“Yeah.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks.” He had a feeling he was going to need a little luck with this one.
After Riley left, Patrick fired off a text to Morgan.
Patrick:Need to talk to you. Meet me?
He ran back upstairs, grabbed a quick shower and shave, while keeping his phone within reach with the volume turned all the way up. By the time he was dressed, she still hadn’t responded.
Disappointed, he sent another.
Patrick:You around? It’s important
While he waited, he called his dad.
Ian picked up on the second ring.
“Does this have anything to do with what we talked about the other night?” Ian asked when Patrick had explained what he needed. He knew what he was asking. Knew that the request went beyond an expedited ID.
“Maybe,” Patrick said.
A long pause ensued while his father listened to everything he wasn’t saying. Then a soft, “Finally. Bring them by, and we’ll talk.”
Patrick, like everyone else in the clan, knew his father and uncles had access to resources that very few did—including the Pine Ridge PD. Perhaps it was time he did as well.
He checked again. Still no reply from Morgan.
Unwilling to wait any longer, Patrick grabbed his keys and the evidence bags and went.
Morgan’s carwas in the driveway, which gave Patrick a small measure of relief.
Frank answered the door.
“Mr. Sullivan,” Patrick said, pushing down his impatience and drawing upon the manners his parents had drilled into him. “I’d like to speak with Morgan, please, if I may.”
Frank Sullivan looked at Patrick with those dark green eyes, eyes that held approval and just a hint of amusement.
“She's upstairs,” he said, stepping back. “Second door on the left.”
Patrick entered the home and ascended the stairs, fighting the urge to take them two at a time. The need to see her was a tangible thing.
The second door on the left was open.
Morgan was in motion. Her bag was on the bed, half-packed. The small notebook from the bedside table went into the outer pocket. A stack of folded clothes followed.
His chest tightened. Morgan was preparing to leave.
He wasn’t about to let that happen. She’d be safer here, where he could protect her while they figured this out together.
She paused, sensing his presence.
“What are you doing here?” she said, without turning around.
“You didn't answer my texts.”
“I've been busy.”