Man with the Muscle. Julie Miller

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      His gaze dropped down to her ID badge. Apparently, the judicial emblem held enough sway for him to lean in to whisper. “There may be a bomb inside.”

      “A bomb?”

      He put a finger to his lips. “That’s what the note with the body said. Captain Cutler said until we know more, we don’t want to say or do anything that will cause a panic.”

      Cutler. She knew that name. That meant his SWAT team was on the premises, and that Gretchen’s death might not be the only tragedy KCPD had to worry about. Audrey glanced around, recognizing many of the guests in attendance. There was the party planner Audrey had hired herself in the past, Clarice Darnell, along with her staff—servers, caterers, parking attendants. These were friends, colleagues, acquaintances Audrey had met at society events similar to this one. They were already traumatized by the news that their hostess tonight had been murdered. She didn’t wish more trouble on any of them. “No. We wouldn’t.”

      “You can check with me later,” the policeman offered. “I’ll let you in as soon as Captain Cutler gives the okay.”

      She nodded her thanks. “In the meantime, is there someone in charge I could speak with to get some details about what’s happened? It’s already on the internet. Rumors are going to fly if we don’t contain this.”

      “Ma’am, all I’ve been told is to keep people back—”

      “Never mind.” She put up her hands, knowing she was pushing too hard, knowing he was just doing his job, knowing she wouldn’t get her answers here. “Thank you.”

      “Audrey?”

      She turned at the familiar voice and hurried to meet the tall blond man striding toward her. “Harper.”

      He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her clear off the ground, squeezing her tight as he wept against her neck. “She’s gone, Audrey. Gretchen’s gone.” She held on tight and rocked back and forth with him. “I loved her, you know.”

      “I know. We all did.”

      He gulped in a shuddering breath and eased his grip enough so her toes could touch the ground. “We were always together at school—you, me, Gretchen, Charlotte, Donny, Val and the others.”

      Audrey rubbed circles at the collar of his gabardine suit, inhaling his familiar scents of tobacco and aftershave, sharing the loss with him. Their whole group of friends through high school had been tight, and though their lives and jobs had taken them in different directions after graduation, they’d found a way to keep in touch, trading calls and notes, coming together in times of tragedy like tonight.

      “I used to think you were the one.” Harper sighed, recalling the brief time they’d dated in high school. “But when I got back from law school, something about Gretch had changed. She was still as beautiful and fun and goofy as ever, but …”

      “She grew up.” She’d seen the new maturity in the once-capricious Gretchen, too.

      “I asked her to marry me. We were going to announce it tonight.”

      That she didn’t know. Tears welled up in Audrey’s eyes, and she pulled back to touch his face. “Oh, Harper.”

      “I saw her tonight. In her bed. Before the cops chased us out.” His red-rimmed eyes were dry now, and a brave smile creased his face. “You know she never gets anywhere on time—she changes her mind about what she’s wearing or can’t find the right jewelry to match. But after the guests had been here for almost an hour, I got worried. I went upstairs to …” His smile faltered and Audrey’s stomach clenched to receive the blow. “She looked so perfect lying there, like she was sleeping. But she … That bastard hurt her. Tortured her. There were marks around her wrists and neck. Her face was … I touched her and she … she was so cold.”

      Audrey looped her arms around his neck and hugged him again, hiding her own face against the starch of his collar. “I’m so sorry.”

      “It’s just like Val all over again.” They’d consoled each other the night Valeska Gordeeva Gallagher had been murdered, too. “Only, I never saw Val’s body until the visitation at the funeral home. I saw Gretch—”

      “Shh, Harp. Don’t think of that. Let’s remember how beautiful Gretchen and Val were.”

      “You’re right. You’re always right. I can count on you to say the right thing, can’t I?” Someone jostled them in the crowd and Harper pulled away, straightening his tie, breathing deeply, tightening his jaw to keep the tears from falling again. “She’s not coming back. I’ll never see her smile or hear her laugh again.”

      With that grim pronouncement, the first tears spilled over onto Audrey’s cheeks. She quickly swiped them away. “Harper—”

      “I’d better get back to her parents. The press want them to say something. I’ve been running interference.” He bent down to press a chaste kiss to her forehead. “They’ll be glad to know you’re here.”

      Another tear burned in the corner of her eye. She sniffed as her sinuses began to congest. Harper might have sucked it up, but she needed a minute to compose herself. “I’ll be over to talk to them soon.”

      “Gotta go.”

      He walked away, leaving her shaking. She’d listened and offered comfort without realizing how much she needed it herself. They might not have been the closest of friends anymore, or else she would have known about the engagement—Gretchen had chosen a social path while Audrey had focused on her career—but she had been her oldest friend. And now there was a spot inside her, splitting open, emptying out, leaving grief and regret and helplessness in its place.

      Audrey pressed a fist to her trembling lips and surveyed the crowd. She wasn’t going to lose it here. The size of the gathering had nearly doubled with press and police, people who knew the Cosgroves and curious strangers. She couldn’t expect to hold on to her anonymity much longer, yet she couldn’t afford to be spotted as a bawling wreck—not if she wanted to impress her father and his old-school cronies, not if she intended to win the case she’d been assigned this afternoon and solidify her position in the D.A.’s office.

      But the tears were burning for release. Hugging her arms in front of her, Audrey ducked her head and shuffled through the crowd, trying to draw as little attention as possible as she desperately sought out a private refuge. Her exposed skin would flush with every emotion she was feeling—a telltale, redheaded curse she’d endured her whole life—and there’d be no hiding the ache blooming inside her.

      She shifted directions, deciding she should just get inside her car and drive away. But she stopped when she reached the curb. A camera crew was setting up a remote broadcast post on the opposite side of the street, and they’d recognize her as soon as she walked by.

      Her throat raw from the constriction of emotions she held in check, Audrey turned and followed the sidewalk around the fringe of the gathering and just kept walking. Once she realized the voices from the crowd were fading, she stopped and raised her head, pulling her hair back from her face and tucking it behind her ears. She’d nearly reached the neighbor’s house an eighth of a mile away.

      There was her sanctuary. Not the house, but the red-leafed hedgerows and iron fencing that ran between the two properties. With the press and police focused СКАЧАТЬ