Krys began to protest that there was only one man she could be referring to, but then she stopped. “I forgot you had a whole slew of uncles,” she confessed. “I’m talking about the one I first met when this whole thing got started. Your Uncle Sean.”
Morgan’s smile was genuine. “I’ll be sure to let him know.”
“I didn’t say that so you could flatter him,” she pointed out. “I just wanted to say that I thought he was a really nice guy.”
“He is,” Morgan told her. “Especially given what he’s gone through when he was younger.”
That immediately piqued her curiosity. “Why?” she asked. “What did he go through when he was younger?”
Morgan remembered hearing the story when he was a lot younger. “Uncle Sean was the one who the hospital had gotten mixed up at birth.”
They were on the first floor now and she stared at Morgan as they got off the elevator. “Come again?”
“When Uncle Sean’s mother, my grandmother, gave birth to him, there was another baby born in the hospital at the exact same time. Somehow, because of their same coloring and size, not to mention that the parents’ last names were similar, Uncle Sean and the other baby were mixed up at birth.”
“So what happened?” Krys asked. “How did the mix-up finally come to light?” She couldn’t begin to imagine how that had all gotten untangled.
“Well, it didn’t, not for a long time, actually. As it turned out, the other baby, the one the family all thought was Uncle Sean, died before his first birthday. The funny thing was, Grandpa’s wife always swore there was a mix-up, that the baby the hospital handed to her wasn’t hers.
“Eventually, thanks to DNA tests, the mistake finally came to light, although not before Grandma died. As for Uncle Sean, he always claimed that he felt as if he was ‘different’ from the family he was supposedly ‘born’ into. Eventually,” he told her, “mistakes surface, even if it does take a long time.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “Certainly can’t say that you people aren’t interesting,” Krys commented.
He thought of the phone call he was planning to make later on in the evening, once Krys finally went to bed. Uncle Andrew was really going to enjoy meeting this one. “No, you certainly can’t say that.”
She gave him a look. “I know what you’re trying to do.”
The first thing he thought of was that she had guessed he was going to ask his Uncle Andrew to throw a party introducing her to everyone despite her protests, but he decided not to admit as much until she confronted him with it.
“And what am I planning to do?” he asked as he drove Krys to her home.
She answered him seriously. “You’re trying to divert me with these bits and pieces of family history so I’m not focusing on the fact that the person I thought was trying to kill me turned out to be dead and we’re back to square one.”
Morgan was about to deny it, then thought better of it. “I guess you caught me,” he told her. “Seems like this is one time a Kowalski is smarter that a Cavanaugh.”
“I don’t know about smarter, but at least I know when I’m being snowed,” she told him.
“I guess I won’t try to do that again,” he said innocently. “Want to pick up something to eat on the way home?”
“Are you in the mood for Chinese?” Krys asked.
“I’m in the mood for food,” he answered. “It doesn’t matter what kind.”
“Okay,” she agreed with a grin, appreciating what he was trying to do, “mystery food it is.”
Chapter 15
Morgan looked over toward Krys’s desk. She had been sitting there for most of the evening. She’d even eaten most of her takeout Chinese dinner there while working on her laptop. So far, he had noticed her head drooping at least three separate times. At least one of those times he had been certain that she had fallen asleep, but then her head had popped up because she had managed to wake herself.
“Maybe you should think about packing it in and going to bed,” Morgan suggested when he saw her subtly trying to smother a yawn.
Krys looked as if he’d just insulted her. “I’m a little too old to need someone telling me to go to bed,” she informed him. “And I wish you’d stop doing it.” It was not the first time he had told her that she should go to bed. She was particularly irritated because deep down, part of her agreed with him, but she’d be damned if she was going to come right out and say as much. “But hey, if you’re so obsessed about being tired, maybe you’re the one who should go to bed.”
Morgan merely smiled at her. After all the time he had put in on stakeouts, he was well versed in the fine art of catching a few winks whenever they were available.
“Don’t worry about me,” he said to Krys. “I can always grab a catnap or two whenever I feel the need for one.”
Krys squared her shoulders. “Well, the same goes for me,” she informed him, struggling to stifle another yawn. “As a matter of fact, I’m as fresh as a daisy.”
Right, he thought. If that daisy was about to fold up and wilt. However, wanting to avoid an argument, he kept his opinion to himself.
Five minutes later, Krys gave up the ghost and had closed her eyes again. This time, though, they remained closed. The sound of the dedicated journalist’s even breathing told him that she had lost her battle against Morpheus.
While she had been busy trying not to fall asleep, Morgan had been busy with his own work. He had been reviewing all the available surveillance footage that had been gathered from the nearby area where Claire had gone for her morning jog. When he finally spotted something that looked like it might provide a clue as to what had gone down, he enlarged it.
Staring at
