Picture Me Dead

Jan drew the napkin from her and shuddered. “What are we going to do, Ashley? You’ve got to let it drop.” She gazed down at the sketch again. “Thank God I was busy looking at pants that would look good on people with fat thighs,” she said, trying to draw a smile. “I’m haunted just by the picture.”

 

 

“You should have stayed in art school,” Karen said. “A drawing on a napkin…and it’s just like the real thing. Please, Ashley…”

 

Ashley crumpled up the napkin. “Sorry,” she murmured guiltily. Her friends were right. There was nothing she could do about what had happened.

 

And she was destined to see much worse during her career as a cop.

 

“You haven’t really given up on art, have you?” Jan asked her. “I mean, you’re good. Really good. I’ve never seen anyone who can sketch people so well.”

 

“I’ll never give it up,” Ashley said. “I love to draw. It’s just that…”

 

“She likes the concept of a paycheck,” Karen told Jan with a sigh.

 

“You could have gotten a paycheck as an artist. I know it,” Jan said.

 

“Art school just cost too much,” Ashley said.

 

“You didn’t take that scholarship because you were too afraid Nick would want to help you and he couldn’t afford it,” Karen mused sagely.

 

“Nick would never stop me from pursuing any dream,” Ashley said a little defensively. And it was true. She knew Nick had been disappointed when she turned down the scholarship that had been offered to her by a prestigious Manhattan art college. But even with the scholarship, the money necessary to live and study in New York—even in a dorm—would have been too much. She could have gotten a part-time job, but it wouldn’t have been enough. Nick would have tried to help, but with tourism suffering, he would probably have just about sent himself into bankruptcy.

 

“Look, I love art, but I always wanted to be a cop. My dad was a cop, remember?”

 

“None of us really remembers,” Karen said. “It was so long ago.”

 

“I remember that I loved my folks and admired my dad,” Ashley said. “And police work is fascinating.”

 

“Yeah, real fascinating. You’re going to be in a patrol car, trying to chase down speeders, like Karen,” Jan said.

 

“Cute, Jan, really cute,” Karen said.

 

“Sorry.”

 

“Honest to God, I’m doing exactly what I want to be doing,” Ashley said.

 

“So, horses or dancing tonight?” Karen said.

 

“Let’s just flip a coin—we’ll fit them both in,” she promised. She crumpled up the wrapper from her sandwich along with the napkin on which she’d been drawing. “Ready to hit the road?”

 

“Want me to drive?” Karen asked.

 

“Good God, no!” Jan piped in. “She’ll be arresting you—or giving you a warning speech, at the very least—from the passenger seat. Hey, can you write a ticket if you’re sitting next to someone who’s driving your own car?”

 

“Jan,” Karen said firmly. “I’m going to throttle you in a minute. Your precious little throat will be wounded, and you’ll sound like a dying ’gator rather than a songbird.”

 

“Hey, you heard that—she’s threatening me!” Jan said.

 

“Oh, will you two please stop?” Ashley begged, a smile twitching her lips.

 

“Seriously, want one of us to drive?” Karen said.

 

Ashley shook her head. “No, I’m fine.”

 

As far as driving went, she was fine.

 

But…

 

It felt as if the body on the highway would be etched into her mind forever.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 2

 

 

 

 

Nick was behind the bar, washing glasses, when Sharon Dupre returned. She hurried in, hoping he wasn’t going to ask about where she’d been. She had said that she would arrive to help with the lunch crowd, but she hadn’t managed to get back in time.

 

He didn’t question her. She should have known he wouldn’t, she thought as he looked up at her with his customary grin. Nick wasn’t the jealous type. If she wasn’t enjoying his company and wanted out, she was welcome to leave at any time. If she was happy with him, well, then, she should be there, and he would be delighted.

 

“Hey, how was your day?” he asked.

 

“Great.”

 

“Sell anything?”

 

“Showed two expensive places, but I don’t have any bites—yet.”

 

“It takes time.”

 

“Has Ashley called? Did the girls reach their hotel yet?”

 

Nick shook his head. “She won’t call me today unless there’s a problem. I’ll probably hear from her tomorrow. Hey, she loved the cookies. She’ll tell you herself, when she gets back.”

 

“Good, I’m glad.”

 

She set her purse down behind the bar and gave him a kiss, wishing she didn’t feel so nervous. It wasn’t like her. She was never uneasy. Never. She was always in control.

 

She started to leave, but he pulled her back, giving her a stronger, much more suggestive kiss. When he released her, she flushed. “Sandy Reilly just came in, and he’s staring at us!”

 

“Sandy’s as old as the hills, and we’re stirring memories of adventure and excitement and raw sexual thrills for him,” Nick replied.

 

“Chill, you two,” Sandy called out. “And break it up. Let’s have some service around this place. The old-as-the-hills guy has perfect hearing, and he needs a beer.”