Page 14 of D for Dead

Probably not, but they were going to need to talk to her anyway because, killer or not, Amy Gallaty was somehow involved.

5

If there was one thing Amy loved, it was her friends.

The moment she had called her best pal, Heidi, and told her about the graffiti on her windshield, her friends had rallied round; and they were all now gathered in her apartment, Heidi pouring her wine, Gage making her laugh and Fran cooking her dinner.

Heidi was her oldest friend from college, while Fran and Gage she knew through work. As an only child who had lost her parents to an automobile accident when she was in her early twenties, Amy regarded them as her family.

Fran had brought tortillas and chicken and, using other ingredients in Amy’s refrigerator, was making up enchiladas in the kitchen, while Huckleberry sat patiently watching her, eyes pleading and tongue drooling. The smells were drifting through to the living room, reminding Amy she hadn’t eaten since breakfast and was pretty hungry.

‘Next time you do a signing, I think one of us should go with you,’ Gage suggested, glancing up at Heidi, who was pacing the balcony, cigarette in hand. ‘In case psycho bitch decides to show again.’

Heidi glanced up at Amy, a look of guilt on her face. ‘I’m sorry, honey, I should have been there.’

Amy set down her wine glass. ‘Heidi. We’ve been through this already. It’s not your fault. I

never asked anyone to go with me.’

Because you didn’t think there would be a problem.

Truth be known, she was rattled. She could’ve handled Nadine showing up and kicking off, but the graffiti had been a step too far. It made it personal.

Maybe she should be flattered her characters meant so much to her fans.

Screw that. Nadine is a nutjob, pure and simple.

‘I still should have been there.’ Heidi was beating herself up. She’d had the day off and had gone shopping, not knowing her friend was going to need her.

Gage slipped his arm round Amy. ‘What’s happened has happened. Next time one of us will be there.’ He glanced over at Fran, flipping chicken in the frying pan. ‘How much longer until dinner? We’re starving over here.’

Fran glanced up and grinned, enjoying herself in Amy’s little open-plan kitchen, towel over her shoulder, generous glass of Chablis in her free hand.

‘Another fifteen minutes.’ She glanced at Huckleberry. ‘Behave yourself buddy and maybe you’ll get lucky.’

Huckleberry grinned, seeming to understand what Fran had said, then woofed loudly as the buzzer sounded.

Amy glanced round as the collie bolted for the door, wondering who it could be when her friends were with her. Getting up from the couch, she followed Huckleberry to the door, expecting to open it to a cold-caller and readying herself to tell them in the politest possible terms to get lost.

What she wasn’t expecting to find was the guy from the park standing on the other side, a pretty dark-haired woman beside him.

Huckleberry recognised him instantly and was on his hind legs, woofing his excitement.

The guy glanced at the dog, stroking his head, then back at Amy, his expression one of surprise, as he too recognised her.

‘You’re Amy Gallaty?’

‘Yes… why?’

‘You know each other?’ This was from the woman standing beside him, who was looking equally surprised and curious.

Girlfriend? Wife?

‘Not exactly,’ he muttered. Amy got the feeling he wasn’t too impressed to see her.

‘We ran into each other in the park last night,’ she elaborated to the woman. ‘My dog got off his leash, knocked him on his ass.’

‘Really?’ This had the dark-haired woman smiling.