No surprise that Marlowe might have married his wife for her money. It certainly wasn’t against the law. “So, we have three unlikely kids headed into the park to do a science project. These kids have anyone that didn’t like them enough to track them into the woods?”
“Mike made a few enemies,” she said. “He was a bully. Bethany went unnoticed, by and large. And there were plenty that didn’t like Amber because she wasn’t one of them.” She adjusted her glasses. “But it’s one thing to not like someone, quite another to kill.”
“Mike had a very good friend, Tim Taylor. What do you remember about him?”
“Tim was always quite the charmer. He could sweet talk his way out of any situation.” She adjusted her glasses. “I always knew he was manipulating me when he asked for an extension on a project, but he was so sweet and likable that I didn’t mind.”
“He date anyone?”
“He had a girlfriend or two but nothing serious.”
“He and Amber get along?”
“I don’t know about that. I see a lot in the classroom, but not everything.”
“What did you think of Amber’s story after she was found in the woods?” Jake asked.
“I believed her,” she said without hesitation. “She was basically a good kid, and in time would have found her way to a successful life. She didn’t ask for this trouble. It found her. When it became clear returning to school would not work for her, I offered to help her with her studies at home.”
“How’d she do?”
“Great. Ten percent of our students don’t need teachers because they’re so smart. She was one of the ten percent.”
“You don’t think she could have killed Bethany or Mike?”
She shook her head, her lips flattening into a grim line. “The cops asked me that question several times five years ago, and my answer remains the same. Amber did not kill those kids. She was poor, not evil.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Friday, October 6, 2:00 P.M.
For observation purposes, Amber rested in her hospital bed, her head and shoulder aching from the fall. She shifted her weight, searching for a more comfortable position.
The doctor determined she had a mild concussion and nurses were ordered to monitor her vitals. She drifted in and out of sleep. Time drifted and the past and present blurred. One minute she was dreaming of the woods. Heart pumping, laughing, she was quizzing Bethany about the names of plants in the woods, as they hiked the long path in Percy Warner Park. Mike was teasing them both, tossing leaves at them and complaining about how slowly they walked. Amber, Mike, and Bethany had no worries.
The dream shifted, the laughter silenced, and the lightness of the day seemed to dim.
She and Mike were alone, hidden by a cluster of trees. Bethany had wandered off to collect samples. Amber flashed a sly grin and slowly dropped to her knees in front of Mike. His eyes darkened with desire as she reached for his belt and slowly unbuckled it.
As she reached for his erection, he threaded his fingers through her hair and sucked in a breath as her mouth wrapped around the tip of his penis.
Footsteps sounded in the woods, followed by the rustle of leaves and the snap of twigs. A shadow darkened over them but Mike, his eyes closed and his senses rattled, didn’t notice. And then the tip of a gun barrel pressed against Mike’s temple. The gun fired. Blood dripped down the side of his face. His body collapsed and he fell to the ground like a ragdoll.
“Mike!” Amber yelled clutching the sheets of her hospital bed and staring at the pale specter of Mike. Sweat moistened her brow and her hands trembled as she tried to shake off the confusion. “I didn’t mean it.”
“You selfish bitch,” he whispered, as he leaned toward her. “Why the fuck did you do it?”
“Go away! Leave me alone. You’re dead!”
Amber started awake, her heart racing as her gaze darted around the hospital room. Sweat dripped from her forehead. Shadows danced on the walls, bathing it all in darkness. Seconds passed before clarity pushed through the haze to take control of her mind. She was in the hospital. Safe. She raised her fingers to her temple and felt the smooth bandage on her head.
She reached for the saline IV in her arm and yanked it free, fearing suddenly that it was laced with drugs designed to rob her of the control so very necessary for her survival.
She had to get out of here. Had to get free.
A door opened and a figure appeared in the sliver of light now flooding the dimly lit room. Amber teetered between panic and relief. Who was there? Had they heard her talking in her sleep?
