Livid Patricia Cornwell Novels & Stories

But for a man like Alexander, who had eyes and ears everywhere, getting information was never a problem. Every detail about Patricia Allen was displayed, such as her family background, education, work history, address history, financial status... Everything. Joseph pushed his glasses up while Alexander leaned back into his chair, crossing one leg over the other, his expression unreadable. “Sir… I know this sounds crazy,” Joseph began, “but her name is also Patricia. Patricia Allen and she lives in Murkwood.” Alexander’s eyes lifted slowly. “The same place we traced the login from her account?” he asked.

"She introduced herself as an old family friend. Said she'd known Mr. Cross for years and was so happy he'd finally found someone worthy of him." The irony would be funny if it wasn't destroying my life. Lucien crosses his arms. "And the safe? How did you know the code?" Patricia's hands twist harder. "I didn't. Not at first. She told me to try certain combinations while you were both at the couples' retreat." "What combinations?" His voice is steel. "Your birthdate. Mrs. Cross's birthdate. The wedding date." Patricia's voice drops to barely a whisper. "And then she said to try... she said to try the date of your mother's death."

Patricia added, pouting in feigned sympathy. "What did you do, Pat?" Marcella asked, intrigued. She shrugged innocently and smiled. "Did what any good citizen would do—gathered evidence against her and handed it over to the police. The next day, the prison became her new home. Now, onto the second one," Patricia paused, taking a meatball into her mouth and chewing it slowly before continuing. "She was really pretty, damn pretty, but I killed her." Patricia sighed sadly, her eyes fixed on her food as she toyed with it using her fork.