Chapter 18Jimmy
And there, at last, like a specter hovering in the stale air, there she was. The object of their fatal attraction. Of their unending interest. And of their undying suspicion surrounding her mysterious death. Kerry-Anne (Conklin) Hardesty loomed in front of them, an imposing figure, a still life.
The portrait was hung on the far wall, overlooking the grand, sweeping staircase that led up to the second, no doubt more impressive personal quarters of those who had lived here. Lived. At the end of Hardesty’s life, it had only been him and his young bride. And speaking of the old guy, the accompanying portrait on the wall was of him. Looking like the patrician patriarch of a big old money family, he was dressed in a classic business suit, tie, his bald head with a sheen, or per
