four mugs.
Morgan didn’t argue, even though Lance knew she’d rather have coffee. But then, maybe she was as queasy as he was. Besides, they all knew when Sharp went into mother-hen mode, there was no stopping him. Sharp was not satisfied with living his own neo-hippie lifestyle. He wanted to pawn it off on everyone around him.
Sharp poured.
“Thank you.” Stella added a teaspoon of sugar to her cup.
Sharp’s phone rang, and he excused himself, leaving the room to answer the call. His voice faded.
Stella wrote a few notes, then pocketed her notepad. “Considering the video and other evidence, Mrs. Olander’s death appears to be a suicide. I don’t see any sign of foul play.”
“The woman was clearly despondent about her son’s conviction,” Morgan added, her voice riddled with guilt. Lance covered her hand with his, and she gave him a small smile of appreciation.
“I’ll let you know when the ME finishes the autopsy and issues an official cause of death.” Stella’s cell buzzed, and she glanced down at it. “I have to go. So much crime. So little time.”
“Where’s Brody?” Lance asked.
Stella was one of two detectives in Scarlet Falls.
“He’s on vacation,” she said. “He and Hannah are drinking rum on a beach in Aruba.”
“Good for them.” Lance rose to walk Stella to the front door. He could see Sharp in his office, talking on his phone. An unusual stiffness to his posture caught Lance’s attention.
Sharp turned, his eyes grim.
Something’s wrong.
Chapter Five
“Take a deep breath.” Sharp tried to calm Mrs. Cruz, but the fear in her voice gripped his gut like a fist.
“Olivia gave me your number in case of an emergency,” Mrs. Cruz said. “I hope it is all right to call. I don’t know who else to contact.”
Emergency?
The pit of Sharp’s belly chilled. “What’s wrong?”
“Olivia was supposed to be here hours ago to take me to the doctor, but she never came.” Mrs. Cruz spoke faster, urgency speeding up her words. “I thought maybe she had car trouble. My husband drove me to my appointment. But I’m back home now, and Olivia isn’t answering her cell phone or her house phone.” Mrs. Cruz wheezed. “She would never forget me.”
“No, ma’am. She wouldn’t.” Sharp ran a hand over his fresh buzz cut. Possibilities spun in his mind. After twenty-five years on the SFPD, he immediately thought of worst-case scenarios. But scaring Mrs. Cruz would be pointless and cruel.
“What time was your appointment this morning?” Sharp asked.
“Nine thirty,” Mrs. Cruz said, the pitch of her voice rising.
Sharp checked the time. Eleven thirty. “Maybe she had a flat or her car broke down.”
“She would have called.” Mrs. Cruz blew away his suggestion.
“There are spots with poor cell reception between here and Albany. I’ll go looking for her right now.”
“You’ll call me if you find her?” She sniffed.
“Of course. Try not to panic. I’ll call you soon.” Sharp disconnected. He dialed Olivia’s cell. The call went to voice mail. He left a message. Then he sent her a text just in case she was in an area with poor reception. Sometimes a text would go through when a call would not. Even though she rarely answered her home phone—only her mother and telemarketers used that line—he tried that number too. After three rings, her digital answering machine picked up. He left her a message there as well.
He shoved the phone back into his pocket and returned to the kitchen. Stella was gone. “That was Olivia’s mother.” He explained her news to Morgan and Lance. “I’m going to her house. Olivia told me about that appointment last night on the phone. She’d intended to be there.”
“I’ll come with you.” Lance fell into step beside him. They walked to the door.
The medical examiner’s van blocked the driveway to Sharp Investigations. Two morgue assistants were wheeling a gurney to the back of their vehicle. The body had been zipped into the black bag.
“You two go.” Morgan’s brows lowered. “I’ll stay here in case Carl needs anything. Let me know if you find Olivia.”
“Will do. Thanks.” Sharp took his keys from his pocket.
“I’ll drive.” Lance headed for his Jeep, parked at the curb. “Your car is blocked in.”
Reluctantly, Sharp followed him, putting his keys away.
“Morgan is inside if you need anything, Carl,” Lance said on their way past.
“Thanks,” Carl called. “I’m waiting on the tow truck.”
With a wave at the cop, they climbed into Lance’s Jeep. Lance steered around the ME’s van and drove the short distance to Olivia’s house.
Lance parked in front of her bungalow,