Shaking my head, I smiled at her. "No. Enjoy your holiday, Michelle."
"You too, Mr. Stone. I hope it's a happy one."
I didn't continue the conversation, silently praying that Nina and I would have a happy Christmas. It was our first, and I wanted it to be perfect for her. But first, I needed to find out the rest of the story from Amanda Cashen's sister. After making arrangements to fly out that afternoon, I took care of some business and headed back to the house to find Nina, my stomach in knots about what I'd find in Atlanta.
Chapter Eighteen
Tristan
The flight was thankfully uneventful, even though the smoothest plane ride was still terrifying for me. I spent the entire time sitting like a statue in my seat while Nina talked about what she planned to do for the Atlanta suite, intentionally trying to take my mind off the trip. I hadn't exaggerated about wanting to join the Mile High Club with her when I'd teased her about it, but the minute I stepped onto the plane, it was like every other time I'd flown since the crash. My heart raced and I didn't feel like I was getting enough air in my lungs, as if someone had their hands wrapped around my neck and their fingers were pressing against my throat, slowly strangling me. None of the tricks the doctors had given me worked, but I couldn't help but smile at Nina's attempt to make the flight bearable.
The Atlanta Richmont was all decked out for the Christmas holiday with a twenty-five foot evergreen tree decorated with gold and red ornaments as the focal point in the lobby. It resembled the kind of tree my mother used to love for the holidays.
"Tristan, this hotel is gorgeous! Do all of them look like this?" Nina asked as she swiveled her head left and right to take in all the view.
"Pretty much. Some are better than others. This is my first time here too, but I must say it's not bad."
She jabbed me in the ribs with her finger and grimaced. "Always so understated. This place is great!"
I leaned down to kiss her and whispered, "I'm glad you like it. Let's hope you think the same way when you see the suite."
Located on the top floor of the hotel, the Peachtree Suite was one of two suites that took up the space a penthouse in other hotels would. I'd originally chosen this suite instead of the other Dogwood Suite because I'd hoped it would be a good way to ease Nina back into work. Unlike in Dallas, with its ugly gold everywhere, the designers my father had hired for Atlanta were top notch, so all she'd have to do was choose a piece or two she loved and she'd have succeeded.
Nina followed me into the suite and whistled behind me. "This is even nicer in person than it was online. I'm still not sure what artwork I could pick to improve on it, though."
I poured myself a drink to calm my nerves from the plane and what I was about to do. "I'm sure whatever you pick will be great, Nina."
Wrapping her arms around me, she pressed her cheek to my back. "Is there something wrong? I know you said you hate flying, but all of a sudden, you seem different."
I put my glass down on the bar and placed my hands over hers on my chest. "Nothing wrong. I'm always like this after a flight."
"You sure? Anything I can do?" she asked sweetly, making me wish I could just tell her what was making my stomach twist in knots. I couldn't. Not yet, anyway. I had to do this alone, but I hoped that once I met with Jessica Cashen that all the secrets I'd kept from Nina could finally come out.
I turned in her hold and cupped her chin. "I need to take care of some business this afternoon, but I hope we can have dinner when I get back. I shouldn't be long."
Nina smiled up at me, blissfully unaware of where I was going. "Okay. I'm going to get working on the artwork for this nearly perfect suite, Mr. Stone. Don't worry. I'm on the job."
I couldn't help but smile. She did that to me. "I'm happy to hear it, Ms. Edwards. I'll expect a full report when I return then."
"Of course." She faked a bow and stood on her toes to kiss me. "Don't work too hard, okay? Tell whoever you're meeting that I'm going to have something to say to them if you come back here all grouchy because of work."
Kissing the tip of her nose, I promised not to work too hard. I couldn't promise I wouldn't be a miserable f**k when I returned, though. I hadn't been able to get all those terrible things Joseph Edwards had detailed in his notes out of my mind and what Judge Cashen's daughter had to say likely wouldn't make things better. But at least I'd know the full truth.
