to another man. But she had to admit it—she definitely was.

  She turned to study Lance’s profile, her gaze sliding from his face over his muscular chest and arms. She definitely liked what she saw, and there was no mistaking the fact that her girl parts were perking up.

  He gave her a quizzical look. “What?”

  “Nothing.” She turned away, her face hot.

  “Any return call from Jacob’s father?” Lance asked.

  “Let me check. He’s an attorney, so it wouldn’t surprise me if he makes us wait a bit just to show he can.” Morgan pulled out her phone. “That’s what I would do. There’s always some game-play involved with lawyers. But he knows we’ll just get a subpoena, so in the end, he’ll cooperate.”

  “That’s annoying.”

  “That’s the legal system.” Morgan opened her email account. “I’m surprised. Jacob’s father returned my email already. He wants to meet.”

  “Where?”

  “Let me call him.” Morgan made the call and got an immediate response. A minute later, she ended her call and lowered the phone. “He says we can drop by the house now.”

  “Maybe he isn’t a game player.”

  Morgan shook her head. “He’s a lawyer. He’s playing an angle. I just don’t know what it is, which makes me uncomfortable.”

  “It’s sad that our legal system is a game,” Lance said.

  “Isn’t it?” Morgan said. “I’ve spent most of my career trying to figure out the other side’s ulterior motive.”

  “Doesn’t that get old?”

  “Faster than you can imagine,” Morgan agr
eed.

  “Then why do you do it?”

  “Today, I’m doing what I do for Nick,” Morgan said. “I just know in my heart that he’s innocent. That’s never happened before in my career. I’ve always been convinced that the people I’ve prosecuted were guilty. But this time is different in every way.”

  “Then we won’t stop until we solve the case. Where to next?” Lance stopped at an intersection, and Morgan gave him the address of the Emerson residence.

  “That’s in your neighborhood. Do you know the Emersons?”

  “No. My grandfather knows both the Emersons and the Palmers in passing but not well. Grandpa isn’t a social butterfly.” And since she’d moved back to Scarlet Falls, Morgan had avoided people as much as possible.

  “Does he have an opinion on Jacob Emerson?” Lanced asked.

  “Grandpa has an opinion on everything,” Morgan said. “But he’s probably had more contact with the parents than their teenage son. The only reason Grandpa knows Tessa and Nick is because they both were in our house regularly.”

  As Lance turned down the Emersons’ street, a BMW parked in the driveway. A young blond man climbed out of the car and disappeared into the house.

  “That looked like Jacob,” Morgan said.

  “I wonder where he was.” Lance parked the Jeep at the curb in front of the Emersons’ house. “What’s our approach?”

  She gathered her tote and thoughts. “I’ll ask questions and take notes. I want you to watch them both. Facial expressions. Body language. Just like it was with Kevin Murdoch, their words will only be part of the story.”

  They walked up the driveway and rang the bell. A maid in a gray uniform admitted them. Built of cedar and glass, the house sat on high ground with a stunning view of the river. Morgan had thought her grandfather’s view was prime, but it didn’t compare to this one. The maid led them to the back deck, where Mr. Emerson and his son sat at a round table.

  Seventeen-year-old Jacob was blond and athletic. Sitting next to his father, he had none of the arrogance he’d displayed in the fight video. He wore a blue polo shirt, dark jeans with no holes, and boat shoes. Forty-eight-year-old Phillip Emerson, in gray slacks and a white shirt, looked as if he’d just walked off the golf course. His blond-and-silver hair was cut short. They both stood as Lance and Morgan stepped outside. The maid moved aside as introductions and handshakes commenced.

  “Would you like an iced tea?” Mr. Emerson asked.

  “Yes. Thank you.” Morgan accepted, hoping the polite and social feel of the meeting would spill over into cooperation.

  The maid disappeared. Morgan and Lance took seats at the table. The maid returned in a minute and set a glass in front of each of them.

  “First of all, I’d like to thank you for your cooperation,” Morgan said.

  Mr. Emerson flashed a cold smile. “We both know you can subpoena my son. While we can be civilized about the situation, let’s not pretend it’s anything other than a legal requirement. My son has already told the police what he knows. You’ve no doubt already read his statement. He’ll answer all your questions as required by law, but nothing more.”

  “We appreciate your candor,” Morgan returned. She opened her tote and pulled out a notebook, where she’d jotted down a list of questions. She’d let the interview guide itself, but there were specific points where she wanted to compare today’s answers to Jacob’s original statement.

  Mr. Emerson leaned his tanned forearms on the edge of the table. “I’m also well aware that this is a fishing expedition. You’ll grab hold of anything that might cast doubt on your client’s innocence. I won’t let my son be Nick’s Hail Mary pass. So please keep your questions on point.”

  Morgan nodded. So much for cooperation. What had she expected? If she proved Nick innocent, someone else had to be guilty. Mr. Emerson was well aware that his son, as Tessa’s ex-boyfriend, would be high up on the list of alternative suspects.

  “Jacob,” she began. “You attended the lake party last Thursday night?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Jacob folded his hands in his lap.

  “What time did you arrive?” she asked.

