"I don't know. I found Sarah like this. She was hit on the head —someone stole the portrait of Haley."
"You're all right?"
Now seeing the spurt of fear in his eyes, she nodded. "I've got to call an ambulance."
"Use the phone in my car. Door's unlocked."
Vic Denardo hung back, staring at the crumpled heap that was Sarah Linwood. "I didn't...I didn't touch her."
Garvin glared back at him. "I'm not flinging accusations."
"It wasn't me. I would never hurt her."
Ignoring him, Garvin headed for Sarah. Annie darted outside and climbed into the front seat of Garvin's car, which was parked directly behind hers, blocking another car in the cul-de-sac. As she dialed, she saw Vic Denardo race outside and assumed he was going to help her. His eyes connected with hers for an instant, then he jumped into her car.
Annie heard the dispatcher come on the line and knew she couldn't go after Denardo, not when Sarah needed an ambulance. He started the engine, went forward, stalled, started it up again, and screeched out into the street. Annie gave the dispatcher the necessary information, even as she watched her car buck down the steep, curving hill, saw Garvin burst outside and lunge down the hill after Vic Denardo. He gave up after a few yards and stomped up to his car, cursing, kicking a loose pebble.
Annie slid out of his car. "The police and ambulance are on their way."
"That bastard Denardo—damn him, I was just beginning to believe he was innocent."
"I wouldn't worry too much."
"Why the hell not?"
She gave him a faltering smile. "Otto's in the car with him."
Garvin left Annie to wait for the police and ambulance and headed down the hill after Vic Denardo. He hadn't gone ten blocks when he spotted Annie's station wagon rammed up against a telephone pole. Its front end was slightly damaged, and the small crowd that had gathered stood back. As he climbed out of his car, Garvin could see why: Otto was in the front seat with Denardo. He headed over and opened up the driver's door.
"Get this goddamned dog off me," Denardo yelled. Otto had his front paws on his lap and his massive, half-shaved head shoved up against Vic's chest. The big, ugly dog's mouth was open, his tongue wagging, looking fierce enough to scare anybody. Denardo's eyes were wild as he looked around at Garvin. "I hate dogs. Get him off me, goddammit!"
"He might not listen to me."
"Well, try, for chrissake!"
"Otto," Garvin said. "Come on, fella. I'll take over now."
The big dog stared up at him with his huge brown eyes. His forehead was wrinkled, giving him a slightly comical look.
"His paws are digging into me," Denardo complained.
"Serves you right. Where the hell'd you think you were going?"
Denardo glanced up at him, his neck stretched back as far as he could get it from Otto's open mouth. "Dog breath. Jesus."
"Vic."
"Okay, okay. Did you see the keys on the table?"
Garvin frowned. "Yes."
"They'd been taken off Sarah's key ring. She couldn't do that, not with her hands."
Vic paused, eyeing Otto. "Go on," Garvin said.
"So Sarah's key to the Linwood house is missing. I remember it, okay? She gave it to me one day to copy, but it's unusual, tough to do."
"Why did she want you to have a copy?"
He licked his lips nervously, Otto showing no sign of backing off. "She wanted me to sneak into her room one night. Thought it'd be—you know, sexy, dangerous, with her father in the same house."
Garvin clenched his fists. "Then that means you could come and go at will. Vic, this isn't helping your cause—"
"I gave it back to her when she got nuts about paying me back the money. Threw it right in her face. Jesus, MacCrae—will you tell the goddamn dog to sit or something?"
"Tell me about the missing key, Vic."
"I didn't take it. I didn't beat the shit out of Sarah. Go ahead, search me. You won't find any key."
"So you're saying whoever assaulted Sarah and stole the painting has it."
He tried stretching his neck back from Otto a fraction more. "Ah-huh."
"Why?"
"Think about it."
Garvin bit off a curse. "This isn't the time for twenty questions, Vic. If you've got something to say—" But he stopped, a thought striking him. He went still. He didn't react. He couldn't. If he did, he wouldn't be able to function. "Whoever stole the painting is trying to set you up again."
"Bastard left the keys out on purpose. Knew I'd see the Linwood key was missing and go to the house."
"But it's been sold—"
"Nah, nah, a buyer's been found, but the paper-work still hasn't been done. It's poetic, you know? Me going back to the scene of the crime. Then I get there, he kills me, blames everything on me. The painting, Sarah, the two murders."
"But you ran instead," Garvin said.
Vic gave a small, tight shake of the head, not enough to spook Otto. "Not this time. I was heading to the Linwood house. I wasn't planning on letting this fuck get away with framing me. Not again."
Garvin inhaled deeply, barely able to think. "Haley..."
"She knew who it was. That's why she went back to the house."