"How did he die?"
Morgan cleared her throat. Pain, shame, and anger warred within her, each emotion struggling to win the dominant spot. "Over the course of a month, he lost everything we had in a snowballing series of bad investments. All that was left was this house and my business, the two things I owned free and clear without him. He hanged himself in his office bathroom on a Tuesday morning when London stopped trading."
"I'm so sorry, Morgan," Kurt said. He stopped at the base of the deck steps and put his hand over hers on the railing. Standing on the first step, she turned and realized she stood at eye level with him. He had gray-green eyes in a happy, tanned face. Everything about him — his smile, his relaxed manner — put her at ease and made her feel like she'd known him her whole life.
She smiled and turned her hand so that their palms touched. "Thank you. It's been a couple of years, but it still is sometimes hard to think about." She shrugged. "A girl likes to think her love is enough. But that isn't always the way it is." Needing to lighten the air around them, she turned back around. "Let's check those steaks."
As they climbed the steps onto the deck, Morgan heard sirens. She heard them from her downtown office all the time, but rarely in her safe little gated well-to-do community. As she listened, police cars raced past her house and turned on the next street over. From her vantage point on the deck, she watched and listened. Seconds later, an ambulance followed.
When it stopped in front of the house whose property catty-cornered her acreage, her stomach started turning in nervous little flips. With fumbling hands, she turned the dials on the grill to the 'OFF' position, cutting off the flame and turning off the gas.
"We have to go," she whispered.
Kurt was by her side immediately, a warm hand enveloping her elbow. "What's wrong?"
Morgan pointed at the distant lights of the emergency vehicles in front of the house adjacent to hers. "That's my sister's place."
Kurt looked over at the ambulance. Morgan watched him double check the gas dials then pull his keys out of his pocket. "I'll drive."
¯¯¯¯
MELODY lay unconscious on the hospital bed. One side of her face looked so bruised and battered that Morgan had a hard time recognizing her. She walked over and sat in the chair next to the bed and picked up Melody's unbandaged hand. It was so limp. Morgan fought back a sob. Melody never even got bad colds.
"I should have picked her up from the airport," she whispered as guilt tore through her. "Her car was there, but I should have picked her up."
"You didn't do this," Kurt said as he laid a hand on her shoulder.
Tears fell from Morgan's eyes. "Some first date, huh?"
His hand gently compressed the muscles in her tense shoulder, communicating comfort and understanding. They remained still in that silent tableau for perhaps a few minutes, neither wanting to change the moment, perhaps hoping that their silent concentration would hasten Melody's return to consciousness.
A few minutes later, two men walked through the door. Kurt glanced up at them and recognized the tall one with the sandy hair as Detective Roberts. With a bit of a sick feeling, he remembered Roberts as one of the lead detectives on the team that had investigated Angela Montgomery's death. It looked like his partner had finally retired. The man accompanying him today looked much younger, with dark hair and dark eyes and stood stiffly, as if at attention.
Roberts' eyes skimmed over Kurt, recognition dawning, but he did not speak to him. "Mrs. Hamilton," he began quietly but insistently as Morgan looked up, "My name is Detective Jeremy Roberts. Jerry. This is my partner, Detective John Suarez. We need to ask you a few questions about your sister."
"I don't know how much help I can be to you, Detective. I don't know what happened to her, or who could have done this to her. I'm afraid we all have to wait for her."
Suarez sat down across from Morgan and stared at her until she met his eyes again. He said in a very soft voice, "No one should get away with doing this, Mrs. Hamilton. No one. I take this kind of thing very personally. So while you don't think you can be of any assistance, I would consider it a personal favor if you could find it in your heart to humor me and let me do my job so we can catch this guy."
He kept his eyes locked on hers and she searched his face. He wasn't just reciting a script. He meant it. The sight of Melody in this condition angered this man, this policeman, on a personal level. She knew that he would not let this go. His sincerity moved her out of her very confining stress and worry. "Okay."
Suarez didn't smile. He just nodded. "Do you know if your sister has received any threats recently?"
