No Chance in Hell Read Online Free PDF Page A

reflected the overhead lighting, making the area bright. A brown leather couch was flanked by two brown easy chairs. A smattering of pictures hung on the wall. In a word, he’d describe her place as nondescript. Not at all matching his initial impressions of her.
    Except for one particular painting that caught his attention. Hung under a wall-mounted light and over the fireplace, it was a really nice copy of the Mona Lisa.  
    “This is amazing.”
    “It’s all I have left of my sister. Lord only knows where she got the money to buy such a good reproduction.”
    He understood that Chris would treasure something that reminded her of her sister. Over time, memories fade and hurts heal. It was good to have something tangible to hold on to.  
    Marcus moved through the space. Her living area was neat and clean. He explored downstairs and upstairs. One room housed a queen-size bed with a plump white comforter spread across the foot. The faint hint of citrus filled the space, reminding him of Chris.
    Of everything he’d seen, her scent in this bedroom and the print in the living room were the only things he could tie to Chris. The answer hit him. She’d filled the place with inexpensive furniture in case she had to move quickly.  
    Across the hall, he found a second bedroom. The room was quite different from the rest of the town house. A lone desk sat against the wall. A secretary chair and one file cabinet made up the furnishings. On the floor were two cardboard boxes and a number of unframed canvases. No curtains. Stark white blinds covered the windows. No niceties. No luxury, but warmer and more lived in than the rest of the place. He wanted a closer look at the artwork.  
    “You’re an artist? May I?” His hand hovered over the first canvas and waited until she nodded. He dropped down on one knee and carefully looked through the stack of artwork. She painted in watercolor. He was no expert, but the portraits of women standing in open fields were great. The ones depicting nature—trees covered with green leaves, flowers growing under bright sunlight—really caught his attention. A weathered barn nestled in a field of yellow wheat was his favorite.  
    “Not anymore. I don’t know why I haven’t trashed them. Since Chelsea’s murder, I haven’t had the desire.”
    “It would be a shame if you didn’t keep it up. These should be on display in an art gallery.”
    “Thank you. I’ve been trying to write Chelsea’s book. Even though there is no happy ending, if it keeps one person off drugs and out of prostitution, it will be worth it. But the killer has to be brought to justice or there’s no end to the story.”
    “It’s a nice tribute, but it must be difficult.”
    “More than I can say. There are so many unanswered questions that I keep writing myself into a corner. It’s a lot harder than I anticipated.”
    “Once we find her murderer, maybe you’ll get those answers.” Marcus finished his inspection, and then followed her to the front room. “You’ll need to speak with these guys.” He motioned to the officers waiting in her living room. “Nate and I will look around the outside. I can tell you now that your security system needs updating.”  
    “Do you know somebody?”
    “Yeah. I’ll get the installation expedited.”
    Marcus and Nate walked outside and did a close inspection of each access to her house. They found no broken windows or locks.
    Nate stopped on her front steps and shook his head. “Bastard had to bypass the security system. But how’d he get inside?”
    The two officers walked out. Their notebooks were closed and out of sight, leaving Marcus to believe they were satisfied. He and Nate thanked them.
    “You go ahead,” Nate said. “I’m going to take a second look around.”
    Marcus joined Chris inside. “They weren’t here long.”
    She sat in a big easy chair. “You think they believed me?”
    “I don’t see why they wouldn’t.” The doorbell rang. “You