  “I don’t know exactly. I wasn’t checking the time.” His words were careful.

  “Can you give me your best estimate?” she asked.

  “Shortly before nine o’clock,” Jacob said.

  “Were you the first one at the party?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “Who was already there?”

  “I don’t remember.” He didn’t break eye contact, but there was a slight twist to his mouth and a gleam in his eye that felt . . . mocking.

  As if he was lying.

  And he was good at it.

  She moved on. “When did Nick and Tessa arrive?”

  “I wasn’t watching the clock so I can’t give you the time.”

  Morgan tried to pin him down. “Before or after you got there?”

  “After,” he said.

  Morgan made a note. She set down her pen and gave him her full attention. “Can you tell me what happened between you and Nick?”

  “Nick and Tessa arrived at the lake. I said hello to her. She said hi back. Nick jumped between us and told me to stay away from her. He shoved me. I shoved back. We exchanged a few punches. It was over quickly. Nick and Tessa left. I stayed for another hour or so, and then went home.” Jacob recited this part without inflection, as if he’d memorized it.

  “Were either of you injured in the fight?” she asked.

  Jacob gave his head a slight shake. “I wasn’t.”

  “What about Nick?”

  “It was dark. I couldn’t see,” Jacob said.

  Morgan changed her tactic, trying to elicit an emotional response. “Why do you think Nick got angry when you greeted Tessa?”

  Mr. Emerson broke in. “There’s no way for my son to know what the other boy was thinking.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just trying to understand what happened.” Morgan nodded. “Jacob, did you consume alcohol at the party?”

  Jacob’s gaze dropped to the table. Real shame or fake? “I had a couple of beers.”

  “Do you think your judgment was impaired?” Morgan asked.

  Mr. Emerson leaned forward. “Please be specific, Ms. Dane. Exactly what do you mean by impaired?”

  “Did you fight with Nick because you were drunk?” Morgan asked.

  “I fought with Nick because he attacked me.” Jacob’s enunciation sharpened with irritation. Finally, a reaction.

  “And all you said to Tessa was hello?” Morgan pressed.

  But Mr. Emerson butted in. “Already stated.”

  Jacob’s expression shuttered, his father’s interruption giving him time to smooth the annoyance from his face.

  Morgan returned to her list. “What did Tessa and Nick do next?”

  “They left.” Jacob’s voice had returned to its monotone.

  “Did they drive or walk?” she asked.

  He answered without moving. “They drove.”

  “His car or hers?”

  “His.” For a guy who said he wasn’t interested in Tessa, Jacob had been watching her every move.

  “Tell me how the rest of the night played out.” Morgan set down her pen and watched him.

  “I stayed at the party for a while, then I went home.” Jacob was going to make her drag every answer from him.

  “Did you see Nick and Tessa again that night?”

  “Yes. They came back to the party later,” Jacob answered. “They argued.”

  “Did Nick leave before Tessa?”

  “I don’t know. I wasn’t paying attention.” Jacob returned to his fallback position.

  Morgan pretended to check her notes. “Tell me about your relationship with Tessa.”

  Jacob shrugged. “We didn’t have a relationship. We dated a couple of times last spring, but we weren’t into each other. I’ve known her for years. My relationship with Tessa was more brother-sis
ter.”

  Mr. Emerson’s smile was sad. “My wife and Tessa’s grandmother thought they would make a handsome couple.”

  “So you hadn’t spent much time with Tessa in the past few months?” Morgan clarified.

  Jacob shrugged. “Not really.”

  Morgan closed her notebook. “That’s all the questions I have for you right now, Jacob, unless there’s anything else you want to tell me?”

  He shook his head.

  “Then thank you both for making time to see us this afternoon.” Morgan rose and offered them both her hand. Lance, Mr. Emerson, and Jacob stood when she did.

  The maid showed them out. Morgan waited until they were in the car. “Well?”

  Lance started the Jeep and pulled away from the curb. “I don’t trust that kid. I didn’t feel sincerity coming from him. How did his answers match up to his police interview?”

  “This is from Jacob’s police statement.” She cleared her throat and read. “Nick and Tessa arrived at the lake. I said hello to her. She said hi back. Nick jumped between us and told me to stay away from her. He shoved me. I shoved back. We exchanged a few punches. It was over quickly. Nick and Tessa left. I stayed for another hour or so, and then went home.”

  “That sounds like what he said today.”

  “It is exactly the same statement. Word for word.”

  “So? His dad is a lawyer. Of course he coached him.”

  “You’re right. I should have expected it.” Morgan stuffed the notebook into her bag. “Do you still have the video of the fight on your phone?”

  “Yes.” He handed it to her and gave her his passcode.

  “When I interviewed Nick, he said that he punched Jacob because Jacob knocked Tessa down when she tried to break up the fight.” Morgan pulled up the video and played it. She watched the scene play out exactly the way Nick described. “Jacob conveniently left that out of his version.”

  “He has a very selective memory.”

  “You picked up on that too?”

  “Yes.” Lance drummed his fingertips on the steering wheel. “He remembered everything that made Nick look guilty.”