“The state police and the medical examiner’s office will make that determination,” Jace said, and his calm was worse than shouting. “The hospital has already turned over toxicology samples from the body.

And I’d expect that warrants for your pharmacy records, your financial accounts, and your electronic communications are being drawn up as we speak. If the recording is fake, Mrs. Benedict, then none of that will trouble you at all.”

Demi stared at him, breathing hard, and for the first time the mask cracked all the way through, and what showed underneath was not grief and not even anger but fear.

She turned and walked out, fast, her heels striking the marble like small hammers. Gareth grabbed his coat and went after her.

Down in the concrete cool of the parking structure, out of sight between the pillars, she rounded on him and shoved him back against the flank of his sports car with both hands.

“You told me,” she hissed, “you swore to me, he could not possibly suspect anything. You said he was a trusting old fool. You said it was the perfect plan.”