“Okay. No questions about Dallas. But I would like to know if you remember anything else about your attack last night. Sometimes stepping away helps the fog to clear a bit.”
She took a deep breath to calm the anger that had arisen from me bringing up the Dallas incident, then nodded. “I do remember something else. I was going to call you later this morning, actually. I remember a car pulling into that small lot across the park—you know, the one with that mobiledrive-through coffee shop—as I pulled into the park at midnight.”
“Was it following you?”
She blew out a breath, suggesting she’d exhausted the question herself. “I don’t know. I really don’t.”
“Did it turn around, or park?”
“I’m not sure, but I remember thinking it was weird because the coffee shop obviously wasn’t open.”
A tingle started at the bottom of my spine.
“Do you remember what kind of car it was?”
“No. But I remember what it looked like.”
I stilled, as if already knowing what was coming…
“It was a blue, four-door sedan.”
That tingle flew up to my neck. It was the first thing linking Lieutenant Seagrave’s death to Sunny’s attack, verifying my instinct the incidents were connected.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. Trust me. I notice things like that.”
My mind started to race. A blue four-door sedan placed the Black Bandit at both Seagrave’s murder and Sunny’s attack. But I knew that Julian Griggs wasn’t the Bandit because his black truck was parked at the trailhead, and based on my research, the kid did not also own a blue sedan.
“Could it have been Julian Griggs’ car? The pastor’s son?” She asked, sadness washing over her face.
“No. And where’d you hear that name?”
“My father came by this morning.”
Father.Not Dad.
“Interesting man, he is.”
Her eyes rounded in both shock and horror. “You met my father?”
“After I dropped you at your truck, he came to the station looking for you.”
“Oh.” She looked away.
“Why didn’t you call him from the station?”
She shrugged, scratched her head. An uncomfortable tick. Yep, daddy issues for sure.
“Soooo… “ I pressed. “I’m picking up on vibes that you two might not be that close.”
She snorted. “Nice work, Detective.”
I ignored the quip. “Why? Why aren’t you close to your dad?”
“Did you come here to ask me about my father?”
“I’d like to know why the man took the time to shower before coming to his daughter’s aide.”
