Vulnerable (Morgans of Nashville) (16 page)

“Very.” She cleared her throat, needing to run for the cover of work details. “Where’s Rick?”

“He was at the Palmer Motel searching a room belonging to Scott Murphy. They found Elisa’s backpack in the room.”

“Really?” Adrenaline surged through her muscles. She lived for moments like this. “Any sight of this Murphy guy?”

“No. He’s gone and officers on scene are waiting for the forensic team.”

She glanced at her phone. “I’ve not received a text yet. I should be on the scene.”

“Last I checked, you’re not the only one in the department.” He shifted, standing between her and the elevator. “Scott Murphy fits Jenna’s sketch, so he’s using the image and going door to door in the motel.”

She tapped an impatient finger on her belt. “You said this Scott Murphy guy vanished.”

“He can run, but he can’t hide from me for long.” He slid the phone in his pocket. “I’m very sure your buddies in the lab will lift all kinds of good DNA.”

She checked her watch. “Four o’clock. I bet Brad got that text. He was hoping to get out of the office on time today.”

“Join the club.”

The doors opened and Dr. Heller appeared. Georgia liked the pathologist, who moved with a quiet efficiency that she found calming. If Georgia had to classify herself she’d be a tornado. Dr. Heller was smooth calm waters. Jake, well, he was an earthquake. He turned everything upside down.

“Looks like a party today,” Dr. Heller said. “I’m flattered you could join me.”

They followed her up to the exam room and each donned gowns and gloves before joining Dr. Heller in a tiled exam room. In the center of the room lay two sets of skeletal remains. Bones, darkened to a muddy brown by time and the damp cave were laid out in anatomical order side by side. One glance at the smaller set of bones with the wide pelvis and delicate brow line confirmed what she had suspected in the cave. The bones were female. The other set was markedly larger and clearly those of a male.

Her gaze settled on the empty spot that should have held the right femur bone of the female. “We bagged everything in that cave.”

Dr. Heller, her athletic frame now swallowed by a green gown, nodded as she linked gloved fingers together. “I don’t see signs of trauma on the adjoining bones. No saw or ax marks to suggest that the killer dismembered the body. But there are small gnaw marks at the end of the femur. My guess is an animal burrowed in from some small crevice in the cave and chewed on the body.”

Georgia grimaced, trying not to picture a wild animal defiling the remains of Bethany Reed. “Do you know how she died?”

“It’s as I expected. She was stabbed.” She lifted a rib bone that would have rested near the heart. “See the slash mark here? That’s a knife mark. Someone drove a knife from above her into her chest.”

“That someone would likely be taller,” Georgia said. “Like Mike.”

“Sure, but that’s assuming she was standing when she was stabbed.” Dr. Heller shrugged. “She was also struck very hard on the back right scapula and the back of her skull. The blows would not have been enough to kill her, but would have knocked her to her knees.” She raised the triangular-shaped scapula bone and pointed to weblike fractures.

“She fell to her knees first,” Georgia said as she tried to visualize the last moments of Bethany’s life.

“Maybe,” Dr. Heller replied. “It would have been an incredibly painful blow.”

“What was she hit with?” Deke asked.

“Hard to say exactly.” She pointed to the center of the fractures. “The contact area is tight and circular. Perhaps a hammer or a palm-sized rock.”

“And then the killer moved in front of her and drove a knife in her chest,” Georgia said.

“That would be my guess,” Dr. Heller said. “We’ve photographed the bones and have examined them, and I won’t need to hold onto them much longer. Mrs. Reed and Mr. Marlowe are anxious to take custody of the remains so that they can hold funeral services.”

“When will you release the bones?” Deke asked.

“In a day or two. I released Elisa Spence’s remains to her parents a couple of hours ago. They’re planning on cremation and no ceremony, but it’s my understanding that Mrs. Reed is planning a funeral and I don’t know Marlowe’s plans yet.”

Georgia understood the pain of burying a parent but thankfully not a child. “Those families have suffered enough.”

Deke shook his head. “They’ve got some closure. That counts for a lot.”

“That’s not enough. I want their killer more than ever now.”

A grin tugged the edges of his mouth. “You sound like Buddy.”

“Really?”

“More every day.”

