“Just as it should be.” Straightening, Val walked to one side of the landing, where an etched brass plate read GARDEN VIEW ROOM and the crystal doorknob twisted easily. She let Slade step inside the cozy room with its red oak floors, sloping ceilings, and painted tile fireplace. Double doors opened onto a private deck that did, indeed, have a view of the herb and flower garden as well as the roof of the attached cottage Val called home. It was all a little too close for comfort.

“Nice,” he said, then tossed his backpack toward a closet as Bo sniffed the perimeter of the room.

“We have a no-pets policy.”

“You gonna make him sleep in the truck?”

“I should. But I guess I’ll make an exception. He can sleep with me.”

His lips twitched.” If anyone complains, let me know.”

“If anyone complains, I’ll handle it,” she said. “And if you need anything?”

“Yeah?”

“Call Freya.” She walked out of the room with Bo, then closed the door behind her. Slade’s deep-throated chuckle followed her all the way to the first floor.

Freya was at the sink when Val breezed through the swinging door separating the kitchen from the dining area. Stacks of dishes rose from the sink, soaking in sudsy water, and apples simmered on the stove, the scent of cinnamon mingling with the Lysol Freya used to clean the floor earlier in the morning.

She opened the dishwasher and began loading. “You okay?” she asked, looking over her shoulder. “Hey—dog out of the kitchen!” Suds dripped from the freshly washed plate that she stacked on the lower rack.

“Definitely not,” Val said, and with an authoritative snap of her finger, sent Bo to the other side of the door. He left, tail between his legs.

“Oh, God, I feel like an ogre,” Freya said.

“He’ll get over it.”

“I suppose. How about you? Need a drink?”

“It’s not even noon.”

“That’s why Bloody Marys were invented.”

Val shook her head and heard the lonesome call of a whip-poorwill slipping through the open window. Its cry, rare now, caused a shudder to slide through her. “I think I’ll pass. Or at least take a rain check.” For now she had too much to do. She wanted to forward all of Cammie’s e-mails to Montoya, then start her own investigation of her sister’s murder. Her heart twisted again, and she blinked back tears at the realization that, along with the investigation, she would inevitably have to plan a funeral and lay her sister to rest.

If that were possible.

Would Camille find eternal peace and pass through the gates of heaven?

Or was her soul forever damned?

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 14