Framed and Burning (Dreamslippers Book 2) by Lisa Brunette

the head and Speck and Santiago in the middle, flanking Jenny. Santiago set a few bagged pieces of evidence in front of him on the table.
    “Ms. Baines—Jenny,” Alvarez began. “Tell us the nature of your relationship with Mick Travers.”
    Jenny cleared her throat. “Mick and I used to be friends. Because of Donnie.”
    “You never slept together?” Alvarez said.
    Jenny looked right at Mick and said, “I wouldn’t sleep with Mick if he paid me. A lot.”
    Mick didn’t respond. Her anger sounded like a thin veneer covering over a wound that would never heal. Her eyes didn’t look mad to him, just very sad. Her thick mascara had stained her face where it ran from her tears. She smelled of weed.
    “Let’s have the evidence,” Alvarez said, motioning to Santiago. He passed the topmost white bag to her, and she opened it and retrieved what Mick recognized as Donnie’s cell phone, perfectly intact.
    “This was in Donnie Hines’s car,” Alvarez said. She gazed at Jenny. “He always left it there, didn’t he?”
    Jenny nodded, tears welling in her eyes. “Otherwise, he’d lose it in his studio. Drop it in a paint can. He did that once.”
    “We found the selfie you took, Jenny. It had been viewed. But you already know that, don’t you?”
    “Yes,” she whispered.
    “We have his cell-phone records,” Alvarez said as gently as she could. “We know you talked to Donnie before he died. You were the last person to talk to him.”
    Jenny broke down. “Please… I didn’t mean…” She covered her face with her hands.
    Mick felt his anger like a flame lit deep in his belly. “What did you say to him?”
    “I want my lawyer,” Jenny said through sobs. She attempted to dry her eyes on her sleeve.
    “We’re going to hold you,” Alvarez informed her. “And yeah, you might want to get that lawyer. You wanted to hurt Donnie the night of his death. Maybe you went too far.”
    With that, Speck rose and gently placed handcuffs on Jenny, whose body was wracked with sobs as he escorted her out.
    Mick didn’t know what to say.  
    Alvarez turned to him. “She didn’t try to get the phone out of his car even though she knew it would incriminate her. What do you think her last words to him were?”

Chapter Seven

    Grace walked in to find her granddaughter and Mick sitting in the living room, talking. Cat still had her purse slung across her body, as if she’d just come in. Mick had the rental car keys in his hands. Grace had hoped they’d help each other somehow with their shared grief, which was part of the reason she’d taken the Sanibel trip and dawdled along the way. They’d obviously been out somewhere together.  
    “We have some big news on the case,” Cat said.  
    “So do I,” said Grace. “But there’s something in the car I need you to help me with first.”
    They followed her outside, where a good-sized painting was jammed in the rear seat of Grace’s rental car. It was covered in cloth, so she didn’t unveil it to them till Cat carried it into the house, where Mick propped it on one of his sawhorse easels in the lanai.
    “Good Lord,” remarked Mick. “You bought one of Candy’s paintings. Why, Priscilla?”
    “I wish you’d call me by my legal name,” Grace complained. “And I’m not sure why I bought it. Something told me to. I’m sure the reason will reveal itself in time. Isn’t it lovely, though? It’s one of her best, I suspect.”
    “Which isn’t saying much,” Mick said.  
    “I should think you’d be more charitable,” Grace reprimanded. Her brother could be entirely too critical of both himself and others. It was his Virgo temperament.
    “I really like this one,” Cat said, the response on her face genuine. “It’s about something. These kids, their world on the other side of the fence. It’s like the artist wished she could step back in time and join them.”
    Grace clapped her hands together. “Oh, Cat! I agree.”
    “It doesn’t challenge