“Thanks. I think.” As she stared at the large bones, she visualized the file photographs of the tall young man with broad shoulders and a square jaw. “What’s Mike’s story?”

“He was shot in the head just above the left temporal lobe as you suspected. No other wounds or damage to the body.”

“I searched the cave floor and found the bullet lodged in the dirt.”

Dr. Heller lifted the skull and moved to a side counter where she picked up a long narrow rod. She inserted the rod into the hole in the temple and out the one at the back of the skull. “This is the trajectory of the bullet.” She held a pointed finger as if it were the barrel of a gun to the temple. “The slight downward trajectory suggests it was fired at close range. He would have died instantly.”

“An execution,” Deke said.

“I would have bought the murder/suicide angle if not for the Spence body,” Georgia said.

“Agreed.”

“I’m running ballistics on the bullet. I’ve done my best to pull up the serial number on the gun but no luck.”

“Let Bishop break the news to Marlowe about the manner of death. I don’t know who the hell killed those kids, but right now everyone is a suspect, even Marlowe.”

“Understood.”

“Any remains of clothes found with the bodies?”

“Zippers. The rest rotted away. The zippers are from standard jeans that could be purchased in any box store.”

“And the necklace was dangling from the rocks, correct?” Dr. Heller asked.

“Yes. I’m still trying to figure that one,” Georgia said. “Damn thing’s hanging there almost like a grave marker for Bethany.” Georgia couldn’t imagine the terror the girls endured in their last moments. “Deke, have you fed the details into ViCAP yet?”

ViCAP, an FBI national database stood for the Violent Criminal Apprehension Program. The system was not as perfect as many on the outside thought. Not all jurisdictions across the country entered data into the system. Many of the smaller municipalities were short on funds and manpower

Deke shook his head. “I’m holding off until I have a few more details. Fingerprints from the motel would be a big help.”

“There will be dozens, and we’ll have to sift through what’s found.” Impatience nipped at her as she thought about the shifting and digging it would take to find a fingerprint match.

“I have uniforms canvassing the area around the coffee shop with the picture Jenna drew,” Deke said. “A few people think they saw him but no one has any specific details. The guy knows how to blend.”

“We need to sift through the fingerprints in that motel room. We’ll focus on the ones on the remote, any food or drink containers, and door handles.”

“They found a guitar.”

“Perfect.”

“I can input a fingerprint into the databases and we’re more likely to get a hit from that than eyewitness testimony.”

Georgia studied the collection of dark brittle bones. “What set him off?”

“Who the hell knows,” Deke said.

* * *

The fresh voice mails sat unanswered in Amber’s phone from several reporters and a couple of guys she’d met in a bar her first night in town. The reporters were an annoyance and of no use to her and the men, though they had been entertaining for a few hours, now irritated her.

As the television commercial featuring dog food flashed, she muted the television. She was watching for any news reports on the girl, Elisa Spence. She was found dead in Percy Warner Park and very likely the reason Jake and Georgia had left so quickly from the diner.

Finding the Spence girl also explained why she didn’t hear back from Georgia and Jake, even though they were so eager to reopen the missing persons cases on Bethany and Mike.

As her mother turned on the shower in the back bathroom, she rose and moved toward the kitchen. Her mother had arrived home fifteen minutes ago and promised to talk as soon as she washed the stench of the bar out of her hair. Once her mother finished her shower, she would say a word or two to Amber, but it would be less than a half hour before she fell into bed, exhausted.

Her mother’s ritual had not changed in the last five years, leaving Amber to believe the stench most likely came from a strange man as much as the bar. When the sun was down, her mother loved men. When it was up, she hated them.

Amber dug a Mason jar from the cabinet and filled it with tap water. As she drank and stared out the back kitchen window into the barren backyard, the irony of the moment struck hard. For all her plans of making it big and getting rich, she’d come full circle. She was back in her mother’s house and still wanting more and wondering why her mother could not get her shit together.

She finished her water and then turned to the grocery bag her mother had deposited on the counter. She had brought home a few cans of soup, crackers, and milk. Though the thought of the milk made Amber’s stomach turn, soup appealed to her. She pulled the lid off the can, found a big mug and dumped it inside. She punched in two minutes on the microwave, put the soup inside, and hit start.

