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Finn answered with a sullen look. “We’re getting ten calls a day, demanding we get this, and I quote, evil murderer, off our streets.”
    Jamie tucked the folder under her arm and shot him a reassuring smile. “Well, that’s why I’m here.” Her jaw hardened in determination. “I’ll do everything in my power to help you catch this guy, Finn. I promise you that.”

Chapter 3
    J amie spent the entire evening and following morning going over the meager files Finn had given her, and by the time afternoon rolled around, she hadn’t gained any insights about the case. Teresa Donovan had argued with her ex-husband in the parking lot of a bar, gone home at midnight, and two hours or so later, took a bullet to the heart.
    Until the forensic results came back, there was nothing to prove that Cole Donovan had killed his ex-wife. He had the motive, sure, but Jamie still couldn’t reconcile the man she’d spoken with yesterday with a cold-blooded killer. Besides, judging by Finn’s notes, half the town had a motive when it came to Teresa.
    By three o’clock, Jamie finally closed the case folder and left the cozy suite she was renting at Serenade’s only bed-and-breakfast. Joe Gideon had agreed to meet with her at four o’clock, and since she had an hour to kill, she decided to head into the town and poke around. The townsfolk probably wouldn’t want to talk to a stranger, but maybe someone would have something to offer. And if not, she could always sit in the town diner for a bit and eavesdrop.
    As it turned out, she did neither of those things. After finding a parking space right on Main Street, she hopped out of the SUV, glanced at a store window and got sidetracked. She stood in front of a small art gallery, admiring a gorgeous oil painting that captured the town of Serenade so beautifully she found herself walking inside.
    “Can I help you with anything?” a pleasant female voice asked.
    Jamie looked over at the narrow counter by the door, surprised to find the same brunette she’d glimpsed by the fountain yesterday. Up close, the woman was even more beautiful, with the creamy pale skin of a cosmetics model, enormous liquid brown eyes, and a cupid’s bow mouth that had Jamie feeling envious.
    “I’m interested in the painting in the window, the one of the town,” she answered. “Is it for sale?”
    The brunette nodded. “It just came in last week. One of our local artists painted it, Miranda Lee. She’s unbelievably talented.”
    “Her work is beautiful,” Jamie agreed.
    The woman hopped off the tall stool she was sitting on and headed over to the easel by the window. “I’ve got it priced at three hundred,” she said over her shoulder, “but I’m sure the artist would be willing to lower the price if it’s too steep for you.”
    “It’s fine,” Jamie reassured. “And I’ll take it. It’ll look fantastic hanging in my living room.”
    The brunette gave a wide smile. “Wonderful. I’ll just wrap it up for you then.” As she gently lifted the canvas from the easel, she shot Jamie a curious look. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
    Jamie laughed and gestured to her business attire. “I stick out like a sore thumb, don’t I?”
    “Kind of.” With a smile, the brunette extended one delicate hand. “I’m Sarah Connelly, by the way. I own this place.”
    “Jamie Crawford,” she answered as she shook Sarah’s hand. “I’m in town helping out a friend. You probably know him, actually. Patrick Finnegan, the sheriff?”
    It was as if a light switch had been flicked off. One moment Sarah’s fair face was animated and friendly, the next, it went pale and expressionless.
    “Sure, I know Finn,” Sarah replied, a slight edge to her voice.
    Well, okay. Definitely some history there, but Jamie knew not to push for details. She could always ask Finn about it later. From the distrustful crease marring Sarah Connelly’s forehead, it was obvious the woman wasn’t going to answer any