“He asks about you every day.”

“He can ask all he wants, he’d just better not show his face in my presence.”

He blinked. “Sarah, that’s not like you.”

She flinched and memories better left buried flooded back. Caden must have read every one of them. He gripped her fingers. “That was a long time ago, Sarah. You’re not that rebellious high schooler anymore. You’ve moved on from that.”

“I thought I had,” she whispered. “But old feelings are being fueled. Old behaviors are wanting to rear their ugly heads. How could he do this to me?”

“Do what? I know you two have your differences, but you’re on a whole other level right now. It’s almost like you hate him.”

Hate? That was a pretty strong word. And emotion. Did she hate her father? Not sure she wanted to explore that question, she waved a hand. “Sit back and let me fill you in, because I’m going to need your support if this goes to court.”

By the time she finished, Caden’s face had paled. Fury and pain flashed in his eyes and he shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

“I’ve used that word a time or two.”

“Wow. I can see why you’re so upset.” He paused. Looked at his hands, then back at her. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but he really does want the best for you. He just doesn’t go about it the right way.”

Sarah bit her lip on the retort she wanted to fling and simply said, “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Let’s go back to the topic of Dustin’s place. I want to go with you. Promise me you’ll wait until I can go.”

“Sarah . . .” He sighed. “Yeah, sure. We’ll do it together.”

“Thank you.” She paused. “What if his death wasn’t a suicide?”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged and met his gaze once more. “From all you say, it doesn’t sound like he was depressed. You looked at his records and there’s nothing about bipolar or any other mental illness in there. So . . .”

“So?”

“So, what if someone killed him and set it up to look like a suicide?”

“But . . . why?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he was involved in something he shouldn’t have been? Who knows?”

“Don’t hate me for saying this, but I think—sometimes—you look for a story where none exists.”

“You just said you don’t understand it, that Dustin seemed happy and upbeat and—”

“And there’s security footage of him jumping, Sarah. No one pushed him. He walked to the edge of the roof . . . and jumped. It was suicide.”

She rubbed her eyes. “Then—”

The doorbell rang and Caden jumped like he’d been shot. “Good grief. Let me see who that is.”

“Sure.”