“What makes you think that?”
“They didn’t before.” Morgan tucked the card in his pocket. “Talk to Shay. He’s got lots of theories.”
Sullivan chuckled tiredly. “That’s not going to happen.” He gestured at Morgan’s pocket. “Keep the card. You might change your mind.”
“I won’t.”
Morgan saluted Sullivan with the half-melted candy bar and headed back into the station. Pitt grabbed him as he came in and shepherded him down the hall. Apparently Mac was waiting for them. Despite himself, Morgan walked faster. He wasn’t curious, but there was an impulse to draw a line under it all.
“This way,” Pitt said as she hustled him into Mac’s office. She hovered at the door until Mac cleared his throat and jerked his head in a clear instruction to leave. Once she was gone, Shay gave Morgan an aggrieved look and then leaned forward.
“Fine,” he said. “He’s here now. What do they say?”
He sounded on edge. Maybe he wasn’t as confident as Morgan that Mac would open the folder and read out….
“Morgan GravesisDonna Calloway’s son,” Mac said compassionately. “Ninety-nine percent. That means youareSammy Calloway.”
Chapter Twenty-One
BOYD THOUGHThe was prepared for whatever Mac would read off that slip of paper.
He wasn’t.
MorganwasSammy. Boyd had considered it in theory as an idea he thought he’d become accustomed to. Now that it was a fact, he realized the enormity of it as it expanded to fill his brain and push everything else out.
After fifteen years, Sammy was home. Somewhere out there was a sad little grave that Boyd wouldn’t have to stand over, bones that wouldn’t catch his breath in his chest until the verdict came back. The how and why of it were still a mystery, but maybe that was for the best. Boyd didn’t think there was room for another thought in his head.
The silence seemed to drag out for a long time, but then Donna wailed and half slid out of her chair. No time at all had actually passed. Shay caught Donna’s arms and pulled her back into the chair, his expression as poleaxed as Boyd assumed his was.
“It’s all right.” Shay awkwardly rubbed Donna’s shoulders. “It’s what you wanted. The news we’d given up. Sammy’s here.”
Boyd reached blindly for Morgan’s hand. His fingers brushed over scarred knuckles, and then Morgan flinched away from the touch.
“It’s a mistake,” he said as he bolted to his feet. His hands were clenched at his sides into big, bony fists. “Or a lie. Is this some fucking windup because I was going to lie to you? Is that what you’re doing?”
Mac set the file down and held his hands up. “Of course it isn’t,” he said. “Morgan—Sammy—the first test was right. This test was right. You are Sammy.”
Morgan shook his head in blanket denial. He stepped back, nearly tripped over a chair, and kicked it out of the way as he headed toward the door. Boyd jumped up and got in front of him, hands up to brace against Morgan’s chest.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” he said. “Just—”
Morgan grabbed his wrists hard enough to make his bones creak and pulled them to the side. There was something bleak and out of control in his face.
“Get out of my way,” he said. “I don’t want to hurtyou.”
Boyd stepped to the side, and Morgan stalked out of the room. He slammed the door behind him hard enough to make the photos rattle on the walls. One slipped free of its moorings and fell the to the floor. It landed on one corner and shattered. Boyd tilted his head back and took a deep, unsteady breath.
He shouldn’t have moved. Morgan wouldn’t have hurt him.
“I… I can’t breathe,” Donna gasped. She tore at the collar of her T-shirt with one hand and shoved away Shay’s attempts to help with the other. “My heart… I can’t….”
She slid off the chair and sat on the floor, hyperventilating as she twisted her fingers in her shirt. Boyd’s conscience and medical training made him crouch down on the floor to check on her. He held her clammy hand to test her pulse and quickly checked her reflexes.
“I think she’s having a panic attack,” he said. “But call the paramedics. I’ll go find Sammy.”
Shay stepped forward. “I’ll come with you,” he said. “I…. If it’s Sammy, I need to talk to him. I mean, heisSammy. That wasSammy. My brother.”
A petty part of Boyd bristled as Shay laid claim to Morgan—as though Boyd had a better one just because he loved him before he knew. He swallowed that.
