“Jack’s a good man. What did you talk about?”
She looked at him. “The town, mostly.”
Frank nodded once, slowly, as if that made sense.
“You know him well,” she said. It wasn’t a question.
“I do.” He turned his spoon in the bowl. “We did some work together, Jack and I.”
“What kind of work?”
The corner of his mouth moved. “The kind you don’t talk about.”
Morgan looked at her grandfather across the kitchen table. She thought about Ian’s back room. The way Ian had stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, comfortable. She thought about Patrick saying that his father, uncles, and grandfather had been Navy SEALS.
Had Frank been a Navy SEAL too? She filed it under “missing pieces.”
“They’re good people,” Frank said. “The Callaghans. Good family to have in your corner.”
He’d said it to be reassuring, but Morgan didn’t see it that way. “I’m not sure my corner is a good place to be. I’m worried about what I might have brought here. To your door.”
Frank looked at her steadily with those dark green eyes, the same ones she saw in the mirror every morning, his expression unconcerned. “Trouble’s been to my door before. It always moves on.”
She didn’t believe it was that simple.
She also, inexplicably, felt better.
Her room wasdark and quiet when she finally went upstairs. Shadow had followed Frank, but she knew he’d find his way to her by the time she brushed her teeth and slipped under the covers. She’d become fond of the furry bed hog. His presence was comforting, though she would grumble and pretend she didn’t because that was their routine.
She sat on the edge of the bed and checked the forum.
Still nothing.
She checked her email. Checked the forum again. Reread the entire thread, looking for something she might have missed the first two dozen times.
She hadn’t.
She knew evidence didn’t process itself on a convenient timeline. Ian had said he’d reach out when he had something, which meant there was nothing to do but wait, and she was not—had never been, would never be—someone who waited well.
Having a personal stake in the answer made time pass even more slowly.
She lay back on top of the covers and looked at the ceiling.
Her thumb moved before she’d finished deciding to let it, hovering over Patrick’s number. OverDeepTrace’s personal number. She was still wrapping her mind around that one. But it tracked.
She’d been drawn to his posts from the moment she’d started reading them, appreciating his methods and insights. She hadn’t expected him to be so physically attractive though. Or so charming. Or solikeable.
She tapped the text icon.
Morgan:Any word?
She knew it was too soon. She knew he’d tell her if there was anything to tell. She knew it was nearly midnight and there was no professional reason to reach out to him.
She sent it anyway.
Then she put the phone on the nightstand, face up, and stared at the ceiling some more.
Shadow appeared in the doorway a few minutes later, right on schedule, and jumped up to settle against her legs. She moved her hand to his side without thinking about it. Maybe Frank didn’t let the dog in bed with him. Or maybe the beast sensed she needed something to pet.