“Go. With his grandfather selling the track, Drew might not be around quite so often. Better seize the moment, as they say.” His hopeless matchmaking wasn’t obvious, was it? She had responsibilities here. “Oh, by the way, honey.” He reached back across his desk and picked up a pink slip of paper. “I took a phone message for you. From a Daniel Rutledge?”
Dan Rutledge? As in Nick’s friend from the state attorney general’s office Dan Rutledge? The man whom Nick had been going to see that awful night? Alex snatched the memo from her father’s hand, her fingers trembling. “Thanks.”
“He a friend of yours?” her father asked, no doubt hoping for news of a decent man in her life.
“I’ve never met him.” Technically, that wasn’t a lie. She only knew Daniel Rutledge through Nick’s notes and a series of phone messages and e-mail inquiries she’d asked him to return. Alex stuffed the note into her pocket. “I guess I’ll have to call him to see who he is and find out what he wants.”
She couldn’t reassure her father with a better answer than that? Especially with a mixture of excitement and fear that was no doubt stamped all over her face. Did Rutledge have suspicions about Nick’s death, too? Answers for her? Alex lowered her head, feeling her cheeks steam with her lousy cover-up.
Fortunately, her father was perplexed enough by the mystery to miss her reaction. “The name’s familiar. Wasn’t he a friend of Nick’s back in school? Did you ever know him, Drew?”
Drew shook his head. “Must be from law school. Nick and I lost touch for a couple of years when Grandfather sent me off to Princeton to finish my education.”
“I hope he wasn’t looking for Nick.” George sank back onto the corner of the desk. “Maybe he doesn’t know about the accident, and he was trying to reach him. Oh, hell. Somebody else I didn’t tell.”
“Daddy?” Alex reached out, but he was already drifting away from her, shrinking back into the distant shadow of the man he’d been before grief had ravaged him. “I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.”
George Morgan barely nodded. Tears burned behind Alex’s eyelids. Some son of a bitch was going to pay for what they’d done to this man. “Daddy?”
A long arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her into the hallway. “Let’s give him his privacy.” Drew closed the door softly behind them and turned her against his chest for a hug, pressing her nose into the scent of designer cologne at the open collar of his shirt. “He’ll be all right, Alex. Give him some space.”
When she felt his lips brushing against her temple, she pushed away. “No. I want to fix this.”
“You can’t.”
“Watch me.”
“Alex.” His familiar, indulgent smile stopped her from retreating across the hall into her own office. “I miss Nick, too. I thought he and I would be a team forever. You can’t make your father’s hurt go away for him. You have to let him grieve.”
“In my head, I know you’re right. But…” Drew Fisk was no fantasy knight in shining armor. But he was a friend, and he drove a fast car. And right now, Alex needed some speed to drown out the frustrations roiling inside her. She mustered up an answering smile. “Maybe I could use a little fresh air, after all. Give me a few minutes to find Tater to tell him I’m leaving. Start your engine, Drew. I’ll be right there.”
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