Chapter 3Calvin swiped his credit card, tapping it impatiently against the edge of the reader as he watched the cashier finish bagging his art supplies. They weren’t what he wanted. Wal-Mart wasn’t exactly a cultural mecca. But the pencils and sketchpad he’d purchased would more than suffice until he got home. Then he’d transfer everything to the proper medium, and Matthew Soto would be immortalized forever.
Matthew Soto. A mystery if he ever saw one.
He thanked the cashier politely and strolled toward the exit, but his thoughts were elsewhere. They lingered on sad, brown eyes, too soft to be a murderer’s. They dwelled on long, work-rough fingers, too hot to be entirely natural. Broad shoulders. His quiet voice. Matthew was nothing like he would expect to find in Watson Park, nothing lik
