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The detective knew I’d taken her invitation, but they couldn’t figure out how the killer had known it had been switched. Maybe I was making something out of nothing. The police certainly hadn’t been interested in listening to any of my theories. I was just a dumb model.
After rinsing my mouth, I jerked to face the shower, starting the water, waiting until it got up to temperature before ripping off the nightgown. Maybe being back home in a city far removed from the jaded attitudes and constant criticism was exactly what I needed.
While I wanted nothing more than to soothe my aching muscles, remaining in the glorious steam for a full hour or more, putting off the inevitable wasn’t in my best interest. After dressing, I applied a little makeup, wrinkling my nose, grateful for foundation being able to cover the ugly darkness. How much longer could I hide behind a fake smile and dull eyes? I certainly couldn’t get in front of a camera looking like this. What the hell was I going to do?
I wouldn’t feel safe until the monster had been tracked down and locked away. A cold shiver trickled down my spine as I thought about how difficult it would be to go through a trial. That was if the bastard was caught. There’d been no traces of his DNA found. That was the single thing I’d learned before leaving town.
Hearing the sharp knock on the bedroom door meant hiding from the truth was going to be even more difficult. My father wouldn’t let it go. I knew him far too well. He was as tenacious as a bulldog.
I grabbed my ponytail holder, yanking my long hair through it as I returned to the bedroom. As soon as I opened the door, I sensed something was terribly wrong by the expression my father’s housekeeper wore.
“I’m sorry, Miss Baxter, but your father asked me to come get you. He needs to see you in his office.”
“Tell him I’ll be down in a few minutes, Janie.” How much longer could I keep pretending?
She shook her head, glancing nervously over her shoulder. “He insists you head to his office right now.”
My father had never been one for patience. Exhaling, I nodded. “Thanks, Janie.” I glanced back into my room, longing for the days when the only nightmares were in my imagination, not stalking the streets.
I brushed my hands down my shorts, hoping my dad’s lady friend was long gone. If I knew him, she already was. There were no signs she was living with him. While I hadn’t talked to my father in months, almost a year, he’d certainly tell me if he’d become seriously involved with someone. Wouldn’t he?
The door to his office was partially closed and I hesitated before rapping on it.
“Come.” His voice was deeper than the night before, huskier as if he’d also had a fitful night. When I walked in, the sight of him standing by the window, staring out at his perfectly manicured backyard was enough to make me tremble. I knew my father’s moods better than most, the suave, nothing-bothered-him attitude he tried to present to his employees a direct contrast to who he really was.
A brutal, unforgiving man.
When he was in a pissy mood, everyone knew it.
Dressed in his usual linen slacks, I was surprised he wasn’t already nestled inside a confining suit jacket. The fact he had his sleeves rolled up meant he’d been handling business for several hours, likely not going into the office.
“You wanted to see me, Daddy?”
He said nothing for a full minute, which was unnerving. When he turned around, his jaw was clenched. The shock of seeing me standing on his doorstep at ten at night had quickly been replaced with a hard, tense expression.
Then he nodded to the Keurig machine, telling me in no uncertain terms to make myself a cup of coffee. I knew better than to argue with him, although I wasn’t certain my nauseous stomach could handle the acid. I did what he wanted, cognizant he was watching me closely.
“I realize I haven’t always been there for you, Delaney, and I can’t blame your mother entirely.” My father’s voice was strained.
“It’s okay, Dad. Mother didn’t make it easy.” I poured in a little cream, hopeful the coffee would calm my nerves.
“Sit down.” He pointed toward the seat opposite his desk, not bothering to look in my direction. It wasn’t a request but a command.
A mug in my trembling hand, I did as he asked, sitting stiffly.
“Your mother had her reasons for leaving, Delaney. I wasn’t easy to live with. She believed she was doing the right thing removing you from my life.” He moved to the other side of his desk, easing down on the edge and peering down at me. One thing I did remember was that he’d always liked this vantage point, peering down at whatever employee had been called to his office like a bad child.
I was more nervous than ever.
“You don’t need to share with me what happened in your marriage. I’m a big girl. I can handle the fact you got divorced.”
He rubbed his jaw and reached behind him, picking up a file folder. Then he opened it in such a way I couldn’t tell what he was looking at. “Apparently, I do. You arrived at my house fifteen hundred miles away unannounced, acting as if I shouldn’t be surprised to see you. You said almost nothing other than that you were headed to your old room and that you’d be staying for a while. Now, that would ordinarily not seem strange to me if it hadn’t been years since I’d last seen you.”
“Only a couple.”
“Five years since I ran into you at an airport, Delaney. By then you were making your own decisions, your modeling career taking off, which I’d heard nothing about up to that point. Thelast time you were in my house you were seventeen, a short trip allowed by your mother. I think you were actually in New Orleans for thirty-six hours.”
“I had a call back with the modeling agency. I told you that.”
