Treasuring Amber: The Temptation Saga: Book Five

by Hardt, Helen;

  “Hold on, Bay,” Blake interjected. “This doesn’t need to get violent. Not at this stage.”

  The asshole was right. Though it pained him, Harper let Bernie go. “Where’s your brother?”

  “How in hell should I know?”

  “Because he’s your brother, you idiot.”

  “I have his address. That’s all I can give you.”

  “How about his number?”

  “Well, of course I have that.”

  “Call him. Get him over here.”

  “Right now? What for?”

  “So we can all have a goddamned tea party. Christ!” Harper lunged for the man again, but Blake pulled him back.

  “Just call him, Bern,” Blake said. “This guy’s a hothead.”

  “What is he? Some kind of enforcer?”

  “Worse. He’s a lawyer.”

  Harper eased off Bernie and turned to look at Amber. Her lips were trembling.

  “Just get him over here,” Harper said. “Tell him it’s some kind of emergency. You need to see him.”

  “What for?”

  “I don’t know. Make something up. Tell him your mother’s in the hospital.”

  “My mother’s dead.”

  “Your father then. I don’t give a flying fuck. Just get the bastard over here.”

  “I have a better chance of getting him over here for a beer than for either one of our parents.”

  “A beer then. Jesus Christ, just get him here.”

  Bernie shook his head and picked up his cell phone. “Hey, Lance.” Pause. “Can you come over? I’m havin’ some trouble with my hard drive. I’ll treat you to dinner.” Pause. “As soon as you can. I have a deadline on a project.” Pause. “Great. See you in a few.”

  He clicked the phone off. “About half an hour. So what now?”

  Harper sat down on a couch covered in newspapers. “We wait.”

  A half hour later, a man even stockier and greasier than Bernie arrived. He oozed sleaziness, with slicked-back black hair and a short goatee. His beer belly flopped over too-tight jeans. If Harper had kids, he sure as hell wouldn’t leave them alone with the likes of this guy.

  “I didn’t know it was a party,” Lance said, looking around the room.

  “It’s not,” Bernie said.

  “So what’s going on with your hard drive, bro?”

  “Well, uh…these guys have some questions about the Rachel’s site.”

  Lance frowned. “Who the hell are these people?”

  Harper stood. “I’m an attorney from Colorado. It’s come to my attention that you’re posting photos of women without their permission.”

  “Bernie, I’ll fuckin’ kill you.” With fists clenched, the creep turned to Harper. “I run a legitimate operation. I have model releases on file for all the photos I post.”

  “Yeah? Then why’d you just tell your brother you’re gonna kill him?”

  “Because he’s an idiot. He knows that web site is nobody’s business.” He eyed Bernie. “Last time I give you any passwords for your own pleasure.”

  “So you’re legit, huh?” Harper had his doubts. “Then you won’t mind if we see these model releases.”

  “See them? You want to see them, call a cop. Get a warrant.”

  “How about I get Paul Donetto over here to break your legs instead?” Harper stalked forward. “We’re leaving the cops out of it to protect the ladies. But hey, you want to play hard ball? It can be arranged.”

  Lance’s square body visibly stiffened. “You know Donetto?”

  “He’s a personal friend.” Well, not quite, but he knew the man.

  Lance’s eyebrows shot up.

  “I also know all the cops on his payroll.” That part was a bluff.

  Lance’s pasty complexion turned greenish-gray. He looked like he was about to lose his lunch. He turned to his brother. “Bern?”

  Bernie shook his head, his face the same gray hue. “Hey, I didn’t know he was a friend of Donetto’s, I swear. I thought he was just worried about the web site.”

  “Fine. You can come and see all the model releases.” Lance paced the floor of the small room. “Then will you leave me the fuck alone?”

  “Sure.” Harper hated lying. He was an honest man. But Lance was scum. He’d stay on his back until this was resolved.

  They piled into the car and followed Lance to his place. His nice place. Posting porn on the web obviously paid very well.

  “I work out of my home,” he said, as they walked to the door.

