“Why 'You'?" Harley asked. “Is this part of a larger message, or is it a threat?"
Leslie's body had been tossed aside like a ragdoll. Aside from the fact that, like Donald, her arm had been torn off and used to write the letter like a large and extremely morbid paintbrush, her corpse was nothing special. He hadn't posed her body, or dressed her a certain way, or done anything else that would suggest that the word was a warning.
The rest of the room was in disarray, but not in the sense of being tossed around during a struggle. There hadn't been a struggle; Jonathan had probably carried her in here from the door by her throat.
Marian wondered if he had killed her before or after that. Had she been struggling? Jacques would have left her struggling. He would have left her to bleed out fr
