Save Your Breath (Morgan Dane #6)(9)



Sharp relayed the information on the phone, then turned and walked a few feet away.

Lance holstered his gun, took his phone out of his pocket, and began taking pictures. If questions arose regarding the death, he wanted his own records. The police didn’t always want to share, and once law enforcement arrived, the vehicle would be off-limits.

Crouching, he squinted at the spatter of gore on the inside of the windows. Along with blood, bits of bone and brain matter were stuck to the glass. Lance bent lower to get a better view of her face and head. Her eyes were open and empty. He checked the passenger-side windows but saw no sign that a bullet had been fired into the vehicle.

On the passenger seat, a brown purse sat open. The Glock 43 on the floor was a lightweight, compact 9mm—a solid choice for concealed carry. Had the woman taken her handgun from her purse?

Lance went cold from the inside out. Mrs. Olander had likely been carrying that gun during her meeting with Morgan. A shoe scraped on the pavement behind him. He turned to see Morgan standing a few feet away. She rubbed her arms. Her slim gray skirt and silk blouse offered little protection against the morning chill. Her long black hair was coiled at the nape of her neck.

“Who is it?”

He stood and blocked her view of the body. “The woman who just left your office.”

“Is she all right?” She tried to look around him.

He shifted, putting a hand on her arm. “No. There’s nothing anyone can do. She’s dead.”

Morgan’s face froze in horror for a few seconds. Then she shook her head. “I don’t know why that’s a surprise. We heard the gunshot.”

She’d been a prosecutor for years, and they had worked several murder cases together after she’d opened her own criminal defense firm. She had seen dead bodies before. She didn’t need to be sheltered, but doing so was a reflex for him.

He dropped his hand, and she walked around him. He watched her steel herself as she examined the body and vehicle. Sadness creased her face. Morgan never lost her empathy. Her refusal to be hardened to violence and its impact on the innocent made her job tougher, but it also gave her the passion to fight for her clients.

Her mouth flattened. “Suicide?”

“Probably.”

She shot him a glance.

“This is not your fault,” he said.

“I know.” But responsibility was all over her face. The heart didn’t always believe what the brain told it.

“I mean it.”

“She killed herself within minutes of leaving my office.” Morgan hugged her waist. “She said I was her last hope, and I refused to take the case.”

“This is not your fault,” Lance repeated in a stronger voice.

A siren sounded in the distance, and he put his phone in his pocket.

Sharp lowered his phone too. All three of them stepped a few feet farther from the vehicle. A Scarlet Falls PD patrol vehicle parked a few yards from the minivan.

Officer Carl Ripton climbed out. Lance and Sharp had worked with Ripton on the SFPD. Carl verified the victim was dead, then approached Sharp, Lance, and Morgan. “What happened?”

“We heard a shot.” Sharp gave Carl a quick summary of the discovery of the body.

Carl returned to his patrol vehicle to make calls. A few minutes later, he returned with a small notepad and pen. He separated Morgan, Lance, and Sharp, took a statement from each of them, and asked them to wait on the sidewalk.

“The ME is on his way.” Carl retrieved a camera from his vehicle and began taking pictures and notes.

A half hour passed before the medical examiner and Morgan’s sister, Detective Stella Dane, arrived. Stella and the ME examined the body and conferred with Carl. The ME’s team unloaded a gurney from the back of the van. It was already outfitted with an open black body bag. Neighborhood looky-loos were gathering on the sidewalk. People craned their necks, trying to see the body.

Stella glanced at the gawkers, then turned to Morgan, Sharp, and Lance. “Can we go inside to talk?”

“Certainly.” Sharp led the way through the front door. “I’ll also pull the surveillance camera feeds for you.” He turned into his office.

“Perfect.” Stella followed Morgan and Lance back to the kitchen.

Stella sat down at the table next to her sister and produced a small notebook from her pocket. “Tell me about your client.”

“Mrs. Olander wasn’t my client,” Morgan corrected. She detailed her meeting with Mrs. Olander. Lance corroborated Mrs. Olander’s arrival and departure times.

“So no one saw her after she walked out the door,” Stella clarified.

“That’s correct.” Morgan nodded.

Sharp returned with his laptop and set it on the table. “It’s all here.”

He tapped on the keyboard to wake the computer. The screen came to life, and Sharp clicked “Play.”

On the screen, Mrs. Olander walked out of the office, crossed the street, and got into her minivan. Once she closed the vehicle door, her figure became a blur behind the glass. She seemed to sit still for a while. Lance imagined her staring through the windshield, full of hopelessness. Then her shadow moved.

The silent splatter on the inside of the window made them all flinch. Lance’s stomach turned over. No one spoke for a few heartbeats.

Sharp cleared his throat, then pointed to the screen. “Both cameras in front of the house actually cover the minivan, but the other one is at a bad angle. All you can see is the reflection of the sun. I’ll give you both videos, though.”

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