Page 105 of Accidental Murder

“Laughter is very important.” Kayla tried to remember the last time she’d had a good chuckle.

A few feet from the BART entrance, Veronica screamed at the top of her lungs. “You, you, you!” She grabbed Kayla’s hand and dragged her to the picture window for City Lights Gallery. “It’s you!”

Through the window, Kayla took in the sketch clipped to an easel inside the venue and sucked in a tiny breath. The face in the sketch did look like her, though there was too much raw emotion in the eyes.

“Go inside.” Veronica yanked Kayla’s hand. “Go, go, go.”

Kayla’s breath caught in her chest when she saw a poster to the right of the front door announcing the San Francisco debut of Peter Vaughn’s latest collection.The last time she’d seen Peter was at Ashley’s real memorial service. After that, neither had contacted the other.

By now he must have fallen for a wonderful woman, she thought. Someone who would attend to his every brushstroke.

Veronica pulled again. “Please? Inside!”

Kayla shrugged. “Sure.” She could at least say hello. She cautioned Veronica as they entered, “Stay with me,” but the moment they passed over the threshold, the girl broke free and scurried across the studio to a man standing on a ladder. He was hanging a painting.

“Kis for Kayla,” Veronica shouted to the man. She jerked on his pant leg.

“Well, hello,” he said looking down. “Who are you?”

“Veronica!”

Kayla’s pulse surged as she realized the man was Peter. He had always been handsome, but he had become even more so. His body and face were chiseled, and his eyes filled with an electric energy.

“Kayla, he’s painting you.” Veronica pointed from one painting to another.

Something stirred within Kayla. Hope? Possibility? No. Not a chance. She tamped down the feeling and shook her head. “That’s not me, Veronica. That’s my sister Ashley.”

Peter clambered off the ladder, set the painting and hammer near the wall, and drew near. So near Kayla could feel heat emanating from his body. “No,” he murmured. “She’s right. It’s you.”

“Told you!” Veronica beamed.

Peter whispered, “I couldn’t get you out of my mind. I’ve been drawing you over and over. See the eyes?” He motioned to the painting he was preparing to hang. “There are no specks an iridologist can read.”

A shiver ran down Kayla’s spine.

The woman in the picture didn’t have short hair like she’d first assumed. It was long and pulled back, as if in a clip. Since the age of ten, Ashley hadn’t worn her hair long. Plus the face in the picture was stripped of makeup. Never in Ashley’s adult life had she gone without at least a swath of lipstick.

“Strong powerful Kayla.” Veronica placed her hands on her hips. “I approve.”

The girl was right. Peter had captured something Kayla hadn’t believed she would ever possess—confidence.

She faced Peter, worried her trembling voice would betray her feelings. “How’ve you been?”

“Pretty good. I’ve got a new show and lots of interested buyers.” He offered an impish grin. “I’ve been meaning to call dozens of times, but I wanted to respect your privacy. I’d always hoped you would call me.”

Kayla swallowed hard, not sure she should ask the next question but certain if she didn’t, she would regret it the rest of her life. “Do you have time for a cup of coffee?”

“Yes.”

“I want Ghirardelli ice cream.” Veronica waved her hand.

“Ghirardelli it is. And coffee.” Peter opened his arms wide.

Kayla stepped into his embrace, and a sense of coming home comforted her.

“Ice cream,” Veronica repeated.

Peter broke free from Kayla and stooped to Veronica’s eye level. “Let’s go.” He stood to his full height, signaled to a woman in black that he was leaving, and held out a hand for Kayla. “We’ll take it one day at a time, deal?”

She clasped his hand. “Deal.”