InSight

commit suicide. Never.”
    Abby remembered Stewart’s rationale, finally understanding. He’d been programmed to kill his wife, but he couldn’t live without me. “He did it out of love, to keep his family together in the hereafter.”
    “Whatever. Spilled milk and all that. But you survived, and so did he. Pursuing you further would have called attention to the whole ugly mess. By then, if you knew, either the details were lost to your injury or to Dr. Scanlon’s excellent work.
    “Oh, we watched you. I must say, you rallied. I’d hoped you might find life unbearable and end it all, but I must admit a measure of admiration, Abigael. You’ve made the best of a grim situation and risen to the challenge.”
    Mrs. Gentry walked the room, her heels clicking on the wood floors, the incendiary envelope slapping in her hand.
    “Unfortunately, Stewart was another story. Of course, he was so obviously psychotic, trying him for murder was out of the question. I called in quite a few markers to keep him under control, Dr. Scanlon’s medication notwithstanding.”
    The urge to scream started in the pit of Abby’s stomach and percolated upward, but she regained her composure. The bitch wouldn’t goad her into losing her cool again. If she had any chance of survival, she needed to keep her wits. “Which medication do you mean? Receptormine or the drug that provoked him to kill his daughter and is slowly killing him?”
    “The drug was still in the experimental stage. Poor Macy was an unavoidable glitch.”
    The death of her child an unavoidable glitch? Abby wanted to crumple to the ground in despair. She remembered the advice she gave to Stewart: Breathe in. Breathe out. In. Out .
    Mrs. Gentry continued. “With a combination of drugs and other improvised procedures, Dr. Scanlon kept Stewart under control for eight years, until his keepers grew slack. One never could turn one’s back on Stewart for very long. He always did the unexpected.” She approached Abby’s chair. “Except when it came to you.
    “Oh, dear, you’re pale. A glass of water for my daughter-in-law, Mr. Collyer.”
    Abby tried hard to hold her emotions in check, but the reference to her daughter’s death followed by being Carlotta Gentry’s daughter-in-law made her feel faint. The woman had never acknowledged her as anything other than a low-class interloper, and now, eight years divorced, she referred to Abby as part of her family. What irony.
    Collyer put a glass in her hand. She wanted the water but wouldn’t chance drinking it. She shook her head and held it out. Collyer took it. Sounds alerted her to other people in the room. “Who else is here?”
    “Very good, my dear. I didn’t hear a thing, but I guess what they say about the blind is true. And he was so quiet, weren’t you, Stewart, my love?”
    At the mention of Stewart’s name, Mrs. Gentry’s plan crystallized. A repeat performance. Only now Stewart was a wanted man, obsessed with finishing the act that had captivated the country eight years before. With the incriminating evidence in his mother’s hand, this time he would succeed. But Abby still held the gin card. And she’d hold it as long as possible before slapping it down on the table.
    “You should see him, poor dear.”
    “You won’t get away with this, you know. My friends will figure out where I am. They’ll find this place.”
    “You mean your deaf lover and his deviant buddy? They’ll never find you. Anyone who knows about this building wouldn’t dare talk. You see, they fear for their families. We’re no different from those in their former countries. Clever, don’t you think?”
    Abby remembered saying those same words about Valentina Kozov . Maybe the reluctant chemist would come forward when this was all over, but only if Luke and Norm Archer collected enough evidence on the Black Widow to put her away and make the Russian feel safe enough to testify. If she was still alive.
    “Someone will talk, Mrs. Gentry, if only for self-preservation.” The woman snorted. “To satisfy my curiosity, why are those papers so important that you’d sacrifice your son? I assume it had something to do with why you murdered your husband.”
    “Murder is such a harsh word, but no harm telling you now.”
    Because I won’t be around to repeat it. Carlotta Gentry got up and poured liquid into a glass, then dragged her chair closer to Abby and sat down. Abby smelled the sweet, gag-inducing perfume she always