Kept by Jami Alden Page B

into a frown. “Does the heightened security have anything to do with your father’s death?”
    Derek felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck. Despite her look of concern, Derek sensed something predatory in the reporter’s manner.
    “Not exactly,” Alyssa said, her smile strained.
    “How have you been holding up since his death?” Meredith’s face was all sad eyes and sympathy as she switched on the tape recorder.
    “It’s been difficult,” Alyssa replied. Her fingers twisted nervously on the table in front of her.
    “I can only imagine. Finding your father like that, it must have been awful for you.”
    Alyssa nodded. “I have pretty bad nightmares.”
    “Really, like what?”
    Alyssa got a faraway look in her green eyes. “I dream about that night, about finding them. Sometimes I dream there’s someone else there, waiting to kill me, too.” She shook her head, as though jolting herself back to reality.
    Meredith looked down at her pile of notes. “Interesting.” Derek didn’t like the way her eyes lit with morbid curiosity. “I read that in the initial police report you said you thought you saw a shadow running across the lawn.”
    Alyssa nodded.
    “So do you think the police were too quick to pin the blame on your stepmother? Maybe someone else was involved?”
    Alyssa’s smile was long gone. Now her face was a stressed mask, her lips pressed into a tight line, her mouth pulled down at the corners. She was silent for several seconds, lost deep inthought. Finally she shook her head. “It was all so scary and overwhelming,” she said, the horror evident in her voice.
    Derek felt an unwilling tug of sympathy as he watched Alyssa try to compose herself. The gory crime scene had been well documented in lurid detail. He’d seen his share of blood and death, and even he couldn’t say he ever got used to it. He could only imagine how someone like Alyssa, sheltered from any of life’s harsh realities, would react to such a scene.
    An unfamiliar urge washed over him—the need to comfort her, hold her close, reassure her that everything was going to be okay.
    “It’s hard to know exactly what I saw,” Alyssa continued, “but I’m sure the police knew what they were doing.”
    Meredith nodded. “And how do you respond to the people who say your presence in your father’s life and your involvement with the business drove your stepmother over the edge?”
    Alyssa flinched as if she’d been hit, and Derek forced himself to stay seated in his straight-backed chair. He looked over at Andy, wondering why she didn’t say anything. She continued to poke at her BlackBerry, oblivious.
    “My stepmother was troubled,” Alyssa said carefully. “I deeply regret any pain I caused her, but I’m not sorry for trying to have a relationship with my father.”
    There was a tight, pinching sensation in Derek’s chest that he tried to ignore. He didn’t want to feel sympathy for Alyssa, didn’t want to be touched by her vulnerability. He wanted her to be the vapid trust-fund baby he’d read about, not this big-eyed, sad girl who sat there and took it while this reporter aimed repeated jabs.
    He was just about to say screw it, end the interview, and hustle her out of there, when Alyssa seemed to gather herself up. She sat up straight in her chair, pasted the toothpaste smile back on her face, and cleared all emotion from her wide green eyes. “Do you mind if we talk about something else? I’d really rather not dwell on tragedy.”
    “Of course. I apologize,” Meredith said, her smile as sincere as Alyssa’s. “Let’s talk about fun stuff. Are you seeing anyone these days?”
    Alyssa’s cheeks blushed hot pink. “N—no, not really.” She lowered her eyes.
    The damn woman couldn’t lie to save her life. He wondered if the reporter noticed.
    Meredith gave her one of those conspiratorial, “hey, it’s just us girls here” smiles. “Please. You can’t convince me you don’t have tons of guys