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THIRTY-EIGHT
The rest of the workday went far too fast considering what Amanda had ahead of her. She and Trent were able to confirm the details for Chloe Somner’s funeral. Four o’clock tomorrow afternoon at a church in Woodbridge. Briggs still hadn’t made progress on who was behind the spoofed SMS texts to Chloe and Jayne. But he had uncovered deleted texts on Jayne’s phone that indicated she had started seeing Josh romantically in the last week. So whoever the killer was, they must have been aware of Josh and Jayne’s shifting relationship to know their text to meet would work. But still, they were no further ahead on suspects. The subpoena on the credit card used to order the ride from the car service was approved and put through to the credit card company. More waiting.
The associate dean at the university sent a list of students and faculty who said they were on campus during the hours of three and seven Thursday morning, and there were only a handful. Officers had interviewed several students, and no one saw or heard anything. The camera feed was sent over from the school too. It showed nothing useful at first glance. But sometimes things clicked from a fresh perspective or with another take.
It didn’t help that Amanda was preoccupied with the meeting at the agency. She wanted to be as honest with Zoe as she could, but she didn’t think it was a good idea to come out with the fact this man was her biological father. That was unnecessary and would only be confusing. As far as Zoe was concerned, she’d seen her father murdered in front of her eyes. And he was the man who had cared for her and raised her to that point—a father in the most important sense. Would Zoe even have much understanding of what a biological parent was? Amanda spoke with Deb, and they decided the best route was to explain the man to Zoe as being someone who’d been a friend of her mother’s. Honest, safe, neutral. For now.
The adoption services building really wasn’t much to look at. A dull, redbrick, single-story structure that made Amanda think of a retirement community.
She parked her Honda Civic and turned to Zoe. “You don’t have to talk to him for long. Just meet him. Be nice.” A silly thing to say as the girl was kind to everyone.
“I will. But I don’t understand.”
“Like I told you… He was a friend of your mother’s.”
“But why does he want to meet me?” Her face scrunched up.
“You’re kidding me, right? Who wouldn’t want to meet you?” Amanda grinned. “Just do it for me. Okay? Five minutes?” Now I’m petitioning for the guy?
“Okay.” Zoe got out, Lucky clutched under an arm.
Amanda followed and locked the car.
The receptionist sent them right to a conference room where Deb Hibbert was seated next to a forty-something man in a pressed suit. He wore an overpowering cologne that sent Amanda into a brief sneezing fit.
“Oh, here.” Deb plucked a tissue from a box and gave it to her.
“Thanks.” She took her hand from Zoe, who resisted letting go at first.
Zoe was staring at the man, drawing Amanda’s eyes back to him. Stuffy could be a good word to sum up the first impression. Back ramrod straight, like he’d been sitting against a ruler his entire life. His black power suit held a fine sheen inherent to expensive fabric and was tailored perfectly to his frame. He paired it with a plain, white, collared shirt and black tie. There wasn’t a single wrinkle in sight. His shoes were black and glossy and picked up the light from the overhead fluorescents.
“Amanda Steele, this is Colin Brewster,” Deb said.
She held out a hand to him, which he shook. His grip was firm, but the hold brief. When he finished, he wiped his hand on a tissue.
How is this guy ever going to have a kid? But maybe she was being rash and jumping to conclusions too quickly. He wasn’t the enemy… Only he was. Or could be.
“And this, of course, is Zoe Parker.” Deb added a large grin to that introduction.
The man peeled his eyes from Amanda to land his gaze on Zoe. She had tucked herself behind Amanda’s leg, and Amanda put a hand on the girl’s shoulder. Colin didn’t budge from his chair. He just kept looking at her, studying her, as if she were a specimen in a jar.
“You flew in and called for this meeting,” Amanda began. “I’m thinking you have something you want to say to her.” Honestly, his behavior was pissing her off. This man came for what purpose? Just to upset things, confuse Zoe? To appease his conscience? To satisfy some curiosity he had about the child?
Deb jumped in with, “Anyone care for water or a coffee? Zoe, can I get you an orange juice?”
“Apple,” both Amanda and Zoe said at the same time.
“She prefers apple,” Amanda clarified and pinched Zoe’s nose. Zoe giggled. Even through all of this, Colin’s expression was devoid of emotion, and he just kept staring at Zoe. “I’ll take a coffee,” Amanda added, and Deb left the room.
The tension in the space was tangible and awkward. Amanda felt the need to make things better—for Zoe’s sake. The girl was looking up at Amanda. “Honey, why don’t you sit over there and draw?” She nudged her head toward a small table, where blank paper and coloring books were located along with a glass container of crayons.
“Okay.” Zoe ambled over, not looking too impressed by the idea but complying nonetheless.
“And I brought these.” Amanda pulled a small sandwich bag full of apple fries and a piece of cheese from her pocket.
“Oh.” Zoe happily snatched them up.
Once the girl was situated, Amanda sat in a chair facing Colin, and she crossed her legs. They made uncomfortable eye contact just as Deb returned. She handed Amanda her coffee and took the juice over to Zoe.
“Thank you,” Zoe said.
“You wanted to meet her. She’s here, but you’re somewhere else,” Amanda said.
He shook his head. “It’s just a lot to take in.” He tossed out what could be considered the beginning of a smile, but the expression didn’t fully form.
Stuffy and socially inept.
Deb’s attention went to Zoe at the table. “Zoe, Colin was a friend of your mother’s. He came a long way to see you.”
Zoe didn’t say anything but continued crunching on her apple.
“Her eyes look so much like Angela’s. It’s almost like I’m seeing her again.” Colin was apparently in his own world—or planet, from the sounds of it. Did he not take any of this seriously? And to think Amanda was stuck here while Chloe and Jayne’s killer roamed free.
“Colin was telling me that he has a beautiful house in California,” Deb said, as if attempting to smooth out a path for conversation.
“I make good money as an investment banker,” Colin added stiffly. He even tugged on his jacket, and Amanda thought of a peacock ruffling its feathers to present a show.
She wasn’t impressed. And it would take a lot more than some rigid banker from LA, or wherever he was from in California, to do so. In her career, she’d done a lot of sizing people up—one could say it was a mainstay of the job—and in her opinion, Colin Brewster wasn’t father material, let alone single father material. “Did your wife not join you for this trip?” She didn’t know his life situation, and her question might be insensitive, but she wanted to get more of a feel for him.
“I’m not married.”
“Oh. So you’d be…” Amanda glanced at Zoe, realizing she couldn’t finish that sentence as intended. Something along the lines of raising Zoe alone.
“Yes. Well, I am engaged to be married.”
Drying paint could be bored by this guy.
