by Mary Burton
“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.
; “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.”
“I know, kid. I know the job has to come first.”
She pressed tired fingers to her forehead. “Where’s the baby?”
“Jenna has her.”
“Jenna? My sister-in-law?”
“Your brother Rick got Social Services on the phone. He talked to them for at least an hour and convinced them to let Jenna and him keep the baby for now.”
A sudden rush of tears welled in her eyes. “That’s what Buddy did for me.”
“He sure as hell did. I remember when your old man was on the phone talking to the social workers for you. He was a force to be reckoned with. Rick was the same way today.”
“I didn’t know they wanted children.”
“You know Rick. He plays his cards close to his vest.”
The stress that had coiled around her spine since she’d seen the baby crying released. She glanced at the clock. “It’s too late to call and check on them tonight.”
“All the arrangements for the baby came together only a few hours ago. Rick said he’d call you in the morning and give you an update.”
A tear snaked down her cheek and she swiped it away. “That works for me.”
“You okay, kid?”
“I keep thinking about Carrie. How could a man who says he loves the mother of his child do that to her?”
“You and I both know shit happens on the streets that make no sense. Evil is evil.”
“But she was the mother of his child. How could a father do that to his daughter?”
“Like I said, evil is evil.”
To argue this was pointless. KC was right. “Thanks for all you’ve done.”
“You sound dead on your feet.”
“I’m fine.”
His old chair squeaked and she imagined him leaning forward in it. “Go home and sleep. You’ll be no good to anyone tied up in knots and exhausted.”
“I will. Thanks.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
She hung up the phone and stretched her head from side to side. Buddy had gone to the mat for her when she was too little to defend herself. Rick would do the same for Sara. He would protect that kid with his life.
And yet some fathers turned on their children. Her own birth father, a married man Annie had loved, had denied her. Hal denied Sara her mother.
Closing her eyes, her mind suddenly tripped to Amber. There was no father in her life.
Not in the picture . . .
What if he had been around?
What if . . .
She moved to her computer and turned it on. When it was up and running, she went to the database of DNA samples and on a hunch printed out Amber’s, Mike’s, and Dalton Marlowe’s all taken five years ago.
The printer hummed out the documents as she hovered and waited, her heart thumping in her chest. When she had the printouts, she laid them on the large light table and looked at each one. She compared the size of the sixteen genetic markers.
She paired Dalton’s with Mike’s and could clearly see that the boy had inherited distinct markers from his father. Drawing in a breath, she lined up Amber’s results. It took less than a beat for her to see the truth. No one had seen it before. No one.
Dalton Marlowe was Amber’s biological father and Mike’s half sister.
She stepped back from the table, stunned. Not only by the connection, but what it also implied about the relationship Amber had shared with her brother and her father. Did she know?
Her phone rang, startling her. A glance at the display set her nerves on end. “Amber?”
“Georgia!” Amber’s panicked voice reached through the phone line.
“Amber, what’s wrong?” She pushed a strand of hair from her eyes, doing her best to keep her cool and not tip her hand.
“It’s Tim.”
“What about him?”
“He says he knows what happened in the woods.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Thursday, October 12, 10:00 P.M.
Georgia’s fatigue burned off in a blink as she stepped away from the light table in her lab. It was as if Amber sensed Georgia had connected these critical DNA clues. “How could Tim know what happened in the woods?”
“He said he was there and knows details. He has always known. He told me to meet me at the Middle Motel. Room 116.”
“Dalton Marlowe is dead.”
“What?” The word rushed over the line. “How could Dalton be dead?”
“He was murdered.”
“Did Tim do it?”
“We don’t know yet.” Georgia rose and slid her feet into her shoes. “Okay. Where are you?”
“I’m at the motel now. I can see him inside pacing in front of the window.”
“Don’t go in and talk to him until the police arrive.”
“I’ve got to find out what happened in the woods, Georgia. It has haunted me. If the cops show, he won’t talk to anyone and I might not ever find out.”
Whatever Amber’s relationship was to Marlowe and his son didn’t mean that Tim wasn’t a real threat to her now. “Wait for me.”
“Just hurry. I’ll wait for you outside the room.” Panic chased the words out in a rush.
Georgia rang off and tied her shoelaces before she called Jake. He answered on the third ring. “Jake Bishop.”
His voice was rough like gravel, heavy with fatigue. He and Rick would have been working nonstop on the Marlowe case and she wondered if he’d even gotten enough time to eat something. “Amber called me.”
“When?”
“Just now.” She recapped her call about Amber’s fear of Tim. “I’m headed over there.”
“Georgia, don’t engage her or Tim.” His tone sharpened, reached out as if trying to grab hold of her. “Wait until Rick and I can get there.”
“Where are you?” Georgia pulled her messy ponytail free of the hair band and combed her fingers through her hair.
“We’re ten to twenty minutes out.” In the background, she heard Rick mutter a curse.
“I’ll see you there.”
&
nbsp; “Don’t engage.” In the background, Rick said, “Listen to him, Georgia.”
“Jake, I pulled DNA for Marlowe and Amber. They’re father and daughter.”
His answer was a muttered curse. “Okay. We’ll deal with that in due order. Now, we’ve got to get Tim secured.”
She moved toward her desk where she kept a gun locked in the bottom drawer. She fished out her keys from her purse, unlocked the drawer, and removed the gun. “I won’t engage. Unless I have to.”
She ended the call to his curses. Shoving the phone in her back pocket, she rushed to her car. The moon hung high in the sky. The air was cool and crisp. This late there was little traffic and the drive went quickly.
Georgia spotted Amber’s car nosed in a spot next to room 116. She scanned the lot for Jake and Rick’s vehicle and seeing no sign of it knew she’d act alone if forced. She sat for several minutes before she saw the curtains flutter.
Room 116 had a large picture window now covered with a thick curtain. The curtains fluttered once and then twice more as if someone had peeked out of it.
“Damn it.” The gun holster now resting on her hip, she dug out her cell as she got out of the car. Dialing Jake, he answered on the first ring. “I see only Amber’s car. I don’t see her or Tim, but the window curtain in the room is moving. Someone is in the room.”
“Do not go in that room, Georgia,” Jake growled. “I’ve got uniforms on the way.”
“What if he’s in the room alone with her? You and I both know he could have killed Marlowe. It’ll take only a few seconds to incapacitate and then kill her.” She’d not been there for Carrie. She’d not been able to save her. “Tell the uniforms to come in without sirens. I don’t want to spook this guy.”
“Understood. I am minutes—seconds—out. Wait.”
Impatience clawed at her gut. “Jesus, she could be already dead.”
“Stay put!”
As she edged closer to the motel room, she heard the pop, pop, pop of gunfire. “Damn it.”
“What?”
“Shots fired. I have to go in.”
“No!”
Phone clutched in her hand, she unholstered her gun and raced toward the door, the blood in her veins pumping so hard that she couldn’t hear Jake’s shouted warnings.
