Chapter 26
twenty-six
HANNAH
Smith Gallery Dublin was lit up like a glittery beacon in the otherwise overcast, dreary sky. Hannah watched all the socialite darlings swagger into the posh gallery—that used to be her. She used to be invited to all the best events.
Hannah had pretended to peek at the art through the window while couples streamed past. She wore a simple black wrap dress, a faux fur swing coat, and a fake diamond and emerald necklace she’d picked up earlier at one of the shopping mall kiosks.
A size fourteen when she used to be a four.
Not a lot of calories are burned sucking men off.
One voice cackled. Did you know we had you suck off that filthy druggie in the alley as part of his payment?
She pretended not to hear them, though she winced. Hannah remembered after she came back from her lost hours that there’d been an awful taste in her mouth. She’d suspected.
One young woman with short hair and wearing a sharp, fitted suit stopped to look at the artist’s picture and bio posted outside for the event in a disgustingly reverent way.
Hannah decided to try to gain some intel.
“I wonder if the artist works directly with Mirren Campbell. She’s one of the best in the business.
” She made sure to keep her fancy, wide-brimmed hat tilted over half her face.
The shadows would help hide her appearance in case someone was clever enough to look at the gallery’s cameras.
The young woman tore her gaze from the flyer. “You know Mirren?”
“Oh yes. We ran in the same circles in Edinburgh. I came early tonight to see the exhibit because I have to leave town soon, and unfortunately, I missed seeing Mirren. Do you know if her younger sister, Margaret, will attend? I so wanted to meet her.” In hell, Hannah thought.
“I don’t know, but I’m sure she is. Would you like me to pass on a message if she does come? What was your name again?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Hannah Keels. And no message, I’ll be back in town for the next exhibit. Have a lovely evening. The artist is wonderful.”
The voices snickered in her head at the name she gave. She loved it when she amused them.
“Anna deserves to be celebrated,” the young woman remarked. “Safe travels.”
She used to be a celebrated artist, Hannah thought, as she walked away.
Now you’re just old, fat, and ugly.
Crazy murderers don’t usually get fancy invites printed on perfumed cardstock.
“Fuck all of you,” she hissed. “I’m not the one who botched a simple hit-and-run, am I?” She wouldn’t take their abuse because they were angry that the girl bounced back yet again from one of their grand schemes.
“You fucked everything up now. Did you hide my identity when you gave that man drugs and sent him off in a stolen car? Because if they find him, we’ll be back in that hospital before the sun rises.
“You complain about my subtle psychological plays, but your efforts in hiring drug addicts haven’t worked out so well for you either.”
The Morrow bitch has nine lives.
If we had a better body, we could have taken her out ourselves and fuck the middleman, but no, we have you.
Disgusting.
Dumb.
Untalented.
Good for nothing.
Freak.
Psychological plays? We’re back speaking about the dead animals again. Christ save us. Did you hope she’d slip on the single droplet of blood and break her neck falling down the stairs?
“Fuck you,” she growled, leaning against the closed shop window across the street from the gallery.
Quiet. The deadliest of her voices demanded. This can’t go on. Eventually, the gardaí will catch up to us. We need to prepare.
“I have an idea,” Hannah began, trying to sound remorseful for her outburst.
This is assuredly not going to be good.
Good for nothing cow.
Speak.
Gritting her teeth and ignoring the thousandth slur of the day, she offered up what she considered a last-ditch effort to hurt Mirren.
“I believe that all we can hope for now is to destroy the sister’s livelihood. Hurting her physically hasn’t worked out well, and we’ve run out of time. We will be caught if we stay here any longer.
“I say we trash the attic when we’re assured she isn’t there. I don’t think we can count on her absence tonight, but soon. We’ll leave some special messages for the bitch to find. Leave her financially devastated and scared of her own shadow.
“Then we skip town while we still have enough money to travel and pay a long overdue visit to my mother.”
There was silence, which either meant they were thinking of the cruelest comments to pitch her way, or they were contemplating Hannah’s strategy.
Fine, but you’ll owe us blood for your habitual ineptness.
“Of course,” she agreed readily. They agreed with her plan. Hannah glowed with pride.