The Killing Edge by Heather Graham

TV—they see how American woman sleep with so many men with so little thought, how they drink and carry on, all on the giant television screen. I tried to tell my daughter that she mustn’t become like a puta, a whore, because decent men will not want her, decent men who go to work, love their wives and care for their children and their families. Do you know what she told me? She told me she didn’t want a decent man and a decent family. She wanted the American dream. So what is this dream? I ask her. To sleep around like the women on the television set?” He groaned. “So now—now that I don’t care who she wants to sleep with as long as she is alive —she will not even talk to me. Her mother cries every night. It is agony that she will not speak to us, and it is worse to think about Colleen, to think that Rene will be like Colleen and never come home, never get to live a long and happy life. Iknow you think I am just a worried father, that my daughter is safe and what happened to Colleen will not happen to her, but I know. I know . If she stays there, she will die.”
    “Octavio, you have to stay calm,” Luke told him. “There’s no proof so far that anything bad even happened to Colleen.”
    Octavio stared back at him with wise and tired eyes. “Colleen is dead. Her father knows it, as does her mother. As I do. Her parents went to Islamorada—because those swine at the agency would not allow her mother to go out to the island they own, the island where she…disappeared. They act like her parents are mosquitoes, an annoyance. My wife went, too. They set up crosses, a memorial for Colleen.” He winced, then downed his cognac in a swallow.
    Luke was silent for a minute, then leaned toward Octavio. “I will do everything in my power, but you have to trust me. As of tonight, we know that your daughter is all right. Her friends told me that Rene wants this modeling career very badly—badly enough that she may be avoiding your calls because she doesn’t want you to keep trying to talk her out of it. I can try to get her to talk to you, but no one—not me and not you—can stop her from going on that photo shoot if she makes the decision to go.”
    “If she goes, then you must go to the island, too. You must find out what is going on,” Octavio implored.
    “I can do that,” Luke agreed.
    Octavio stood and pumped Luke’s free hand. “Lieutenant Stuckey told me that I could count on you.”
    “I’ll keep you informed,” Luke promised. “But, Octavio, if she calls you, no matter how hard it is, no matter howmuch you feel it goes against tradition, don’t try to stop her from pursuing her career or interfere with her life. Be open to her dreams.”
    Octavio’s eyes betrayed his agony. “Even though I fear for her life?” he whispered.
    “Especially because you fear for her life. Stay open so she’ll know she can turn to you if she needs to, no matter what. Rene is seeing what she wants to see, but even if someone at the agency is dangerous, that doesn’t mean the entire operation is corrupt.”
    “Myra Allen,” Octavio said knowingly, his brows furrowing. “That woman is corrupt.”
    “Everyone involved has been and is still being investigated,” Luke said. “They haven’t closed the case.”
    “Officially, no? But in their minds, it is. Another silly girl gone off—that’s what they have chosen to believe. Even when they know it is wrong.”
    The long day was starting to make itself felt. Luke repeated, “I’ll do everything in my power to keep your daughter safe, Octavio. And,” he promised, thinking of the job Stuckey had asked him to do while he was undercover helping the Gonzalezes, “I’ll find out what happened to Colleen Rodriguez.”
    With that, Octavio nodded and started up the steps, looking older than his years. Luke followed him, jumping to the dock first and offering him a hand. Octavio thanked him, then said good-night and walked down the road toward the bait-and-beer