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Chapter Nineteen
Friday night. They hadn’t accomplished much during the day, though Amber’s mother’s house was now spotless. If they could sober the woman up, maybe she’d get on with her life.
Amber didn’t hold out much hope for that. She did say she wanted to get her mother some help, though, so Harper had arranged a visit to a mental health and substance abuse facility. Amber was convinced her mother was mentally ill.
Amber was back at the hotel now, while Harper and Blake sat out back of Rachel’s in a rental car watching the employees’ entrance. Amber claimed the night she’d blacked out had been a Friday. It was a long shot, but maybe Marta and whoever else was involved might try the same thing tonight.
Blake sat in the passenger seat, snoring. Harper checked his watch. Three a.m. The club closed at two thirty. So far, only two girls had emerged from the building.
Blake let out a snort. Harper rolled his eyes. Blake wasn’t such a bad guy, but Harper would never forgive him for what he’d done to Amber. He’d turned that poor woman’s life upside down. She hadn’t deserved that, no matter how many mistakes she’d made.
Course, Blake had made his own mistakes. Blackmailing someone to try to cover his own ass was cowardly. Blake had told him he’d apologized to Amber last night. Oddly, Amber hadn’t thrown him out. While she hadn’t been exactly forgiving, she did seem to understand how he’d let things get out of hand. She understood about greed sometimes taking over.
Harper shook his head. He’d never wanted for anything in his life. What must it have been like for Amber, growing up with Karen in that rundown neighborhood? Getting kicked out at sixteen?
And Blake? He knew nothing of Blake’s childhood.
Sometimes, Harper took it all for granted. He tried not to but couldn’t help himself on occasion. What did he know about greed? If he wanted something, he went out and got it. Money was not an issue. If it had been, might he have made some of the choices Blake and Amber had?
The fact that he wasn’t sure gnawed at him. One thing, though, had become clear as day. He hadn’t been fair to Amber.
The door opened and two women emerged. He punched Blake’s arm. “Wake up. A couple are coming out.”
Blake opened his eyes and let out a huge yawn. “Yeah? Where?”
“By the door, genius.”
Nope. Turned out to be nothing. Marta wasn’t there.
“What time is it?” Blake asked.
“Three fifteen.”
“They should all be out by now, shouldn’t they?”
“You’d think. But”—Harper grabbed the steering wheel—“maybe we can’t get them for drugging and photographing the girls. But I bet there’s money exchanging hands in there for sex. I’d bet you anything.”
“You’re probably right, but what exactly can we do about it?”
“We can call the cops.”
Blake let out a chuckle. “Are you kiddin’? The cops must know. This has been going on forever. They probably close their eyes to it.”
Shit. Blake was no doubt right. If only San Antonio had a young, hot-headed detective with a conscience bigger than himself. Harper would look into that tomorrow.
The two women drove away together. Probably roommates, like Amber and Laura had been.
“This isn’t working,” Harper said. “I guess we should just go on back to the hotel and attempt to get a little sleep.”
“Thank God,” Blake said.
Harper turned on the engine. As he prepared to back out, the sliver of light from the doorway caught his eye. Wouldn’t hurt to see what was what. He cut the engine.
“Now what?” Blake said.
“Check it out.”
Out stepped Marta with three girls. They were laughing and walking arm in arm. They ambled to a black minivan and got in.
