Save Your Breath (Morgan Dane #6) - Melinda Leigh Page 0,44

desperate for the tiny source of light. Sweat soaked her pajamas, and fear nearly choked her.

Her hand hit the wood of the bottom tread. She crawled upward. How many steps until the light? She turned, sweeping her hands across the wall of the stairwell. Her fingers touched the plastic disc.

Please work.

She pressed it. The light came on, and tears of relief flowed down her cheeks. She barely felt the fresh pain throbbing through her cheek.

What was he going to do to her?

She didn’t want to find out. But how could she get past him? He was armed, and she had nothing but the clothes on her back.

Chapter Seventeen

Lance’s pulse pumped as he sprinted down Second Street and turned left. His running shoes hit the blacktop in an even rhythm. He checked his watch. Sharp had promised to close his eyes for thirty minutes. Lance had been staring at his computer screen for hours and had wanted some air.

Checking his watch, he made a U-turn and jogged back. Morgan was climbing out of his Jeep. She rose onto her toes and kissed him.

He held his body away from hers. “I’m sweaty.”

“I don’t care.” She kissed him again. “Where’s Sharp?”

“I talked him into a power nap.”

“Good. He was looking ragged.” Morgan raised an eyebrow at his sweat-soaked T-shirt. “You went in a whole different direction.”

“I slept a little last night, and I needed to clear my head.”

She shook her head. “I had a huge breakfast, lots of coffee, and donuts.”

“We all do what works for us.” He opened the door, and they went into the building.

Morgan put a finger to her lips and pointed. The door to Sharp’s office was open. He was still asleep. Lance figured he’d be awake in another ten minutes.

He followed Morgan into her office. “How were the kids?”

“Fine. You were right. I feel recharged.” She set her tote on her desk. “Grandpa is reviewing the Franklin files. I’m still plugging away at the Olander material, and I’m meeting with Esposito at noon.”

It didn’t surprise Lance the ADA would be in his office on a Saturday. For the prosecutor, weekends were often used to prepare and review for trials.

“Good luck with that.” Lance held on to his opinion that the ADA was an asshole.

Morgan was a softie. A few months back, Esposito had showed a few signs that he could be a decent human being, and she was ready to believe in him. But then, believing in people is what made her a great defense attorney. Lance knew she’d been a successful prosecutor but suspected she was even better on the defense side of the courtroom.

Lance collected clothes from his office and took a two-minute shower, not bothering to shave. Dressed in clean cargos and a long-sleeve T-shirt, he went back into his office. His phone beeped, and he read a text message from his mother. She wanted to video chat.

He dropped into the chair behind his desk, opened the app on his laptop, and called her. She accepted the call, and her face appeared on the phone screen. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hello, dear.” She was in her office, as usual. Lance’s mother still lived in the same house in which he’d grown up. Her mental illness had likely always been present, but after his father had vanished when Lance was ten, Jenny Kruger had withdrawn from the world.

On the screen, she smiled sadly. “I’m so sorry to hear about Olivia.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Lance angled the screen to see her better.

Stress and time had not been kind to his mom. She looked older than sixty-one. But since she’d started virtually dating a man from her group therapy session, her eyes—and outlook—seemed brighter. Today, her gray hair was combed, clean, and almost shiny, and she was wearing lipstick. She must have been video chatting with her manfriend, Kevin. Before Kevin, Lance had never seen his mother wear makeup. Kevin worked in computers and had many of the same anxiety issues as Jenny. Their relationship made her happy, and that was all that mattered to Lance.

“I haven’t finished with the background reports yet,” she said. His mom taught online computer classes and designed, maintained, and secured websites. She also helped with the online legwork in some of their more complex cases. “But I wanted to give you an update.” She opened a file. “I’ve been working on Olivia’s investigative pieces. I found several articles exposing people of criminal wrongdoings. In the past ten years, Olivia’s stories directly resulted in three people going to