If the police could not connect her with the case, there was no way they could make a connection to her father.
Half a dozen times she steeled herself to ask him about it, but each time she backed off.
What if he were innocent? Could he ever forgive her for accusing him of being a murderer?
And if he is guilty, I don't want to know, Ashley thought. I couldn't bear it.
And if he has done those terrible things, in his mind, he would have done them to protect me.
At least I won't have to face him this Christmas. Ashley telephoned her father in San Francisco.
She said, without preamble, “I'm not going to be able to spend Christmas with you this year, Father.”
“My company is sending me to a convention in Canada.”
There was a long silence. “That’s bad timing, Ashley. You and I have always spent Christmas together.”
“I can’t help—” “You’re all I have, you know.” “Yes, Father, and... you’re all I have.”
“That’s what’s important.” Important enough to kill for? “Where is this convention?”
“In Quebec City. It’s—” “Ah. Lovely place. I haven’t been there in years. I’ll tell you what I’ll do.
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