by Mary Burton
He laughed. “Think you can tolerate surrendering control of the wheel?”
She studied him, her eyes narrowing. “Let’s go.”
* * *
When Jake and Georgia arrived at the diner, it was eight in the morning. The tiny restaurant on the side of I-40 smelled of greasy fried eggs, overdone pancakes, and bacon a little too extra crispy. Behind the packed counter stood three short-order cooks who faced a hot grill, each flipping and preparing meals with precision and speed.
Georgia’s stomach grew unsettled as she smelled the strong scents of grease and bleach. Tightening her hand on a backpack that served as purse and go-bag equipped with a camera and a few basic necessities she always carried, she realized a few nuked leftover veggies for breakfast would have to hold her.
She approached the hostess, digging deep for a smile. “Table for three.”
The hostess studied her seating chart and shook her head. “It’s a half hour wait.”
“Half hour? Who sits for a half hour eating breakfast?”
Jake moved toward the hostess, a tall leggy blonde with ample perky breasts, a bright smile, and red manicured nails. He glanced at her name badge and smiled. “Cassie, I don’t suppose we could get a table for three.”
Cassie moistened red lips while counting out three menus. “I can get you a table, doll.”
He winked. “You’re the best.”
Annoyance stabbed at Georgia. Did the man ever throttle it back?
Jake glanced past her out the picture window and nodded. “My guess is that blonde walking toward the door is her.”
Georgia turned to see Amber. She wore jeans, an oversized gray top, and cowboy boots. Her blond hair was swept into a ponytail that caught the sunlight, and she moved with a self-confident ease.
“Amber,” she said. “Glad you could make it.”
Amber tightened her fingers around the strap of her purse, nodding as she approached. “Thanks for taking a look at the case.”
“Detective Bishop would also like to talk to you.”
“Sure. I’ll talk to whomever you say.”
His gaze sharpened and the easy friendliness faded. He might have been joking seconds ago, but he was all business now.
“I’m Detective Jake Bishop. You must be Amber Ryder.”
She raised her chin a notch as little bits of tension worked their way through her body. “Detective.”
The three moved through the diner, following the hostess who seated them and gave each a laminated menu. As tempted as Georgia was to eat something, this meeting was business, not pleasure. She ordered coffee and a bagel. Jake asked for coffee, black. At first, Amber ordered only coffee, but when Jake insisted she eat, she added on pancakes.
When the coffees arrived, Jake sat back in his seat. The sharpened angles of his face softened and his posture relaxed. Anyone glancing at him now could easily imagine they were just three friends sitting down for a coffee and talking about the weather.
Jake grinned, his demeanor relaxed. “Georgia tells me you’ve been going to school in Dallas. Graduated?”
“At the end of last summer.” She sipped her coffee.
“And working, too, I hear?”
“An account manager in an advertising company.”
“That sounds exciting,” he said scratching the side of his head. “Have you been back to Nashville since you left five years ago?”
“No. I don’t think I’d have returned if Georgia hadn’t called.”
Jake turned his cup so that the handle faced right. He picked it up and sipped. “You still keep tabs on the case?”
“At first, I checked online a lot. It was kind of an obsession. Those missing kids were friends of mine. I’ll never forget them. But life does move on, and I started checking less and less.” She swiped away a small blond ringlet from her eyes.
“No one else has contacted you?”
“I received texts. I told Georgia about the old ones and showed her the latest. For whatever reason, some people attached themselves to the case and contact me as if we know each other.”
“Seems all the more reason to steer clear of Nashville.”
“I couldn’t stay away. If I can help find my friends then I will.” She fished her phone from her purse and scrolled through messages. “I received another text last night. I didn’t recognize the number, but I think my arrival has been noticed.”
“What did the text say?” Jake asked.
Amber turned her phone so he could see the message. It read: You should be with Bethany and Mike.
Jake frowned. “Have any idea what that means?”
