Livid Patricia Cornwell Mga Nobela at Kwento

"Without you, I really don't know what I would have done. Leo, thank you for being so good to me. I don't know how to express my gratitude." The next day, Patricia had Richard take her to the police station. She was determined to interrogate Olivia herself, to ask her how she could have the heart to kill a man who loved her so much. Olivia sat at a table, her once lustrous long hair now cut short to ear-length. She looked haggard, her former radiance replaced by pessimism and exhaustion. Richard escorted Patricia into the room. As soon as they entered, Patricia's emotions got the better of her, and she slapped Olivia across the face.

Music drifted from the outer gallery as if nothing in the world had shifted. But for Leah, the room narrowed to Patricia’s face. Not the donor. Not the patron. Not the respectable woman in pearls. The hand on the shoulder. Patricia’s smile remained faint and composed, but the softness had thinned. Beneath it was something older, colder, and far more practiced than simple cruelty. She had not threatened Leah in the way Margaret threatened, with velvet ropes wrapped around hospitals and scholarships. She had not pressed like Charles, clean-fingered and legal. Patricia did something worse.

"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.