  “Damn,” Blake said. “This is one nice setup.”

  “It’s home,” Lance said.

  “How come you let your brother live in that shithole apartment?”

  “When he brings in some dough, he can live wherever he wants. I made the cash for this place. The only person who lives here is me.”

  “Whatever,” Harper said. He was tired of this. “Let’s see the files, please.”

  “Right this way.”

  They entered the house and Lance led them to a fully finished full basement that had been turned into an office. “I keep all important documents in these filing cabinets.” He gestured to the oak cabinets.

  Harper could hardly believe his eyes. This was some classy set up for a guy who made a living in Internet porn. It clearly did more than just pay the bills.

  “Let’s have a look,” he said.

  Lance opened a drawer and starting leafing through files. “Here’s the file on the Rachel’s girls. What name are you looking for?”

  Amber stepped forward. “Cross. Look for Amber Cross.”

  Lance sat down at his huge oak desk and starting going through the papers. “A, B, C, here we go. Amber Lynn Cross, is that the one?”

  Harper glanced at Amber. Her face had whitened, and her knuckles gripped the chair in front of her. He took the paper from Lance. It was a standard model release for pornographic material. Harper shook his head. Like he’d ever seen a standard model release for pornographic material. But it looked legitimate. “There’s a signature here. Is it yours?”

  Amber grabbed the paper from him. Her complexion turned from white to ashen. “It looks a lot like my signature, but I swear to God, Harper, I never signed this.”

  Sure you didn’t.

  Harper growled. Who made him angrier, Amber or Lance? At the moment he wasn’t sure. “Let me see that file,” he said to Lance.

  “I don’t know. These are confidential papers—”

  Harper stepped forward and grabbed the file from Lance’s desk. He was sick to death of the sight of this creep.

  “Do you know any of the other girls’ real names?” he asked Amber.

  “Only Laura Lee, my roommate. Her name is Laura Ferguson.”

  Harper leafed through the papers and handed one to Amber. “This her signature?”

  Amber’s lips trembled. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I ever saw her signature. We each paid our own bills.”

  “Never saw a rent check or anything?”

  “I…I can’t remember. I’m sorry.”

  “See, man?” Lance rubbed his slimy goatee. “I told you I run a clean operation here.”

  “Were you present when any of the girls signed these?” Harper asked.

  “Nope. I get the photos and the releases sent to me, and I put them up on the site.”

  Was it possible the creep was actually innocent? Harper shook his head. His mother’d always said, “don’t judge a book by its cover.”

  “Get up,” he said. “I need to use your computer.”

  “Now just wait a minute—”

  Harper stalked behind the desk, seized Lance by the collar, and yanked him out of the chair. “I said get the fuck up.”

  Harper sat down and pulled up Microsoft Word. He typed in some standard language and hit print. When the paper came out of the printer, he glanced at it and then handed it to Amber. “Sign this. It’s a revocation of the model release. Once you sign it, he has to take your photos down.”
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  “Gladly,” Amber said.

  “I’ll need to see the lady’s identification,” Lance said. “I’m runnin’ a business here, after all.”

  Harper’s ears grew warm. He was about to lose it. “For Christ’s sake.”

  “It’s okay, Harper,” Amber said. “I’ll show him my ID. Anything to get those pictures down.” She fumbled in her purse, took out a wallet, and extracted a driver’s license. “Here.”

  Lance looked at it and nodded.

  “Satisfied?” Harper rose from the chair, took the release from Amber, and handed it to Lance. “Make two copies of this. One for me and one for the lady.”

  “I’ll do it, bro.” Bernie took the release and ambled to the copy machine across the room.

  “Now get those fucking photos off the site,” Harper said, “and delete every one of them from your hard drive. I also want any copies you have destroyed. Is that clear? As far as anyone’s concerned those photos never existed.”

  “Fine, fine.” Lance sat down at the computer. “This’ll take a little time.”

  “You have ten minutes.”

  “Ten minutes? I’m gonna need a couple hours.”

  “Then I guess we wait. Have a seat, you two,” he said to Blake and Amber.

