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  The defeated woman’s shoulders heaved with her sobs. As Alex comforted her, Rebecca inhaled a ragged breath.

  “We’ll make it as quick as we can.” Morgan stood up and nodded to Donnie.

  “Hallie had credit card receipts from The Blue Room dated August twenty-eighth. Did you go there together?” Donnie asked.

  Redness from crying flushed Rebecca’s cheeks. She peered out from behind her hands. “That’s the jazz club where we first met. Do you think that’s where she met the killer?”

  “It’s possible.” Morgan persisted. “Who would she have been going to meet?”

  “I really don’t know. We lived a very quiet life together. When I was in town, we cooked dinner together and watched movies. I didn’t know she went out without me. She loved me.” Rebecca’s hands went back to cover her face and a new stream of tears.

  Donnie tugged at Morgan’s arm but she resisted.

  “She just needs closure,” Alex said.

  “We’ll see what we can find out.” Donnie moved toward the door and beckoned Morgan to follow.

  “Thank you, Ms. Harrington. We’ll be in touch,” he said.

  CHAPTER 4

  MORGAN

  By the time Rebecca finished telling Morgan what she knew, and by the time Lawrence towed Thomas to the shop and Donnie’s friend, a patrolman, came to pick them up and dropped Morgan off at home, it was after ten o’clock.

  Inside, the house was just as she had left it: boots and socks in a heap beside the garage door and her cereal bowl in the kitchen sink. Her housemates, the Raffertys, had flown south for the winter with the flock of elderly retirees. It was a sweet living arrangement for Morgan, who took care of their house and paid no rent during the months they were in Florida. She went to the kitchen, poured herself a hefty serving of Cabernet, and made microwave popcorn. She took a big swig before carrying the glass and popcorn bowl up to her bedroom. The wine would put her right to sleep. Setting her phone on the bedside table next to the glass, she unbuckled her holster and placed the SIG Sauer 9mm on her dresser along with her badge. She tossed her red scarf on the foot of her bed before sitting down next to it.

  Since the Raffertys had left Morgan hadn’t bothered to clean up or do laundry. The floor had become one big pile of clothes. Like most nights, she didn’t feel like cleaning. As she unbuttoned her shirt, her cell phone rang. She checked the caller ID.

  “Kinda late, isn’t it, Rob?”

  “Hello to you too.” Robert Gibson never called unless he was lonely and horny.

  Morgan picked up her glass of wine. “And it’s a weeknight.”

  “Yeah, well, I was working late and heard about you and your car.”

  “What about my car?”

  “No need to get defensive. I’ve got nothing bad to say about that old beat-up piece of … Toyota.”

  Resigned, Morgan said, “It died tonight. Again. Do you think I need a new one?” She sniffed the rich aroma of her red wine before lifting the glass to her lips.

  “Probably. You gonna need a ride to work tomorrow?”

  Morgan and Rob almost dated. For six months they had seen each other once a week for sex and a drink, but when he wanted more of her time, she couldn’t give it to him. Rob had asked her to move in with him, but she had declined. She couldn’t get her head out of her work.

  “Yeah, I guess I will,” she answered. “You don’t have to go to work early, do you?”

  “It’s okay. I think I’ll be in the area.”

  “You think?”

  “I miss you,” he said.

  “I miss you too, Rob.” She did miss his warm body in her bed. She missed his comforting nature and his friendship.

  “You miss my tongue,” he told her.

  She laughed out loud in agreement. “What are you doing calling me this late? Aren’t you seeing Allie from Child Services?”

  “Ah, that didn’t work out.”

  Rob worked in the Indianapolis Mounted Patrol. He and Morgan had met one year earlier at the Indy 500 while he was on horseback working the event. He was a down-to-earth cop, and the best part of his job was that he had regular hours.

  “So you’re hitting on me again?” She had also missed the light banter between them. What she didn’t miss was the pressure to maintain the relationship.

  “Are Bill and Adrienne gone for the winter?” This one question held so many others. He was asking if she was home. If he could come over. If she would see him tonight.

  A dog barked through the phone line.