Her phone buzzed and she pulled it from her back pocket to glance at the display. She swore and sent the call to voice mail.

* * *

He stood outside, his slim muscled body pressed against the bark of an old oak tree. He watched as Amber passed in front of the window, the T-shirt and jeans molding her supple body.

The last five years had not changed her. She looked just as she had in high school. Small, petite, she always had a way about her that made him want to protect her when he wasn’t fucking her.

He pressed his forehead against the rough bark and gently rocked back and forth. He wanted to see her again. Touch her. Hold her. Be inside her. Life was always more vivid and jazzed when he was with her. What had she called them once? Bonnie and Clyde.

He dug his cell from his pocket and dialed her number. As her phone rang, her head turned and she picked up the phone. For a long moment she stared at the display and he thought she might pick it up. But then she hit silent as her mother appeared in view.

Amber turned from the window, as if he did not exist. Almost like she knew he was out here, watching her.

Pressing the phone to his head, he needed her. He wanted Amber so much.

Be patient. Be patient. She promised they would be together soon. Very soon.

 

O
verhead lights of the Nashville Police Department’s parking lot hummed as Georgia crossed to her car. She left Deke at the medical examiner’s office hours ago and returned to her lab where she spent several hours processing a robbery scene. As she cut across the lot she could only think about food. She was starving.

“Georgia!”

She turned at the sound as a tall, lean man stepped from the shadows. He wore a dark blue shirt from a local garage that skimmed his muscled biceps and chest. His black beard was thick and his dark hair tied back.

She looked around the lot, irritated she’d not paid more attention to her surroundings before she walked out of the building. “Can I help you?”

“I’m Hal West. Carrie’s boyfriend.”

She reached in her purse, thumbing the canister of mace she always carried. “Right. The guy that likes to put bruises on the mother of his child. How the hell are you, Hal?”

He held up a crumpled napkin. “I found this in her purse. When I asked her what it was about she got real jumpy. Mind telling me what my girl is doing with your number?”

Jamming her thumb under the safety on the mace, she hoped this jerk stepped closer. “I told her that when she’s tired of being your punching bag to call me.” She was outmuscled, but knew if she showed any kind of fear he would take the offensive. “When she wises up, I’ll see to it she leaves you for good.”

“Fuck you.” He ripped the napkin and threw it on the ground. “You got no business in my life.”

She pulled her phone from her back pocket and hit the 911 speed dial icon. “You got no business beating on a woman half your size, pal. Let’s see how badass you are when the cops show up in less than a minute.”

He advanced a step, his fists clenched. In the distance she heard sirens and knew valuable seconds would separate her from the cops being able to stop real trouble.

“Is there a problem here?” The deep male voice belonged to Jake Bishop.

Georgia looked past Hal to see Jake standing outside the circle’s edge of light. His feet were braced, his hand rested on his gun as if hoping.

Hal’s gaze remained locked on Georgia. “I’m having a conversation with the lady. She’s glad to see me.”

Georgia shook her head. “Detective Bishop, I’ve told Hal here the cops are on the way.”

“What’s the issue, Hal?”

Hal stared at Georgia, grinding his teeth as if he were chewing on a bit. “Nothing. I got no problem.”

“He hurt you in any way,” Jake asked Georgia.

“Nope.”

“Threats?”

“Nothing to charge him with.” There would be no holding Hal tonight, but that didn’t mean the trouble was over.

A marked squad car raced into the lot and stopped, catching the trio in the headlights. An officer got out of the car. “What’s the trouble?”

Hal shook his head. “No trouble.”

“Then leave,” Jake ordered.

Hal flexed his fists, but he turned and moved along the line of parked cars until he reached a beat-up truck. He got behind the wheel, fired up the engine, and peeled out of the lot.

Georgia looked at the officer, allowing herself to release the breath she’d been holding. “Thanks for the quick call.”

“We’re set,” Jake said.

The officer nodded, got in his squad car and left, leaving them alone.

“How long has this been going on?” Jake asked.

“That’s the first time I met Hal. But I know his girlfriend. Hal likes to knock her around and I offered her a place to stay if she ever wised up and left his ass.”

He faced her, the light from the streetlight cutting across his face. “Did he do anything to threaten you in any way?”

“No. This is the first.” She pressed trembling fingers to her forehead. “But I’m sure it won’t be the last.”

