“Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey.”
Morgan jolted upright at the voice, his spine on fire and his head feeling like someone had hit it repeatedly with a sledgehammer. He squinted his eyes to the early-morning sun that poured through the window, glancing up at the man before him. “What time is it?” he said.
“Early,” Gary told him, looking more awake than ever.
“Right.” Morgan groaned and used his office desk to steady himself as he rose and stretched, his body feeling broken. It wasn’t like him to sleep anywhere outside of his own bed, and Rachel must’ve thought it acceptable—for whatever reason—not to wake him. “I don’t suppose there’s really any eggs and bakey?”
Gary swung his head from side to side, grinning like he had a hook in his mouth. “Afraid not. I heard it in a movie once and thought it sounded cool.”
“You were wrong.”
“But I do have coffee.”
As his best friend set down a Venti Starbucks cup, Morgan groaned at the cheeriness in the room. Mornings were simply not his strong suit, and having somebody of the opposite persuasion only made things worse. It made his voice sound like it was booming from an expensive speaker. Nevertheless, Morgan appreciated the coffee. He took it in both hands, immediately picked up on the dash of caramel syrup, and took a large sip. He shuddered at the oversweet taste. “There’s too much sugar in here.”
“Well, I need you perky.”
Morgan set down the cup and folded his arms, leaning against the wall. “Why?”
“Because I—wait… have you been working here all night?”
“Obviously. Why?”
“Just wondered. God, you’re so cranky.”
“You would be too if you had my night.” It suddenly came back to Morgan then. The sound of the woman’s British accent cackling in his ear. The words she’d used against him like a weapon. The threat: don’t you dare. He considered there might be actual weight behind those words, but it was too late now. He was involved.
Morgan took the time to catch Gary up on what’d happened. Gary—unlike himself—kept his mouth shut for the entire duration, only pulling those same repetitive motions of screwing up his face, raising his eyebrows, and scratching his gray-stubbled cheek. By the time they were done, the coffee had gone cold. Morgan thought this was a blessing in disguise.
“He’s alive, then,” Gary finally said.
“That’s what she says.”
“You think she’s telling the truth?”
Morgan shrugged. Honestly, he didn’t know what to believe, but he didn’t want to settle on a decision just yet. If he opened the door to negativity, he wouldn’t be able to bear what was on the other side. Before long, he’d be swamped in pure, good-for-nothing pessimism, and in this line of work that was the same thing as signing a death warrant with a very limited date.
“My fingers are crossed,” Gary said. “But there is good news.”
Morgan stood up straight, kicking away from the wall with his heel. “Which is?”
“I got full details on the car from the security footage. Got an address and everything. Before you get your hopes up, though, remember it was reported stolen a few weeks ago. Still, we shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Want to go check it out?”
“Always.” Morgan swept his suit jacket off the back of his office chair and fed his arms into the sleeves. As tired as he was, and fixated on the news of the car, he didn’t even realize he was doing it. All he could see was the woman driving it out of the parking lot. All he could hear was the taunting cackle from the woman who’d taken it. “Where does that leave us with the MPD?”
“Questions are being asked.”
“And?” Morgan brushed past him and opened the door, padding down the stairs toward the front door with Gary’s footsteps falling close behind. They were outside moments later.
“I’m going to do everything I can to keep them off it for as long as possible.”
“How come?”
“If what you say is true and this crazy chick has Mason Black alive somewhere, we want to keep him that way. The MPD will catch up within an hour or two, but by then Bray will have me running so many errands I won’t find the time to help you. It’s a deliberate move he’s growing too fond of. But I’ve got your back.”
“Appreciate it.” Morgan breathed in the smell of fresh dew on the grass, turning a shy cheek to the bright sun as he made his way to Gary’s car. When it beeped and clunked, he pulled open the door and dropped into the cold seat, rubbing his hands together as Gary fell in beside him and fed the key into the ignition. “I’m guessing we’re going to check out the owner of that car, then?”
Gary grinned. “You guessed right, friend. You guessed right.”