  “They’re gone,” she answered.

  “Yes. Hush. Hey, now. Shush,” Rob said.

  “But it’s late,” she said, wishing it wasn’t.

  A dog barked again.

  “It’s not that late,” Rob said.

  This time, Morgan heard a dog barking outside the house. “Is that Gretta barking?” The dog sounded nearby. “Rob? Are you here?” With her free hand, Morgan picked up her glass and padded barefoot down the stairs. She saw a shadow through the frosted panes beside the front door.

  “Will you stop? You’re giving me away,” Rob said to Gretta.

  “What are you doing here?” Morgan peeked through the peephole at Rob’s distorted, enlarged nose.

  “Can I come in?”

  Morgan turned off her phone and shoved it in her back pocket. With one hand, she turned the dead bolt and opened the door. Gretta, a medium-sized shepherd mix, was first to greet her with a wagging tail.

  Rob stood there, handsome and tall. His brown hair was mussed up, and a thin layer of stubble framed his soft lips. “I knew you’d be up,” he said, indicating the glass in her hand.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Are you inviting us in?”

  Morgan squatted on the floor and gave Gretta some loving scratches between her ears. She responded with a smooch and a sloppy lick. “I’ll invite you in,” she said to the dog. “But why’d you have to bring him?”

  Gretta barged forward, heading for the kitchen and making it impossible for Morgan to turn them away.

  Rob removed his coat and hung it on a stool as Morgan poured him a glass of wine. While they caught up, Gretta lay watching them from the floor. An hour later, as the conversation slowed and the wine was drunk, Rob put a hand on Morgan’s back.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  Morgan looked into Rob’s dark-brown eyes. “I’m no good at this. That’s what I think.”

  His hand traveled to her shoulder, and he turned her toward him. Earlier tonight, she’d thought she wanted a man. Now that he was here, she feared the commitment.

  He spoke in a whispered breath. “I missed you, Mo.”

  Morgan couldn’t resist those lips. Her hand moved to his cheek, and she kissed him. His lips were soft, sensual.

  It had been too long.

  CHAPTER 5

  MORGAN

  From a window stage in The Blue Room, a soulful four-member band played the language of lovers. On the cramped little stage, a stout, voluptuous woman dressed in a low-cut, floor-length gown crooned the words to a tune by Billy Holiday as her electric-red lips grazed the microphone. The guitar player, wearing a tattered green army jacket over a tight black tank top, made love to his guitar with his eyes closed. Hunched behind them, a giant wearing a black suit plucked his acoustic bass. The keyboard player with frond-like dread locks pressed his back against the wall to give more of the tiny stage to the others.

  Their music filled gaps in the crowded bar, taking up space where there wasn’t room for anything more. Near the stage, a group of six paid the doorman and filtered into the club, mingling with the existing standing-room-only crowd. Another group waited to be let in to the narrow, runway-shaped nightclub. The bar ran the length of the long wall. Morgan sat in the center of it, where she could see everything.

  Donnie, like the keyboard player, leaned against the wall. Across the room from Morgan, he held a sweaty energy drink in one hand. Morgan had turned on her stool to
see the room and noticed how Donnie wriggled to the music and tapped his foot as the caffeine hit his bloodstream. He wasn’t used to going out this late. Family life and years had settled him down and tamed him.

  Hallie had had a receipt for The Blue Room in her wallet. Rebecca said it was where she and Hallie first met. Once they moved to Danville, they stopped coming to the club. Perhaps Hallie needed more entertainment than she could find in the small town of Danville. Rebecca hadn’t known that when she was out of town Hallie went out alone.

  Because relationships were not Morgan’s forte, she could only imagine the nuances that were necessary to keep love alive. A handful of short-lived relationships—discards—littered Morgan’s past. She swept the memories away to focus on Hallie Marks.

  Applause erupted in the bar.

  “Thank you. All my people, thank you.” The singer scanned the crowded room. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re gonna take a short break. Please stick around, cuz there’s lots more where that came from.” She replaced the microphone on its stand and whispered something to her guitar player.

