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Vulnerable (Morgans of Nashville 4)

Page 58

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“But if she meant to shoot Tim, then she’ll be worried he will discredit her story. He might just tell us that he helped her kill Mike and Bethany five years ago. He might know something about Elisa. He has an alibi for her death, but he knows a lot more than we do. She’s going to be really worried about him talking to us.”

Georgia dealt in forensic facts. She collected data. Analyzed data. She was black and white. And all this was too very gray for her. “And if she didn’t mean to shoot him?”

“Then she’ll go on as an innocent woman would, and we will tell her the bad news in a day or two. She’s smart and if she held to her amnesia story for five years, she’s not going to be easy to crack.”

Rick rose. “I’m going to walk the halls and call Jenna. I want to check on the baby.”

“How’s she doing?” In the chaos of the day she’d forgotten about the child.

Rick grinned. “She’s doing really well. Jenna is in love.”

“Carrie had no family,” Georgia said.

“I know. I’ve got Rachel looking into it all.”

She cocked her head. “Does that mean you’re going to keep Sara?”

“We sure are going to try. The Big House hasn’t been the same since you were there to terrorize it.” The Big House had belonged to their parents and all during her childhood had been filled with laughter, the scent of her mother’s cooking, and occasionally her own tantrums.

When Rick left, Georgia’s gaze nailed Jake. “You don’t play fair.”

“No, I don’t,” he said with no hint of apology. He leaned closer and said, “But I have been more than fair with you.”

She glanced around, half expecting to see Rick or Deke, before she wrapped her arms around his neck. “You’re such a brave little solider for dealing with me.”

“I’ll have it no other way.” He rested his hands on her hips. A muscle twitched in his jaw. “You scared the hell out of me today.”

She folded her arms. “I was doing my job.”

“Don’t give me that. You took a reckless chance.” He shoved out a breath as if he caught himself doing what he’d promised he would not.

“I thought you liked my independence.”

“You’re great on the job, and we all know you’re a badass who can take care of business. But it’s not a sin to need someone else every so often.”

She shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know what to say.”

His gaze darkened with disappointment. “Life is too damn short. Stop trying to muscle it alone.”

She moved out of his embrace, stepping back a step. “Ah, where’s the fun if there’s no challenge?”

Before he could respond, Rick returned to the room and held up a picture of Jenna holding the baby. “I thought you might like to see this.”

Georgia smiled. “Very nice, Daddy.”

He clicked off the phone. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Any word from Rachel or Amber?”

Jake turned his attention from Georgia. “Waiting on Rachel. She’s still talking to her client.”

“You really think Tim wanted to hurt Amber?” Rick asked.

“I don’t know.”

“So what do we do now?” Georgia asked, her voice more hoarse than she expected.

Jake took a sip of coffee. “I’ll be doing a little asking around about Tim for the next few hours, and then I’m going to turn Amber loose and see what she does.”

* * *

Jake and Rick arrived at St. Vincent school just before seven. The campus was just beginning to stir, and the principal’s office was open. Jake called the principal and asked if Mrs. Garfield would be willing to talk to them again. She agreed.

They found Principal Byrd and Mrs. Garfield in the front office alone, drinking coffee. When the detectives entered, the two educators set down their cups and moved to the counter where several yellowed files were stacked.

“Thank you for seeing us,” Jake said.

Mrs. Garfield shook her head. “We were so sorry to hear about Tim and Amber. What a terrible thing.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jake said.

Principal Byrd opened the first file. “We were thinking about your questions about Amber and Tim and if there was a connection between them in high school. I asked Mrs. Garfield to pull all the photos taken for the yearbooks the years those four were here.”

She thumbed through the photos. “I was the faculty advisor for the yearbook for several years and all the students brought their candid stills to me so I could consider them for the yearbook. To encourage the children to take pictures, we gave out weekly prizes for the best photo. You can imagine with most of the children having cameras on their phones how many pictures we got.” She adjusted her glasses and grinned. “Not all of them were ready for primetime if you know what I mean. A tad racy.”

Jake grinned. “High school never really changes.”

