Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger

Not cash. Not unmarked bearer bonds. Nothing suspicious,
just a letter.
The police would’ve thought it was a dead end. But I
might’ve known better.
Because of that one line that I’m so desperate to reread
now, that I think will tell me everything.
Nat,
I love you. First and always, remember that. You’re the
only thing that has ever made my life worth living, and I thank
God every day for you and your precious smile.
I mutter, “Lying shithead men.” I skip ahead to the next
section.
You once told me you always find yourself in art. You said that
whenever you get lost, you find yourself in your paintings.
My beautiful Natalie, I hope you’ll find me there, too.
“Find me in your paintings,” I say slowly.
A chill falls over my skin. I raise my head and look around
the bedroom at all the art hanging on the walls.
I look at all my paintings hanging on the walls.
And I remember the movie David and I watched the week
before we were supposed to get married as we were sitting up
in bed.
It was a crime drama called Traffic. There were several
different interconnected stories, all of them set around the
illegal drug trade. A judge has a crack-addicted daughter. Two
DEA agents protect an informant.
A drug king’s wife carries on the business when he’s sent
to jail.