"No."
"Have you seen any suspicious cars, people, or activity in your neighborhood recently? Anything at all out of place or out of the ordinary? Delivery vans delivering when no one's home? Lights on at odd hours? Dogs barking at odd times of day or night? Anything like that?"
"Not really. We live in a gated community. A family moved in about three houses down from her a few weeks ago, but other than that there's been nothing out of the ordinary."
He nodded again. "Do you know if your sister has any enemies, anyone who would want to hurt her?"
"Her ex-fiancé. Two weeks ago, she left him at the alter when she caught him cheating on her. His name is Richard Johnson. But I can't imagine him doing this to her."
"We'll need to talk to him anyway." Detective Roberts said. "How do we reach him?"
"I don't have his number. But my friend Ginger should be able to get it. Melody met Richard at a party at her dad's house."
"What's Ginger's full name?" asked Suarez.
Morgan felt Melody's hand twitch beneath her fingers and she turned her attention from the detectives back to her younger sister. She saw the flutter of eyelashes as Melody fought the medications the doctors had administered and struggled to wake up.
"Melly, baby, it's me, Morgan. Melly, honey, wake up," she stood up and leaned over the bed. But, her hand stilled and an alarm next to her bed started beeping.
Morgan felt hands on her shoulders gently but firmly moving her out of the way. A nurse took her spot by the bed. A team rushed into the room headed by the on-call doctor. Despite Morgan's protests, Kurt and the police officers ushered her out of the room.
She stood with her back to the wall by the door, desperate to get back in there. Impatience made her snappy when Detective Suarez resumed the questions. "What do you know about your sister's activities in the last couple of days."
"Look, she's been gone to London for two weeks. I don't know anything."
"Was she there for work, or on vacation?" Roberts asked.
Morgan shook her head as if to clear it. "What? Oh, she was supposed to be on her honeymoon."
Suarez waited then said, "But she left him at the alter?"
"Yes," Morgan whispered, feeling the blood drain from her face when the doctor stepped out. "Doctor?"
He shook his head. "She's stable for now but it isn't good. I've ordered a bed for her in the ICU just in case she takes a sudden wrong turn, and the head neurologist is on his way. There is some pretty serious swelling of her brain right now. Until I see the head CT, I really can't tell you anything else. Is your sister a fighter?"
"What?" Morgan said, the words the doctor said somehow not making any sense.
"Is she tough? Is she a fighter?"
Morgan thought about the question, actually considering it. She remembered how Melly had held up after their parents had died on the Atlanta highways. She remembered how Melly had kept her back up after her brother-in-law killed himself, how Melly had pulled Morgan out of her depression spiral and self-pity. Yes, Melly was tough. She had an inner strength that few women could honestly claim. Morgan slowly nodded in response to the doctor's question.
"Okay. That's good. So what I can tell you is that it's pretty bad right now. I'm not going to lie to you. But she's a fighter, okay? So hold onto that."
Morgan put a hand to her mouth and felt Kurt's arm go aro
und her shoulders. Not caring that she barely knew anything about her date, she turned her face to his chest and cried, fear washing over her in waves. She heard the doctor saying some things to the police but she didn't really listen to his words. Then she heard him walk away before she heard the tattoo beat of high heels running down the hospital corridor.
Morgan knew who she would see before she even looked up. She stepped away from Kurt and opened her arms as her best friend, Ginger Patterson, rushed to her. "I just heard. Daddy's parking the car. Oh my goodness, the world isn't safe anywhere anymore."
The comforting smell of Ginger's stupidly expensive perfume filled Morgan's nostrils. "I knew you'd come."
"Of course we came! Who do ya'll have besides me and Daddy?" Ginger stepped back. She wore her blonde hair piled high on her head with ringlets escaping everywhere. Her black pantsuit outlined her dancer's body and a gold belt highlighted her slim waist. Ginger stood well over six feet tall in her cheetah patterned heels. She narrowed her eyes at Kurt. "Who are you?"
