Page 142 of Another Girl Lost

I was released an hour later. When I stepped into the crowded lobby, Luke was waiting for me. He didn’t say anything as he guided me out of the building and across the lot to his car. Silent, we got into the car, and he didn’t speak until we parked in front of my building. “Why are we here? Your apartment is a crime scene.”

“I want to show you something.” I got out of the car, walked to the front door, and tore the seal on my back door.

He followed quickly. “I am not seeing this.”

I unlocked the doors. When we were inside, I locked them.

His gaze skimmed the locks on the doors, but he said nothing.

I guided him to my art studio, flipped on a light, and uncovered the painting I’d been working on for the last couple of days. He stood back and stared at it. “I just started this one. I’ve been painting this face for years. I think this is the fifty-sixth version of it. I gave the last painting like this to Margo.”

“What do you meangave?”

“I left it in her apartment. The desk clerk let me in.”

He muttered an oath. “You entered her apartment without permission.”

“I’d told her I’d give her a piece of art. We didn’t agree on when.”

He faced me. “When did you tell her this?”

“We had drinks a few days ago. It was her idea, not mine. She’s moved in across the street from me. Her unit overlooks my place. She came to me.”

“Or she moved into a new apartment and her new neighbor began to fixate on her.”

“It could be spun that way.”

“Is Margo the woman you saw when you fell off the rock wall and also bolted from the restaurant?”

“Yes.”

His lips pursed as if he were holding back comment.

I shifted my focus back to the painting, wondering why I hadn’t seen the truth earlier. “I’ve never been able to get the eyes right on allmy versions of Della. I always painted her as a kind of victim. But she wasn’t a victim. She willingly moved in with Tanner. She knew about Sandra Taylor, and I think she tried to save her by luring me into the van. But Sandra vanished, and when Della ended up with a ringside seat to my suffering, she realized Tanner was a monster she couldn’t control. Something in her changed, and she started planning her escape. Maybe she hoped I’d escape Tanner at the diner; maybe she didn’t care as long as she had time to get out of the house and set off Tanner’s explosives. Either way, when Tanner and I left the house, she set the fires and vanished.”

“Why didn’t you tell me all this before?”

“Because it sounds outlandish. It sounds like I’m obsessed with a past I desperately can’t release. I want to live a normal life. But knowing she was out there made it impossible.”

He glanced at me and then back at the painting. “It’s a haunting image.”

“That’s how I remember Della.” I folded my arms, suddenly feeling raw and vulnerable. “She wasn’t nearly as polished as she is now. She had long dark hair. Now she’s cut it short, dyed it, lost weight, and had her nose changed. But it’s her. Test her DNA against all the samples found on Sandra, Tiffany, and Lynn.”

“You said this is the fifty-sixth version. Where are the other paintings?”

“I burned them. It’s turned into a crazy ritual. I paint, obsess over remembering, and then when I can’t look at the image anymore, I burn it.”

His fingers flexed. “Tell me it’s a controlled burn.”

That prompted a slight smile. “Metal trash cans are a favorite. I’m odd, but not stupid.”

“Why did you try to kill Officer Larsen?”

“When she came toward me, I saw Della. I felt trapped. And I struck out in defense.”

“She’s an officer of the law who found you with a potential victim.”

“How did she know to come to my warehouse? What made her suspect that Lynn was here? I’d been with you the entire night. And then suddenly she appears, gun drawn, and finds Lynn tied to my bed.”

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