She was here for one simple reason—she’d opened that sealed envelope of crime scene photos Bodine had given her. Everything had changed the moment she’d seen them. She knew she shouldn’t have looked, especially since Bodine had warned her against it, but she’d been digging through the rest of the files full of information on her father’s death early that morning and the plain brown envelope had been lying there, bugging her. So she’d opened it and pulled out the photos.
She knew it wasn’t as much the need to see if there was new evidence in there as it was the curiosity of not knowing. She hated not knowing stuff.
Part of her realized this sudden burst of curiosity probably had something to do with the fact that she didn’t know what was going on with Remy. Last night had been strange. She’d first picked up on the vibe at her mom’s place, during dessert. Remy had been looking at her, not with the interested, hungry expression she’d seen earlier, but almost with a distracted and distant one. She also noticed he hadn’t laughed too much the rest of the evening either.
It had only gotten worse when they’d gone back to his hotel room. Yes, they’d made love, and it had been beautiful and amazing. But afterward, Remy had been tense and hadn’t spoken more than a word or two as she’d fallen asleep on his chest. She was sure she’d done something wrong but had no idea what.
She couldn’t help feeling Remy was pulling away from her all of a sudden. That had confused the hell out of her and left her sitting in her room at her mother’s apartment trying to figure out what had changed. When she couldn’t figure that puzzle out, she’d decided to work on another one instead.
Unfortunately, once she’d spread the photos across the top of the small desk in her bedroom, she’d realized why Bodine hadn’t wanted her to see them. To say they were horrible was an understatement. She’d known her father had been shot multiple times, but she hadn’t been ready to see the amount of damage.
She worked in an ME’s office, so she’d seen horrible things before and had dealt with them. She told herself she’d be able to look at them in a detached manner, maybe see a clue the police and Bodine had missed. She could treat it like another case at work.
But this wasn’t another case. This was her father, and it was different.
Tears in her eyes, she’d shoved the photos back in the envelope, never wanting to think of her father that way again, but it was too late. What she’d seen couldn’t be unseen. She’d never forget what those men had done to her father.
She was glad her mother had been out shopping at the time because she’d cried for a long time after that. Later, the pain and tears had turned to anger, and she’d started seething. That was when she’d vowed she would catch the people who had murdered her father. Suddenly, she didn’t want them in prison any longer; she wanted them dead. It was a horrible thing to think, but it was there, and she couldn’t act like it wasn’t.
That was also about the time Bodine had called and told her he’d spent the night talking with a guy who’d heard someone bragging about killing a “mean old man in a jazz club and putting a bullet right in his head.” The man told Bodine it had been a while ago, but he still remembered the braggart clearly because the guy had been one big-ass dirtbag.
Bodine had a good description and was going to start nosing around for the guy. “A big blowhard like him shouldn’t be too difficult to find. If he’s bragged about it once right out in the open in a bar, there’s a good chance he’s done it other times.”
That had seemed like a reasonable plan, but with thoughts of her father’s violent murder still fresh in her mind, Triana said she wanted to meet the guy and talk to him personally. Bodine hadn’t been thrilled with the idea, but she’d insisted, pointing out she was the one paying the bills.
Triana glanced at her watch again, then sighed.
“What’s going on with you and Zane?” she asked Kim, hoping to distract herself from thoughts of how crazy it had been to come to a place like this to talk to a man who obviously hung out in bars with murderers. Kim could probably use the distraction too.
Kim smiled. “Nothing much. We mostly hang out and talk. He’s easy to talk to, and I have to admit, I could listen to that sexy accent of his all day.”
Triana considered asking exactly what her friend meant by mostly but then reconsidered. It was obvious that Kim was more relaxed than she’d been since Shawn the Jerk had left her. If Zane was responsible for that, she was fine with it, regardless of what they did or didn’t do when they were together. Triana was just happy to see a smile on her friend’s face again.
“Zane’s figured out I’m not really in a relationship place right now, that I’m rebounding and just need a way to get my frustrations out,” Kim continued. “We make out a little, but nothing serious. I don’t think it would be fair to Zane. He’s too amazing to jerk around. Besides, I’m still in love with Shawn, even if he isn’t in the picture anymore.”
Triana tried to read between the lines of those last few sentences, still not sure if Kim and Zane were sleeping together, but something told her they weren’t.
“How about you and Remy?” Kim asked. “Did you take my advice and use this week as a chance to make up for all that time you wasted back in high school?”
Triana smiled.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Kim said. “So, are you guys going to be doing the long-distance-relationship thing then?”
Triana’s smiled faded at that. Before last night, she would have said the two of them were definitely heading in that direction, but now, she didn’t think so. The ache in her chest hurt so much she could barely breathe. It was her own fault. She’d let things get a little out of control, started feeling things for Remy way too fast.
“What’s wrong?” Kim asked.
“Nothing.” Triana pasted on a fake smile. “We’ve had a lot of fun this week, but I don’t think there’s a future between Remy and me.”
Kim’s eyes widened, but before she could say anything, movement near their table interrupted her. Triana lifted her head to see a skinny, gray-haired man standing there. The way he looked at her made her think he wasn’t all there, and Triana was doubly glad she’d asked Kim to come with here. Even though she had no idea what Kim would do to help in a scary situation involving this man.
“Are you Triana?” he asked in a rough voice.
Triana nodded, sure he must be the guy she was there to meet. He certainly fit the part of a man who spent a large part of his life in a bar. His voice had that distinctive throaty rasp she imagined came from a lifetime of living off booze and cigarettes.
“That’s me,” she said. “Are you the person Marcus Bodine told me about?”
The guy nodded but didn’t sit. Instead, he looked back and forth between her and Kim. “Marcus said you’d be here alone.”
