Page 20 of When You're Lost

Finn’s suspicion about Harrison only deepened.“You think Mary’s too close to see any of this?”

“Yeah,” David whispered, sounding worried.“Harrison can be charming to her.But behind closed doors… he can blow up.I’m concerned.And with these murders connected to the gallery, I can't say I haven't considered that it could be connected to him or someone else here.”

Eleanor nodded sympathetically.“We appreciate the warning.If you see or hear anything that suggests Harrison might be… beyond just temperamental, please call us.”She rummaged for one of Finn’s business cards and handed it to David, who accepted it with shaky fingers.

Finn offered a reassuring look.“We’ll keep an eye on him.Don’t lose sleep over it.”

David nodded, then turned to go, but Finn stopped him with one more question.“David—did Harrison have arguments with anyone else, aside from Victoria?”

David hesitated, swallowing.“Yes.I heard raised voices from his office a few times.One was definitely with Edmund Garner...That's why I was shocked when you said he'd been killed.I didn’t catch details, but Garner left swearing under his breath.That was about a week ago.”

Finn frowned.“So that’s two suspicious rows—Victoria and Edmund.Both victims now.”

Eleanor shared a grim look with him.Finn cleared his throat.“You said there were at least two.Who else?”

“Right, sorry.”David took a breath, gaze flicking to the gallery doors.“Just three nights ago, a professor named Daniel Townsend came in after hours.He’s an art professor who sometimes helps Harrison authenticate pieces.I overheard a commotion—sound of things being knocked over—and then Townsend stormed out.It was late, maybe 10 PM.Harrison looked furious.”

Eleanor’s eyes narrowed.“Do you have Townsend’s address or contact info?We should check on him.”

David glanced at Finn, anxiety etched in his features.“Yes, but I’m sure you could find him at the Wilhelm Institute where he often teaches, though I should have his home address.Why?You think he’s in danger?”

“Possibly,” Finn said.“We have to consider he might be the next target.Or at least might have a clue we need.”

A flicker of alarm crossed David’s face.“All right, I’ll do it.I’ll call or email you once I have the details.But please… keep me out of trouble.”

Finn offered a half-smile.“We’ll be discreet.”He patted David on the shoulder.“Thanks, David.We appreciate the cooperation.But you mustn't tell anyone about this conversation.I don't want it getting back to Harrison.”

The man nodded, then hurried back inside, shooting a final worried look over his shoulder.Finn and Eleanor stepped away from the gallery entrance, the bustle behind them fading into the muted city sounds.

“Looks like Harrison is knee-deep in conflict with multiple people,” Finn muttered, glancing at the folded list of paintings in his hand.“Victoria, Edmund, Townsend.All potentially threatened by him.”

Eleanor sighed.“Yes.Meanwhile, we still don’t have any definitive proof linking him to the actual murders.But this is a disturbing connection.”

Finn stared up at the gray sky.“We’d better track down Daniel Townsend quickly.If Harrison was furious with him, Townsend might be a prime candidate for the killer’s next pose.”

Eleanor nodded, checking her phone.“Agreed.”She caught Finn’s eye.“And if Harrison is innocent, he’s certainly bad at appearing so.”

Finn gave a rueful snort.“He sure is.Either he’s guilty, or he’s just an arrogant ass with terrible timing.”

They shared a tense smile as they walked away from the gallery, stepping into the drizzle that had begun to fall.Finn’s mind churned through the new leads: more reasons to suspect Harrison, a new name—Daniel Townsend—likely in the killer’s cross-hairs, and the puzzle of which painting the murderer might re-enact next.

CHAPTER NINE

Finn pressed the accelerator a bit harder than he normally would, the late-afternoon sun dipping low on the horizon behind them.The roads were emptying now, with rush hour ended, leaving only a faint orange glow in the sky.Beyond the front windscreen, in the gathering dusk, fields blurred by on either side, dark shapes under a faint haze of twilight.Next to him, Eleanor Matthews gripped the door handle, her expression tense.She said nothing, but her posture made it clear she wasn't comfortable with how fast he was driving.

“Almost there,” Finn said, glancing at the directions scrawled on a piece of paper.They had hustled out of Blackthorn Gallery less than half an hour ago, after David Smythe shared that Professor Daniel Townsend might be at risk—and the address he’d provided was thirty miles south, on a rural lane near the outskirts of Windsor.

“I don't think you should drive so fast!”Eleanor said.“He's not in imminent danger, the killer was too busy killing Edmund Garner.”

“Still, I'd like to get there ahead of time.”

She gave him a sidelong look, pushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.“I know.Just… watch the corners.This old Corvette doesn’t exactly handle like a new car, does it?”

The remark might have been lighthearted in other circumstances, but her voice quivered with genuine worry.Finn couldn’t blame her.The sun was almost gone, and the two-lane road offered little visibility.However, the sense of urgency burned brighter inside him: Victoria Palmer, Edmund Garner, and now the possibility of a third victim, all connected to those staged murders.They had gleaned from David that Townsend and Harrison Blackthorn had a heated argument three nights ago.That was enough to make Finn’s gut feel like they were close to a suspect.

“We’ll be fine,” he said, forcing calm.“Look, we’re pulling onto his road.”

Sure enough, an unpaved drive appeared on the right, partially concealed by overgrown hedgerows.Finn slowed the car, turning onto the gravel.Twigs and stones crunched under the tires.The beginning glow of twilight etched the silhouette of a modest country house up ahead—a two-story structure with a steep roof and a scattering of tall trees behind it.Lights glimmered in a few windows, but something about the place looked quiet, almost deserted.

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