Vulnerable (Morgans of Nashville 4)

He studied her a moment and then, as always, considered the bigger picture. He did not need to be escorted out of the hospital room. His image was still his pride and joy, his fragile mantle of success. “This isn’t over.”

“I hope not. I’d like to see you again.”

* * *

Georgia waved to the nurses as she approached Amber’s room where she spotted a plump older woman hovering by the door. Her dress was plain and simple and her brown shoes sensible. She held a vase filled with sunflowers.

The woman raised her hand to knock on Amber’s partially opened door, hesitated, and then turned to leave.

“Can I help you?” Georgia asked.

The woman glanced at her. “No, I’m fine.”

“Are you here to see Amber Ryder?”

The woman’s eyes sparked with knowing and Georgia recognized the woman from her photos in her cold case files. She was Emma Reed, Bethany’s mother. “I wanted to see her. Talk to her. But now I think this might not be a good time.”

“You’re Mrs. Reed, aren’t you? Bethany’s mother.”

Dark eyes watered. “Yes. How did you know?”

“I’m Georgia Morgan. I work in the Forensic Department with the Nashville Police Department.” I found your daughter. “I’m working her case.”

She reached out and took Georgia’s hand, choking back tears. “You’re the one who found her, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” She always treaded carefully with the victim’s family.

Mrs. Reed’s fingers tightened on the vase. “Thank you for helping to bring my daughter home. Knowing is terrible, but not knowing is unbearable. At least I know she’s with her father now and at peace.”

She flipped through an invisible rolodex of nice words, wishing she had better people skills like Jake. Damn, how did he make people feel like he cared? “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Mrs. Reed shook her head. “I clung to hope for a long, long time. And then, after my husband died, I just stopped. It’s been years since I expected good news.”

Georgia rummaged for more words that would ease this moment but realized saying nothing was better. “You should go in and see Amber. She’d like to see you. She said you were kind to her.”

Dull eyes brightened. “She said that? I always liked her. She was a true friend to Bethany. Not everyone saw Bethany the same way. She was an awkward girl who liked books and microscopes better than makeup and boys. But Amber showed her respect and compassion.”

Before entering, Mrs. Reed hesitated. “I heard she was mugged.”

“Yes. A dozen stitches to her head, but she’ll be fine. No lasting damage from the fall.”

“Do you think it was random? There were plenty of people that didn’t like her.”

“I don’t know. It all happened so fast. She didn’t get a good look at the guy.”

Her grip tightened on Georgia’s arm. “Sweetheart, you’re going in, too? It’s been so long for Amber and me, it might be best if we had someone else in the room to smooth the waters.”

“Sure, I’ll come inside.”

“Thank you.” She released her grip and the breath she was holding. “I almost lost my nerve and left without seeing her.”

As they turned to the door, a man pushed out of Amber’s room. Tall with salt-and-pepper hair, his anger was etched deeply into his face.

“Dalton,” Mrs. Reed said.

Hearing his name, the man stopped. “Emma. What are you doing here?”

“I came to see Amber.”

He glanced toward the bright yellow flowers, blooming brightly as small sunbursts. “Those are for her?”

“They are.” She straightened her shoulders as if she mentally dug in her heels. Puzzled, she searched for the cause of Dalton’s anger.

“You always defended her,” he said. “I never understood what you saw in her.”

Mrs. Reed gently shook her head. “She was a young girl caught in a bad situation. None of what happened was her fault.”

He shoved his hand in his pocket and rattled his change. “You always were an optimist, weren’t you, Emma?”

“Not really, Dalton.” Her tone had turned imperious, as if she wanted to remind him he’d not come from their world. “I see more than most realize.”

Eyes narrowing, he leaned toward her a fraction as if wanting to remind her of his rise to his current status. “Well, at least you have your answers now. At least you know where to find Bethany.”

“And you have yours.”

“Not even close.”

“Dalton, we need to talk about the arrangements for our children. I thought maybe we could honor them in a memorial service together.”

He glanced back toward Amber’s door. “I’m not so sure.”

“I know how hard this is, Dalton. I know. Think about what I’m offering, and we’ll talk later.”

He drew in a deep breath and released it. “I can’t discuss this now.”

Georgia watched the man stalk off, her attention immediately turning to Emma. “He really doesn’t like Amber.”

“He never did. He never said anything in front of me, of course, but I caught the way he used to look at her.” Distaste wrinkled her face.

“Was it sexual?” Georgia asked.

“Yes. His attention struck me as lurid and creepy. It was no secret that Dalton played around and liked to look at the young pretty girls. His wife was a lovely woman but not beautiful like Amber.”

“You said he was drawn to her at first. Did something change?”

“Yes. I don’t know the specifics, but it did as quickly as you’d shut off a light. Perhaps it had to do with his wife dying after her fall. Whatever happened between Dalton and Amber, it wasn’t good. At that last football game a week before they all . . . left us . . . I saw Dalton glaring at Amber. He looked at her as if she revolted him.”

“Why would she revolt him?”

“I’ve no idea. I asked Bethany once, but she seemed surprised by the question.” Mention of her daughter’s name doused her annoyance with sadness. “Bethany was an idealist. It never would have occurred to her that someone like Dalton would want to sleep with a friend of hers.”

Older men had affairs with high school girls. Dalton wouldn’t have been the first. And a girl like Amber, desperate for acceptance, might have mistaken lust for understanding and love. “Let’s go check on Amber.”

Mrs. Reed nodded, producing a smile that didn’t quite touch her eyes. “Sure. But you go first. I just need one more quick second to collect myself.”

“You’re coming in, right?”

She smiled. “Of course, dear.”

“Don’t run off.”

“I won’t.”

Georgia pushed into the room and found Amber in her bed, sitting straight up, her fists balled so tightly her knuckles were white. “Everything all right?”

Amber’s gaze locked on Georgia as she seemed to take a mental hold of herself, releasing her anger with a breath. She unfurled her fingers and straightened her hospital gown. “I’m fine.”

“I saw Dalton Marlowe outside,” Georgia said. “He looked upset. What happened?”

Amber leaned back against the pillows, her pale skin a close match to the pillow’s shade. “It’s the same old thing. He’s blaming me for Mike’s problems.”

“What kind of problems?” Georgia asked.

As she sighed, it seemed the fire dimmed with her breath. “He always thought I was bad for Mike.”

“How so? Did you two date?”

“Sorta. Mike and I messed around a little, but he wanted more than I was willing to give. I stayed friends with Mike, but Mr. Marlowe continued to assume I was a gold digger.”

“I thought the money passed to Mike’s dad,” Georgia said.

“Sure, that was true at first, but the assets pass to Mike on his twenty-third birthday.”

“That had to sting,” Georgia said.

Amber’s expression remained neutral. “T

hey didn’t have a happy marriage. She was a controlling woman who got her own way no matter the cost. Her dying was almost a relief to Mike and Dalton.”

“Did anything happen the day she fell down the stairs?”

“Like what?”

“A fight, maybe between Mrs. Marlowe and her husband or son?”

“Those three were always fighting. Either one could have given her a shove in a moment of anger.” She shook her head. “That sounds awful. Mr. Marlowe is cold but he doesn’t have the stomach for murder.”