Page 55 of Enticing the Fixer

Last night, I lay on my back staring at the ceiling fan blades spinning above my head. The only noise in the room was Leo’s slight snores every few minutes. But instead of finding it annoying, it was reassuring. At 3 o’clock I took a shower and got dressed, giving up the pretense that I was going to get any sleep.

I tilt my head and cross my arms over my chest. “What do you think about my dad’s death?”

“What?” She spins on her heel.

“Who do you think killed him? Do you think it was random or intentional?”

She stands motionlessly with her hands at her sides. “Why do you ask?”

My breath catches in my lungs. “You think there’s more to it also, don’t you?”

She shrugs. “Sean and I have talked about it. He was miles from home.” She raises her hands in defense before I can get a word out. “I know he played poker with his friends, but it was a Friday night. Not a Wednesday night. It seems odd that he was in that neighborhood on a different night after a late evening at a conference. They might switch up the day occasionally, but at midnight? That’s bizarre. Did you talk to them after the accident, or did you assume he was there for a card game because it was easier to swallow than someone intentionally killing your father?”

“No, I didn’t.” I shudder and cross my arms over my chest. Yes, I tossed around the word murder loosely, but in the sense of involuntary manslaughter, not intentionally plotted to murder in the first degree.

Who would do something like that and why? What could they gain from my father’s death? The company came to me, so it’s not like someone else is benefiting financially. Nothing’s changed.

“You should. It’s time to know the truth. If there was no reason for him to be in that area of town. At that time of night. On that night. Something else was going on. Something that no one else is talking about.”

A stabbing sensation shoots through my head. I don’t want to know. What if he was involved in something scandalous? Maybe he was meeting a woman whose husband caught them together. Or he was buying drugs.

Ple-e-ease. I fight the urge to roll my eyes. My dad was a pillar of morality. He wasn’t a homewrecker or a drug user.

Ann marches over to me and grabs my upper arms. “It’s better to know. And you have Sean and me in your corner. We’ll help you deal with whatever comes out.”

“Thank you.” I bite my bottom lip. How did I get so lucky to have these awesome people in my corner? Gah, I’m a hot mess.

“Leo was going to call them, but it should be me. They’re going to say more to me than to a stranger.”

“You discussed this with Leo?”

The tips of my ears heat. “Yes.”

“Wow. Things are getting serious, aren’t they?” Her eyes soften as we take a quick detour into a sweeter topic. At least, I hope so. I don’t want to jinx it and have everything go up in flames. It’s barely been a week.

“Yes, they are. Keith got to him and told him his conspiracy theories.” Goosebumps pop on my arms. “But what if he’s right? What if it wasn’t a drunk driver who left him to die? What if the person intentionally tracked him down in a remote location to kill him?”

Ann steps back and drags a hand through her hair. “You’ve got to find out. Uncle Jack deserves that much.”

“I’ll call Mark.” I trudge two steps toward the desk and stare at the phone.Just do it.I inhale and snatch up the receiver, quickly dialing his number.

“Hello?” Mark Fredrickson’s voice is rough and gravely in my ear.

“Hey, Mark. It’s Jack’s daughter, Kinsley.”

“Oh….” He pauses for a second and then clears his throat. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”

“I’m sorry.” Guilt rolls over me in waves. Mark and my father were best friends since elementary school. My lack of concern for his feelings since my father’s death makes me feel like a bitch. “How’re you doing?”

“I’m a tough old bird, but I miss your dad. He was a great guy. One of the best. I always appreciated that no matter how successful he became, he never forgot us little guys.”

“He never considered you a little guy. He appreciated your friendship as well as the other guys.”

“Thank you, Dear. It pleases me to hear you say that. The poker games haven’t been the same since he’s been gone.”

I rest the receiver between my shoulder and ear. Talking to Mark gives me a small sense of having my father back. Even if it’s just for a few seconds. I’ll never forget those hours sitting in the corner as plumes of smoke swirled above their heads. They’d play for hours, laughing and reminiscing. “Did you have a game that night?”

“No. He had a conference that night.” He pauses as if he’s thinking back. “Wasn’t that a Friday night? We never met on Friday nights.”

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