I took a step toward the hallway, but Thomas stayed by my side.

“Let the air clear first,” Thomas warned gently.

I looked over at Patricia.

She had not moved from the dining room doorway.

Her hands had dropped to her sides, but her fingers were twitching against her skirt.

She was staring out the window at the flashing lights in the driveway.

“Patricia,” I said.

She jumped slightly, her eyes darting to me.

“I didn’t know he had a gun, Claire,” she said quickly, her voice trembling. “I swear to you, I had no idea.”

“You knew about the money,” I said.

She swallowed hard, her collarbones rising beneath the silk of her blouse.

“I only wanted what was fair for my son,” she said.

“By helping him steal from my mother’s medical fund?” I asked.

She looked away, her eyes scanning the floor where her porcelain cup lay in pieces.

“He told me it was an investment,” she whispered. “He said the estate owed him.”

“The estate owed him nothing,” Thomas Bell said.

He stepped toward her, his black shoes clicking on the hardwood.