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“No. I want to know what happened.” She sat on the edge of her chair and leaned forward. “Please, tell me every detail.”

This could end up being a long night.

* * *

Trinity triedlike hell not to squeeze the wine glass so hard that she broke it. She stared at Emmett, focusing on his kind, blue eyes. They were like big pools of water, welcoming her to go swimming in them. If she could, she’d dive in.

Emmett seemed like the kind of man who cast a safety net wherever he went.

Her phone buzzed in her back pocket. Kathy had been texting and calling all day, driving Trinity crazy. Sometimes, her friend could be overbearing. She’d deal with her later.

“I’m not sure where to begin.” Emmett took a sip of his wine.

Neither did Trinity, but words bubbled to her lips. “Did my father seek you out? Was it a chance meeting?” Her mind spun with a million questions, and she couldn’t compartmentalize a single thing. It was like she was sixteen all over again and had just found out that her birth father hadn’t died but that he was a murderer.

Her life had been turned upside down in a flash.

Two years of therapy and a lot of anger management classes to get her life back on track, but she’d somehow managed to accept that her parents had done what most would have if they’d been in the same boat.

“I believe he saw my police car in the parking lot of the diner and came inside. But I don’t know that for sure because he was nervous when he made eye contact with me.”

“What did he do next?” Trinity took a long, slow sip of her beverage. A few boats drifted by as they returned from the ocean. The sun settled behind the bridge, and the moon appeared in the evening sky. Her heart pounded in her chest. It had been years since she’d talked with anyone who had come into direct contact with her dad.

Guilt filled her soul.

She shouldn’t have given up the search.

“He asked if I would give you a message and the envelope.” Emmett sat up, swinging his legs to the side. “Have the FBI or the state police contacted you about what I gave them?”

“No.”

“There was a note for you inside. I have a copy of it, but it belongs to you. They should have reached out to you already. If nothing more than to follow up. Hang on a second.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out his cell. He tapped on the screen and hit the speaker function.

It rang three times before someone answered.

“This is Agent Robash.”

“This is Lieutenant Emmett Kirby with the Lighthouse Cove Police Department. I was wondering if you’d been able to reach Trinity Hughes yet.” He lifted his finger to his lips.

“Actually, we have,” Robash said. “The family has been notified. I’ll be making a statement in the morning.”

Trinity opened her mouth, but Emmett reached out and covered it with his hand.

“I’m sorry. You spoke to Trinity?”

“Lieutenant Kirby, we appreciate your due diligence in this, but I have other things that need my attention. Thank you.” The phone went dead.

“What the fuck?” Trinity jumped to her feet. Wine sloshed out of the glass and onto her white shirt, but she didn’t care. She set it on the small table and patted down her pants pockets, finding her phone. “Nothing. Not a single message.” She found the last text string with her parents and quickly typed a note to them, asking if they’d heard anything. “Why would that agent lie?”

“I don’t know, but I plan to find out.” He took her by the forearms. “Hey. I’m going to get to the bottom of this, don’t worry.”

“Is that federal agent still in town?”

“She works out of Fort Lauderdale, but that’s only an hour south of here. I’ll contact her in the morning. If she doesn’t respond, I’ll go over her head. If that doesn’t work, there are other ways to get information from the feds. Trust me.”

“Why should I?” Trinity asked.

“Because I’m here and I made a promise to your father before he was killed.”

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