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“So no alcohol, obviously,” Quinn said. “Like an airline pilot.”
“Oh, God, no,” Samantha said. “I don’t drink anything within twenty-four hours of a shift. The rules are the same as for pilots. It’s a very similar job, actually. Requires the same kind of person. Meticulous.”
“I was asking about Xanax,” Quinn said.
“I don’t know what that is,” Samantha said. “I’ve heard of it, but …”
“Anxiety medicine,” Quinn said. “You haven’t heard that Abby was taking it? Your mom knew, and Beckett knew, but they didn’t tell you?”
“No,” Samantha said. “Never. So I was right. I wasright.”She thumped the edge of the counter. “I knew there was something wrong. Her perfect life, her perfect love—and she was taking anxiety medicine! Perfect Abby! No wonder Mum didn’t tell me. That must’ve been a blow. Her perfect daughter.”
“She didn’t talk to you about that?” Quinn asked.
“No. Well, obviously not. She’d have had to admit that her life wasn’t working out. She was competitive with me. She wouldn’t have said she was, because she always thought she was safely ahead, but that wasn’t true anymore, was it? Not best pleased when I got out of the services and started earning good money. Not underneath.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Quinn said. “I have a brother myself. He’s a doctor, and my parents think he’s so great, and …” She broke off. “But you probably get it.”
“Too right I do.”
Quinn stood, saying, “I can’t thank you enough. I’ll let you get some sleep.” Then turned with her hand on the door handle and said, “Oh! I almost forgot. One more thing. Who was the guy Abby was talking to at your party?”
“Who?” Samantha blinked.
“Somebody said. But I can’t remember his name.”
“You don’t mean Victor,” Samantha said. “There was nothing there.”
“Oh,” Quinn said. “I heard he liked her.”
“No.” Samantha’s smile was tighter now. “He liked me. He still does, poor bloke.”
“Oh. Sorry. I got mixed up. Would you have his phone number, by any chance? His address? Maybe she was coming on tohim.Maybe she told him something about her marriage. You never know. Some women are like that—more dependent on a man, confiding in him. Whereas you and I—”
“Too right,” Samantha said again. “There’s nothing in it, because Victor would’ve shut that down pretty smartly, but if you have to check to be happy about it, give me your mobile number, and I’ll send over his info.”
Quinn did it, grateful that she’d thought to purchase international coverage for her phone, and said, “Thanks. Just in case.” She wanted to ask for the guest list. Too far, she decided.
“Did you get what you wanted?” Samantha asked.
“Oh, yeah,” Quinn said. “My eyes are opened. I can’t believe I fell for him.”
* * *
Beckett was being chased.He didn’t know who was behind him, but he knew they wanted to kill him. He was running. Faster. Faster. Throwing himself over a fence, sprinting down to the water.
Shots behind him. No choice. He plunged in.
The water was cold. Freezing. He was going to die out here, because it was too cold. He was going to … There was ice around him, suddenly, and he’d gone through. Clinging to the edge of the hole, gasping with cold, hearing acrackas a branch snapped somewhere.
Another crack.
He swam to the surface, dragging his eyes open. Oh. He’d been asleep, and Quinn was tapping at the window again.
She got in, shivered, and said, “It’s freezing in here. How low is the air?”
She was right. He punched the button a few times. “Open the window.”
“Are you crazy? You’ve probably burned through three gallons of gas taking this car to absolute zero.”
