Free An Image of Death by Libby Fischer Hellmann Page A

don’t want to be interviewed. You’re right. I did survive.” He pulled his hand away. “And I made a promise to myself never to be in that situation again. And I haven’t. But don’t tell me you understand, because you don’t. This guy Bennett probably can. And you remember Dory; she could, too. But not you.”
    I felt like I’d been slapped.
    “Your life is easy. You do what you please, go where you want. You take it for granted people are there for you. And they are. But that’s not how it is for most of us. You just don’t know.”
    “No,” I said, my voice tight. “I guess I don’t.”
    ***
    Our lovemaking that night was passionate and angry. He dug his fingers into me and pounded me with hard, bruising thrusts. He cried out when he came, then pulled out and turned away. I lay awake afterward, spent and sore, listening to him fall into a restless sleep.

C HAPTER N INE
    I woke up with the sheet knotted around my legs. Drowsy, snug, and warm in my own private Idaho, I wondered what had jarred me awake. When the doorbell rang again, I thought about the frigid winter air stinging my skin and decided Rachel could get it. Then I remembered she wasn’t home. Grumbling, I threw off the quilt, wrapped myself in a robe, and headed downstairs.
    Georgia Davis was at the door. Her face and voice were as cold as the ice rimming the windowsill. “You want to tell me why you called Mike Dolan about working on one of your tapes?”
    My stomach clutched. “You’d—you’d better come in.”
    But she just stood there, arms folded across her chest. “What are you trying to pull here, lady?”
    “I—I’m sorry…this is all a huge misunderstanding.”
    “I’m listening.”
    David called down from upstairs, his voice stuffy with sleep. “Is everything all right?”
    “Fine,” I said. “Go back to bed.”
    An irritated silence followed. Did he sense I’d gotten involved in a “situation” again—after I promised I wouldn’t? Or was it something else? Nothing like having the whole world ticked off at you. It was only nine in the morning, but I had a craving for chocolate.
    I turned back to Davis. “I—I made a copy of the tape. Before I brought it to you.”
    “Why?”
    “I thought…I didn’t know you would be handling the case. I thought I’d better have my own copy in case you—I mean the police—decided not to pursue it, or it got lost or something.”
    “Or something?”
    “I was also thinking I should have a record of it—in case—well—in case—”
    “In case something happened to you?”
    “Right.”
    “So you made your own copy.”
    “I was—I was going to tell you.”
    “When? After it showed up on the ten o’clock news?”
    “I wouldn’t do that.”
    She eyed me suspiciously. But then, why should she believe me? I was a video producer, and I used to work in television.
    “I’d never go to the media. And I tried to tell you about it the other night.” The door was still open, and I started to shiver. “Please come in.”
    After a moment, she did. I closed the door and motioned her into the kitchen. She didn’t move.
    “No more bullshit. You wanted the tape so you could start playing around with it yourself, didn’t you?”
    I didn’t answer.
    “I want it,” she said. “And any other copies that exist. And just so you hear me loud and clear, I’ve already talked to the states attorney. I can get a court order in about an hour.”
    I nodded. As I went into the family room to pull it out of my bag, I heard David shuffling around upstairs. How much had he overheard? I backtracked to the hall and handed it over.
    She slipped it inside an evidence bag. “You’re skirting right up to the edge, you know. You can’t be out there freelancing. You could be jeopardizing my investigation. The last thing I need are problems with chain of custody.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    She shook her head. “O’Malley warned me about you.”
    I felt like a kid who’s been sent to the