Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sam didn’t argue. Her legs felt shaky, and she realized her hands were trembling.
Arlo greeted them at the door with his usual enthusiasm, completely unaware of how close his human had come to serious harm. Sam sank onto her sofa while Aiden locked the door behind them and then disappeared into her kitchen.
He returned with a glass of water and a throw blanket, which he draped gently over her shoulders.
“Thank you,” Sam said quietly.
Aiden sat beside her, close enough that their shoulders touched. “Do you want to talk about it? Or would you rather just relax and be quiet for a while?”
Sam considered. The events at the bookshop felt both surreal and far too real at the same time. “Pamela was just a sad, angry person who’d been hurt and never got past it. And she killed two people because of it.”
Aiden nodded.
Sam said, “I can’t help feeling sorry for her. Margaret stole her research, took credit, then destroyed her academic career. It was awful. But it just doesn’t justify murder.”
“No,” Aiden agreed. “It doesn’t.”
They sat in silence for a moment. Then Aiden said, “You said she tried to kill you.”
“She had a heavy bookend.” Sam stopped, the image too clear in her mind. “If that driver hadn’t arrived when he did, it could have been a totally different ending.”
Aiden’s jaw tightened. He reached for her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. “But he did arrive. You’re safe.”
Sam squeezed his hand, grateful for the solid warmth. “I threw a book at her,” she said and was surprised to hear herself laugh. It was a slightly hysterical sound. “I have truly awful aim. I missed by about two feet.”
“I’ll take you out to the batting cages,” Aiden said, his tone serious, but his eyes warm. “We’ll work on that.”
Sam laughed again, more naturally this time. Then, without thinking too hard about it, she leaned her head against his shoulder.
He went still for a moment, then shifted slightly so she’d be more comfortable. His free hand came up to rest gently against her hair.
“I’m glad you happened by when you did,” Sam said quietly. “I needed to see a friendly face.”
“I always take Main Street on my way home from school,” Aiden said. “I saw the crowd and the woman in the road. Then I saw you.” He paused. “I’ve never been so scared in my life.”
Sam lifted her head to look at him.
“I’m okay,” she said softly. “Really.”
“I know.” But he didn’t move away. “Sam, I—”
Sam’s phone rang, shattering the moment. She pulled back and fumbled for it in her purse. The screen showed Lieutenant Phillips’s number.
“I should take this,” she said apologetically. “It’s Phillips.”
Aiden nodded and stood, giving her space. “I’ll make some coffee.”
Sam answered the phone. “Lieutenant Phillips.”
“Ms. Prescott.” Phillps’s voice was grave but not unkind. “I wanted to update you on Ms. Cross’s condition and let you know what happens next.”
“How is Pamela?” Sam asked.
“Broken femur, concussion, some bruising and lacerations. The doctors say she’ll recover fully, though the leg will require surgery.” He paused. “She’s been lucid since arriving at the hospital. She confessed to both murders and the attempt on your life. She gave a full statement.”
Sam closed her eyes briefly. “Both murders.”
“Margaret Brennan and Gerald Parker. She confirmed she used crushed blood thinner tablets in Dr. Brennan’s coffee. She was on warfarin herself for a heart condition, so she had ready access.”
“What about Gerald Parker?”
Phillips’s tone shifted slightly. “She says he didn’t realize he’d witnessed her near Dr. Brennan’s coffee.
He’d told her he didn’t understand what he was seeing at the time.
He’d thought maybe Pamela was helping Margaret out by adding cream or sugar.
But after Dr. Brennan died, the more he thought about it, the more it worried him.
He’d apparently called Ms. Cross and asked her about it, thinking maybe there was just an innocent explanation. ”
“I see.”
Phillips added, “Ms. Cross seemed genuinely distraught over Mr. Parker’s death. She said she never meant for anyone else to get hurt.”
“But she was willing to hurt me,” Sam said quietly.
“Yes.” Phillips didn’t soften it.
“What happens to Pamela now?”
Phillips said, “Once she’s stable enough, she’ll be arrested and formally charged with two counts of murder and one count of attempted murder. Her attorney has already indicated she intends to plead guilty.”
After they hung up, Sam sat staring at her phone. Aiden returned to the sofa, but he didn’t sit as close as before. He seemed uncertain, as if the interrupted moment had made him second-guess himself.
“She confessed to everything,” Sam said. “She’ll plead guilty.”
Aiden nodded. “That’s good. Clear resolution.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Listen, I should probably let you rest. You’ve been through a lot today.”
“Don’t go.” The words came out before Sam could think about them. “Please. I don’t want to be alone right now.”
His expression softened. “Are you sure? I don’t want to—”
“I’m sure.” Sam pulled the blanket more tightly around her shoulders. “But I’m terrible company right now. I’m shaky, and I can’t promise I’ll make good conversation.”
“I don’t need good conversation.” Aiden settled back onto the sofa. “I just need to know you’re okay.”