Crash Into Me(80)

He nodded. "Yes, I am. It's nice to meet another person from back home."

I studied his face as I tried to determine his age. The corners of his eyes were wrinkled slightly, but his face was tanned, giving him a glow that made me think he might be in his thirties. His hair had streaks of grey at the temples, leading me to believe he might be older, though.

"Where are you from?" I asked, thinking I picked up a Midwest accent.

"Minnesota. Land of ten thousand lakes."

"That's a lot of lakes," I joked.

"Beautiful country there. Where are you from?" he asked as he studied my face, likely to ascertain the answers I'd sought a minute earlier.

"Pennsylvania. We don't have that many lakes."

The man extended his hand and introduced himself as Derek. I smiled and said, "It's nice to meet you, Derek. I'm Nina."

"I used to know someone from Pennsylvania with a daughter named Nina. His name was Joseph. I met him on assignment years ago."

"Assignment? What did he do?"

"He was an investigative journalist."

"Do you remember his last name?" I asked excitedly, amazed at the idea that I might be talking to someone who'd known my father.

"Edwards. His name was Joseph Edwards."

"Oh, my God! That was my father!"

"He was a good man. Great writer," Derek said in a solemn voice, using the past tense, which told me he knew about my father's death.

"It's so wonderful to hear that. He loved what he did."

"He did. I remember him talking about you too. You were the apple of his eye. His little artist is what he called you, if I remember correctly."

I beamed at Derek's memory, loving that my father had spoken about me like that. "I haven't heard that in so long. I miss hearing him call me that."

Derek's eyes narrowed. "I think it's a shame they never charged the people responsible."

My heart slammed against my chest at Derek's implication. The police had repeatedly told my sister and me that all the leads had gone cold, but it sounded like he was saying someone knew who'd murdered my father. "Do you know anything about that?"

"Ma'am, it's time we got going."

I turned to see Jared ready to do his best escort impression. "I'll be ready in a minute. I'm talking right now."

My shadow looked around and then back at me. "Ma'am, I think he left."

Jared was right. Derek was nowhere in sight. I took off to find him, but it was like he'd vanished. I searched all four floors, but I never found him. As Jared escorted me back to the hotel, the man's claim echoed in my head.

Someone knew who had murdered my father.



I left Jared behind in the lobby and raced up to the room to get my head together. I needed a cool drink and some time to think about what Derek had said. The idea that the people responsible for my father's death still roamed free while he lay cold in the ground tore at me. I'd never believed what the police told us, but without any proof, all I had was my gut feeling that what they knew about the case was only the tip of the iceberg.

Throwing my purse on one of the chairs in the suite's living room, I stripped nude and ran myself a bath in the soaker tub. I poured myself a glass of red wine and slid into the water, wanting so desperately to calm the craziness that was racing around my brain. The wine quickly dulled my senses, as alcohol always did, and I closed my eyes to silence my thoughts.

At last, my brain calmed and all that was left was the feeling of loss that I'd had since the moment I learned that my father had died of a gunshot wound in an abandoned warehouse in Newark. My father and mother for so many years was gone, taken from me in a moment of hate or passion. I didn't know which. As I sat in the warm water there in the hotel suite I shared with Tristan, all I really knew was that my father was murdered and gone forever.