Vulnerable (Morgans of Nashville 4) - Page 5

“I don’t know.” She recognized Georgia’s word trap. “I have no memory.”

Georgia’s tone held no hint of apology. “What did Mike say that last day you remembered seeing him?”

“That’s the thing. I never saw Mike that day. His father answered the door. I asked to see Mike, but he wouldn’t let me. Said Mike was sleeping. So I gave the notes to his dad. His dad appreciated my help and even gave me fifty bucks for my trouble.” She crossed her legs and then slowly settled back in the booth.

“That’s sounds like a very generous tip for just delivering homework. But it bothered you. Why?”

“I wanted to say no to the tip, but I needed the money. My mom is a cocktail waitress and she never made a lot of money. I spent that fifty bucks on groceries.”

Georgia would battle her growing fatigue so she could compare her father’s case notes against Amber’s comments when she returned home. Buddy had always kept careful notes when he investigated a case. “What do you remember next?”

“I took the money from Mr. Marlowe, bought groceries, and went home. I knocked out my math homework. I stayed in that night and went to bed early. And that’s all I remember until I woke up in the hospital. It’s unnerving to have no recall, especially for several days. I keep waiting for something to trigger a buried memory.”

X-rays and MRIs confirmed the head injury to her left temporal lobe. “The doctors say memory loss is not uncommon.”

“I suppose. It was several weeks before I could think clearly again. Felt like I was in a fog.”

KC reappeared with their food and settled hot plates in front of each woman. He looked at Amber. “Loaded extra fries on your plate.”

When she smiled up at him, her face lit up. “You’re sweet.”

KC settled his hand on his hip. “Took me a minute to place you. The hair threw me off.”

Amber sat a little straighter, raising her gaze to his. She hesitated as if sizing him up. “And?”

“And nothing,” he said. “I didn’t work your case and I’m retired now. I’ll leave the figuring to Georgia. She’s smarter than me by a long shot.”

Georgia understood what he was doing. Buddy used to say KC was dumb like a fox. Could make anyone relax. Open up. Tell secrets they never imagined they’d reveal.

Amber reached for her soda and took a sip. “Good. I want this case solved. I’m at your service.”

KC scratched behind his ear. “I know you do. Good luck.”

Amber picked up a fry but didn’t bite it. “I searched you on the Internet after you called me. I wanted to know if you were legit and not some reporter trying to railroad me.”

Georgia’s name would have popped up more than a few times in association with Annie’s murder case. “You get a lot of calls from reporters?”

“I did at the one-year anniversary and then the second. Now that the fifth year is coming up I was expecting more calls.”

“Anything threatening?”

She reached for her phone and scrolled through her texts. She read, “ ‘Time you repent, liar. If you thought you escaped, then you are wrong. God knows what you did!’”

“That from the same person?”

“Yeah. But there will be others. I don’t know how they find my number but they do.”

“Have you had the number traced?”

Amber raised her chin a notch as if this was a normal problem she could handle. “I did a reverse search on the number but nothing came up.”

“Has anyone approached you?”

“No. But the change of hair throws most people off. I’ve not been recognized in person for a couple of years.”

“What do you do in Dallas?”

“I’m an account manager in an advertising company. It’s entry level, but it’s a good job. And the pay is decent.”

Everything she said fit.

“I’m glad you’re back. Maybe you being here will help solve what happened to Bethany and Mike.”

Amber nodded. “Have you contacted Dalton Marlowe yet?”

“He’s spoken to the chief of homicide several times, but he and I haven’t formally met. I’m sure that will change. He’s pressing to see this case solved.” Dalton Marlowe was clearly a man accustomed to getting everything he wanted.

“You understand if you fail, he’ll do his best to ruin your career.”

There were veiled threats according to Deke, but like her brother, she didn’t scare so easily when it came to the job. “I’m not planning on failing.”

Amber’s mood darkened. “Good.”

The two ate in silence for a moment before Georgia set her napkin by her plate. She had noticed the dark circles under Amber’s eyes. “Do you have a place to stay?”

“I’m in a motel now. When the money runs low, I’ll hit my mother up for a place to stay.”

“And you have a car?”

“Yes. Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.” Amber balled up her napkin and tossed it beside the half-eaten plate of food.

“I’d like to talk to you again soon. Amber, I’m assuming the cell number I called is still your number.”

“It is. And yes. Call me. I’ll be here a couple of days. I need to see my mom before I head back to Dallas.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Amber’s gaze met Georgia’s and held it. “I’ll help in any way I can.”

“Thanks. I’m counting on it.” She rose as Amber inched out of the booth and stood.

“Thanks for opening this up again. It’s time for closure.”

“Definitely.” Georgia followed Amber to the front door. “Where are you parked?”

“Right out front. I’ll be fine.”

She stood at the door, watching the woman move down the street and into a mid-sized dark car. When the headlights came on and she pulled out into traffic, Georgia stood there for a long moment watching her drive off.

Earlier fatigue evaporated only to be replaced by a buzzing energy. She moved back to the booth and was greeted by her own half-eaten plate of food.

“Go home,” KC said, placing a takeout container on the table.

She looked up, realizing Rudy’s had nearly cleared out. “Right.”

“You okay?” KC slid into the booth across from her.

“Sure. I’m fine. Amber Ryder is an enigma.”

He rested hands on the table. “She’s prettier th

an I remembered.”

“She reminds me a little of Annie. Independent. Alone. Living on her terms.”

His voice had a gruff sound as if somewhere along the way the tones had been chewed up in a meat grinder. “She’s pretty like Annie. But she’s not Annie.”

“Oh, I know. I’m not harboring any mommy issues.”

He grunted. “She’s matured. One hell of an attractive woman.”

A smile teased the edges of her lips. “Well, look at you ogling a twenty-something.”

He smoothed a weathered hand over his bald head. “Just an observation. Bishop know you called her?”

Laughing, she drained the last of her soda watered down from the melting ice. “Didn’t realize I needed his permission.”

A smile tugged at the edges of his lips. “I thought you were a team.”

She shifted, tamping down the irritation that Bishop’s name always stirred. “Not a team. Coworkers with a shared goal.”

KC boxed up the leftovers of her meal and pushed the carton toward her. “Buddy said Amber’s amnesia was convenient as hell. He said if you were gonna go into the woods looking for trouble and found it, then a good dose of not-remembering might be the only plausible excuse given the grade-three concussion. But the boys in missing persons could never trip her up. And with no bodies, homicide didn’t participate much in the investigation.”

“She said she’s glad I’m investigating. Wants me to set the record straight. Wants a clean slate.”

His Hawaiian shirt pulled tight against his small paunch as he shifted. “Maybe.”

“She’s not stupid. She said she still gets threatening texts around the anniversary.”

“Not surprising. Lots of crazies in the world.”

“Fair enough.”

“My one piece of advice: Don’t count out Bishop. He’s a top cop.”

“You should have seen the smug grin on his face when he delivered me the case files.”

“There must have been a mountain of files.”

“Twenty boxes, packed tight.” Each time she considered the task of quitting, she thought about Bishop’s smug grin. She’d be damned before admitting defeat.

Tags: Mary Burton Morgans of Nashville Suspense
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