“It was all his idea, I swear to God!” she sobbed, pointing at Brandon.

“He told me she was going to leave him with nothing!

I never touched her on that mountain — Brandon pushed her, it was Brandon, it was all Brandon — ”

“Shut your mouth, Gretchen!” Brandon screamed, his composure gone completely now, nothing left of the grieving widower but a cornered man.

“Shut up right now!” He spun and lunged for the small private door behind the altar — and Douglas was already there, filling the doorway, one heavy hand closing on Brandon’s shoulder and stopping him as though he had run into a wall.

The troopers brought him down, there on the carpet, directly beneath the black-ribboned portrait of the wife he had tried to erase.