A Killer Column Read Online Free PDF Page A

wrong.
    As I tried to take in the artwork, my thoughts kept going back to Derrick’s body slumped over the table.
    It was not an image I relished, and yet I couldn’t drive it from my thoughts, not even staring at my favorite Georgia O’Keeffe, or the Monet that always touched me.
    I was still trying to appreciate the artwork in front of me when my cell phone went off, earning me an angry glance from an elderly gentleman standing nearby.
    I didn’t even need to glance at the screen to see who was calling as the quacking of a hundred ducks suddenly filled the air.

Chapter 4

    “ Y OU’RE OUT EARLY,” I SAID AS I HURRIED TOWARD A PUBLIC space in the museum where we could talk.
    “It’s all over,” he said, the sound of pure defeat filling his voice.
    “He’s free?” I asked, not believing what I was hearing.
    “I guess you could say that. They found him hanging in his cell this morning. He was too big a coward when it came down to facing the world with what he’d done, I guess.”
    “I’m so sorry,” I said. My husband believed in justice, and I knew that this wasn’t any approximation of it in his eyes.
    “It happens. At least he’s finished terrorizing this part of the world. How did your meeting with Derrick go?”
    “Not well,” I admitted. I hated to add to his misery, but there was no way I could keep what had happened to myself any longer. As I brought him up-to-date, he interrupted more and more until I finally said, “Just let me talk, Zach. I’ll answer your questions when I’m through.”
    “I can do better than that,” he said. “I’m catching the next flight to Raleigh. I’ll leave my car in Knoxville at the airport and we can pick it up later.”
    “Jenny’s handling things. There’s no need to rush here,” I said, though I was heartened by my husband’s reaction.
    “That’s where you’re wrong. I’ll call you back as soon as I get a flight time,” he said.
    “Thanks.”
    “Just hang in there, kiddo,” he said.
    And that’s when I felt myself breaking down. “I will,” I managed to get out before I hung up. I’d been bottling everything up inside, but hadn’t realized it. Hearing my husband’s voice had triggered something in me, and it all came rushing out in a sudden avalanche of tears.
    I was standing in front of a modern piece, a collection of paper butterflies and flowers hovering overhead. An older woman walked up to me and handed me a tissue. “It affects me the same way, dear. You have the soul of a poet seeing its beauty as strongly as you do.”
    I didn’t have the heart to tell her why I was really crying. “Doesn’t everyone?”
    “You’d be surprised.”
    I walked back out to my car and sat there until I got myself composed again. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been there when my phone rang.
    “Where are you?” It was Jenny.
    “I’m at the art museum. Why?”
    “Well, get over to my place. I’ve got a pitcher of sangria waiting with your name on it.”
    “You know I’m not much of a drinker,” I said.
    “Trust me, now is as good a time to start as any.”
    “I thought you had work to do.”
    She laughed. “I put most of it off on some of the associates at the firm. Rank does have its privileges. Now, are you coming, or do I have to drink this all by myself?”
    “I’m on my way,” I said.
     
     
    A S I WAS DRIVING TO JENNY’S PLACE, MY PHONE STARTED quacking, and I’ve never been so happy to hear that sound in my life.
    “Hey, sweetheart.”
    “Don’t worry about a thing,” he said. “I’ll be in Raleigh by seven.”
    “Tonight?”
    He laughed. “Yes, tonight. I got lucky. I found a flight and weaseled my way onto standby. They just told me I got a seat, so I’ll be there in a few hours.”
    “I’m so glad,” I said, letting the remaining tension flow out of me. I was a brave, independent woman who wasn’t afraid to fight her own battles, but that didn’t mean that I didn’t love having my husband by my side,