Lance scanned the vista. “What’s on the other side of that gate?”
“A hiking trail that leads to an overlook.” Haley’s voice was wistful. “The view is spectacular. Mom and I go down there a few times a week.” She frowned at her ankle monitor. Who knew how long it would be before she could hike again?
“The overlook trail gets popular in the summer,” Eliza added, “which is why we have the lock on the gate.”
“Have you hiked down there?” Lance asked Sharp.
“Yes, last night,” Sharp said. “On the other side of the overlook, the trail picks up again and leads up to a small parking area on the road about a half mile from here. It’s not a difficult hike. I walked it in the dark with a flashlight. The terrain will not be a deterrent for a determined photographer.”
A strong telephoto lens could even capture a decent shot from the other side of the ravine.
“I’ll check the trail when I leave tonight.” Lance rubbed his palms together. “Let’s get these windows covered.”
“I’ll get the sheets.” Eliza left the room.
Sharp fetched a ladder from the garage. They hung the sheets with duct tape. When all the glass—and the view—was covered, the stunning room with its million-dollar vistas became claustrophobic and depressing.
Haley might not be in jail, but she definitely wasn’t free. Her beautiful house had become an expensive prison.
Chapter Fifteen
Watching Eliza pour coffee, Morgan perked up. Her own Pavlovian response?
Haley drank pale-purple liquid at the island, but her gaze kept straying to the sheet-covered windows.
“I need to ask you some questions today,” Morgan said.
“I know.” Haley sipped her drink. “I’m sorry I was so stupid when we talked before. My head gets foggy when I’m off my meds.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Morgan scanned her. Haley wore the sweater Eliza had brought to the hospital the day before. She obviously hadn’t been home long enough to shower or change clothes. “Have you eaten anything?”
“Not yet.” Haley shook her head. “Mom is making me dinner. But I desperately want to shower.” She lifted her foot and shook it. A black band encircled her ankle. “They said this was waterproof, right?”
“Yes,” Sharp answered. “You can shower, but don’t submerge it.”
“OK.” Haley sighed, her posture sagging. “I feel like a zombie. I don’t know how to feel. It’s all . . . too much. I can’t take it all in.”
“I know, but I need to ask you some questions,” Morgan said gently. “Get your shower first.”
The poor girl.
Morgan couldn’t imagine sitting in a holding cell for days, barely dressed, in bare feet, and then spending the night in jail. Neither could she imagine the quiet, slender girl stabbing a young man to death.
“OK.” Haley exhaled, a long and depressed sound, as she turned and left the room.
“Is her room safe?” Lance asked.
“Eliza has a top-notch security system,” Sharp said. “The house has steel doors, reinforced doorframes, and heavy-duty dead bolts. No one is getting in easily.”
“Good. I’m sure she needs a little alone time to process the last few days.” Morgan perched on a stool.
Eliza handed her a cup of coffee and sat next to her. “I feel so helpless. What do we do now?”
“We investigate.” Morgan drank her coffee. “Do you need to travel any time soon?”
“No.” Eliza jumped off her stool to pace. “Haley is my number-one priority. I have very good employees in my Manhattan location and a full office in the house. I can run the company from here.”
“Good. Here’s the plan.” Morgan set down her cup and checked her phone. “The evidence is starting to come in from the DA’s office. We’ll spend tomorrow reviewing it. We’ve already ordered some background checks. We’ll add more as the investigation progresses. Lance, Sharp, and I will interview witnesses and hire experts to go over all of the state’s evidence. We will review every report word by word looking for weaknesses. Our goal is to poke as many holes in the case as possible.”
“It sounds like you believe Haley is guilty and just want to destroy the prosecutor’s case,” Eliza said. “My daughter is innocent. I want to prove that.”
Morgan nodded. “That’s our ultimate goal, but we don’t have to adhere to such a high standard. We only need to show that the prosecutor hasn’t proven her guilt.”
“I don’t want her to get off on a technicality,” Eliza argued. “Her life will be ruined. We need to find out who really killed that young man. I know the law says she’s innocent until proven guilty, but we all know that’s bullshit. We need to find the real killer.”
“That would be optimal,” Morgan agreed. “And we will do everything in our power to do just that.”
Haley returned to the kitchen in flannel pajama bottoms and a sweatshirt.
“Is there somewhere quiet we can go to talk?” Morgan reached into her tote for her notepad and a pen. She wanted Haley to speak freely, and Morgan thought her best chances for honesty would be if she and Haley were alone. There were things a woman might not want to say with her mother or men she didn’t know well in the room.
“My bedroom.” Turning away, Haley led her up the steps to the upstairs hall. “My mom’s room is downstairs. I have my own space up here.”
Her bedroom was a suite, with a large private bath and sitting room, complete with desk, big-screen TV, and a small sectional couch.
Haley flopped onto the sofa.
Morgan sat on the other leg of the L. “First, I want you to relax and tell me everything you remember about last Friday night. Start from when you left the house. No detail is too small. Just picture it in your mind and tell me what you remember.”
“I’ll try.” She took a deep breath as if preparing herself. “Piper and I took an Uber to Beats. It was her birthday, otherwise I would have stayed home. I don’t like clubs much.” Her story didn’t waver as she described having an alcohol-free cocktail and dancing with Piper. “Then I ran into Noah. He consulted on a new website for the bank. I’d met him a couple of times.” She paused, plucking a tissue from a box on the end table. “I liked him—too much, I guess, because I let him buy me a drink, then I totally blew off Piper to dance with him. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Do you know what time that was?”
“Maybe ten?” Haley didn’t sound sure. “I wasn’t paying attention to the time.”
Piper had remained at the bar for about an hour after Haley deserted her.
“Then what happened?” Morgan asked.
“He bought me another drink. We ate nachos. We danced some more. Then it all starts to get fuzzy.” Haley frowned. “Yesterday and today, I’ve been remembering pieces of the evening, but I still have significant blank spots.” Haley closed her eyes. “I tripped on my way out of the club and banged my leg. It hurt, so when we got to his place, I asked him for an aspirin and ice.” She opened her eyes. Her expression turned bittersweet, then confused, then devastated. “He was really nice. I don’t understand what happened.”
“Is that the whole memory?” Disappointment filled Morgan as she noted the explanation for the bruises on Haley’s leg. She’d been hoping Noah had gotten violent, not that he’d been sweet.
“No. He took me to his house, put me on the couch, and got me an ice pack. Then I wanted something salty. I took extra medication because salt cravings are a warning sign that I need it. Noah brought me water and some chips. We went into the family room. Noah turned on the TV. But I don’t remember what was playing. We were kissing . . .” Her face darkened. She shuddered. “Then I have a big blank space until I woke up.”
Shivering, Haley pulled a fleece blanket bearing a university logo across her legs. “The rest of the weekend is fuzzy. Even finding Noah doesn’t feel like it was real. Everything until I was treated at the hospital is hazy. I haven’t felt that Addison’s brain fog in a long time. I never let myself get that sick.”