Kurt smiled. "Kurt Lawson. Morgan and I were having dinner when the ambulance …"
"Dinner?" Morgan watched as Ginger looked Kurt up and down. Her best friend was incorrigible. Morgan actually grinned as she swallowed a chuckle.
"Yes, with me," Morgan said, looping her arm through Ginger's. "Let's go sit. They're moving her to ICU."
¯¯¯¯
JERRY Roberts and Jonathan Suarez waited in the outer office of Mike Redman, head of security at M & L Technologies.
The secretary responded to a buzz from her desk phone. "Mr. Redman will see you now. Please go in."
The two detectives walked through the double doors and into another outer office. Sliding doors to the left were open to reveal security panels and walls of monitors. Three uniformed employees milled around the room, and one sat in one of the three swivel chairs while he typed something at a monitor station. From the interior of that room, Mike Redman came out.
He did not wear the suit and tie that Roberts remembered him wearing six months before. Instead, he had on a red golf shirt with the Atlanta Police Department logo on the chest. His biceps muscles bulged out from under the sleeve. He had salt and pepper hair, cut military short, and a tanned face that framed icy blue eyes. Roberts remembered those shirts from the last golf fundraiser. "Mike," he said, holding out his hand. "It's good to see you."
"Jerry," he said, shaking his hand with genuine warmth. He looked at Suarez and gave him a sideways grin. "Detective Suarez, congratulations on your promotion."
Suarez was surprised he remembered him. He worked for Redman when he was a rookie in the department, but ten years had easily passed. "It's good to see you again, sir."
Mike waved a dismissive hand. "Please, it's just Mike, now." He gestured to the sitting area off to the side from his desk. "Come, sit. How can I assist Atlanta's finest today? Is this about Angela?"
"I wish it were," Roberts said with a grim look. "I want to close that case so badly."
"Me, too. Almost enough to rejoin if they'd let me." He sat on the edge of the couch but did not sit back and relax. Instead, he leaned forward, his hands forming a steeple, and rested his elbows on his knees. "So, what do you need, guys?"
"We had an incident two weeks ago with a passenger on a flight coming in from Newark."
Mike raised his eyebrow. "An incident?"
"Yes," Suarez said, "a woman was badly beaten and is still in a coma."
"And what does that have to do with M & L?"
"Mr. Montgomery was on that flight," Roberts said. "Passengers think they saw him interacting with the assault victim."
Mike shook his head. "I don't know anything about it, gentlemen, and I debriefed the boss personally the day after his return. Mr. Montgomery is currently in a closed door meeting but I can clear time if it's important."
Suarez pulled out his notes, "No problem Mike. Can you account for his whereabouts on the night he arrived?"
Redman sat straighter, picking up on the all business tone. "All right, guys, level with me. There's other private sector jobs I can do. Is my employer a suspect?"
Jerry Roberts shook his head. "No, Mike. We're just chasing leads. Person of interest. You know the deal."
Mike sat back, visibly relaxed. "He came into the office that night around 15 'til 6. I've got video of him coming and going if you need proof. We store it forever. Before that he was at his hotel. Probably they have footage too."
Roberts said, "The perpetrator messed this girl up pretty bad. Kind of like that Lawrenceburg Mall thing a few years ago."
Mike let out a low whistle then clicked back into investigator mode. "I can tell you for sure that Mr. Montgomery showed no signs of being involved in any kind of struggle. He had no fight bites, no abrasions or contusions on his hands or knuckles, and no visible scratches. Also, and this is important I think, he looked happy for the first time since his wife was killed. Said London was good for him. You know perps. If the boss had just beat up some random woman he met on a plane, he would have been manic or just, 'off' somehow. Not the case. The boss was mellow."
Suarez flipped his notebook closed just as his cellphone vibrated. He checked the incoming message and stood. "Looks like she's trying to wake up."
All three men stood. "Let me know if you still need to talk to Mr. Montgomery after you interview her," Mike said.
