Killer Image (An Allison Campbell Mystery) Read Online Free PDF

understand that. Wasn’t it the very thing he’d tried to twist during the divorce? To make her look crazy and unstable. No, explaining was pointless, the divide between them, too vast to bridge.
    “This is my life now.”
    “It’s been four years since Bridget died, Mia.” He reached across the table, but Mia pulled her hand away before he could touch her.
    He winced as though she’d slapped him. “Fine.” His tone turned brusque. “I just came to tell you that Arnie Feldman is dead.”
    She looked at him blankly. “Arnie? Arnie Feldman?” She repeated the name until it dawned on her. Edward’s divorce attorney. In a flash, she saw a small man, big nose, ingratiating smile.  Tiny pointed teeth. She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Edward, but I don’t understand. Why are you telling me?”
    Edward met her gaze with a harshness that startled her. “Because he was murdered, Mia. And a murder means an investigation.”
    “So?”
    “So the police are looking at anyone who’s had a conflict with Arnie. Anyone with motive.”
    She swallowed, sudden comprehension tearing through the layers of denial she’d so carefully stacked, layer upon layer, like bricks. “No.”
    “Yes.” He stood and turned toward the door, his tea untouched. “And this,”—he motioned around the room—“will not look normal to the police. Normal people don’t get off the grid, give up a marriage and a career because of one accident.”
    “You know I didn’t do it, Edward.”
    “You may want to call your son, Mia. Jason won’t speak to me, or I’d ask him myself. But you just may need a lawyer. The police have already visited me. They wanted to talk about you.”
    “Oh, for goodness sake, I didn’t kill anybody. Bridget’s gone. Nothing can bring her back. I made those threats against Arnie during the divorce because I was angry. Hurt. You and Arnie tried to make me look like a paranoid lunatic. I would never kill someone. You know me better than that.”
    “I knew you, Mia. Before. But this Mia,” he said, gesturing toward the window, at the barn and fields beyond. “This Mia, I don’t know at all.”
    Fear and anger closed in on Mia. The result was rage. “Leave, Edward. Now.”
    Edward opened the door to the porch. “Just call that son of yours and tell him to get his head out of his ass long enough to recommend an attorney.” He slammed the screen door closed but turned back before leaving. “Just in case.”

    Allison stood at her parents’ door for what felt like eons, unable to act.
    The rain had turned to a biting sleet that pummeled the walkway behind her and landed at an angle, so that even standing under the small vestibule, the pellets struck her back. She barely noticed. Instead, she felt the same twisting anxiety she always felt when she returned here.
    She turned the knob. Locked. She put her head against the doorframe and knocked. Nothing.
    She knocked again, harder. Eventually, the door opened and Faye’s angular face peered around the edge.
    “Can I come in?”
    Faye stepped back to let her inside, but not before she gave Allison a disapproving once over. “Suit yourself.”
    Over her sister’s shoulder, Allison caught a glimpse of the darkened living room.  A sagging floral sofa perched against the far wall, between mismatched coffee tables. A large bronze crucifix hung over an ancient television set, which had two knobs missing and a pair of pliers affixed to the dial. A smaller, newer television sat on top of the old one. The curtains were drawn, shutting out any remaining daylight and the world beyond these walls. Smells of onions and cooking oil and Lysol wafted from within.
    Her father sat slumped in a chair in the corner, a caricature of the man who haunted her childhood. He raised his head to look at her. Allison saw no warmth in his expression. His thin legs were propped on a ragged beige ottoman. She noticed socks worn threadbare at his heels, and ankles that looked too skinny and