“And here I thought the renovations had been put on hold because of permit issues,” Lane mumbled. “You got what you came for. You should let us go.”

“Make a deal with the devil and you never know when you’ll have to cash in your chips.” Annika smirked. “It would’ve been nice to secure a little more, but I’ve got enough for a nice bungalow on the beach. And in less than thirty-six hours, I’ll be sipping a fruity beverage with my toes in the sand.”

“You’re running?”

“Yes. But not before you give me my painting.”

Lane forced herself not to look at the painting. It was the only piece of leverage she had to get her and Miguel out of this mess. “When I give it to you, you’ll leave. You’ll have everything you want. You won’t need to hurt us.”

“Oh, I wish it were that simple. Now, get up.” Annika motioned with the tip of the gun for Lane to move and she rose to her feet. “It’s sad you didn’t find out the truth about Miguel’s instability until it was too late. Only seconds before Miguel killed you.”

“What?” The pounding in Lane’s ears turned to ringing. “No one will believe he killed me. People know we’re friends.”

“That’ll make it all the more disturbing when they discover that the friend you’ve been defending snapped and killed you. Just like he did with Sydney. Only this time, in his total despair, he turned the gun on himself. Murder-suicide.”

“You won’t get away with it,” Lane said through gritted teeth. “How are you going to explain the gunshot wound in his arm?”

“Trying to earn my father’s respect by attending law school might’ve been a waste of time, but it enlightened me to the advantage of reasonable doubt. And I’m sure you were wily enough to try and stop him but only succeeded in a single misaimed shot to his arm. Pity, really.”

Lane kept her eyes on the gun. She was going to die. This was her last day in this world, and the whole town would believe Miguel killed her and Sydney. The urge to live crashed over her like a wave. She needed to fight the current. “Fight for it.” Ms. Byrdie’s words echoed in her mind.

Lane looked down at Miguel. His head hung limply to one side while blood pooled next to him. His stare vacant. “It’ll be okay, Miguel. You tried to protect me. Protect Sydney. The truth will come out.” Their eyes met. “I believe you.”

Annika clicked her tongue against her teeth. “Well, it’s a shame neither of you will live long enough to prove it. You have a minute to tell me where the painting is before I kill you both.”