“No, but it gave me the creeps,” Amber said. “There were plenty of people that didn’t believe my story, including Dalton Marlowe. I was harassed a lot. Amazing how unkind people can be. The constant harassment was a big part of the reason I left.”
“Do you recognize this number?”
“No.”
Jake tapped his finger on the table by the phone. “Do you mind?”
Amber shrugged. “No.”
He picked up the phone and hit redial. The phone rang five times but no one answered, and no voice mail picked up. He set the phone back down on the table between them.
She glanced at the display. “I called it back a couple of times, but no one answered. I even searched it on the Internet, but I couldn’t figure out who owned the number.”
“I’ll search it.”
Amber shook her head. “I thought five years was enough time. People would forget and leave me the hell alone.”
“It was a high-profile crime. And some people never move on.”
Jake sat back and waited as if he had all the time in the world. Georgia had seen him do this before when interviewing a suspect. Patient and easygoing, he rarely raised his voice with an interviewee and had a way of drawing them closer as if they could trust him. Sly as a fox, as her dad used to say.
The waitress, a brunette with a petite, full build, arrived with their order, setting a big pile of pancakes in front of Amber and the bagel in front of Georgia. She smiled at Jake as she reached for a coffeepot and warmed up his cup. “I’m sure I can get you something, hon.”
Jake grinned. “Thanks, but I’ve got to watch my weight or I’m gonna lose my boyish figure.”
The waitress laughed, her cheeks blushing as she tucked a curl behind her ear. Did the man enchant every woman? “Baby, you look just fine to me.”
He winked. “You’re a doll.”
“You call me if you need anything, you hear? The name’s Tammy.”
Jake sipped his coffee, winking. “Sure will, Tammy.”
Irritated, Georgia kept her gaze on her plate.
“Do you have any memories of anyone else in the woods?” Jake asked. “Was someone watching you? Following you?”
“I don’t remember seeing or hearing anyone that day or any of the days I remember before the park. And before you ask, there was nothing that caught my attention, that struck me as odd in the weeks leading up to the trip.”
“You know my questions before I ask ’em,” Jake said.
She traced the edges of her fork handle. “I was interviewed by so many cops after all this happened, I feel as if I can almost guess your next question.”
Jake’s grin didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We can be a bit on the predictable side.”
She shook her head, cutting into the pancake with the side of her fork and raising it. “I didn’t mean that as an insult. It’s just that there’s a pattern of thought. After a while, I began to anticipate what was next.”
“Have you been back to the park since that day you were found in the woods?” Jake asked.
She hesitated, and set the fork back down on the plate. “I went back with the cops a couple of times but never alone.”
“Would you consider going back now? Ms. Morgan and I would come along.”
Amber tapped an unpolished nail against the side of her coffee cup. “Yeah, I’d go back. I don’t
think it’ll help much. But sure, I’ll give it a try.”
“When do you want to go?” Jake asked.
“I can go now. All I need to do is hit the restroom.”
Jake sipped his coffee. “There’s no rush. Tell me about how it was attending St. Vincent.”
A small shift in posture suggested resentment. “It was a school for rich kids. I never fit in and it didn’t help that I could kick their butts academically.”
“Kids can be shitty,” Jake said.
“They were,” Amber said, grinning. “Weren’t you a little shitty as a kid?”
Jake grinned. “I was an altar boy. A regular saint.”
Georgia bit into her bagel, refusing to take the bait in front of Amber. “I could see that.”
“I bet you can,” he said. His phone buzzed and he glanced at the display. “How did you afford a school like St. Vincent? Pretty pricy.”
“Scholarship. The guidance counselor at my middle school found it and told me. I didn’t really care, but she knew it was a good thing for me. She always believed in me.”
“Your grades were average,” Jake said.
“I had a great opportunity, but didn’t have the sense to see it. It was foolish.”
“How so?”
