Vulnerable (Morgans of Nashville) (6 page)

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.”

 

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 entrance 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.”

“As soon as we can make an identification,” Rick said, “we need to notify her parents.”

“Sure. I’ll move as quickly as I can,” she said.

She set her camera aside and donned a Tyvek suit as well as a small headlight, which she snapped on. Without another word, she crouched and began crawling into the cave.

Her heart beat a little faster and beads of sweat formed on her face. She never relaxed in tight spaces. A stupid kind of fear. She was perfectly safe but her body always recoiled when the job required her to squirm into a tiny space. She’d been under the crawl spaces of homes, in small basement rooms, and low attic spaces. She should have been used to this kind of thing after a decade on the job. But she never made peace with it.

She moved forward, her shoulders stooped and she turned toward the entrance. “Brad, I need my camera.”

“Right here,” he said handing it to her.

The body was bloated with decomposition gasses and in several places the victim’s skin had split, allowing bodily fluids to puddle around her body. This close, she could see the white button-down had subtle blue stripes. The right sleeve was ripped and the arm bloodied, suggesting the injury happened before she died. Her skirt was khaki and her shoes, or rather shoe, was a blue loafer. The shoe on her right foot was missing, revealing small white toes painted a vivid purple that matched the color of her fingernails. The funky color didn’t quite jibe with the overall preppy look, and Georgia wondered if the girl had harbored a risky side that might very well have gotten her killed. Her right and left hands where crossed over her heart and her face was turned to the side.

She snapped more images and then allowed her gaze to skim the girl’s face. Death and time had ravaged what must have been a full and bright face into a very pale, drawn expression. Her lips were slightly apart.

Snap. Snap. Snap
.

The victim wore simple gold earrings and a pearl necklace. Both looked as if they were expensive. Under the necklace, a dark purple band of bruises circled a thin white neck. This girl had been strangled, but it would take the medical examiner to determine if that had been the cause of death. She rose up above the body as much as the jagged low ceiling would allow.

Snap. Snap. Snap
.

Peeking out from the white button-down was a pink, sleek lacy bra, another hint that this girl had harbored secrets.

A class ring encircled the victim’s right pinky and as Georgia leaned in close, she discovered it was a newly minted college ring. So damn young.

Her gaze trailed around the body as she searched for anything that might have belonged to the victim. She noted piles of leaves and rocks and along the rock wall several puddles of wax, remnants of candles burned down to the wick.

On her knees, she passed through something wet and she glanced back to see decomposition fluid on her jumpsuit.

“It just doesn’t get any lovelier than this,” she grumbled. A sharp rock on the cave’s floor cut into her palms and strained the protection of her latex gloves.

Beyond the body, the cave narrowed like the neck of a bottle. She tucked the camera into a pocket of her jumpsuit and crawled past the body toward the narrowing space closed off by a pile of neatly piled rocks. The arrangement was too defined to be natural and was reminiscent of the rocks piled in the primary cave’s entrance.

“How’s it look?” Brad asked.

“Dark. Very, very dark.”

“You okay?”

“I’m doing just swell. You know I live for this.” Her nose itched and she rubbed it with her forearm. As she shifted to the right, she hit her elbow against a jagged rock. Pain shot up her arm and she muttered a curse. Every move had to be deliberate to ensure no evidence was damaged.

The narrow light of her headlamp caught a wink of metal as she stared up at the rocks. When she leaned closer, she realized there was a pendant hanging from a chain dangling from the rocks. She snapped a picture of the pendant and then glanced in her viewfinder and blew up the image. The pendant was engraved with two scripted letters: BR.

Shit. Bethany Reed.

The death scent mingled with the musty wet mossy smells that belonged in caves. She glanced at the ceiling, praying the bats and hairy critters hiding in the darkness would scurry out of her path. Hating the space, she kept her focus on what she did best: cataloging facts.

She photographed the pendant several more times and then the rocks stacked at the back of the cave. As she set the stones aside a second, smaller area appeared. “What the hell is this place?”

Shinning her light into the second space, she could see it narrowed so much that once in she would not be able to turn around. The only way out of here was to back out so if something furry charged, she would have to choke back a godawful scream or suffer the jokes of the cops.

She cleared more rocks so that she could move forward into the second chamber.

Her left hand settled on something hard, brittle and narrow. She dropped her gaze, her headlight catching the object.

It was a bone. Human.

* * *

Jake stood at the cave’s entrance, listening as Georgia burrowed deeper into the darkness. He admired her guts. He was street tough, but this scene put him on edge.

Feet braced, he tapped his index finger against the butt of his gun. “Brad, I don’t hear her moving. What’s going on in there?”

Brad, kneeling at the mouth of the cave, glanced back at Jake as if to caution patience. But when he took a good look at Jake, he silenced his comments and leaned into the mouth of the cave. “Georgia, what’s going on?”

For a moment, she did not answer and the silence fueled Jake’s concern.

“She’s fine,” Brad said. “She’ll holler if she needs help.”

“I understand that.” A blunt tone sharpened the edges of each word.

Rick shifted his stance. “Give her a few more seconds.”

Jake’s lips flattened into a grim line. “Brad. Yell in there again.”

“Georgia!” Brad hollered. “What’s your status?”

Jake was quickly losing patience. He’d give her five more seconds and then he’d head inside. One. Two. Three.

“I’m alive.” Her strong voice echoed out from the depths of the cave. The camera flashed a dozen more times. “It’s a bitch turning around in here. I’m on the way out.”

He freed some of the tension banding his shoulders. “She’s taking a hell of a lot of pictures.”

“She won’t miss anything,” Rick said.

Finally, he saw her booted, muddied feet appear at the entrance. Next, a very nice bottom, also covered in dirt and sludge, a narrow waist, shoulders, and that crop of red hair pulled into a topknot.

She straightened and rolled her shoulders as she turned. She wiped a curl from her face with the back of her hand. “Female, approximately twenty years old. Nicely dressed. My guess is that she was strangled, but that’s the medical examiner’s call. She’s well into the decomposition process and given the cool weather and fifty or sixty degree temperature in the cave, she’s been in there three or four days.”

“You were in there a while,” Jake said.

“I searched around the body. I found three candles burned down into puddles of wax, but nothing else. And I spotted a pile of rocks in the back of the cave. They’re too neatly arranged to be natural so I removed a few. Behind the first chamber there’s a longer, narrower tunnel that cuts deeper into the hill. That’s what took me so long.”