He studied her a moment, then shook his head. “You’ll have to ask him.”
Isla exhaled and momentarily closed her eyes before meeting his gaze. “Think we both know he isn’t going to tell me.”
“I hope we’re wrong,” he said, opening his door.
She stepped closer. “Is there anything I can do to change it?”
“Sorry, miss. I fear not.” He shook his head, sadness drawing his features down. “Hard to change the mind of a stubborn man that’s been made up for nearly two decades.”
“But I’d like to try.”
A smile tugged at his mouth. “I hope my son realizes how lucky he is and doesn’t push you away, too.”
With that, the man got in his vehicle and drove out of sight.
The thought of Sinjin pushing her away was the reason she hadn’t pressed the issue that morning. But deep down, Isla knew she couldn’t let this drop. The father and son had lived through something horrific, and it had split them apart.
But unlike her and her dad, these two had a chance to fix things.
In order to do that, though, she needed to know a few details, and since Sinjin wouldn’t talk, she was going to have to go to Plan B. The last thing she wanted was to go behind his back, but she couldn’t help him without at least a brief summarization like she did for clinicals.
Mind made up, she headed home. Isla knew she’d meet with the same, “You’ll have to ask Sinjin,” response if she tried toquestion any of the men at ESI. And that was if they even knew. Plus, Sinjin was there, anyway.
Besides, she had the suspicion not all of them knew, which meant questioning her cousin’s husband was a no-go too.
Despite the fact those two didn’t see eye to eye, she was certain Gabe wouldn’t break that confidence either.
Truth be told, she didn’t want to put any of them in that position.
So, with a slight tug on Loki’s leash, she headed back to her cottage. It was time to get her dog out of the harsh sun, and for her to get on the internet.
After adding fresh water to Loki’s bowl, she grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and settled down on a stool at her kitchen island where her laptop sat waiting for her to get to her summarizations. This time, though, she was going to read them, not write them.
Loki lumbered to his bed by the window, circled it twice then plopped down with a groan. He closed his eyes and sighed. A few seconds later, he started to snore.
She chuckled softly. That walk and the heat had tired him out.
While her computer booted up, she did some quick calculations in her head to figure out a timeframe for the murder. Her stomach bunched. She still couldn’t believe Sinjin was also a surviving child of a murder victim.
God, she’d never wish that on anyone.
Blinking back tears, she sucked down some water then cleared her throat and started her search.
Mr. Acothley had told her his son had had his mind made up for nearly two decades, so she subtracted twenty years off the current year and typed that in, along with their last name, murder, and El Paso.
She immediately got a hit. The photo of a beautiful womansmiling with warmth in her brown eyes and a dimple in her cheek sucked a gasp of surprise from Isla. Her hair was only a medium brown, not as dark as Sinjin’s, and she didn’t have the high cheekbones or gorgeous tint to her skin. Evangeline St. John Acothley wasn’t of Native American descent.
Assuming that had been foolish on Isla’s part. And now that she’d seen both his father and this photo of his mother, she could see that he wasn’t exactly the spitting image of his dad. Sinjin’s nose and face were thinner, like his mother’s, and his hair was wavy like hers too.
Isla forced herself to read the article. She was a hospice nurse, attacked while walking to her car after work, discovered by her fourteen-year-old son near her car.
“Oh my God! Sinjin…” she whispered, covering her mouth with her hand as tears immediately filled her eyes and spilled down her face.
No wonder he was so closed off. So scarred.
His mother was the sixth and last victim of the Nightingale serial killer. There had been one more attack, but someone had heard the woman’s screams in an alley next to a clinic where the woman worked and had intervened and called the police.
Isla was shaking by the time she finished reading the first article and that was enough, deciding there was no need to read more. She didn’t need to know what the monster had done to his victims before murdering them, nor any detail of his life. He didn’t matter.