“Kids from my world don’t get lucky breaks like I got.”
Jake’s phone buzzed again and he glanced down at the display, frowning. “Ladies, finish up while I take this call from my boss.”
When Jake left, Amber loaded her fork with pancakes. “He’s homicide, I’m assuming?”
“Correct. And his boss, Deke Morgan, is head of the Nashville Homicide Department, and also my brother. He’s the one that gave me the go-ahead to look into this case.”
“You’re lucky to have a brother. I always wanted one.” After Amber swallowed her bite, she cut another slice. “Deke must be an older brother?”
“Older by ten years.”
“How many Morgans are there?”
“Four. Three boys and me.”
Amber shrugged as if shooing away something that bothered her. “I was an only child. I always wondered what it would be like to have a brother.”
Georgia glanced out the diner window to see Jake standing on the sidewalk, phone to his ear. His broad shoulders filled an expertly tailored suit jacket that tapered to a narrow waist. He paced as he talked.
“You and Detective Bishop are friends?” Amber asked.
Georgia realized she’d been caught staring. “Not exactly friends. But he’s a great cop.”
Amber’s gaze searched. “You don’t like it when other women flirt with him.”
Georgia stiffened. “Why do you say that?”
“You tense. It’s very slight, but I see it. I guess it’s something all women notice about each other.”
“You’ve read me all wrong. There’s nothing between us.”
Amber smiled. “But he wants something more. I saw it when he looked at you.”
“I doubt it.”
Jake returned to the diner, his expression dark. “Amber, Georgia and I need to respond to a crime scene. Can you find your way home?”
“Sure. I’ll be fine.”
He tossed twenty bucks on the table. “Take your time and enjoy your meal. We’ll be back with you soon.”
“Yeah, sure. Okay.”
Georgia collected her backpack and followed Jake outside. “What’s that about?”
“A hiker and his dog found a body at Percy Warner Park. Likely a young girl placed in a cave.”
A chill rolled over Georgia’s skin. “Is there an identification yet?”
He opened her car door. “No. But the uniforms on the scene want us there ASAP.”
She slid into the car, glanced back at the diner and found Amber in her booth nodding to them with a slight smile. As Jake settled behind the wheel, she asked, “What do you think about Amber?”
“Jury’s still out.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Tuesday, October 3, 10:00 A.M.
A dozen marked police cars with lights flashing and a forensic van greeted Jake and Georgia when they arrived at the park.
The entrance to the northern path was blocked with yellow crime scene tape and a uniformed officer stood guard. Jake extended his hand. “How’s it going, Randy?”
Randy was mid-sized with a thick chest and muscled arms. “Right now, not much to say. Guy and his dog found a body and called us. Forensic techs just got here and until the body is processed there isn’t much to report.”
“How far up the trail?” Jake asked.
“About a half mile. Fairly easy hiking.”
Georgia glanced toward the forensic van, half tempted to jump in. “Is Brad Holcombe here?”
“Yeah,” Randy said. “He’s about twenty minutes ahead of you.”
Brad Holcombe worked the Forensic Department with Georgia and had joined the team about five years ago. In his early thirties, he was tall, trim, and sported a mop of blond hair. She considered him one of the best in the field and he was as meticulous as she. “Great.”
Randy held up the tape and the two ducked under it and headed up the trail. The morning remained crisp, but bright skies suggested the sun would warm the air to another unseasonably warm day. Early into October, it was always a mixed bag with weather more often turning warm as cold. By November, it would stay colder but, for now, bright days like this remained possible.
She thought back to the last few days’ temperatures, and her mind immediately turned to accelerated decomposition rates. Whatever they were going to find would not be pretty.
* * *
Jake recognized the smell of human death the instant they rounded the corner and came upon the collection of cops. The stench, in his mind, was dense, wet, and sickeningly sweet. It always tightened his belly and sent his muscles bracing. Oddly, most of the bodies he dealt with in homicide were fresh. There were lots of nasty things to experience around the murdered victim, but usually not the smell.
