Free Murder On The Menu: The 1st Nikki Hunter Mystery (Nikki Hunter Mysteries) by Nancy Skopin

same asshole I’d spoken with on the phone? Some individuals behave differently in person. They think they can get away with anything on the telephone because you can’t see them. It’s like the way people drive, but don’t get me started on that.
    Derrick escorted me down a series of hallways and up one flight of stairs to his office. When we were inside and he’d closed the door, his demeanor became frosty. Apparently the friendly act had been for the benefit of his employees.
    His office was a corner suite with expansive windows. He seated himself behind an oversized mahogany desk. I took a seat on the other side of the desk and observed that my visitor’s chair was about five inches lower than the executive swivel on which Derrick was perched. It’s amazing the lengths to which some people will go to make others feel insignificant. I believe this is a holdover from childhood when we have no control over what happens to us. People have a fundamental need to believe they have command of their lives, and that often translates to control over others. In reality, all any of us can control is our own response to what happens.
    I took out my notebook. “I understand Laura seldom brought friends home.”
    He shook his head. “Never.”
    “Did she talk about her friends, or any men she was dating?”
    “No.”
    “Were you aware of any particular man she might have been seeing?”
    “No.”
    “Did you know Laura enjoyed skydiving?”
    He lifted an eyebrow. “What?”
    “There was a videotape in her bedroom of Laura and a male companion skydiving.”
    “Really? I’d like to see that.”
    “I’ll be sure to get it back to you. I was wondering if you have any idea who the man might be. He was tall, athletic, brown hair.”
    “No.”
    “Mr. Howard, were you close to your daughter?” Even taking what Sylvia had told me into account, I didn’t want to assume anything.
    “No, Ms. Hunter, I was not close to Laura. My business takes up most of my time. When she was a little girl things were different. We haven’t been close since she was eleven or twelve. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help to you.”
    Eleven or twelve. Puberty. Maybe Sylvia was onto something.
    “Did you know Laura got three speeding tickets in the last year?”
    The eyebrow popped up again. “No, I wasn’t made aware of that,” he said.
    This was getting me nowhere. I chose not to bring up the solicitation arrest, the strip club, or the fiancé until I’d made a decision about taking the case.
    “I may need to speak with you again,” I said, handing him my card. “But I won’t take any more of your time today.”
    He tucked my card in his breast pocket and said, “I’ll walk you down.”
    We took a different staircase on the way out and passed a glass-walled computer lab full of men and women hovering over keyboards with large flat panel monitors. My eye was caught by a movie-star-handsome guy in his mid-thirties. Tall, wavy brown hair, nice build.
    He must have felt me watching him, because he looked up and met my gaze. His eyes were dark and penetrating and as he stared at me I felt exposed, almost violated. There’s no other way to describe it.
    Derrick and I continued down the hall and he ushered me out a side door. I thanked him for seeing me and told him I’d be in touch.
    Once I was outside I still couldn’t shake off the visual encounter with the guy in the computer lab.
    I walked to my car feeling unsettled. Laura’s father showed no emotional response to the death of his daughter. Maybe he’d viewed her as an embarrassment or an inconvenience and was glad to be rid of her. Of course, he might just be a very private person. Maybe he was a seething cauldron of repressed emotion, ready to explode with the slightest additional pressure, and was just hiding it really well.
    I wasn’t sure what to do next, so I decided to take another look at my photos of Detective Anderson’s binder. I drove back to the office and read the