Roberts nodded and shook his hand. "I'm certain we won't. But, I'll call you if something comes up."
Suarez shook Mike's hand. "Thank you, sir."
"Anytime, guys. I'm here five days a week. Sometimes four."
Roberts grinned at the dig while trying to remember his last full day off. "Thanks for everything, Mike. See ya soon."
¯¯¯¯
WHEN Melody heard Morgan calling her name, and heard tears in her voice, Melody knew she had to get to her, to comfort her. Fighting the mist, the pain in her body became tangible, and she started to understand what Morgan was saying. I think she's waking up … Kurt, get the doctor … Melly, honey, open your eyes…
Suddenly, she found herself on a bed in a hospital room. That realization took a back seat to the pain that crushed her. Her entire body ached and specific areas throbbed.
People stood all around her. As they came into focus, she saw Morgan standing next to a man she didn't recognize and a doctor standing at the foot of her bed. She felt so thirsty. What had happened? She looked over and saw her sister, tears streaming down her face, gripping her hand.
"Morgan," she managed to get past her dry lips.
"I'm right here, baby."
"I'm thirsty."
Morgan looked at the doctor for consent. At his nod, she grabbed the cup of water from the table next to the bed. She held the straw to Melody's lips. Melody took a couple of sips, swallowed, then leaned back, strangely exhausted from the effort of drinking.
"Melly, do you remember what happened?" Morgan asked as she grabbed her sister's hand again, "Someone attacked you outside of your house."
Melody closed her eyes, wanting to escape from the pain in her head. She started to drift away, when Morgan's words registered. She squeezed her eyes in concentration, trying to remember. Driving home, she had a song on her mind she needed to put on paper, when … Her eyes flew open, the memory suddenly and terrifyingly clear.
"Richard. Oh, Morgan, Richard was at my house when I came home." She squeezed Morgan's hand tighter. "He was so angry, and he … and he —" she couldn't finish as the sobs tore through her.
The first sob wracked through her chest and she felt her broken ribs give a little bit. The unbelievable pain when she felt her broken bones grinding against each other made her gasp at the end of her sob. Ironically, the gasp made her want to cry even harder.
Morgan stood, then carefully sat on the side of the bed. She gingerly wrapped her arms around her baby sister.
"It's all right, Melly. You're safe now." She looked up as Roberts and Suarez came into the room. She demanded, "Did you eve
r find Richard Johnson? She just said Richard did this to her."
"The person who called himself Richard Johnson does not exist." Suarez said as he pulled a phone out of his jacket pocket. "All the contact information Patterson had was bogus. There is nothing on him in any system we can access including the NCIC database."
Melody put a hand over her mouth. "I think I'm going to be sick," she said.
The doctor intervened and gently guided the men out of the room. "Gentlemen, she's been in a coma for two weeks. She identified her attacker. Can a formal statement wait until tomorrow? Give her a little bit of time to get her feet under her?"
¯¯¯¯
CHAPTER 5
FOUR YEARS LATER
Nashville
December
"NEXT up on WKIB the Kibble is Melody Mason singing her eight top ten hit, 'Not Until You'. She's managed to hold the number one spot for four weeks with this song, folks. Be sure to tune in tonight and listen to the countdown to see if she can hold onto that number one spot for week number five." Melody smiled as she heard her voice coming over the radio. She thought that she would eventually get used to listening to herself sing, but she still felt a tinge of startled pride whenever she saw one of her videos or heard her voice coming over the airwaves.
The last four years had passed like a dream. After several months of recovery from her beating, she decided to move from Atlanta and make a fresh start. Over dinner one night, she told David Patterson her dreams. He confessed that he had an old record label that he hadn't put to any good use for a long time, and offered her a contract. Within weeks of her move to Nashville, with David's help, she finished recording her first album. By the end of the first year, two of her songs had made it to the top ten of the country music charts. She had won the Country Music Association's Horizon Award for best new female vocalist, and then watched her first album go platinum before it went double platinum.
A Melody for James (Christian Suspense) Page 5
