Wide, shocked. Accusing. Defiant, even as her blood dripped her life onto the white tile. He’d left her for Nadine to find, so she’d know what would happen to her if she defied him. Instead, she’d run away.
His hands curled into fists as a red mist formed before his eyes. It had to be Nadine. Kerry Anne was dead. He’d watched them wheel her lifeless, naked body away. Made all the arrangements to put her in the ground since Norma Jean was, as usual, too drunk to cope.
“Peter? Are you all right?” Audrey’s face came between him and Kerry Anne.
“I’m fine.” He lifted his arm to shove her out of the way, but someone grabbed it, the fingers biting into his flesh like a vise.
“You’ve cut your hand,” Stern said, interposing himself between Harding and Audrey.
Harding looked down, saw blood and
