Vulnerable (Morgans of Nashville 4)

“Why kill the old man? What’s to be gained?” Rick asked as Georgia dusted for prints.

“Maybe Amber cast a spell on our buddy Tim,” Jake said.

Rick nodded. “Maybe.”

“What do you think about what the housekeeper said about Amber?”

“Amber comes from an economically and emotionally challenged family. It’s logical to attach to a family like the Marlowes who, on the outside, appear close and functional. She sleeps with Mike, thinking she can make this family her own. Father sees her as a gold digger. Father and son fight. A not so original story.” Rick shifted his stance as if his hip had tensed.

“But Amber likes the boys. Likes to flirt. What if she flirted with Tim and she caught him in her spell like she caught Mike?”

“If you want to go that route, then if Tim is capable of killing Mike’s father, he’s capable of killing Mike and Bethany,” said Rick.

“He’s got an alibi for Elisa’s time of death. And Amber says she didn’t know Elisa,” said Jake.

“If not for Elisa, we’d never have found Bethany and Mike’s bodies.”

“Why kill Bethany?” Jake asked.

“Wrong place. Wrong time.”

“Maybe.”

“Let’s say Amber’s fall five years ago really was an accident,” Jake said. “She’s too messed up for Tim to carry her out of the woods. She tells him not to worry. She can claim amnesia to cover for Tim and no one will ever know he was in the woods.”

“Or she really doesn’t remember,” Rick countered. “We can have all the theories in the world, but until we can prove it, any decent defense attorney will rip our theories to shreds.”

“We need to find Tim.”

Georgia whistled and held up a white piece of print paper with a dark thumbprint. “Jake, was it you that said forensic science was too slow?”

“You have a print.”

“You bet I do.”

* * *

After Tim left through the back fence, with the evidence of his crime in the plastic bag, he drove to a neighborhood in Nashville’s east side. He drove his old four-door car, knowing it would blend and easily be forgotten by anyone who happened to see it. After he made the drop, the adrenaline pumping through his veins vanished. Exhausted, he found a quiet street in an area near the university. He closed his eyes, planning to sleep for only a few minutes.

When he awoke to sunlight, he realized he had slept for hours. Damn! He needed to see Amber and tell her what he’d done. Show her he could be trusted.

He drove to the Reeds’ neighborhood and waited until he saw Mrs. Reed leave for an early morning exercise class and then he hurried to the back door. He knocked hard and seconds later heard the clip of her footsteps on the other side of the door.

The door swung open and Amber stood before him. This close to her now, smelling the soft scent of her perfume, the desires that never, ever were satisfied, churned.

He’d always loved her. Always loved the smell of her freshly washed hair, the way she painted her nails a faint pink, the feel of her soft skin rubbing against him. The person before him wasn’t the girl he’d adored in high school, but a woman. She wore slim black pants and a white sweater that hugged her breasts. Her shoulder-length hair was neatly styled, her makeup expertly applied and her earlobes sparkling with diamond earrings.

If anything, he wanted her more than ever. “Amber.”

“Tim,” she said. “I’ve been calling you.”

“I heard your messages. I had a job to do before we could talk. Can I come in?”

She stepped aside, curious but also annoyed.

He closed the door and clicked the deadbolt in place, searching for signs of anyone else in the house. “Is there anyone else in the house?”

“No, we’re alone.”

“Good.” He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her hard on the lips. She tasted sweet, soft. As he deepened the kiss, she wrapped her arms around him, nestling close.

He tugged her shirt free of her waistband, but as his hand slid up her flat belly, she broke the kiss and stepped back. “We talk first.”

He moved forward, reaching out to take her again in his arms, but she sidestepped him. “The sooner you talk, the sooner we play.”

She raised a manicured hand to run a finger along the beads of a pearl necklace around her neck. She studied the dark stains on his shirt. “I’m waiting?”

“I went to see Dalton Marlowe,” he said.

“Why?”

His gaze was drawn to her hands that just days ago had been wrapped around him. “I know who he is to you.”

Her brow furrowed. “What do you know?”

Shaking his head, he couldn’t articulate the words that still tasted foul. “It doesn’t matter.”

She saw past his stony gaze. “I’ve been calling and calling you, but you never answered.”