A nurse in scrubs stepped from the shadows. A name badge pinned to her pocket read JULIA and a stethoscope was draped around her neck. She moved into the room and inspected the IV’s injection point in Amber’s arm. “Ms. Ryder, are you all right? Why did you pull your IV out?”
“It makes my brain fuzzy.” She ran a shaking hand through her hair. “I feel too out of control.”
“The IV doesn’t make you fuzzy. It’s just saline. You have a head injury. That’s why you’re confused. If you stay hydrated, you’ll feel better.” The nurse frowned at the trickle of blood streaming down Amber’s arm.
“I don’t want any more.”
“You took a nasty fall. Your head has to be pounding.” Julia fumbled in her front pocket for a fresh Band-Aid and opened it. Carefully, she placed it over the hole left by the IV needle.
Amber drew her arm back, curling it up. “I don’t care about hydration. I don’t want anything else.”
The nurse rolled up the IV tube. “You look upset. Are you okay?”
“I think I had a dream.”
“I heard you fussing and carrying on as I came down the hallway.” The nurse reached for Amber’s slim wrist and pressed her first two fingers against a racing pulse. “Your heart’s beating a mile a minute.”
In the dream, the last five years had vanished and she found herself back in the woods. Mike stood before her, half naked and wanting, his eyes glazed with pleasure when she stroked him. “I usually don’t dream. It’s not like me to freak out.”
The nurse inspected the spot where the IV had been. The vein was bruised and marked where Amber’s fingernails had scraped the skin. “An assault can be very traumatic. Things just kind of short circuit for a bit.”
She moistened dry lips. “Can I have some water? Please.”
“Sure you can.” The nurse moved to the bedside table and poured a cup from a plastic pitcher marked with the name RYDER.
Amber accepted the water and gratefully drank. Cool liquid soothed her parched throat and eased the anxiety stalking her in the dream. Realizing the nurse was watching her, she offered a tentative and embarrassed smile. “Sorry to cause such a fuss.”
“Honey, that’s why I’m here. Don’t you worry about it.” She took the cup back. “Do you want some more?”
“No, I’m fine. Thank you.” She relaxed back against the pillows, willing her racing thoughts to calm. Mike was not alive. He was dead, his body reduced to bones. “Did I say anything while I was dreaming?”
“You were shouting at Mike. You told him to leave you alone.”
She twisted the hospital band around her slim wrist. “I said the name Mike? You’re sure?”
“Very sure.” She tugged the sheet up so that it covered Amber’s chest. “It was on the news today about those two other children. To be found dead after all this time. So sad.”
Aware of the woman’s curious gaze, she offered a relaxed, if not apologetic, smile. “The police are hoping that I’ll remember what happened in the woods. Maybe my memory is coming back.”
The nurse patted Amber on the arm. “The brain heals at its own pace. Never know when you’ll have a breakthrough.”
“Let’s hope.”
Even now, as she tried to recall the dream, it faded farther and farther out of reach into the mist. “Did I say anything else other than Mike?”
“You didn’t say anything else about Mi
ke, but I could hear the panic in your voice. You were definitely afraid.” She leaned in a fraction. “Were you afraid of Mike?”
Amber met her gaze, seeing the interest and curiosity. She dragged a trembling hand through her hair. “We were friends in high school. I was never afraid of him in school. But I don’t know about that day.”
Brown eyes deepened with concern. “Well, you sure were afraid of him in this dream. Terrified is a better word.”
She drew back, making herself look small. “Mike wouldn’t have hurt me. He was my friend.”
“You sure sounded afraid of him.”
“Maybe it was just a dream. Maybe it didn’t mean anything.” She steadied her smile. “What time is it?”
“Oh, it’s after lunchtime. A little after two.
“I slept the morning away?”
“Very natural you’d sleep, honey.”
Amber liked the way the nurse called her honey. She felt just a little nurtured and loved.
“I think that redheaded gal that brought you in said she called your mama.”
“Georgia Morgan.”
“That’s right. She’s a tough gal. Wouldn’t leave until she knew you were taken care of.”