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“No wonder she was such a mess after you left. Monty, don’t rub her nose in Arthur’s indiscretions. It’s painful enough as it is.”
“I’m hunting down a killer. That takes precedence over being sensitive to a wife with a cheating husband. I’m sorry. But that’s the way it is.”
Morgan searched the hard lines of his face. “You were hunting down a killer seventeen years ago, too. That didn’t stop you from being compassionate.”
“You were a helpless, traumatized child whose entire world had been shattered. Elyse is a full-grown woman who’s chosen to stay in a complicated marriage. Defenseless victim. Victim who allows herself to be victimized. There’s no parallel.”
“Fair enough,” Morgan had to acknowledge.
“I’ll set up a meeting with Arthur for tomorrow morning. I need some answers. Once he provides them, I’ll have a better idea where we stand.” Monty frowned, his gaze returning to Lara’s business card and note, and the Post-it that had accompanied it. “Any way you look at it, this note was written by your mother and the business card it’s wrapped around was meant for the recipient, not just plucked off a reception desk. People don’t scribble their home phone numbers on random business cards.”
“The logical assumption is that they were meant for one of the women my mother worked with at the shelter.” Morgan chewed her lip. “Maybe Barbara would know.”
“Barbara. She’s the woman you mentioned at that counseling center—Healthy Healing.”
“Yes. She knew my mother—and the women she worked with—very well.”
“I want to talk to her.”
“It’s after five. But I’ll see if she’s still in her office.” Morgan opened her cell phone and punched in the number for the Healthy Healing Center. She reached Jeanine, explained the situation, then agreed to hold on. Covering the mouthpiece with her hand, she murmured to Monty, “Barbara’s away until tomorrow night. I spoke to her assistant and explained how important this is, and that it concerned my mother. Jeanine is trying to reach Barbara on her cell phone to make special arrangements.” She tugged her hand away from the phone. “Yes, Jeanine? Sunday would be great. Please thank her. She can call me anytime tomorrow tonight, no matter how late, to nail down a time and place.” Morgan hung up.
“Sunday?” Monty’s brows raised. “That’s pretty dedicated.”
“That’s Barbara.”
“Good. So I’ll have a busy weekend. Arthur tomorrow and Barbara on Sunday.”
“I don’t want to be there when you interview Arthur.”
“You shouldn’t be. No one should. This is a private conversation. Arthur and I will find a private place to conduct it.”
“I’m not sure I want to be there when he gets home, either.”
The sound of a key turning in the front door lock interrupted their discussion.
“I think your solution is about to walk through that door,” Monty replied.
An instant later, Lane strolled in. He saw them, stopped, and blinked in surprise. Then he nonchalantly leaned back outside, glanced at the number on his building, and gave a decisive nod. With that, he reentered the brownstone, plopped down his camera bag, and shrugged out of his parka. “This is my apartment,” he announced. “I was just checking.”
“Sorry,” Morgan said with a rueful grin. “I didn’t mean to invade your space. Something came up and I needed to see your father ASAP. He was working here. So I showed up in a panic.”
“No apology necessary.” He winked. “You’re the intruder I could get used to coming home to. No offense, Monty.”
“None taken.”
“And why the panic?” he asked Morgan.
She sighed. “It’s a long story.”
“You can fill Lane in after I cut out of here.” Monty stood up and stretched. “Which I’m about to do. I got what I needed. Thanks for the use of your computer.”
“No problem. But what was so urgent that it couldn’t wait till you got to your office?”
“A pressing telephone-number search.” From behind Morgan’s back, Monty shot Lane a “later” look. “How was the skydiving?”
“Incredible.” Lane got the message and went with Monty’s subject change. “Great form, great weather, great footage.” His gaze flickered to Morgan. “But I was ready to head back. So was Arthur. And Jonah’s a little under the weather, so even he’d had enough. Obviously, I missed something significant at this end.”
“We haven’t found the killer. Anything less than that doesn’t count as significant.” Monty grimaced. “Puzzling, yes. Complicated, definitely. As they say, the plot thickens. In any case, I’m outta here. I’ve got a ton of paperwork to go through. I’ll do th
