“Because then there would be a pattern,” Piper said, understanding. “And you wouldn’t get away with murder.”

He smiled at her. “When I was with you, I didn’t want to hurt anyone else. I was happy, and I wasn’t drinking. So I thought, if we could just be together again, everything would be fine.”

Piper shook her head. “Nothing is fine. You killed Grady. And…Jessica?”

A bored shrug. “I fucked her. I mean, I wasn’t fucking you—you with all of your no touch rules. But Jessica liked to get dirty, and she liked it often. I fucked her until she fell for that dumbass Dante. Then I think she started to get suspicious because she was asking me questions so…” A shrug. “I made her go away.”

Nausea rose in her.

“I like the knife. If the ME looks at Jessica close enough, he’ll see Jessica had wounds before she died.” A shrug. “If anyone bothers to look that close. I found that people don’t, not usually. They see what they want to see.”

Like…with Dante. They’d seen a killer who’d been stopped. They hadn’t seen a victim.

“Why was Dante in my gallery?” Piper asked, trying to keep the guy talking.

A smirk. “Because that’s where I put him. Grady wasn’t the only one I lured to town, though I didn’t use your email for Dante. He was so fucking clueless. I kept him tied up at my house, and he spilled all kinds of shit. He had paintings of you and Jessica. Said they were art. Said he was just an artist looking for beauty. Screw that. When I heard about the paintings, I knew he could be the fall guy. I could tie everything up, all nice and neat, and then I could have you.” Fury flashed in his eyes. “But you’re fucking this bastard! You’re messing everything up! It was supposed to just be a lie—Eric said you were with him, but you weren’t. He was your bodyguard, nothing else, it wasn’t supposed to be—”

“How did Dante get the stab wound to his chest?” Eric demanded. He was right behind Piper. She could feel him. Strong and solid. And…

His fingers slid down her arm. Squeezed.