Treasuring Amber: The Temptation Saga: Book Five

by Hardt, Helen;

“What’s she saying?”

  “That you’re blackmailing her.”

  “See what I mean? That’s a total lie.”

  God, what a piece of filth. Harper wanted to blast through the phone and beat the shit out of him. “Buchanan, I was not born yesterday. I happen to know why you need money.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Stop singing that tune, Buchanan. It is so old and tired, and so am I.”

  “Where’d you get your so-called information?”

  “I have friends in high places. That’s all I’m saying. I can guarantee the accuracy of my information. Does the name Paul Donetto ring a bell?”

  Nothing but static on the line.

  “You still there?”

  A pause. Then, “Yes. What do you want?”

  “Me? Nothin’ at all. But Amber, she wants to be left alone to live her life. That’s not asking too much, is it?”

  “Man, I need money.”

  “I’m sure you do. But you’ve obviously mistaken me for someone who gives a damn about your sorry ass.”

  “You want to give me the money then?”

  Harper laughed into the phone. “You have balls, I’ll give you that.”

  “Let’s just say I don’t give a rat’s ass who gives me the money, but if I don’t get it, Miss Cross’s photos will be common knowledge to every person in Bakersville.”

  Red rage poured through Harper’s veins. “You do know I could have you arrested for extortion, don’t you?”

  “Where’s your proof?”

  “You’ve admitted it to me. And to Amber.”

  “Have me arrested, and the result will be the same. Lovely Amber is exposed. Literally.”

  “You really have no idea who you’re dealing with, do you? Do you think I was born yesterday?”

  “You’re a farm boy, Bay.”

  “A farm boy who’s also a licensed attorney. A licensed attorney who has no qualms about kicking your ass.”

  No response.

  Harper continued, “So let’s get something straight. You give the lady any more grief, and I’ll personally see to it that Paul Donetto gets a first class ticket to Bakersville. But you don’t have to worry about him breaking your legs.”

  “Oh? Why’s that?”

  “’Cause I’ll have beat him to it.”

  * * *

  Amber had hated to do it, but she borrowed a couple grand from Angie. She had to get out of town. Paying off Blake Buchanan wouldn’t solve her problem. It was a pain reliever, not a cure. She needed to go to the source.

  It was most likely a lost cause, but she had to try.

  “This is it,” she said to the cab driver.

  He stopped in front of the cracker box house with chipped gray paint. The lawn was dead, and a chain link fence surrounded the front yard. Trash littered the dead grass. A trike sat on the sidewalk outside the house.

  Amber counted out some bills and handed them to the driver. “Thanks,” she said.

  “Much obliged.” He got out of the cab and pulled her suitcase out of the trunk. “There you are, miss.”

  Amber nodded, took her bag, and walked to the front door. She took a deep breath and knocked.

  Knocked again. And a third time.

  Finally the door opened. A woman in a housecoat stood before her, cigarette dangling from the fingers of her left hand. Her lips were cracked and painted red, and her light blond hair was in disarray around a face that might have been pretty if it hadn’t been so hard. Heavy-lidded blue eyes gazed at her.

  Amber exhaled. “Hello, Mama.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “What do you want?”

  Amber gritted her teeth. “Nice to see you, too. May I come in?”

  “Don’t see anyone stoppin’ you.”

  Karen Hedstrom looked old. Old and worn-out and tired of life. In the last six years, she’d aged twenty.

  Amber walked through the open door.

  “Scat,” Karen said, and a cat jumped off the couch. Karen shoved some newspapers onto the floor. “Sit on down if you want.”

  “Thanks.” Amber sat, wondering if she should have brought some penicillin with her. At least a can of Lysol. Amazing her mother hadn’t died in this dump. “How’ve you been, Mama?”

  “How’ve I been? You’re gone six years and that’s what you ask? I been here. You wanted to know how I’m doin’, you coulda stopped by before now.”

  Seriously? Amber shook her head. “I think you’re forgetting the circumstances. You threw me out, remember?”

