Chapter 11
My father stood near the fireplace. A whiskey glass held in his hand.
My mother stood several feet away, her face unrecognizable.
I looked to the corner of the China cabinet and saw Katherine with her knees pulled tightly against her chest, and her hands clamped over her ears as the shouting continued.
My mother went into the kitchen, picked up the biggest chef’s knife we had, and hid it behind her back.
“I loved you,” she told my father.
“You need help. None of this would have happened if you’d just gotten the help you needed.
“Twenty-two months. You’ve been seeing that whore for twenty-two months behind my back,” she spat. “But you’ll never leave me.” A sinister smile crossed her lips.
Suddenly, my mother flew like a madwoman to where my father stood and plunged the knife into his chest. The whiskey glass dropped and shattered as my father fell to the ground. My mother straddled him, piercing him twenty-one more times.
Katherine rocked back and forth as she tried to tear her eyes away from what Mother was doing. Katherine was trying to disappear. She looked at me.
“Make it stop,” she whispered. “Help me.”
She was begging me for help, and I knew what I needed to do.
I took over and shielded her from the madness of our mother.
When the world became too frightening, she handed it over to me.
I was born in this house. Not from violence, but from necessity.
I sent her to a happy place. The place she would go to when the world became too much.
Mother looked at me as she pierced my father’s chest one last time.
“Cheating men need to pay for their sins.”
I stared directly at her until my eyes diverted to the painting that hung on the wall behind her—Eyes Without a Face.
My eyes flew open as my heart pounded out of my chest. Katherine wasn’t hiding from monsters that night. She was creating one so she could survive. And I would be forever grateful she did.
After showering, I slipped on my robe and headed downstairs. My heart leaped out of my chest when I walked into the kitchen and saw Alex sitting at the table with a box of muffins and two coffees.
“Alex, you scared the shit out of me.”
“Sorry, darling. I wanted to surprise you.” He stood and kissed my lips. “I brought your favorite muffins and coffee from that bakery you love.”
He still had a key and the alarm code to the house. I’d have to fix that.
“Then, you’re forgiven.” I smiled.
He picked up the small remote and turned the news on while we sat down and had muffins and coffee together. A photograph of the latest victim appeared on the screen. Natalie Connelly. Twenty-three years old.
“This morning marks the second day of the investigation into the murder of twenty-three-year-old Natalie Connelly, whose body was discovered yesterday morning on Higgs Beach. Authorities are now advising young women to be alert at all times, stay in pairs, and stay home at night until The Last Chapter Killer is found.”
“So, they are admitting there’s a serial killer in Key West,” Luke said.
“Well, when three dead bodies with similarities turn up, I would say there’s a serial killer on the loose.”
Alex stood from his chair. “I’m worried about you.”
“Why?” My brows furrowed.
“Because there’s a serial killer on the loose who takes pleasure in killing young women. You need to be careful, Dahlia.”
“I’m always careful. Stop worrying, Alex.”
“I won’t. Not until this psychopath is caught and behind bars. I have to get to the university. Dinner tonight?”
“Of course.” I smiled.
“Have a good day.” He kissed my lips.
“You too.”
I almost wished I didn’t have to work today. I needed to know more about The Last Chapter Killer. Now, with dinner with Alex tonight, he’ll want to stay, and I wouldn’t be able to do my research. So, I decided to have someone do it for me.
I stepped into the gallery and saw Tess hanging a new piece of art. I froze when I saw it. Eyes Without a Face.
“Another one?” I walked over to Tess.
“Yep. It came last night after you left with two other paintings. I called Esme and asked her about it, and she said she couldn’t sell it and maybe I’d have better luck.”
I stared at it, and I knew what I had to do.
“Take it down. I’ll buy it.”
“Seriously?” Tess glanced at me. “You want this hanging in your house?”
“Yeah. I have the perfect spot for it.”
“Okay. If you say so.” She removed the painting from the wall and took it behind the counter.
I was finishing up with a customer when two women walked into the gallery. The woman with the short blonde hair looked like she’d been crying.
“You need to divorce him,” her friend said.
“I can’t. It’s Macy’s senior year, and I will not ruin it for her.”
“Can I help you with anything?” I walked over.
“We’re just looking at the moment,” her friend said.
I lingered around to hear their conversation.
“This isn’t you, Bethanny. Years ago, when you caught him, you told him if he ever did it again, you were divorcing him.”
“I know. And he vowed it would never happen again.” She wiped a tear from her eye.
“But since I quit work to raise Macy, he controls all the finances. I can’t afford to leave him.
Besides, his lawyer is a shark, and I won’t get anything.
I gave that man twenty years of my life, raised his daughter, and this is how he thanks me?
He goes and screws someone half his age?
” She shook her head. “I swear to God. I just want someone to make him understand what he did to us.”
It was like an open invitation. Almost as if she were begging for someone to right the wrongs of her husband.
I inhaled a deep breath. She stopped in front of a painting by one of our newest artists.
It depicted a lone woman standing at the edge of the ocean.
The title card beneath it read: Starting Over.
“This is one of my favorites,” I said, walking over to her.
She couldn’t stop staring at it. Perhaps she saw herself in that painting.
“It’s beautiful and emotional,” she said. “She looks lonely.”
“You think?” I cocked my head, staring at the painting. “I think she looks hopeful.”
“My therapist told me that I need to stop putting everyone else first. I haven’t bought a new piece of art in years.”
Her friend walked over and studied the painting. “It’s almost as if that painting is meant to be yours, Bethanny,” she said.
“You think?” She glanced at her friend. “For some reason, I can’t stop staring at it.”
“It would look fabulous above the couch in the living room.”
“How much?” Bethanny asked.
“$6,500.”
“Use his damn credit card and buy it. He owes you that much,” her friend said. “That way, when you finally decide to kick his ass to the curb, you’ll have this painting to get you through it.”
“You’re right. I’ll take it.” She glanced at me.
“You’ve made the right decision.” I smiled, removing the painting from the wall.
I took it behind the register to ring it up.
“Have you ever bought from us before?” I asked.
“No. I haven’t.”
I clicked the keys on the iPad. “Can I please see your I.D.?”
She removed her driver’s license from her wallet and handed it to me. I typed in her name and address.
“Now, you’re in our system for the next time you come in. How would you like to pay?”
“Credit card.” She handed me the card.
I glanced at the name on the card before swiping it. Lawrence Gearheart. Perfect. Now I had his name and address. I swiped the card, and the transaction was complete. After handing her card back, I wrapped the painting and handed it to her.
“I truly hope you enjoy your new little gem.” I smiled.
“Thank you. I’m sure I will.” She and her friend walked out of the gallery.
Grabbing a piece of paper, I wrote down her husband’s name and address.
Bethanny had no idea that I’d overheard the conversation between her and her friend, which was perfect for what would come next. He cheated on her years ago, vowed to never do it again, and years later, ended up breaking that vow. He needed to be punished for his sins.