His hand rested near his weapon, the ring on his finger tapping against the grip of the gun. “Shit, you’ve got to be more careful.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sure if he wasn’t pissed off when he arrived, he was when he left.”

“Don’t take this lightly, Georgia. I’ve seen stalkers before. Hell, ask your brother Alex what it’s like to deal with a stalker. His fiancée, Leah, went through hell and back with her stalker.”

“He’s all bluster. He’s used to backing down. But you’re right. I’ll be more careful, but I am worried about Carrie.” She dialed a new number on her phone and listened until she landed in Carrie’s voice mail. She detailed what had happened and told her to be careful. She also repeated her phone number and offer for a place to stay.

“Shit. You’re taking this too lightly.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Taking a break. I’ve been reviewing tapes since I left Scott Murphy’s motel room. Figured you were working and decided to stop by.”

“Why are you so nice to me?”

“I don’t know. You sure don’t deserve it, yet.”

Good. He was annoyed. At least the evening wasn’t a total loss. “Any more leads on the guy who was spending time with Elisa?”

He studied her an extra moment as if sensing the tangle of emotions. “Not yet.”

“Brad tells me the motel room was filled with prints.”

He flashed one of his smartass smiles. “You forensic folks are the turtle in this race.”

Talk of work soothed some of the chaos. “Slow and steady wins the race.”

“You keep telling yourself that when I cross the finish line with my suspect.”

“My evidence will keep him behind bars.”

“It’ll help, but I could do without.”

That prompted a laugh. “You’re so sure of yourself.”

“I’m sure I know how to chase a trail and catch bad guys.”

She understood what he was doing. Grating on her last nerve to make her feel better. Words rose up in her and caught in her throat. “Thanks for showing up when you did.”

He offered a slight nod of the head. “You can count on me, Georgia. I’ve got your back.”

“You do,” she whispered.

A heavy silence settled between them. In the distance she heard people talking, knew others from the station were approaching their own cars. She tightened her hand on her keys.

He leaned closer, his body eating up a little more of the wedge of space between them. “I’m not kidding, Georgia. Don’t underestimate Hal or think he’ll forget about you.”

“I won’t.”

Finally, he stepped back and allowed her to open her car door and sit. Silent, Jake stood steady as she closed her door and turned over the engine. In the rearview mirror she watched as he stood in the parking lot staring in her direction. She watched until she turned the corner and he vanished from sight.

* * *

Georgia wasn’t sure how long her eyes had been closed when her cell rang. She sat up on her couch, dropping the television channel selector as she twisted around and searched for her phone. She glanced toward the television and the muted infomercial that displayed some kind of kitchen gadget that could peel and dice.

She found her cell between the cushions of her couch and accepted the call without bothering to look at the number. She wasn’t on call tonight, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be called in to a rape or homicide scene.

“Hello.” Her voice sounded like sandpaper, forcing her to clear her throat. “Hello.”

“Georgia Morgan?” The feminine voice sounded small and charged with fear.

“That’s me. Who is this?”

“It’s Amber Ryder.” She hissed in a breath and then slowly released it.

“What’s happening?” Georgia stood, dusting cracker crumbs from her shirt. She’d not intended to fall asleep on the couch when she’d switched on the romantic comedy. However, she’d dozed almost immediately and at this moment couldn’t have told you a thing about the plot.

“I’ve been mugged.”

She rubbed her eyes. “Where are you?”

“I’m at a convenience store.”

“What happened?”

“I was inside buying beer and I walked to get in my car when a guy showed up out of nowhere. He tried to take my purse, but I fought back. He shoved me to the curb.”

“Are you hurt?”

“I’m bruised up. And I’ve a cut on my forehead that’s going to need stitches.”

Georgia blinked the fatigue from her eyes, trying to clear her thoughts. “What do you need?”

“Can you take me to the hospital? I know you don’t know me that well, but I just don’t know who else to call.”

Georgia blinked the fatigue from her eyes. “Yeah, sure. Give me the address.”

Amber rattled off her location. “I’ll come get you. Just sit tight.”