  Amber sat down, her body visibly shaking. “Harper?”

  “What?”

  “If he destroys the photos, we don’t have any evidence.”

  Evidence? Why would she be concerned about evidence? Was it possible she’d been telling the truth about the photos all along? Harper’s heart pounded. “You want to press charges?”

  “Not against Lance. I think he’s actually innocent. But the fact remains that I did not sign that paper, and I did not pose for those pictures. Yet the pictures are definitely of me, and that looks a lot like my signature. There’s only one explanation. I was drugged by Marta and her friend. And so were the other girls.”

  Either she was convinced she spoke the truth, or she was one damn stubborn liar. He wasn’t sure which yet, though her concern for the other girls was admirable.

  “Look,” Harper said, “we got you taken care of here. If we want to press this further, we have to bring in the cops, and then the whole thing goes public. Is that what you want?”

  “Yes. No. Damn it, I don’t know.” Tears welled in Amber’s eyes. “We’ve taken care of me, but how can I just waltz out of here knowing that other girls have been violated too? And they’ll keep doing it. It’s not right, Harper.”

  Harper’s heart ached. He wanted to take her in his arms, tell her everything would be okay. But no…she was not the woman for him. Probably not, anyway. Still, she had a conscience, and she was right. Leaving the other girls, who might not know they were on the web site, was wrong.

  “What do you want to do?”

  “I just don’t know. I want to go home. But I’m not sure I have a home anymore. I guess I need to go to my mama’s. Her house is a shambles and I want to fix it up for her.”

  “This is the same woman who kicked you out, right?”

  “Yes, I know. But she…she needs me right now. I don’t think she’s right in the head, Harper.”

  “If we take you there, will you take the rest of the day to think this through? Figure out what you want to do? Because if this woman is drugging girls, we’ll need to bring in some big guns to investigate. I’ve got a good PI, but if he finds what he’s probably going to find, we have to call the cops.”

  She nodded. “I understand. And I know I’ll be dethroned as rodeo queen and I’ll have to leave town.”

  Harper hoped she wasn’t right. Bakersville was a nice town, but it was also a small town, and not immune to gossip and innuendo.

  “Hey, look, I’m a businessman. I can’t have cops sniffing around here,” Lance said. “It wouldn’t look good.”

  “Tough shit,” Harper said. “In your line of work, you’re bound to come across some lowlifes. This can’t be news to you. You cooperate with whomever I send your way or I’ll have Paul Donetto in here so fast you won’t know what hit you. And you’ll wish you’d chosen the cops.”

  Lance’s greasy face whitened. Paul Donetto struck fear in him, just as he did in Blake. Harper wouldn’t be surprised if Donetto already had a hand in this fiasco, though he imagined this was small potatoes next to smuggling drugs and women.

  “Fine, fine. Let’s just get this over with as soon as possible, okay? I got a business to run.”

  “I’m going to need your URLs so I can make sure the photos are taken down. They’re not on any other site are they?”

  “If they are, I didn’t put them there. This site is for Rachel’s girls only, and they serve a very elite clientele. Clients pay top dollar for access, and the site claims the photos are exclusive. Whether they actually are? I have no idea.”

  “Seems we can assume they are for now,” Harper said.

  “So do you want them destroyed or not?” Lance said.

  Harper looked at Amber. “Your call.”

  Her golden eyes were troubled. “I… Whoever took the photos has copies, I’m sure. Yes.” Her eyes went from troubled to blazing. “Destroy the damn things.”

  “Good enough.” Lance sat down at his computer. “They’ll be history in a few hours.”

  “Fine,” Harper said. “I’ll take you at your word for now. I want to get Amber out of here. She’s had enough for one day. I’ll be back tomorrow for those URLs. Bernie, can you take Blake back to our hotel?”

  “Sure.”

  “Good. I’ll take our rental. Come on.” He took Amber’s arm and helped her up. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  After picking up her car, Amber drove sullenly, Harper following her, to Karen’s house. Amber had long gotten over embarrassment in front of Harper. For him to see the cracker box she’d grown up in was nothing compared to those awful photos.