The concierge had a car service take me to Jessica Cashen's home in Alpharetta, and nearly an hour later I was standing on the front porch of her home with my heart in my throat. A cool breeze chilled me as it began to lightly rain. I rang the doorbell and balled up my shaking hands, bracing myself for what was to come.
The door opened and in front of me stood a woman I guessed wasn't even Nina's age. Maybe twenty-two, she had short blond hair and brown eyes that grew larger by the second as she stared at me. She was petite, but quickly I found out that small package was full of power.
"Who are you? How can you be here?" she asked in a voice seeped in rage.
I raised my hands in front of me in surrender, hoping to put her at ease. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. My name is Tristan and I was hoping to speak to you about your father."
"There's no way you can be standing here in front of me. Is this some kind of cruel joke? If so, I don't think it's funny."
She tried to slam the door on me, but I quickly stuffed my right foot next to the doorjamb and said quietly, "Please. I don't know what you're talking about, but it's very important I speak to you."
"Who are you?"
I looked in through the opening and saw a look of horror on her face. "Don't be scared. My name is Tristan Stone. I just want to talk. Please."
The look in her eyes told me she recognized my name. Slowly, she opened the door and her gaze scanned me up and down. Finally, she stopped on my face and narrowed her eyes to angry slits.
"You look just like him."
I didn't have to ask who she meant. Nodding, I said, "He was my twin."
"I heard he died. Is that true?" she asked with venom in her words.
"Yes."
"Good. I hope he suffered." She looked away and then faced me again. "I'm sorry. I just can't feel bad that he's gone."
"May we talk? I need some answers, and I'm hoping you can help me understand some things."
Silently, she welcomed me in and we sat in a small living room off the entryway with a small, unlit Christmas tree in the corner. I studied her for a moment as she did the same with me, and then I said what I guessed no one in my family had ever said to her. "I'm sorry about the deaths of your father and sister."
"I'm having a hard time believing you knew nothing about that, Mr. Stone. Your brother sure did."
"My brother and I were two very different people. I swear to you I knew nothing about what happened to your family. That's what I'm here for tonight."
Jessica Cashen sighed heavily and her mouth turned down into a frown. "You don't understand how hard it was to accept what your brother did. Even today, if I hear the name Taylor, I have a hard time not lashing out. My husband has been through so many nights of me being miserable over this I had to promise him I'd let it go."
"I understand, Jessica, but I need to know things only you can tell me. There's another person hurt by all this, and she'll be helped by what you tell me."
"Are you saying your brother did this to another girl too?"
I shook my head. "No, but there was another person hurt by my brother and father. What you can tell me about what happened may help her deal with the loss of her father."
"I'm sorry to hear someone else went through what my family had to endure. My mother died last year right in this house, never fully recovered from the shock of losing my sister and father just months apart. She just shriveled up."
"I'm so sorry."
She wiped a tear away and took a deep breath. "I'll tell you what I know. You'll have to fill in the blanks."
"Thank you." I sat back on the couch and listened as she began her story.
"My sister was only fifteen when she met your brother, Tristan. Even now as I look at you, I can see him. Those same brown eyes and look of money you both have. How old are you?"
"Twenty-nine."
"Did you like teenage girls when you were twenty-four? Your brother did. I never found out how he met her. I can't imagine why a fifteen year old girl, a freshman in high school, would be anywhere near where a grown man would be. Amanda was sweet and innocent, not in the way people say someone is but in reality they're out every night sleeping with anyone. She was still a virgin when she met him."
My stomach turned at the idea of being with a teenage girl when I was twenty-four.
"Wherever they met, she was crazy about him from the first night. I remember she came up to my room and told me she'd met someone. I thought she meant some boy at the mall. She told me his name was Taylor and he was gorgeous with big brown eyes she was sure were the most beautiful eyes she'd ever seen. I bet you've heard that a lot too."
Jessica stopped for a moment and stared at me. "It's amazing how much you look like him. When I first saw you standing in my doorway, I wanted to lunge at you I was so angry. You're identical down to the shape of your face and even your teeth."