  Morgan turned on her stool and made eye contact with Donnie as the singer parted the sardined people and headed straight for him. She leaned close to his ear and touched Donnie’s arm in a familiar and seductive manner. Morgan wished she could read her lips.

  Though the band had stopped, the noise level was high. For a weeknight, The Blue Room was packed. She wondered if the band had drawn the crowd.

  “How’s that Coke?” one of the bartenders asked Morgan, raising his voice over the din.

  Morgan swirled what was left. “I’ll take another, please.”

  He took the glass and filled it with a scoop of ice. “What’s a nice girl like you doing in a dump like this?”

  “Dump? Looks like you do good business. Is it always this crowded?”

  “Almost always.” He set the refilled glass on a fresh napkin. “Name’s Mike. Let me know if you need anything else.”

  “Thanks.” Morgan discreetly flashed her badge then leaned forward so she didn’t have to shout. “Can I ask you some questions?”

  Mike nodded. “Figures.” He held his hands in the air like he was under arrest. “I swear, if she—”

  Morgan shook her head and handed him a picture of Hallie Marks. “I was wondering if you’ve seen this woman in here.”

  He took the photo and raised a hand at a customer at the end of the bar. “Hold on a minute,” he shouted then glanced back at the photo and dropped it on the bar. “She comes in here all the time, usually on weeknights. She in trouble?”

  “You could say that.”

  He went back to work, filling drinks and handing out beers.

  “Hey, Mike! Get me a gimlet, will you?” The singer’s voice carried from the far-right end of the bar. Donnie stood next to her waving a twenty-dollar bill.

  Mike reached into the cooler, then passed three beers to a man behind Morgan. He traded for a credit card then slipped over to the centrally located register. He handed the receipt and card back to the man, then asked Morgan, “Hallie, right? On Wednesday nights she sits where you’re sitting now.” Mike looked down at the photo, then moved away to take someone else’s order.

  Morgan looked around the bar. If Hallie was a regular, perhaps her killer was too. Would the killer return here after murdering Hallie?

  The bartender passed another bottle to a customer who traded it for a handful of ones. When he returned, Morgan asked, “Did she usually come here alone? Or was she with friends?”

  He flipped two glasses onto the counter and scooped ice into them. “She was always with her fiancé.”

  “You mean Rebecca Harrington?”

  Mike shook his head, “Who? She’s been dating a tall skinny guy for months. He proposed to her right here.”

  “Really.” Morgan pushed the photo toward him. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. He gave her a ring and everything. Nice-sized diamond.”

  Morgan wondered why she hadn’t been wearing it at the time of her death. Quickly, she jotted a note to have forensics do one last search for an engagement ring. “Got any idea what his name is?”

  He shook his head. “Something happen to her?”

  “Murdered,” she said.

  “Damn.” He stopped pouring to raise his eyebrows and look up at Morgan. “Damn. I mean, no shit. She was just here, right there.” He tapped the bar and shook his head. Returning to his duties, Mike poured from a bottle in one hand and sprayed mixer with the other.

  The singer called from the far end of the bar. “Hey Mike, where’s my gimlet?”

  “Coming, Rosie.”

  Mike took the drinks and set them down in front of Donnie. While they conversed, Morgan studied the room. She singled out a woman with long, blond, straightened hair and watched her lean on a man. Her arm wrapped around his as she laughed. Morgan imagined she was the cheerleader type, with her athlete boyfriend—correction, fiancé. She wore a ring. How easy it would be to lead someone on, wearing their ring. Had Hallie planned on dumping Rebecca? Had Rebecca known?

  When Mike returned, she asked, “Is he here tonight?”

  “Naw. He’d be right up at the bar if he was.”

  Morgan dug into her wallet and peeled out her debit card. She tried to hand it to him, but he pushed it away.

  “Don’t worry about it, the Coke’s on me.”

  “Thanks for your help, Mike.”

  He smiled, “The pleasure’s all mine.”

  CHAPTER 6

  MORGAN

  “How could Hallie have been planning your wedding when she’s engaged to another man?”