  So this was what her life had come to.

  A father she didn’t know because he wanted her mother and her dead. She still couldn’t wrap her mind around that one. She’d met the man.

  Photos taken of her without her knowledge or consent, and a paper with her signature on it giving permission for the horrible things to be posted.

  And Harper. Harper, who’d come to her rescue, but only out of loyalty to his sister. Not out of love for her. She still wasn’t the woman he’d thought she was.

  “This is it,” she said as he got out of his car.

  His dark eyes were sunken and sad. Was he feeling sorry for her? Well, she didn’t need his pity.

  “You really grew up here?”

  “We did okay.”

  “Till she kicked you out?”

  Amber didn’t respond. She didn’t want to think about that. Right now she wanted to go inside and have a cup of tea and figure out what to do. But inside was still a shambles.

  “Is your mother home?” he asked.

  “Probably. She’s not working. Most likely passed out somewhere.”

  “Let’s go in and make sure she’s okay.”

  “All right.” She was no longer embarrassed by her mother either. “In fact, there’s something I want to ask you about.”

  “What?”

  “It’s about my father.”

  “All right.”

  They went in and found Karen at the kitchen table. She’d actually gotten dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, and she almost looked like she’d showered.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Hello, Mama. This is Harper Bay.”

  “Nice to meet you. He your boyfriend?”

  Amber’s cheeks warmed. She inhaled. “Just a friend.” She strode to the counter and put a pot of water on for tea. “Sit down, Harp. You want a cup?”

  “Sure. Nice to meet you…”

  “Karen. Nice to meet you too.”

  Amber put three mugs and tea bags on the table and sat down. “Harper knows Thunder Morgan.”

  “You do, huh?”

  �
��Yes, ma’am. He was a friend of my father’s. A good man.”

  Karen simply nodded.

  “Don’t you have anything to say, Mama?”

  “About what?”

  “About my father? About Thunder Morgan?”

  “Why would I have anything to say about him?”

  Amber pounded her fist on the table. “Because yesterday you told me he threatened to kill us both!”

  Harper straightened in his chair.

  Karen fidgeted with a hangnail. “Did I say that?”

  “Yes, and after you’d sobered up.”

  Harper’s eyebrows rose. “Thunder Morgan wouldn’t hurt a flea.”

  “That’s what I thought. I’ve met him. He’s a nice man. Why do you think he wanted to kill us?”

  Karen pushed a blond tendril of hair behind one ear. “He made it clear to me that night that this was a onetime thing. He wasn’t gettin’ tied down to anyone, and if I didn’t want to go through with it I could back out, no hard feelins’.”

  “That’s a nice guy, Mama, not a killer.”

  “Yes, he was a nice guy, or so I thought.”

  “Didn’t he use a condom?”

  “I don’t remember. It was a long time ago, Amber.”

  “Well, whether he did or not really doesn’t matter. I’m here.”

  Karen nodded.

  “Ms. Cross?”

  “Hedstrom. Cross is my daddy’s name, remember?” Amber said.

  “Right, I’m sorry. Ms. Hedstrom, did he make any kind of threat to you and the child at all?”

  “Once Amber was born, I tried to contact him. I just wanted him to know he had a little girl. I wasn’t gonna ask him for anything.”

  “Yeah?” Amber said. “So what happened?”

  “I tracked down his number and called, and a woman answered.”

  “And?” Harper said. “She wasn’t his wife. He never married.”

  “I don’t know who she was. I assumed she was his wife. Coulda been a maid. A girlfriend. All I know is she asked who I was, and when I told her my name, she said if I ever called there again both me and the little brat would end up dead.”

  “So whoever she was, she knew you’d had Amber and knew it was from a night with Thunder,” Harper said.

  “Seemed that way.”

  “I can’t say for sure,” Harper said, “but my guess is that Thunder Morgan had nothing to do with any of this. If he didn’t make the threat personally, it’s possible he doesn’t even know you made that call.”