Make Me Melt(50)

“This involved more than one person,” Jason said. “Unless they brought a ladder, which there’s no evidence they did, one person couldn’t have reached the electrical service drop without help.

The FBI agents seemed in agreement with his assessment, and they had stepped up security at both the houses and the hospital. They had set up a command post of sorts outside her father’s room, with several laptops and communications systems that allowed them to speak to their teams located outside the hospital.

“The neighbors can’t recall seeing or hearing anything unusual at the house in Santa Cruz,” the first agent said. “They said there was a downpour that evening that drove everyone indoors for about two hours. My guess is that’s when the perps entered the house. They may have even parked their car outside the area, so as not to arouse suspicion.”

“What about the footprint?” Jason asked. “Are you sure it’s a match to the one found at the primary residence?”

“Absolutely,” the second agent said. “The rain actually worked in our favor, since it softened the soil. Again, it’s only a partial print, as if the perp was walking on his or her toes.”

“Her?” Jason’s voice sharpened.

“It’s only a theory,” the first agent said. “We don’t have the complete footprint, so there’s no way of telling the exact size of the shoe, but it looks to be on the small side. So it could be a male with smaller feet or it could be a female.”

Caroline watched as Jason’s face grew thoughtful; then he excused himself and walked over to where she sat. She stood up and drew him over toward the door, out of earshot.

“I heard,” she said. “Why would any woman do this?”

Jason shook his head. “I don’t know. Did your father ever mention a female friend? Someone he was seeing, either romantically or maybe as a friend?”

“No,” she said fervently, keeping her voice low. “To my knowledge, my father lived like a monk after he lost my mother. He never once brought a woman back to the house, and if he ever had a date, I didn’t know about it.”

Jason smiled grimly. “No doubt part of his plan to keep you innocent.”

She gaped at him. “Are you telling me that my father did have relationships?”

He gave her a helpless look. “He’s a man, Caroline. He’s also wealthy and powerful. I’m sure there are a lot of women who find him very attractive. Just because he didn’t bring them home, or tell you about them, doesn’t mean they didn’t exist.”

She felt a little stunned. “But I wanted him to date,” she said. “I used to try to play matchmaker for him, and he’d just laugh and tell me that he was a hopeless cause. He said I was the only girl for him. Eventually, I just gave up, because he seemed so dead set against it.”

“He was only dead set against bringing another woman into your life,” Jason said softly. “He loved your mother very much, and I don’t think he ever wanted to replace those memories. He wanted you to remember her, too.”

Caroline felt tears prick the back of her eyelids. “But I don’t really remember her. I have only vague, hazy memories of her.” She smiled at him. “But they’re all happy memories. Sometimes a song or a particular scent will bring her face into clear focus, but if I try and picture what she looked like, I can’t.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jason said, pulling her into his arms. “I lost my mother when I was very young, too. At least you have those good memories. I couldn’t even tell you what color hair my mother had.”

She pulled back to look at his face. Although she knew his homelife had been difficult, she didn’t know the details, and her father had refused to discuss them with her.

“What happened to her?” she asked.

Jason shrugged. “I don’t know. She left us when I was just a toddler. My father refused to talk about her, and my grandmother would only say she was trash.”

Her heart constricted. “Oh, Jason, I’m sure that isn’t true. Have you ever tried to locate her?”

He nodded. “A couple of times, but I never came up with any leads on her.”

She hugged him hard. “I’m sure she had her reasons for leaving and not bringing you with her.”

“That’s what the counselors told me,” he said. At her questioning look, he sighed. “After I ended up in court, and your father decided I was worth saving, he pulled me out of Hunters Point and sent me to a residential school for troubled youths. Part of the program to rehabilitate me involved meeting with counselors every day.” He gave a huff of laughter. “I was a pretty angry kid, ergo I had a lot of counseling.”

“My father did that?” she asked. Her father had given many kids a second chance, but she hadn’t understood the extent of his generosity. “He sent you to a private school?”

“He did. Your father is the only reason I didn’t end up like Eddie Green, because back then I was doing my best to imitate him.”


“I had no idea,” Caroline admitted. “I mean, I knew that he sometimes took a special interest in juvenile offenders, and did what he could to give them a second chance, but I had no idea he did so much.”

“I’m not saying he did that for every kid,” he said. “But what he did for me changed my life.”