“Damn.”
Georgia moved past him to Brad. “What do you have?”
“I’ve only shined a light into the cave, but I can see the body of a dead woman.”
Jake moved forward and studied the narrow opening. “Brad, can I borrow your light?”
“Sure.”
Jake clicked on the light and shined it in the cave. Putrid air wafted out of the opening and smacked his senses. The smell, simply the breakdown of chemicals in the body, told him death had occurred at least twenty-four hours to ninety-six hours ago. He would become accustomed to the smell, but his clothes would reek and his dry cleaner would cuss and charge him double.
The light bounced off the low-lying rock ceiling down onto the outline of a body. No missing it was a dead woman. By the looks, she’d been young.
Georgia switched on her own light and crouched close. Her shoulder brushed his and he caught the faint scent of soap clinging to her skin. This would be the last nice smell for hours. “Are you aware of any missing women?”
He nodded. There was a BOLO—a Be On The Lookout—that had come across his desk late last night. “Missing teenager. Brown hair. Nineteen. She’s not been seen for a few days. Roommate reported her missing. Parents were traveling, but are back in town.”
Georgia leaned closer to the opening. “She fits the description.”
Jake rose, handed the light back to Brad and dusted his hands. “Yeah.” He pulled out his phone and pulled up his text messages. “Her name is Elisa Spence. She’s a sophomore in college.” Not every BOLO stuck with him, but when it came to a young person, he never forgot.
“Looks like it’s time for Brad and me to do our thing.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, staring at the narrow opening. “I don’t envy your work.”
She shrugged as if this were a walk in the park. “Are you kidding? I live for this kind of thing.”
* * *
With a camera dangling from her neck, Georgia and Brad stood at the entran
ce of the cave. While she snapped pictures, Brad sketched the scene, marking distances and the general layout. Detail at this stage of the game was critical. Both knew very well that one day they could be sitting in a courtroom justifying every iota to the judge, jury, and attorneys.
Rick, Georgia’s older brother and Jake’s partner, had also arrived on the scene. Rick had come up through the canine unit and he and his canine, Tracker, had had an impressive record. The two had been on a routine traffic stop when the car’s driver had fired on Rick, hitting him in the hip. As the driver approached Rick with gun drawn, Rick was able to press the door release button on his vehicle, freeing Tracker. The dog lunged at the driver as the second shot was fired. The canine was hit, but the shooter was startled, giving Rick enough time to fire the kill shot. Both Rick and Tracker had recovered, but neither was certified to return to patrol duty. Rick transferred to homicide and Tracker ended up with Rick’s new wife, Jenna.
After Georgia snapped over fifty pictures of the area, she signaled uniformed officers to remove the stones still blocking the cave’s entrance. Slowly, the jagged entrance grew wider and wider, sending waves of death rolling out of the darkness like a black thundercloud.
Moving closer, Georgia took more pictures of the cave entrance, the flash offering quick glimpses into the darkness. Each burst of light illuminated the body, which she now knew lay on its back, hands positioned neatly over her heart. She was fully dressed but her blouse, though it had been straightened, appeared torn at the sleeve and the collar.
She heard the rumble of rocks sliding down the hill and turned to see Jake and Rick. Both men’s expressions were dark.
Jake had removed his jacket and tie and had rolled up his sleeves. “Looks like you’re about to go into the cave.”
When he was all business, she could deal with him. She even liked him. They talked about decomposition rates, blood splatter, and stippling. No innuendo. No messing around. Safe. “I’m headed in now.”
She held up her camera so the detective could see the crime scene images on her viewfinder. “As you can see, the body is positioned in the middle of the cave. She’s fully dressed with the face covered. The cave is about seven feet deep and four feet high. Doesn’t appear to be any other access to the cave, but I won’t know until I get inside.”