Chapter 18

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“I was only kidding,”Clay told the painting of Quint as he began working on the eyes. “That would be like something out of a thriller. Cop falls for artist, cop starts killing off the competition. Cop pretends he needs the artist to help him stop the killer, giving said cop the chance to work his way into the artist’s life.” He snickered. “Watch too many TV detective shows?”

He continued working, and eventually the eyes looked the way he wanted them to—like Quint’s knowing, understanding ones.