Everything always made sense when she spoke. She made complicated simple, but when he thought of losing her, the world spun out of control. He liked that about her. Hated it about her. “I had to see him. It was time to take care of him once and for all.”

Her eyebrows knitted. “What happened? Did you fight?”

“I hit him.”

Her chin lifted as if the scene with Dalton played in front of her. “You hit him. How badly is he hurt?”

“I knocked him down and then I wrapped a plastic bag around his head. I killed him.”

Her face paled and she stepped back, shaking her head as she raised her fingertips to her mouth. “You killed him! Jesus, Tim, how did it get so out of control?”

“I wasn’t out of control. I knew exactly what I was doing. I know how hard it was for you to face him, and that you could never do what I did, so I took care of it. I was protecting you.”

He took her soft hands in his and pulled her closer to him. Her expensive perfume wafted around him and he grew so hard. Without thinking, he backed her up until she was pressed against the wall. His hand went to the waistband of her pants. “Marlowe was the one that pushed for this investigation to reopen. Now that he’s gone, it will die.”

She grabbed his hand. “Tim, stop. We can’t do this. Not now. Not here!”

He yanked hard at the waistband button and it popped, falling to the tiled floor. “You need to know you can count on me.”

“Tim, stop.” She pushed hard against his chest. “I know I can count on you.”

He pushed down her pants to her knees and reached for his own zipper. “I would do anything for you. Because I love you. We’re two sides of the same coin.”

Her body stilled and her resistance melted. Sensually, she stepped out of her pants. “You’ve been there for me so many times.”

Tim cupped her taut ass, not wanting anything else now other than to drive deep inside her. “We’re the same person.”

She raised steady hands to his face and held it. “I see that, now.”

He looked at her beautiful face. “I said I’d take care of you, and I will.”

“Did anyone see you leave the house?”

“No. I left through the back door and went out the gap in the fence just like I did when we were kids. But the maid will be there by now. She’ll have found him.”

“Okay.”

“It’ll be fine. They’ll never trace it back to me.”

She kissed him. “We can’t do this here. Mrs. Reed will be home soon. She can’t catch you here.”

His breathing was ragged and labored as his thoughts zeroed in on one thing—having Amber. “Where then?”

She ran her fingers through his hair. “Let’s get a motel room. Meet me at the Middle Motel.”

“When?”

“Go now. I’ll be minutes behind you.”

Reluctantly, he stepped back and fixed his pants. “You sound like my Amber again. Thinking.”

She tugged her pants over her hips and zipped them. “Yes, I’m always one step ahead.”

He kissed her.

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; “Hurry,” she breathed against his lips. “Wait for me. I’ll be there later this afternoon and we’ll have hours to be with each other.”

He leaned forward, grabbed her arms, and kissed her hard on the lips. She leaned into the kiss, allowing him to taste her and explore the inside of her mouth. There was so much promise in her touch. She was his soul mate.

She pulled back, moistening her lips. “Go on and go. I’ll call you soon.”

“I love you, Amber.”

She smiled. “I love you, Tim.”

* * *

Twelve hours passed before Georgia left the Marlowe house. She and Brad had spent the entire time collecting, documenting, sketching, and photographing trace evidence and fingerprints. She had pulled a very clear thumbprint from the back fence as well as an index fingerprint. They would be processed and analyzed when they got back to the lab.

When she arrived at the lab it was close to eight o’clock at night. Fatigue tightened the muscles in her back and legs. Her stomach grumbled as she realized she’d not eaten since last night.

Brad pushed through the lab door with evidence boxes in his hands. “This is the last of it. I’m locking it up and will start processing first thing in the morning.”

“Thanks, Brad.”

He rubbed his hand over his chin that was covered in dark stubble. “Tell me you aren’t staying tonight.”

“No. I’ll head home.” She’d not spoken to Jake since she’d seen him at the Marlowe crime scene. As much as she wanted to see him now, she needed time to think.

Grabbing her phone, she dialed KC’s number. He picked up on the second ring. In the background, she could hear muffled music and she imagined him in his back office with a pile of paperwork in front of him on an old desk he’d used when he worked homicide. “Hi, Georgia.”

“I’m checking in about the arrangements for Carrie. Sorry I haven’t called today. There was a crime scene.”