EIGHT
For a while, Sam simply stared at the envelope attached to the bottom side of the dining table.
He knew he should call the police and have it fingerprinted and analyzed.
But what if it incriminated him somehow?
Whoever had taped it there was clearly a step ahead of him. And there were only four people who could have put it there—the only four people who had sat at the table: Elliott, Hiro, Daniele, and Constance.
His closest friends and colleagues.
Could he add Tom Morris, the Absolom chief counsel, to the suspect list? Sam thought back. No. The entire time Tom had been in the room, he had sat in the lounge area, never at the dining table.
Could someone else have gotten in here? No. The room had been guarded by a staffer from Absolom Security while he was gone.
It had to have been left by one of the four.
Sam reached up, pulled the envelope free, and flipped it over. The entire outside was blank.
He opened it, slipped the folded page out, and read the typed message.
Sam,
You have a choice.
Confess to Nora’s murder, and Adeline will go free. No harm will come to her.
If you refuse, I will send the police irrefutable evidence of Adeline’s guilt.
You have until 5pm.
Choose wisely.
Absolom awaits.
The small page shook as Sam’s hand began to tremble. His chest heaved as he sucked in breath after breath, but try as he might, he couldn’t fill his lungs. It was like they were shrinking.
He was suffocating.
His legs felt weak. He staggered to the couch, closed his eyes, and tried to breathe.
He was losing the battle.
He was dying.
A knock at the door sounded a million miles away.
“Dr. Anderson!” The man’s shout was muffled, as though Sam was underwater. “Dr. Anderson! Are you all right?”
Sam’s vision spotted.
A wave of nausea overtook him.
His last thought before he passed out was of the note. He couldn’t let them find it.
His arms were heavy and sluggish, but he forced them to move, to stuff the small page under one of the couch cushions as darkness swallowed him up and the door lock clicked open.
*
Sam was lying on the couch when he regained consciousness. The bright lights above hurt his eyes, so he squeezed them shut.
Elliott was practically screaming. “You’ve nearly killed him. I want Dr. Anderson released. Right now.”
Billings replied: “That’s not going to happen.”
Elliott again: “So help me God, if this man dies here, I will bury this police station in lawsuits. The paperwork alone will kill every last one of you.”
Another man spoke then. Sam thought it was the nurse from the post-arrest room. “We could move him to the hospital for continuous observation.”
“I’m okay,” Sam croaked as he tried to sit up.
The nurse gripped Sam’s shoulders and helped him up.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” Elliott said. “You had a panic attack, Sam. The next one could kill you.”
“Can you tell us what happened?” the nurse asked.
Sam’s eyes drifted to the couch cushion where he had hidden the note.
“Dr. Anderson?” the nurse said, leaning forward.
Sam made a decision then, one he sensed was about to determine the rest of his life. And Adeline’s life.
“Nothing. Nothing happened. I just started feeling a little overwhelmed.”
The nurse nodded. “That’s very common. If you’d like, we can transfer you to the hospital where we can run some diagnostic tests and monitor you more closely.”
“I don’t want any tests. Or to be monitored.”
“Well,” Billings said, “to be on the safe side, we’re going to halt any further meetings with Dr. Anderson for twenty-four hours.”
The nurse pointed to the medical armband on Sam’s wrist. “We’ll continue to monitor your vitals, but please notify us if you experience any changes—mental or physical. Okay, Dr. Anderson?”
“Sure thing.”
Elliott muttered and paced as Billings and the medical team left the room. When the door closed, he plopped down in one of the club chairs.
“What really happened?”
Sam glanced at the couch cushion again. Elliott was one of his oldest friends. And probably his closest friend at work. Except for Nora.
But for some reason, Sam couldn’t bring himself to show him the note. At least, not yet. Maybe it was because Nora was opposed to Elliott’s Absolom breakthrough. That was as close to a murder motive as Sam could see right now. The other problem was that, deep down, he sensed that if he showed Elliott the note, he might take it to the police. Or even the press—to prove Sam’s innocence. There were too many unknowns.