  “That’s right. I couldn’t afford to keep you any longer. Be glad I didn’t sell you off to one of those white slavers. I coulda gotten good money for a pretty girl like you.”

  White slavers? She is crazy. Or… “You’re drunk.”

  “Well, now, there’s a fuckin’ surprise, huh? Your old mama’s drunk.”

  “Let’s get you sobered up. I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

  “I haven’t been sober in years, darlin’.”

  “Yeah, I believe that.” Amber rose and went to the small kitchen. The acrid aroma of trash and cat pee met her nose. Her eyes watered. “I need a place to stay for a few days. And a car. You got one?”

  “Do I look like I can afford a car? I hardly leave the house.”

  “What about work?”

  “Got laid off two years ago. Collected unemployment, now I’m on welfare. Can barely pay the rent on this place and keep myself fed.”

  “But I see you have money for booze.” She shook her head. “That was always the way, wasn’t it?”

  “Necessities come first.” Karen cackled.

  “Well, I can’t live like this.” She puttered around in the kitchen and found some coffee. Thank God Karen still had a coffee maker. Amber started a pot, grabbed a rag, and began to wipe down the counters. “You’ll make yourself sick if you don’t clean this place up.”

  “No one asked you.”

  “I’m staying here for a few days. I’ll sleep in my old room.”

  “Sold your bed years ago.”

  “Then I’ll sleep on the couch.” She remembered the cat and changed her mind. “Maybe I’ll find a cheap motel.”

  “Suits me.”

  Unfortunately, she couldn’t afford to stay at a motel, even a cheap one, and she couldn’t ask Angie for more money. She had overstepped the bounds of friendship as it was. She had no idea when she’d be able to pay her friend back.

  “I’ll sleep in your bed then. You can have the couch.”

  “Just a minute—”

  “I’ll earn my keep, don’t worry. I’m going to bleach this place from top to bottom. I can’t stand the thought of you living in this filth.”

  “Ain’t you sweet.”

  “Sweet? Hell no. I can’t stand the sight of you, but you’re still my mama. And I have some questions only you can answer.”

  The coffee finished brewing, and Amber poured two cups. “Here, sober up.”

  She took a sip of her own cup and then went to the bedroom and stripped the bed. God only knew when her mother had last changed the sheets. She started the sheets in the rickety washing machine and went back to the kitchen. Under the sink she found some cleanser and dishwashing liquid. She washed the dishes in the sink, put them away, and then started on the hard part.

  “What you doin’ here anyway?” Karen asked.

  “Like I said, I have some questions for you. And I have some other business in town.”

  “Yeah? Like what?”

  “Not your concern.”

  “Then what are the questions you have for me?”

  “You sobered up yet?”

  “Hell, no.”

  “Have some more coffee. And no more vodka. I just washed ten glasses. Tell me something. If you’re laid off, why the heck do you let the house get like this?”

  “Just don’t care, I guess.”

  Amber shook her head. Her mother was a mess she’d have to deal wi
th at some point, but she had to fix her own life first.

  Amber kept one eye on Karen as she cleaned the kitchen until it shone. She went on to the living room and cleaned and vacuumed. Cleaned the cat’s litter box and disinfected all the bathrooms.

  After she put the sheets in the dryer, she started another load of Karen’s dirty clothes.

  By that time, Karen had passed out, her head plunked on the kitchen table.

  Good. She’d be sober when she woke.

  Amber continued cleaning. When she’d made a decent dent, she looked at her watch. Nearly five. Dinner time was approaching and she wasn’t the least bit hungry. She hadn’t been hungry since she’d eaten with Harper and her father.

  Her father.

  She had a lot of questions for Karen.

  She pawed through the cupboards and found a can of noodle soup. She heated it on the stove and then woke her mother.

  “Mama, I’ve got soup for you. And a glass of cold water.”

  Karen swayed her head upward. “What’re you doin’ here?”

  “I came to town. I’m staying here a few days. Remember?”

  “Yeah, yeah. You got any aspirin?”

