Julia Henry takes a part-time job at a Sussex Street art gallery to salvage some of her design career after a disastrous winter, only to find that her new colleagues are either snobby, insane… or dead.
When one of the hottest up-and-coming artists vanishes right after a media-splashed show, it looks like a success fuelled travel binge… except the lovely young woman turns up five blocks away, sprawled across the turn lane of King Edward Avenue and so full of illicit substances it’s difficult to tell what killed her, a vehicle or an overdose.
Julia doesn’t want to get involved… her last bout with curiosity left her with a permanent limp, a pronounced fear of storage lockers, and a marriage only now beginning to recover. But the couple who own the gallery are visibly distraught, and something in Lacie’s paintings is all wrong — and it’s not the colour or the perspective.
Now with a reluctant husband watching for signs of strange, a police officer asking the wrong sorts of questions, and bizarrely familiar faces panhandling the streets of the Byward Market, Julia has run out of choices: someone else has seen what she’s seen, and has made a choice of their own — to downsize one art gallery by exactly one nosy graphic designer.