The deputy led her inside the room and steered her toward a chair.
Anger surged through Morgan’s veins. “Remove those handcuffs.”
The deputy spun Haley around like a doll and unlocked the cuffs. The girl didn’t rub her wrists or flex her fingers the way that most suspects did when freed from handcuffs. She just stood there, barefoot and shivering, her arms hanging limply at her sides.
Morgan went to her, wrapping the rough blanket more tightly around her shoulders. “Where are her shoes?”
The deputy shrugged. “Locked up with her personal possessions. The heels were pointy.”
Holding cells were rarely, if ever, cleaned. They were commonly covered in feces, vomit, and urine, and Haley had been left in one in her bare feet. More scare tactics from the sheriff?
The deputy left the room, locking the door behind him.
Taking the girl by the shoulders, Morgan guided her to a chair and eased her down into it. The girl wouldn’t meet her gaze but stared at her hands instead.
“Haley, I’m Morgan Dane. Your mother hired me to be your lawyer. Do you know why you’re here?”
Shrugging, Haley picked at her thumbnail. Blood oozed from the skin. Morgan took the girl’s hands in her own. Haley’s were ice-cold. Her nails had been painted dark blue, but the polish was peeling, and her nails were bitten below the quick.
“How do you feel? When was the last time you took your medication?” Morgan lifted the blanket. She didn’t see any serious injuries, but a few bruises dotted Haley’s pale, bare leg. Her feet were as filthy as Morgan would expect.
Haley’s breath hitched, but she remained silent, shifting her focus from her hands to a spot over Morgan’s shoulder.
Morgan crouched in front of the girl and rubbed her shoulders. “Are you hurt?”
For the first time, Haley’s gaze rose to meet Morgan’s, but the expression in her eyes looked distant. Several seconds passed before Haley seemed to fully focus.
She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
Think?
“Haley, do you know where you are?”
The girl sniffed and nodded. “The police think I killed Noah.” She might be an adult, but her voice was as soft as a child’s.
Morgan’s nerves chilled. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“I woke up. I was naked. There was blood on me. On everything. A trail went out the bedroom door. I followed it. My dress was in the family room on the floor. I couldn’t find Noah. Then I did, and he was . . .” She groaned, bent double, and retched.
Morgan moved a plastic garbage pail from the corner to Haley’s side. But the girl straightened and shook her head.
“You stayed at Noah’s house Friday night?” Morgan asked.
Haley lifted a thin shoulder. “I guess so.”
“You guess? You don’t remember?”
She shook her head. “I was at that new club, Beats, with Piper. I remember talking to Noah. I liked him.” Her chest heaved with a breath. “I think I went home with him. Then I woke up in his bed.”
“How many drinks did you have?” Morgan asked.
“I don’t remember.” She winced. “But I never have more than two.”
Not enough to cause even a petite person to black out. Did her condition affect her ability to metabolize alcohol? Or had she been drugged?
Haley had been seen leaving the club with Noah at one a.m. Saturday morning. If Haley had been slipped a drug, two and a half days had passed since she’d consumed it. That was far too long for many date-rape drugs to remain in her system. But there was still a chance.
Morgan stood, turned, and banged on the door, her own pain numbed by adrenaline and fury. The deputy opened the door.
“I want to see the sheriff,” Morgan demanded. “Now.”
The deputy withdrew. Morgan heard the scrape and click of the door lock.
A few minutes later, the door opened, and Colgate stepped inside.
“Is my client under arrest?” Morgan asked.
“I expect the arrest warrant shortly.” Colgate’s eyes narrowed warily. “The preliminary autopsy just came in. The DA is reviewing it.”
“Haley has no memory of Friday night. She needs to be seen by a doctor immediately.”
“Now she’s claiming amnesia? How convenient.” Colgate all but rolled his eyes. “She didn’t claim to have amnesia when I interviewed her.”
“Someone could have slipped a date-rape drug into her drink at the club. We both know it happens all the time. Or her Addison’s disease could have flared up.”
Colgate looked past Morgan at Haley. His face hardened. “I know you’re a pretty slick lawyer, but even you can’t spin these facts to favor your client. She isn’t the victim here. She buried a knife in Noah Carter’s belly.”
Haley flinched as if he’d struck her.
“She doesn’t remember what happened.” Frustration clipped Morgan’s words. “She needs to be examined at the hospital. Though if she were drugged and/or raped, it might be too late for the lab to confirm because you held her all weekend without doing anything.”
Colgate’s jaw sawed.
Morgan had had it. “If she isn’t under arrest, I’m taking her to the hospital. I also want her to have a SAFE exam.” Sexual assault forensics examiners were specifically trained to collect and preserve evidence of sexual assault. “Regardless of what did or did not happen to Haley, a SAFE nurse is the best chance at recovering trace evidence or DNA.”
Colgate couldn’t argue with that. He propped his hands on his hips. “I’m not letting her out of my custody. I’ll have a deputy take her to the ER, though I think it’s a bullshit claim. She doesn’t have a scratch on her.”
Muttering under his breath, Colgate turned away.
“Time is of the essence, Sheriff,” Morgan called after him. But she already feared it was too late.
Chapter Seven
Plastic chairs and vending machines formed a small waiting area at the end of the hall in the emergency department.
Lance leaned on a snack machine, assessing the pallor in Morgan’s face and the slight trembling of her fingers, which she was working hard to hide. “You should be resting.”
“I know.” She sniffed, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “There’s nothing I’d like more than to go home and focus all my attention on an entire pint of Ben & Jerry’s. But if I let go now, I’m not sure I could pull myself together again.”
Her gaze broke away and traveled the hallway to where a deputy stood guard outside the room where Haley was being examined. The deputy had balked at being told to wait outside. But once he realized the ER staff was going to collect a rape kit in addition to treating Haley, he’d backed off after making sure the exam room had no other exits. The previous sheriff had been very old-school. There were no female deputies.
The situation was unusual. Normally, the person being examined was the victim, not the accused. But seriously, where was Haley going to go? She was sick, and she barely weighed a hundred pounds. She wasn’t going to overpower the nurses and escape.
Lance didn’t even want to think about what was going on inside the room. Collecting a rape kit involved an invasive exam that lasted several hours. The victim was swabbed and photographed in exactly the places she had been violated. Even with a specially trained nurse, the procedure was traumatic.
Morgan drew a shaky breath. “It’s bad enough that I got knocked on my butt in the courthouse and Esposito had to save me from my own client. Haley needs a tough lawyer today. If the sheriff or prosecutor’s office smells weakness, my bargaining power on her behalf is diminished. We both know that part of my job is an act, and I’ll be honest with you, I’m having a really hard time staying in character.”
“I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand.” As much as he wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, he respected her need to maintain her professional reputation.
He respected her. She was the strongest person he’d ever met. And underneath all that determination and intelligence was a heart of gold. Morgan was a rescuer. She took care of three small children, her elderly grandfather, and two stray dogs; and last summer, she’d opened her home to a sick young woman waiting for a kidney transplant. That girl had grown well enough that she now insisted on serving as Morgan’s live-in nanny, but no matter how much Gianna tried to earn her keep, there was no denying that Morgan was the one taking care of her.