  “Sure.” Amber fished in her purse and pulled out a bottle of ibuprofen. “Take these.”

  Karen took the pills.

  “Now eat some soup.”

  “Need a drink.”

  “No drinks for now. We need to talk.”

  Karen sighed. “What about?”

  “I want you to tell me about my father.”

  Her light blue eyes widened. “Your father? Shit, I haven’t thought of him in years.”

  “I’m sure you haven’t.”

  “His name was Morgan.”

  “Morgan Cross, I know. He was a bronc buster.”

  “Yeah. A champion bronc buster. Man, he was gorgeous.”

  Amber had no doubt. He was handsome now, as an older gentleman. And she’d seen photos of when he was young. She could only imagine how good he’d looked to Karen.

  “You have his eyes.” Karen smiled.

  Had she ever seen her mother smile?

  “I was workin’ as a cocktail waitress at a little place downtown. I was barely twenty-one. Thunder Morgan was in town for some publicity thing, and he came in. I’ll never forget what he ordered. A margarita with a shot of Cuervo on the side.” Karen smiled again. “As if the shot manned up the margarita. Can you imagine? Thunder Morgan drank sugary margaritas!”

  Didn’t surprise Amber all that much. Angie’s husband, Rafe, drank Tequila sunrises, and he was as manly as they came. “Some men like sweet drinks. So what?”

  “Hey, I didn’t bust his chops about it. Just thought it was cute. Hell, I ended up in the sack with him, didn’t I?”

  “Did you?”

  “If you met him and saw his eyes, you’d know the truth of that.”

  I have met him. I have seen his eyes.

  “So what happened?”

  “A classic one-night stand is all. He left town the next day. I never saw him again.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me he was Thunder Morgan?”

  Karen huffed. “I didn’t want you trailin’ after him, tryin’ to find him. Hopin’ your famous daddy would fix your life. You were born to be trash, just like I was.”

  An anvil settled in Amber’s gut. Why did Karen still get to her? Amber knew better, but still, this was her mother. No matter how old she got, how far away she went, she still wanted this woman’s approval.

  Time to face facts. She’d never get it.

  “He could have made your life a lot easier, Mama. He could have paid child support.”

  “Nope. I couldn’t do that.”

  “Why not? You were entitled to it. We were entitled to it.”

  “It’s a long story, and I can’t get into it right now. I need a drink.”

  “Damn it!” Amber pounded her fist onto the table.

  “Ouch. That hurts my ears.”

  “I don’t give a flying fuck, Mama! I’ve got problems of my own I need to work out, and that’s why I’m here. My first problem is you. Why didn’t you tell me my father was Thunder Morgan? And why didn’t you tell him he had a daughter?”

  “Damn it, Amber! You don’t understand what you’re talkin’ about.”

  “I understand that I had a father, a father who never knew about me. A father who could have made both our lives easier. Now you owe me an explanation. Why didn’t you go to him?”

  “Because he would have killed us both!”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Oh, it’s you.”

  Harper grabbed Blake Buchanan’s collar. “Where is Amber, damn it?”

  “How the fuck should I know? You’re crazy, man. Let me go.”

  He clenched his teeth, the anger for Blake and the fear for Amber settling in his gut. “You’re still blackmailing her, aren’t you, you piece of filth?”

  “I backed off, just like I told you I would. I haven’t talked to her in a few days, not since the day you called me.”

  “Judy says she left town. Took a leave of absence. Now where the hell is she?” Harper pushed Blake into the hotel room and down onto the bed.

  “You caught me off guard, but I’ll warn you, we’re pretty evenly matched,” Blake said, massaging his neck.

  “Not as mad as I am, we aren’t. Where the hell is she?”

  “I told you, I haven’t got a clue. What do you care anyway? You told me yourself she wasn’t your girlfriend.”

  “She’s not, but that doesn’t mean I’m not concerned.” Concerned? He was downright worried. Sick to his stomach worried.

  I miss her.

