Vulnerable (Morgans of Nashville) by Mary Burton Page B

“She just bought those a week ago. She said she liked the way they made her feel. I was sure she had a thing for a guy, but she said no.”
    “And you believed her?”
    “Like I said, I never saw a guy around here or with her. My guess is she had a crush on someone and was working out a fantasy.”
    “She do that a lot?”
    “She liked guys. But as I said, she wasn’t exactly the sexy type. I figured it was a phase and whoever she had a secret crush on would pass.”
    “No odd behavior?”
    “No. None. She was a solid science student, but she was young and she didn’t want to feel like a grandma before her time.”
    “So she slipped on the undergarments to make her feel sexy and attractive for some guy who might not even know she existed?”
    She swiped away a tear with the back of her hand. “That would be my guess. And you know, a lot of young girls wear undergarments like that.”
    “What else did she do to make herself feel young and pretty?” Rick asked as he closed the door.
    “She liked to drink and party like any other woman her age. Not a lot, mind you, but once in a while.”
    “What about drugs?” Jake had seen straight-laced kids like Elisa do stupid things to get noticed. All thought they’d take a quick walk on the wild side only to discover that the wild side came with fun and also its share of risk and danger. Crossing the line always had a price.
    “She smoked a little pot but none of the hard stuff. She understood moderation. She wasn’t like an addict or anything. She just had fun once in a while.”
    “You left her in the coffee shop on Friday?” The question came from Rick who stood by a sheer curtained window. He wasn’t looking at her but outside toward the trees and the cars parked on the street.
    “Yeah. She was working on a presentation for this week and wanted to finish polishing it.”
    Jake moved to the small closet. He opened the door and found a collection of conservative skirts, pants, and button-down shirts. Several pairs of worn brown loafers lined the bottom of the closet.
    He pulled on latex gloves. “Mind if I have a look in her closet?”
    She bit her top lip and shivered. “No, go ahead.”
    He pushed aside the clothes and discovered way in the back a sleek black dress. Judging by the length, it would have hit the average woman several inches above the knee. “This hers?”
    “Yes. I have a similar one.”
    “I don’t see shoes to match.”
    “I borrowed them. They’re still in my closet if you want me to get them.”
    “No, that’s okay for now.” He glanced at his near empty notepad. “There was no one that was bothering her? No one that she liked or talked about? No one paying attention in any way.”
    “I mean, she mentioned she saw a cute guy at the coffee shop last week. He said hi. She said hi. But that was the end of it as far as I know.”
    “What’s the name of the coffee shop again?” Jake asked.
    “Blue Note Java. It’s in the West End on Maple Avenue.”
    Jake circled Blue Note Java in his notes. Amber had worked at the café five years ago. He tucked the notebook back in his breast pocket and then pulled out a business card. “If you think of anything else, will you call me?”
    She accepted the card, flicking the edge with her index finger. “Sure. Of course.”
    He felt for Cheryl. She called in a missing person’s report likely thinking her friend would be found alive and well. “Do you mind if we have a look around while we’re here?”
    “No. Take as much time as you need. I’ll be in the living room if you have questions.”
    Jake and Rick nodded as she turned and left the room. Both stood in the center of the girl’s room, canvassing everything. Four days ago, the woman lying dead in that cave had been in this room, full of hopes and dreams. She’d been laughing. Maybe crying. Studying. Alive. And now gone.
    Rick moved toward the desk and opened the center drawer where he found her checkbook, banking statements, pens,