Georgia hurried into her small kitchen and set a K-Cup into the coffeemaker. While it gurgled, she washed her face in the kitchen sink, tucked her shirt into her jeans, and finger-combed her hair before tying it in a ponytail. A few minutes later, coffee in hand, Georgia was backing out of her parking space at her apartment complex. It was two-forty a.m.

The roads were empty except for the occasional delivery truck and marked police car. The drive to the East Nashville address took only twenty minutes. When she pulled up in front of the convenience station, there was no sign of Amber. Parking, with the engine still running, she surveyed the lot, studying the shadows. She thought about Hal stepping out, grabbing her, luring her into a trap.

Her hand on her phone, she unrolled her window. “Amber!”

Seconds later, Amber slowly walked out of the shadows, a fistful of napkins pressed to her bloody forehead. She hurried around to the passenger side of the car.

Georgia unlocked the door long enough for her to get in before relocking it. She turned on the dome light and looked at Amber, blood soaking the napkins and oozing down the side of her cheeks. “Who did this to you?”

“I don’t know. He came out of nowhere.”

“Did you call the cops?”

“No. I don’t want to deal with cops right now. Please. I don’t need an interrogation.”

“They’re here to protect you.”

Amber winced as she pressed the wound harder to staunch the flow. “I can’t deal with them now.”

“Okay. Let’s get you to the emergency room.” Georgia put the car in drive and pulled out of the parking lot.

Amber laid her head back against the seat and drew in a steadying breath. “This is not how I pictured my return to Nashville.”

“Have you received any other texts?”

“A few calls and hang-ups but no texts.”

“Who’s calling?”

“I didn’t recognize the number.”

She pulled the napkin from her head and grimaced at the sight of the blood. “It was stupid of me to go out so late, but I was craving a beer.”

Georgia frowned as the stoplight turned yellow. She punched the gas and slid through the intersection as the light turned red. “Where’s your mother?”

“Working, I think. Or maybe she’s off her shift now and gone out with friends for a drink. That’s her favorite part of the day, or at least it was when I was in high school.” She grimaced as she pressed the napkin back on the wound.

Amber turned a little toward Georgia, her face half shadowed in the darkness. “I heard about that poor girl on the news. I’m guessing that’s why you and the detective had to leave so quickly.”

“We’ve been meaning to get back to you but there’s been no time.” She shoved out a breath. “You’ll hear this soon from someone, but we found Bethany and Mike’s bodies.”

She rolled the window down to get some fresh air. “I heard on the news they found something at the park. How did you find them?”

“The murdered girl was in a cave. Bethany and Mike were behind her in another chamber.”

She pressed a hand to her temple. “I don’t understand. Why would all three bodies be together?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”

Tears tightened her throat. “My God, after all this time. We finally know where they are. How did they die?”

“We’ve not released that yet. Still doing tests.”

“My God,” she whispered again as she stared out the window at the rushing lights. “Mrs. Reed will be devastated. And Mr. Marlowe was very dedicated to Mike. His son was his world. He’ll not rest until he finds out what happened. I didn’t like the guy, but he doesn’t deserve this. No one does.”

Georgia tightened her grip on the wheel. “We want to talk to you again.”

“Of course.” She shook her head. “God, after all this time and they were right here.”

Amber moaned softly as more pain seemed to course through her head. When it appeared to pass, she was pale and her clear eyes murky.

Georgia, sensing Amber’s condition was worsening, drove faster, even running a red light until she spotted the hospital ahead. Pulling into the parking spot reserved for emergency, she ran around the front of the car and helped Amber stagger to her feet.

The two women made their way across the lot, and by the time they reached the emergency door entrance, Georgia was able to flag down an orderly and get Amber into a wheelchair.

The next half hour centered on getting Amber into an ER room, changed into a gown, and seeing that her paperwork was filled out. Georgia was relieved when Amber removed an insurance card from her wallet.

A nurse examined Amber and determined she would need a dozen stitches. “That’s a nasty gash. How did you get it?”

“I was mugged. As I was running away, I was shoved and hit the curb. Cut my forehead, I think the blood scared the guy away.”

Frowning, the nurse nodded. “Let’s get you numbed up and then sutured. I’m also going to ask the doctor to check in on you because you might have a concussion. Have you ever had a head injury before?”

“I had a bad fall five years ago and suffered a grade-three concussion.”

“Okay, the doctor might order an MRI.”