Telling Tales

Chapter Seven

Tricia ignored the knock on the door.

Bryce’s chauvinistic attitude aggravated the hell out of her, but he knew how to get the paperwork done. Kim could do it, screwed it up in the process, but at least Tricia didn’t have to deal with it.

So until Kim got out of the hospital and was able to come back to work, Tricia had to do it herself again.

But the fist pounding on the door just banged again. And again. Finally, she tugged her glasses off and left the office, staring through the door at the grim outline of the Sheriff.

Opening the door, she stepped aside. “Hello, Sheriff Grant. Gallery isn’t open on Sundays. And I’m behind now,” she said wearily. “So much paperwork. I’ve got a million things to get done, including trying to hire some more employees.”

“I’m going to have to intrude for a while,” he said.

She sighed and let him enter, pushing the door closed behind him before she walked back to her office, his feet soundless on the plush carpet behind her.

“I don’t have much time, Sheriff. Can we make this fast?”

The Sheriff’s hazel eyes looked blandly back at her through the lenses of his glasses. “I can try. I need to know where you were last night and when Bryce was killed. Then where were you three weekends ago.”

Air trapped in her lungs and she blinked once, frowning at him, “Excuse me?”

“Can you answer the question, Ms. Casey?”

“You’re trying to get my whereabouts for the nights my friends were killed,” she said, amazed, staring at him with wide eyes. She dropped down onto the chair just inside the door, the strength leaving her legs as she stared up at him. “You’re serious.”

“Ms. Casey…”

She passed her glasses from one hand to another as she hollowly said, “Last night, I was home. Alone. But the night Bryce died…well, I’ve told you that. I was in Columbus for a dinner meeting with several other gallery owners. I’ve been thinking of expanding and…” her voice trailed away and she realized she wasn’t going to be able to do that right now. All of her plans-this would ruin her. Having a gallery where her employees and contract artists were being murdered was one thing.

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.”