“I told you,” Eric’s voice was a low growl as he frowned at the detective. “Piper isn’t the one who is the threat. She’s the one the bastard is after. And, yeah, I get that you have your techs, Layla, but we both know they are nowhere near my skill level. Give me access, and I can prove that Piper didn’t send any emails to Grady. The real killer did. He lured the guy here, and then he murdered Grady—”

“Tortured him first,” the detective corrected. “Tortured, then murdered.”

Piper sucked in a breath. “Tortured?”

“Um.” The detective’s dark stare was watchful. “Your former lover was stabbed eleven times. That’s a whole lot of rage.” And her gaze slid to Eric, then Ben. “Know anyone who might be carrying around that kind of rage? That kind of jealousy?”

Okay, so what, now the cop was saying that Eric or Ben had committed the crime? “No.” Piper’s shoulders straightened as a cold fury filled her. Bad enough that the woman had been accusing her, but to turn on Eric and Ben? “Hell, no.” Rage shook her words. “They didn’t do this, so don’t even suggest it. They are helping me. Some sick prick is out there, he broke into my house—two times—and the cops ignored me. He set my house on fire! He destroyed my artwork by pouring red paint on the canvases in my gallery—”

“Yeah, about that…” The detective opened a manila file that she’d brought into the room. “I just got a report back on the analysis from the crime scene at your gallery. I took the liberty of helping myself to the file, thinking it might help with my homicide case, and you know what? That wasn’t just paint on your canvases. It was blood.”

“What?”

“And I’m betting that blood will match up to Grady Fox. Because eleven stab wounds…that will sure generate a lot of pain and suffering and a whole lot of blood.”

Don’t pass out. Don’t. She could feel icy pinpricks in her face. Why couldn’t she just wake up from this nightmare?

“You sure you know those two so well?” The detective gestured to Ben and then to Eric. “You think they are your protectors, don’t you?”

“I think they aren’t insane madmen who would stab a person eleven times and then take his blood and pour it on my paintings.” What in the hell? “Yeah, I feel pretty good saying that’s not them.”

The detective gave a faint smile. It didn’t reach her eyes. “I thought I knew Eric pretty well, too. But then I found out that he likes to circumvent the PD. I guess you can never know someone well enough, hmm?”

Piper’s temples were pounding. “I want to know more about Jessica’s accident.”