Deadly Visions (Nightmare Hall) by Diane Hoh

Author:Diane Hoh [Hoh, Diane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781480421974
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 2013-08-13T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

“THAT LOOKS LIKE SOMETHING you’d do, Sam,” Joseph said to Samantha; pointing at the water-color in Rachel’s trembling hands. “It’s got your touch. All those dull, weak pastels. And it is a watercolor, your specialty.”

“Who are you kidding, Joseph?” Samantha said, leaning over Rachel to study the small painting. “You’ve never paid enough attention to my work to have any idea where my real talent lies.”

“What talent?” Joseph murmured.

Rachel hurt for Samantha, although Sam herself seemed unperturbed by Joseph’s comment. She never even glanced at him. “Everyone’s a critic,” she said dryly, and then tapped a finger on the watercolor and said to Rachel, “It’s just a painting, Rachel. It can’t hurt you. But I don’t blame you for being upset about the calendar. That’s pretty creepy.”

“And Joseph’s right,” Paloma said, “that page is from the calendar in the lobby of the art building.”

“Which means,” Aidan pointed out, “that any one of hundreds of people who viewed the exhibit could have helped himself to that page. No one would have noticed someone pocketing a calendar page.”

Rachel wasn’t listening. She was staring at the painting. Flowers … so many flowers … like at a funeral.

YOU WILL NEVER SEE ANOTHER MONDAY.

Who had stolen her purse? Kicked those boxes out from under her? Locked that closet door?

Rachel felt as if her brain was rapidly disintegrating. What was left of it remembered that she had put something in her purse before she’d climbed up on those boxes. What was it? What had she confiscated?

Oh. A smock. Aidan’s smock. Because of … because of the paint stains, the colors.

She slid her hand into the purse again, fumbling around, even though she was certain now that she wouldn’t find what she was seeking.

Because it wasn’t there.

Aidan’s smock was gone.

She glanced up at him, her heart denying what her brain was thinking. The truth was, Aidan could have painted this simple water-color with one hand tied behind his back. And only Aidan would have any reason to remove that smock, with its telltale paint blobs, from her purse.

“What’s the matter?” he asked when he noticed that she was staring at him. “Why do I all of a sudden feel like I have two heads?”

Rachel’s silence gave her away.

Aidan’s eyes narrowed. He said quietly, intensely, “You just put me on your list of suspects, didn’t you? You think I sent you that calendar page? Why would you think that, Rachel?”

“I never said I thought that, Aidan.” Then, boldly, “I mean, there isn’t any reason why you would, is there?”

Aidan looked as if she’d slapped him.

“Rachel!” Paloma gasped, clearly shocked. “How could you suspect Aidan?”

Samantha, however, said nothing, which Rachel found interesting. If anyone were going to rush to Aidan’s defense, she would have expected it to be Sam. They seemed to be such close friends. Maybe Sam knew something about Aidan that no one else did.

“I would just like to remind you,” Aidan said icily, “that while you were supposedly trapped in that supply closet, I was downstairs in the lobby making small talk about art with two professors and a teaching assistant.

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