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Morgan’s face was sheet white when she hurried up the steps to Lane’s brownstone.
Having been pacing around waiting for her, Lane opened the door before she reached it. He waved to O’Hara that all was well as he let Morgan in, shutting the door behind her.
She blew by him, shock and indignation vibrating through her, then came to a halt in the living room, her back to him.
“Morgan?” Lane went over, gripped her shoulders, and turned her around to face him.
Her pained gaze searched his face. “Did you know?”
“Know what?”
“That Karly was Janice. That Arthur was her lover. That Jonah is their child.”
Lane did a double take. “Jonah is Arthur’s son?”
“Yes.” Some of the tension abated. “You really didn’t know?”
“Not a clue.” Lane’s mind was racing. “But now I understand why Monty was so guarded on the phone. He must know. And he wanted me to hear it from you.”
“Oh, he knows.” Morgan told Lane about the meeting Monty had orchestrated at his office. “According to Arthur, Karly hired your father to make sure he fulfilled an obligation he would have fulfilled anyway if he’d known Jonah was his son.”
“Sounds touching.”
“Right.” Morgan’s fists clenched at her sides. “Do you know how much self-control it took for me to sit there and listen to Arthur paint himself as the victim in all this? Remember, I read my mother’s journal entries. I know what really happened between him and Janice—Karly. I know how old she was, how much she wanted her child and its father, and how devastated she was when the man she loved blackmailed her into getting an abortion and getting out of town. The whole thing makes me sick.”
Lane guided Morgan over to the sofa and gently pushed her into a sitting position. Then he poured a glass of wine and brought it over.
“Here. This’ll help.” He put the goblet in her hand. “What can I do?”
Morgan tipped back her head, looked up at him. “You’re doing it.” Tears glistened on her lashes. “I watched Elyse crumple before my eyes. It was heartbreaking. But you know what? I think she knew about Karly—just like she knew—knows—about all his women. She barely flinched during that part of his grand confession. It was only when he announced he had a son, and that Jonah was that son, that she fell apart.”
“What about Jill?” Lane asked. “How did she handle it?”
“Jill’s amazing. She sat very quietly while her father talked. She was fighting back tears. But her only concerns were Elyse and Jonah. Do you know she actually interrupted the discussion to call the hospital and see how Jonah was doing? It’s like she already feels a bond and a responsibility to him. Clearly, she doesn’t take after her father.” Morgan’s tone was laced with bitterness, and she paused, making a concerted effort to let it go. “Anyway, I believe she’ll be relieved when the truth leaks out. Then she can really reach out, get to know her half brother. That’s just Jill. She’s got the biggest heart I’ve ever seen. And right now, it’s breaking for her mother.”
“I can understand that.”
“Me, too.” Shakily, Morgan raised her glass to her lips. “Thanks for the wine,” she murmured, taking a sip. “God knows, I need it.”
“You’ve had a rough couple of hours.” Lane lowered himself to the sofa cushion beside her. Wrapping an arm around her, he tugged her head to his shoulder, threading gentle fingers through her hair.
“Rough is putting it mildly,” she murmured. “I feel like I’m in the Twilight Zone. And the night’s still young. I have a call in to Karly, asking her to get back to me as soon as she’s up to it. And Jill’s on standby, ready to let me know the results of the cross-matching the instant they have them.”
“I checked in with the hospital about five minutes before you arrived,” Lane reported. “Jonah’s holding his own. He’s not great, but he’s not worse, either.”
“Well, steps have been taken to remedy that. Arthur’s blood sample is on its way. We should know soon.” Morgan set down her glass of wine and kicked off her boots, curling up with her cheek pressed against Lane’s sweater. “I feel like I’m on a roller-coaster ride that’s never going to end. It’s one steep drop after another.”
“It only seems that way because the ride’s still going. But it’ll stop. You’ll get off. And the world will right itself again.”
“Maybe eventually. But not yet.” Morgan twisted around, looked Lane straight in the eye. “Truth time. You’re privy to almost everything Monty knows. I need answers. Are there any more red flags that might tie Arthur to my parents’ murders?”
This was the moment Lane had been dreading. He’d known it was coming. And he hated what his answers would do to her. But he wouldn’t lie. She’d been lied to enough already.
“Yes,” he responded. “There are. Too many to suit me. Right now, I’ve got some specifics Monty doesn’t, and I suspect the same is true in reverse. He’s coming over here later, and we’ll pool our information. But even without combining two sets of facts, there’s just too much smoke for me not to believe there’s fire.”
Morgan’s jaw set as she visibly steeled herself. “Tell me everything.”
“The night your parents were killed, Arthur was gone from the Kellermans’ party for a while,” Lane relayed quietly. “The woman he told Monty he was with has been dead for seven years, so she can’t corroborate his story. And to make matters worse, the hours he gave us for his vanishing act don’t coincide with what I’m seeing in the enhanced photos.”
