Amandapointed to the wall next to the delivery bay. There was something carved intothe stone. RL loves TJ.

    'Iwonder if they're still in love,' Amanda said.

    Lucydoubted it. She didn't believe in true love. 'Well, it is written instone.'

    Amandalaughed. 'I think that was probably done back when this place was apartments.'

    'Whenwas this an apartment building?'

    'Ithink up until maybe 1999. Something like that,' she said. 'I think it was kindof a famous place, too.'

    'Howso?'

    .'Well,mostly because of that little girl. You know about that, don't you?'

    'Whatare you talking about?'

    'I'mnot a hundred percent sure what happened - you could ask Sergio. He'd definitelyknow.'

    Sergiowas an older guy who worked in maintenance. He had been with the building for along time.

    'But,from what I understand, a little girl got killed here,' Amanda added.

    Lucyshuddered. 'What do you mean, killed? Like an accident or something?'

    'No.Like killed killed.'

    'Whatare you saying? She was murdered?'

    'Yeah.'Amanda wiggled her fingers at Lucy, made spooky Halloween noises. 'They say herghost walks these very halls.'

    'Stopit.'

    Amandagiggled. 'You're so easy.'

    'Howold was the girl?'

    Amandashrugged, peeled off another section of tangerine, offered it to Lucy. Lucydeclined. 'Not sure. But not too old, though. Ten or eleven, maybe.'

    'Howdid she ... you know.'

    'Howdid she die?' Amanda shrugged. 'No idea. But I don't think they ever caught theguy that did it.'

    Ascreepy as Lucy already felt today, the feeling had just doubled.

    'Ithink it's one of the cases this bunch of nut jobs who are staying here thisweek are investigating,' Amanda said. 'Or talking about investigating. God onlyknows what they do.'

    Lucywas speechless for the moment. Amanda stood up, threw her tangerine peels inthe nearby Dumpster.

    'So,are we on?' Amanda asked.

    At firstLucy didn't know what Amanda was talking about. Then she remembered. She hadtold Amanda that she would go out with her for a drink at Fluid, a dance clubon Fourth Street, on Halloween Eve Night - always a crazy time in Philly, tosay the least - and, according to Amanda, a ton of cute college guys alwaysshowed up. This year they were probably all going to be dressed up like RobertPattinson.

    'Yeah,'Lucy said. 'Why not?'

    'Awesome.And you are definitely going to let me do something with your hair. We've gotto babe you up, chica. Maybe get you laid.'

    'Amanda.'

    Amandagiggled. 'I'll be by your mansion around eight.'

    'Coolbeans.'

    Amandawalked back into the hotel but Lucy stayed put. She couldn't stop thinkingabout the little girl Amanda had mentioned. Murdered. At the place Lucyworked. She had to find out more about it, although she wasn't sure why.Maybe because there was a dead zone in her own life. Maybe it was because forthe past nine years she had felt a dark kinship with all young girls who hadbeen touched by evil. They were her sisters.

    Theysay her ghost walks these very halls.

    Thanks,Amanda, Lucy thought. Thanks a lot.

Chapter 29

    Doylestownwas a quaint township of about eight thousand in Bucks County. The Ulrich ArtSupply store was a standalone building, a converted ivy-veined coach house onNorth Main Street, across the road from the Mercer Square Shopping Center. Thefront windows held a display of paints, canvases, brushes, easels. Halloweendecorations ringed the window and door.

    Onthe way to Doylestown Jessica and Byrne decided not to approach the store inany official capacity. Because this was the only store within reach of the citythat carried the paper used in these homicides, there was a chance that theymight tip their hand by approaching the store as law-enforcement officerslooking for information. If someone in the store was acquainted with the killerthey might get on the phone the minute they left. If Plan A failed, they couldalways come in with guns and badges blazing.

    Theywatched the store for a few minutes. There was a woman behind the counter,working on a small display rack. No one entered the store and they did not seeanyone else working.

    'Lookslike you're up,' Jessica said.

    'Ithought you were the undercover queen.'

    'Iam,' Jessica said. 'But I think metrosexual is out of my range.'

    'Whatdid we say about that word?'

    'Sorry.'

    Byrnetook a moment, scoping the terrain. 'Who am I again?'

    Jessicagave it some thought. 'I'm thinking Bennett Strong.'

    Byrnenodded. It was a good choice. Tough but suitably fey, given the venue. 'Wherewas the show?'

    Jessicaturned her iPhone so that Byrne could see it. She had searched the web on theway into Doylestown and found a recent print show in Philadelphia. She had alsolooked up the art supply store's website. There she found the owner's name.Alicia Webster.

    Byrnepulled his badge from his belt, along with his weapon and his holster, put itall in the back seat. He took off his jacket.

    'Wantsome hair gel?' Jessica asked.

    Byrnejust gave her a look.

    AliciaWebster was in her mid to late thirties. She wore a beige knit cardigan andblack corduroy slacks. Her eyeglasses hung around her neck on a rawhide lace.

    Sheglanced up as Byrne entered the store accompanied by a ring of a bell. 'May Ihelp you?' she asked. Pleasant smile, bright eyes.

    Byrneproffered a business card. On it was simply a name - no phone number, noaddress, no email, no website. He had a stack of them in his briefcase. Tendifferent names. You never knew.

    'Myname is Bennett Strong,' he said. 'I am the owner of Strong Galleries, New YorkCity.'

    Thewoman's face lit up.

    'Youare Miss Webster?'

    Thewoman looked surprised that he knew her name.

    'Iam.' She held up her left hand, wiggled her ring finger. 'But it's Mrs.'

    Byrneput a hand to his heart. 'Mea culpa.' He smiled at her. 'Mrs. Of course.'

    Ablush. 'How can I help you, Mr. Strong?'

    'Ilove your store, by the way. Did I see Kolinsky sables on the way in?' It wassomething Byrne had seen on the store's website. He knew that the woman carriedthe brushes.

    'Yes,'she said. 'You know your brushes.'

    'Andnow to the point. I recently attended the PortPhilio show in Philadelphia. Didyou manage to make it to the affair?'

    Sayno, Byrne thought. Please say no.

    'No.I wanted to, but I'm all alone here since my son went back to school. Icouldn't get away.'

    'Itwas fabulous.'

    Thedoor opened behind them, ringing the bell again. A woman entered the store.Alicia's eyes flicked over to the new customer, then back.

    'Anyway,I met a man there, a printmaker, who recommended your shop. He showed me someof his work and it was fantastic.'

    'Hownice.'

    'Iwould really like to contact him, but I'm afraid I lost his card and I don'tremember his name.'

    'Andhe said he purchased supplies here?'

    'Yes.'

    'Hewas from Doylestown?'

    'Idon't know.'

    'Whatdid the man look like?'

    Shit,Byrne thought. He had no idea what to say. He didn't even know if it wasa man. He aimed for the middle, culling from a standard profile. 'I'm terribleat these things. But I'd say he was thirty to forty. Medium height and weight.I'm not sure of his hair because he was wearing a ball cap.' This was as vagueas Byrne could get. He smiled at Alicia. 'I'm a lot better with rememberingwomen.'