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“Yes,” Quinn said. “And you’re the one who put her there. How do you sleep these days, knowing you killed your sister? Is there a pill for that?”
* * *
Beckett wasout of the car, at the door to the flats. Ringing one bell after the other, not caring how much noise came through in Quinn’s purse. Where were the bloody cops? He wanted to call again, but it was too late now. It was …
Somebody answered the bell at last. “Hello?” An older lady.
“Floral delivery,” Beckett said.
“I didn’t order any flowers.”
“Got them here anyway,” Beckett said. “With a card. Somebody’s sent you flowers. You’re seven-thirty-eight, right? Mrs. … Can’t read the handwriting. Could be Johnson. Lovely flowers. Roses.”
“It’s Mrs. Singh. And you aren’t holding any flowers.” The voice was sharp now. “Go away, or I’ll call the police.”
“You’re right,” Beckett said. “I’m here to burgle the place. You should call.”
“Go away.” There was a click, and she was gone.
At last, the two-toned note of a siren in the distance. Too far away. Beckett jammed his thumb on the bell again and kept it there.
“I’m calling the police.” The voice was quavering now. Scared.
“Please,” Beckett said. “Call them. My partner’s up there. Locked in a flat with a madwoman. Call the police.”
“Are you drunk?” Mrs. Singh asked. “It’s ten-thirty in the morning.”
“No,” he said. “I’m desperate. Please. Call, and buzz me in.” He should have saidhe was a cop. Why hadn’t he done it? No, he wasn’t in uniform, and she had a camera. She wouldn’t have believed him.
The slamming of doors behind him. Footsteps approaching. And an older voice, a heavy voice, saying, “Beckett Hughes?”
* * *
“What are you—”Samantha had stopped crying. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” Quinn said. Another lie, but she didn’t imagine thatWhat do you think, you idiot? I’m going to the police right now, and I’m going to tell them everythingwould be well received.
“You can’t tell Victor,” Samantha said.
“I already did. I told him about the Xanax last night. I asked if Abby had seemed anxious, and I told him she was taking it. He knows, and I’m guessing he’ll put two and two together. Especially since he knows Abby came back to see you.”
“You … youbitch.Why do you want to ruin my life? Why? It won’t bring Abby back. It was her own fault! I told you, it was her own fault!”
Quinn didn’t edge around her. Shestrodearound her. Her purse was back on the kitchen counter, but she wasn’t going back for it. She’d get out of here, and—
Samantha caught her from behind. A hand on her shoulder, turning her around.
She was expecting a slap. Instead, it was a punch. Right to the solar plexus. She went down.
She wanted to say, “It’s not going to work, you fool. You’re on tape,” but she couldn’t talk. She should have said that already, about the tape. She should have … She was holding her stomach, gasping, all her nerve centers on fire, trying to get to her feet.
Samantha said, “Youbitch.I’ll bloodykillyou.” And kneed her hard in the face.
Somehow, Quinn got a hand on Samantha’s leg even as the blow fell. Her head exploded, and she felt a sickening crunch,but she held onto that wide pant leg and pulled hard, putting all her weight into it. No thought in her mind butGet out.She couldn’t let Samantha get back to her feet or slew her body around to attack her, so she held on, and then she lunged like she was exploding off the starting block. She vaulted herself right over Samantha, so she was straddling her awkwardly. Samantha was on her back, her hands reaching for Quinn’s face, clawing.
She could barely see. The coppery taste of blood in her mouth, the wetness of it down her chin. She had her hands in Samantha’s hair and was banging her head against the ground. It was tile down there, not carpet, and she banged it hard, then banged it again.Thank God nobody here likes soft surfaces,she thought in some frivolous corner of her mind. Then Samantha got a hard, sharp elbow in her ribs and shoved her off.
Crawling for the door, trying to get to her feet. Trying to run. Samantha’s hand inherhair now, yanking it back. Samantha screaming something incoherent. Samantha’s elbow around her neck, choking her. Quinn was clawing behind her for Samantha’s eyes, grabbing her hair, but Samantha wasn’t letting go. Her vision was starting to swim. She couldn’t— Her heart was banging. Banging. Banging.
