But nobody would want to do business with somebody accused of murder.

“And I was with Beth the night Carrie was killed,” Tricia whispered. “But you can’t ask her, can you?”

No. But Kellan did have the reports from the deputies who had done the questioning of Carrie’s friends. Fuck. He flipped his notebook open and jotted down a few notes. “You heard about Kim, right?”

He watched as she nodded slowly. For once, she actually looked her age. Normally, she never let a line show on her face, but right now, she looked totally shell-shocked. He left the gallery a few minutes later, plowing a hand through his hair.

He couldn’t focus. First, he had thought it was Kim. Then Tricia. Oh, he’d check her story out, verify it. But already he had a bad suspicion that her story would check out.

Idiot. He was letting Darci skew his thinking. Worrying about her, so convinced it was about her. “It’s not, is it?” he muttered as he returned to his car.

Totally unaware of the eyes that watched him.

Tricia was still sitting there, staring dumbly at nothing when the door opened. Sliding Peggy an evil look, she said waspishly, “Well, your plan is working. We’ve got more business than we could ever dream of, Carrie is out of the way and she can’t cause us any more trouble. Beth’s constant bitching is over with and we’ve made buckets off of the works of our artists who were so tragically killed. But now he knows.”

“He doesn’t know. He may suspect, but if he knew, you’d be on your way to the station,” Peggy snapped. Her salt-and-pepper hair hung in careless ringlets around her face as she tossed her head, rolling her eyes at Tricia.

“I want to know about Bryce.”

Peggy arched a brow, her mouth flat. “Excuse me?”

“Why did you kill Bryce? And Kim? That’s what is causing the trouble. Damn it, if you had just stopped-”

Peggy sneered. “Oh, don’t go acting like you had nothing to do with any of this. Don’t forget who killed Beth. You’re just as much involved in this as I am. And Kim, hell, she’s a whiny whelp. Useless. What does it matter?”

“What about Bryce? He wasn’t in the plan. And he was just as annoying as Kim is,” Tricia snapped, control fading fast. She wanted to shout and scream and pummel Peggy’s face. Damned irrational bitch had gotten her into this mess.

“Bryce was not annoying.”

Tricia lifted her head, studying Peggy’s face. “Damn it. You were fucking him,” she whispered, narrowing her eyes.

Peggy moved away, her motions jerky and stilted. “Bryce and I were lovers for a time.”

“Then how could you kill him?”

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she collapsed to the floor. “I wasn’t going to. I missed him-he pushed me away, told me I was too clingy. I went to his house that night and we…we…”

“You fucked,” Tricia said snidely.

Peggy’s face flushed and she snarled, “I loved him. It was more than just fucking.” Her eyes took on a glassy look as she stared at her hands. “But then he called me Darci again. I hate it when he does that. Hate it. I saw the knife. And he was just sitting there with his back to me, ignoring me…always ignoring me. He’d started fucking that bitch, Kim. I saw them together, damn it. Fucking her as though she actually was something special. She didn’t appreciate him. She just wanted somebody to fuck her sorry ass.”

Tricia closed her eyes, shaking her head. “Damn it, you let emotions get in the way. You attacked Kim because you’re fucking jealous.”

Peggy sneered at Tricia. “No. I did it because it was good to keep going and because I didn’t like her. Sooner or later, I’ll finish the job.”

Tricia pressed her fingers to her temples and muttered, “You’re nuts.”

She never heard Peggy stand up as she herself rose, walked around the small office, and tapped a finger against her lips. “We have to get everything hammered out. Kellan knows I was home alone. I think he believes me. You need to come up with an-”

She stopped in mid-sentence as the cold pain sliced through her. She stared down at the silver glint of the knife piercing her chest. Blood bubbled out of her lips as the knife was withdrawn and she slowly sank to the floor.

“I’ve already got it hammered out,” Peggy said to the still body at her feet. She nudged her ex-partner with her foot and said, “I’m going to be remembered. I may not be the best artist in the world. But at least my art will be remembered.”

Chapter Eight

Kellan parked at the station, drumming his fist on the steering wheel.

His cell phone rang and he tugged it off his belt, recognizing Grady’s number and frowning. Kim was stable. He’d made sure of that.

“This is Grant.”

“You need to get down here,” Grady said shortly. “Peggy Ralley just walked in and she’s got blood all over her.”

“She’s been attacked?”

“Ahhh…boss, I don’t think it’s her blood.”

Understanding dawned in his mind and he threw the car into drive. Peeling out of the parking lot, he said, “I’m coming, but County is about twenty minutes from me. She got a weapon?”

“Can’t tell. The nurses are talking to her…she looks kind of weird in the eyes.”

Shit.“Keep her out of that room, Grady. Do not let her in there,” he snapped.

“Well, gee, I kind of figured that out,” Grady drawled and Kellan could almost see the sarcastic roll of his deputy’s eyes.

“Son of a bitch.” Not Tricia. Peggy. The quiet, colorless woman who faded into the background, except for her art. He punched the gas and shot through the red light, hitting the lights and sirens, swerving to go around the pickup in front of him. The two-lane highway opened up ahead of him as he sped for the hospital.

“Boss. I think I should get off the phone. She’s heading my way.”

The cell phone went silent and Kellan threw it down, swearing viciously. Blood… A snarl escaped his lips and he grabbed the phone again, punching in Darci’s number. Three rings…four rings…five… A sick fear bloomed in his gut, duty warring with the need to make sure Darci was safe.

The relief that flooded him when Darci answered the phone on the seventh ring was unlike anything he had ever felt.

“Damn it, what in the hell took you so long to answer the phone?” he demanded. “Are you okay? Where is Hank?”

Her voice, low and amused, came over the line. “Nice to talk to you, too. I was in the studio, developing some negatives. I’m fine and Hank is sitting in his car, singing along with some cry in your beer music.”

“Thank God.” Damn it, he wanted to see her, touch her. Kellan hadn’t ever been that afraid before and he suspected his heart wouldn’t start beating normally until he had touched her, held her close against him and felt her heart beating against his, the way it did when he had her naked and wrapped around him.

“Listen to me. Do not let anybody in your house other than me or Hank. Nobody, you understand me?” he said intensely. “Stay away from the door, stay inside. Got it?”

She was silent for a long moment and then she said, “What’s going on, Kellan?”

“No time. I’ve got to go.” His hand clenched around the phone and he bit back the words that were dancing on his tongue. “Do what I said, okay?”

“Sure. Are you-”

He took the turn into the hospital at fifty miles an hour, tires squealing. “I’ve got to go… Darci, I think I’m in love with you.”

Then he hit the end button and tossed the phone down, slamming on the brakes in front of the emergency room. He ran through the automatic doors, down the hall that led to ICU, fear and anger a metallic taste in his throat. Whose blood?

Grady’s voice rang out down the hall. “I will not tell you again, Miz Ralley. Step back or I will shoot.”

The laughter that came from her was unlike any he had heard before. High, maniacal, and wild. He slowed to a stop as he veered around the corner, staring at Peggy’s back. No blood… But then she turned around and he saw the chilling smile on her face. Bright red blossoms stained the front of her paint-splattered shirt.


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