“You were worried about her?” This was news to him, Morgan thought as he got out of the vehicle on the driver’s side.
“Well yes, sure.” From her point of view, that only made sense. “I’d be gone for months at a time and she was back here, by herself. I mean, she had friends she could turn to if something was wrong, but that’s just not the same thing as having family to depend on,” Krys stressed. She was very protective of her twin sister. She always had been.
He thought about that for a moment. “True,” Morgan agreed as he opened her door for her. “But,” he went on to point out, “not all families are the kind you can depend on.”
“I guess it’s lucky for my sister that yours turned out to be the kind that is.” She walked up to her front door.
She thought she noticed the patrolman Morgan had posted sitting across the street in his vehicle. She was still being watched even though Morgan was acting like her own personal bodyguard. It made her realize that he really did think she was still in danger.
“Well, like it or not, you’re part of that family now, too,” Morgan told her.
Her brows drew together over the bridge of her nose. “You mentioned that before,” she recalled, “but I thought that really only happened if you married a member of the family.”
He did his best to keep a straight face as he told her, “I’ll have to look at the bylaws about that, but I think there is some leeway in the rules.”
Krys’s frown deepened as she put her key into the door and unlocked it. “You’re laughing at me,” she accused Morgan.
“No, I’m laughing with you,” he told Krys, unable to keep a wide grin from curving the corners of his mouth.
“There’s only one problem with your defense—I’m not laughing,” she pointed out.
Morgan turned the doorknob and pushed the door open for her, then stepped to the side to allow her to enter first. “Let’s go inside and I’ll remedy that.”
Suddenly, Krys thought as she went inside and felt Morgan’s arms slip around her, she wasn’t nearly as sleepy as she thought she was.
“I don’t believe it,” Krys cried as she got off the phone with the online editor who had been overseeing this latest controversial project of hers. The editor had initially okayed the assignment even when everyone else had been inclined to shut it down or advised her to walk away from it.
Krys had gone into the precinct with Morgan today so that he could continue working with his team. They were still searching for what had happened to the mystery woman who had apparently vanished from the hospital after the infamous killer had been pronounced dead. So far, no one in the police department had been able to locate her.
Working her own sources, Krys had just terminated her call and was looking far from pleased, although Morgan thought he picked up a note of momentary victory in her voice—but he just might have been reading into it.
Looking up from what he was doing, Morgan asked, “What don’t you believe?”
She was still shaking her head, stunned. “After all the time I put in, all the people I interviewed, trying to get enough evidence to get Weatherly Pharmaceuticals to pull that so-called ‘miracle’ drug of theirs off the market because it just seemed to be too good to be true, Jacobs himself,” she emphasized, “just issued a statement that said, due to certain abnormalities that came to light in this very last round of testing—completed late yesterday, mind you—the company has decided to pull the drug off the market until such time as they can determine whether or not this drug is actually as beneficial to the patients as it was originally thought to be.” Her brows narrowed. “In other words, they’re willing to admit that the drug was misrepresented.”
Morgan looked at her. Why did she look so angry? He didn’t understand.
“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” he asked. “That was what you wanted, right? It was what your gut had you believing all along, right?” he pressed. He would have thought it was a win-win situation in her eyes, not something to be upset about, which she clearly seemed to be.
“Right,” she answered, snapping out the word.
Okay, something was definitely wrong, Morgan thought. He had gotten to know her well enough to be able to pick up on that.
“But?” he asked when she didn’t continue. She raised a brow in his direction. “I hear a ‘but’ in your voice.”
She didn’t know if she felt like kicking something, or ultimately celebrating. “Jacobs just issued the statement ten minutes ago,” she informed the detective grudgingly.
Morgan shook his head, at a loss. “I still don’t hear the problem.”
Right now, she was angry enough to spit. “If that CEO was the one who issued the statement—voluntarily—and apparently he did—then he couldn’t have been the one who tried to have me killed so that he could stop me from bringing this thing to the public’s attention.” She all but spit the words out.
Shifting in his seat, he considered the basic reasons that would make a man call off something that he had pinned all his hopes on—not to mention the company’s projected skyrocketing profits.
“Maybe he had no choice. It’s one thing to try to silence one annoyingly pushy journalist—his thoughts undoubtedly, not mine,” Morgan told her with a wink. “It’s an entirely other thing when it involves other board members bringing it to his attention and worrying about how this would affect the company stock, not to mention the company’s portfolio and reputation if it really did fail to deliver.”
She looked at Morgan, feeling frustration all but throbbing through her. She knew she didn’t have to say this. He knew this just as well as she did. It was just taking all the