  “Rebecca hasn’t done anything wrong.” Alex Hearst took a stance behind her sister, who had crumbled. Rebecca’s head lay on her forearms on the kitchen counter and her shoulders heaved up and down with her sobs.

  Morgan’s feet remained planted on Alex’s kitchen floor. Right now she needed every shred of information Rebecca could give her.

  Alex’s mouth fell open. “Why are you harassing her?”

  “Because she lied to us. I think Rebecca knew there wasn’t going to be a wedding.”

  When Rebecca lifted her head, Morgan looked her in the eye. “I think you knew she was with someone else.”

  Alex took a step to the side, her long flowing pants grazing the floor. Physically she was tall and graceful, the polar opposite to her sister.

  Donnie had taken the stool across from Rebecca. With one finger, he slowly typed notes into his tablet. Morgan needed him there for support. He reduced the tension by saying, “Mrs. Hearst, we don’t have any evidence for an arrest. We’re here to ask questions, that’s all.”

  “Rebecca, I need answers.” Morgan said. “Did you know that Hallie had recently become engaged? To someone else?”

  Rebecca may have nodded. It was hard to tell.

  Davis had gone with the kids to another room, but one must have escaped. Their little girl stood with her cheek pressed against the kitchen door. Alex glanced her way. “It’s okay, Lexie.” The girl ran to her mom and threw her arms around one of Alex’s legs.

  Morgan took a shot. She voiced her suspicion with the next question, hoping it would provoke Rebecca to tell what she knew. Morgan said gently, “Help me, please, Rebecca. I wonder if you didn’t go to bars with Hallie because you two had broken up months ago.”

  “I let Hallie stay at my house in Danville. I thought that maybe she’d eventually want me back,” Rebecca said.

  Alex had lifted her daughter up on her hip. “Rebecca is living with us. She’s been staying here for two months. Hallie invited Reba home after Ohio. Right, Reba?”

  “Hallie wanted to talk. She even said she missed me. When she told me to come home, I thought we’d be getting back together.” Rebecca turned the wadded-up Kleenex in her hand.

  “Is something wrong with Aunt Reba?” The girl asked. Alex put a shushing finger to her mouth.

  “Hallie walked all over you, didn’t she?”
Morgan persisted. Rebecca’s head finally came up. Her eyes, more swollen than ever, had leaked a puddle of tears on the granite countertop. “She was still wearing my ring!”

  The statement touched Morgan’s heart. Nearby, a box of tissues sat on the counter. She handed the box to Rebecca, who nodded a thank-you and used a clean one to dab at the continuous stream pouring from her eyes. By now, Morgan suspected that Rebecca’s tearful behavior was an act of avoidance. The woman couldn’t face the real fact: Hallie hadn’t loved her. But this gave her a motive to kill Hallie, tears or not.

  Rebecca had been in transit between news stories on the night Hallie was killed. Her cameraman verified her statement. She’d done a story about the green movement in Springfield, Ohio. Organic farms and sustainable farms there were influencing eastern Indiana farmers. The story had aired about the same time Hallie was killed. Rebecca was no longer a suspect, but she was withholding crucial information.

  Morgan said gently, “You know Hallie was seeing someone else, but you failed to tell us.”

  Protectively, Alex draped her free hand over Rebecca’s shoulders. “Do you have to do this now, Detective? Look at her.”

  “Mrs. Hearst, I will ask you to leave the room the next time you interrupt,” Morgan said, less harshly than she intended.

  “No. Please let her stay.” Slumped on the stool, Rebecca sniffed.

  “Then answer the question.” Morgan was pissed off enough to raise her voice. “Who was the man in Hallie’s life?”

  Rebecca held the crumpled tissue to her cheek and moaned. “She saw lots of other people. There was Charlotte. There was an Ed or Edward, and someone named Ceecee. She never talked about them. Why would she?” She reached for a new tissue.

  “I think his name was Edmund, not Edward.” Alex offered. “Or something like that.”

  “Are you sure?” Morgan asked. She nodded toward Donnie, who typed it into his notes.

  After blowing her nose, Rebecca cried: “She was having affairs. She was cheating on me. And I wanted to marry her. I loved her.” More tears.