“No, it doesn’t,” she said. “Regardless, after you called the principal, I spent this morning going through photos specifically looking for Amber, Tim, Bethany, and Mike. As it turned out, I’d pulled many of Bethany and Mike because we’d decided to do a tribute page to them in this year’s edition.”

She lifted a stack and laid them out much like a casino deals cards. “They are in chronological order, starting with freshman year, which as you can see is mostly pictures of Tim and Mike. They both played football and it was natural that they be photographed more.”

Jake surveyed the pictures, noting the two boys looked clean cut and all-American. In several photos, Tim had his arm around Mike and the two, wearing football jerseys, were laughing. There was only one candid of Bethany. She was in the campus garden planting flowers, smiling shyly up at the camera. As he stared at the young girl he thought about the bones laid out in the cold, damp cave. It took a twisted kind of evil to hurt someone that innocent.

“There are a few pictures of Amber beginning junior year. Most of them are on the sidelines at the football games in the fall.” She tapped one. “Amber is standing behind the cheerleaders here, and if you look closely, you’ll see Mr. Marlowe off to her right.”

Jake studied the picture of Daddy Marlowe. “He’s glaring at her.”

“Yes, he is,” she said. “Looking at this I remember once crossing the parking lot to my car one evening and I saw the two of them talking. He wasn’t touching her, but the way he leaned forward was aggressive. Angry even.”

Knowing what he knew now about their relationship, his resentment made sense. He’d slept with Amber. Thought he was having an affair with a cute young girl and then he finds out she is his underage daughter. “When was she accepted to the school?”

The principal reached for a pad filled with notes. “She was accepted only about a week before the start of school. Last-minute add-ons are not the norm, so I looked up her file. Dalton Marlowe expedited her application.”

Had she blackmailed him into getting her a spot in the school? It would explain much of his behavior.

Mrs. Garfield picked up the remaining junior year pictures and laid them out. “As you can see, more pictures of Mike and Amber. She’s with him a lot of time at lunch, in the hallways, at the school play, and by the football field. They are clearly a couple.”

“What about Tim?”

“Not so many pictures of him. And the ones we have, he’s not with Mike much, and if he is, he’s not smiling.” She picked up the third stack. “There are quite a few candids of Amber and Bethany. Amber seems to be involved in the clubs. She and Mike are still caught on film together in the spring but not as much. And,” she said, flipping more pictures, “she’s with Tim a few times.”

The photos were taken from the bleachers and shooting down on Tim and Amber who are standing so close they are touching. She is touching his chest and his hand is cupping her bottom. Amber’s hair was dark and long in high school, but even then, she had a dark, smoky, seductive look that would have made every boy at that school look twice and dream of having her. Howev

er, what really struck him was Tim’s appearance. Long hair. Beard. He didn’t look anything like the young conservative man on the rise. He looked like the guy in Texas who was a person of interest in the murder investigation.

Rick exchanged a glance with Jake. “When was that picture taken?”

“The spring of their junior year,” Mrs. Garfield said. “Their ill-fated trip was six months later.”

“Do you know much about Tim’s family?” Jake asked.

“Old Nashville family,” Principal Byrd said. “Father passed away a couple of years ago and mother travels a great deal. It was always assumed, according to his guidance counselor’s records, that he would go to law school.”

Mrs. Garfield showed them one last junior year picture. It was of Amber and Mike. But in the background Tim was glaring at them both. His expression looked dark and angry.

Jake tapped the image with his finger. “If looks could kill.”

* * *

Georgia’s cell rang minutes after she entered her apartment after a long night at the police station. She’d dropped her bag and was staring into an empty refrigerator as she fished the cell out of her back pocket. Her front doorbell rang and she moved toward the door and opened it without much thought.

She found herself face to face with Amber, who stood there holding a tissue to her nose. Her watery eyes were wide and bloodshot and her nose red as if she’d been crying.

Tension chilled Georgia’s skin. “Amber?”

Amber sniffed, dabbing her nose. “I didn’t know what else to do. Where to go.”

She gripped the door. “I thought you were going back to Mrs. Reed’s house. You said you wanted to see her.”

“I did go back to her house and she’s not there. I don’t know where she is and I’m in a panic.”

Jake had released Amber during the early morning hours as he’d promised. Now was the big test. Was she a victim or a killer? “Where is your mother?”



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