All Their Faults

One woman's truth is another man's lie.

According to the universe, a copycat murder was the perfect housewarming gift. I moved to Tranquil Hills to bury the man I lost. Instead, I bought his secrets.
The move to was supposed to be a fresh start. Hank Sanderson's body in my barn made it a crime scene. The knife-no, the horseshoe shaped into a blade-felt like cold déjà vu. My fiancé was murdered in the same twisted way. 
I'm an artist. I paint what I see. I don't solve murders. Yet here I am, sketchbook clenched, watching Old Money and new rivalries close in. There's Oliver the trainer with shaky finances, Alexander the owner with too much influence, a farrier who could have fashioned the weapon, and Devin: the rider who makes me forget I'm grieving. The police have questions. So do I. Every answer raises another. If I don't catch whoever is rewriting the rules, someone else will die. The only question now is whether I'm the one they were coming for. Because, in Tranquil Hills, the winner will take it all, no matter the cost. Everyone knows that even galloping horses wont outrun their shadows.