The Collector by Nora Roberts Read Free Book Online Page B

today. We knew her a little.”
    â€œYou knew Blondie?” Wincing—the nickname seemed so wrong now. “I mean Sage Kendall.”
    â€œA little. She came into the gallery a few times. Actually bought a couple of very nice pieces. Not my sale—I didn’t work with her, but I was introduced. I didn’t put it together. Even when they mentioned West Chelsea. I didn’t hear the specific apartment building, if they released that.”
    â€œI don’t know. They have by now. I can see people down there, taking pictures. And some TV crews have done stand-ups in front of the building.”
    â€œIt’s awful. A terrible thing to happen, and awful for you, sweetie. They hadn’t released the name of the guy who pushed her, then killed himself, not this morning. I haven’t checked since.”
    â€œOliver Archer, aka Mr. Slick. I met his brother at the police station.”
    â€œWell, that’s . . . awkward.”
    â€œIt probably should’ve been, but it wasn’t.” She sat on the floor of the bathroom, carefully sanding some shiny spots on the runners of one of the vanity drawers. It kept sticking, but she could fix that.
    â€œHe bought me a lemonade,” she continued, “and I told him what I’d seen.”
    â€œYou . . . you had a drink with him? For God’s sake, Lila, for all you know he and his brother are both homicidal maniacs or made men, or serial killers who worked as a team. Or—”
    â€œWe had the drink at the coffee shop across from the police station, and there were at least five cops in there while we did. I felt terrible for him, Julie. You could see him struggling to come to grips with it, just trying to make some sense out of what’s just not sensible. He doesn’t believe his brother killed Sage, or himself, and he actually made a pretty good case against.”
    â€œLila, nobody wants to believe their brother’s capable of this.”
    â€œI get that, I do.” She blew lightly on the runners to clear off the dust from the sanding. “And that was my first reaction, but like I said, he made a pretty good case.”
    She slid the drawer back in, out, in. Nodded in satisfaction. Everything should be so easy.
    â€œHe wants to come over here, see his brother’s apartment from this perspective.”
    â€œHave you lost your mind?”
    â€œJust wait. He suggested I have somebody here with me, and I wouldn’t consider it otherwise. But before I decide anything, I’m going to Google him. Just make sure he doesn’t have any nefarious deeds in his past, any wives who died under mysterious circumstances, or other siblings—he said he had twelve, half and step.”
    â€œSeriously?”
    â€œI know. I can’t imagine. But I should make sure none of them have a shady past or whatever.”
    â€œTell me you didn’t give him the address where you’re staying.”
    â€œNo, I didn’t give him the address, or my number.” Her brows drew together as she reloaded her makeup in the drawer. “I’m not stupid, Julie.”
    â€œNo, but you’re too trusting. What’s his name—if he gave you his
real
name. I’ll Google him right now.”
    â€œOf course he gave me his real name. Ashton Archer. It does sound a little made up, but—”
    â€œWait a minute. You said Ashton Archer? Tall, rangy, blow-up-your-skirt gorgeous? Green eyes, a lot of wavy black hair?”
    â€œYes. How do you know that?”
    â€œBecause I know him. He’s an artist, Lila, a good one. I manage an art gallery, a good one—and we’re his main venue in New York. Our paths have crossed a number of times.”
    â€œI knew the name was familiar, but I thought it was because I had the brother’s name on my mind. He’s the one who did that painting of the woman in the meadow playing the violin—ruined castle, full