  Damned inner voice. No, he didn’t miss her. He was worried. That was all.

  “I can have Paul Donetto here in a couple hours. All I have to do is say the word.”

  “You’re bluffing,” Blake said.

  “You wanna take that chance?”

  “Bay, I may not have a choice. I really don’t know where she is. Ask your sisters. They seem pretty thick with her.”

  Harper shook his head. “You really are a moron, aren’t you? They’re the first two I asked. Either they don’t know or they’re not saying.”

  “Look, I know you’re upset. I really didn’t want to hurt the poor girl. I was desperate.”

  “Not half as desperate as you’re gonna be.”

  “Calm down.” Blake rubbed his temples. “She can’t be that hard to find. If you were able to trace me to Donetto, you can easily find Amber Cross.”

  Harper let out a sigh. The man had a point. He’d just been so damned angry. She could have gone to San Antonio. Or she could have gone to Thunder Morgan. She might have gone to see her mother. Blake was right. She’d be easy to track.

  Chad McCray knew a good PI, Larry something or other. He had no more use for Blake Buchanan. He left without another word.

  Within an hour, Larry had located Amber in San Antonio.

  Harper tried calling her cell. No answer. He called Catie. She hadn’t heard anything from her. Not wanting to worry the new mother, he didn’t elaborate.

  Angie was next.

  First his older sister refused to say anything. When he told her he knew she was in San Antonio though, Angie sang like a canary.

  “I loaned her some money. She practically begged me. She was so distraught I couldn’t say no. But I’m scared, Harp. God knows what kind of people we’re dealing with here.”

  He sat, silent, his heart thumping and his mind reeling. Amber.

  Damn, Amber, what have you done?

  “Are you there?” Angie asked.

  He cleared his throat. “I’m here.”

  “Please help her. I have a terrible feeling about all of this.”

  So did he. Like someone had knifed him in the gut. “I don’t know who we’re dealing with either, Ang. But I know someone who does.”

  Blake Buchanan.

  “Please, Harp. If you can’t help her, find someone who can.”r />
  He nodded into the phone, knowing full well Angie couldn’t see it. “I will help her, Ang. I promise.”

  He hung up and dialed the Bakersville Hotel. When he was connected to Blake’s room, he said, “Don’t talk, just listen.”

  “What is it now?” Blake said. “I told you I don’t know where she is.”

  “I do. She’s in San Antonio. She’s obviously going to try to deal with this problem herself. I have a proposition for you.”

  “I’m not interested.”

  “I think you will be. How much are you into Donetto for?”

  “Twenty grand.”

  Twenty grand. Pennies to Harper, but millions to someone like Amber. And Blake Buchanan.

  “You come to San Antonio with me and help me get Amber out of this mess, and I’ll pay off Donetto for you.”

  “I want that in writing.”

  Harper rolled his eyes at the phone. “No, you don’t.”

  “Uh…yeah, I think I do.”

  “Trust me, you don’t. Donetto’s a criminal, you moron. Do you really want your name associated with his in writing?”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “You don’t think. That’s always been your problem, Buchanan. Now do we have a deal or not?”

  * * *

  Killed? Her mother had obviously gone crazy. That nice man she’d met at Harper’s wouldn’t kill anyone.

  “What on earth are you talking about?”

  “I’m serious. I tried to find him after you were born. When I finally got hold of him, some woman told me he wanted nothing to do with me or my bastard baby, that a baby didn’t fit into his plans, and if I tried to contact him again he’d have us both killed.”

  Amber’s skin crawled with invisible insects. Surely her mother was mistaken. Thunder Morgan? The man with her eyes? The man Harper knew and respected? The man she shared dinner with, who’d called her pretty lady?

  Couldn’t be.

  “Did you try again?”

  “Hell no! I couldn’t put us in danger. Though there’ve been plenty of times since then that I’ve thought I’d be better off dead.”

  For an instant Amber’s heart softened toward her mother. Then she remembered how the woman had kicked her out when she was barely sixteen. Thank God for Laura.