but the other bed was empty, so he was on his own. Quinn pulled up a chair and sat down, drinking him in until she felt reassured that he was indeed stable. Gabe was hooked up to an IV and several other monitors, but his face looked peaceful, and his color was good. He was breathing evenly, and his heartrate was steady. Quinn reached out and took his hand. It was warm but limp. His fingers did not curl around hers, nor did he respond in any way. That was all right, though. She had no wish to disturb him, only to feel a connection with him.
She sat like that for a long time, just watching him sleep, until the sky began to lighten in the east, dawn fast approaching and the sun rising on another day, a day neither of them might have lived to see. This would also be the day she’d have to tell Phoebe that her son had lost a kidney and inform Seth that his son was in police custody. Some part of her wanted to wait, to let Seth find out on his own, but she owed it to him. He was her father, and the news that his son had not only willfully killed his other daughter but had tried to murder Quinn and Gabe would bring Seth to his knees. He wasn’t an overly introspective man, preferring to deal with facts rather than suppositions, but Quinn was certain he’d ask himself the impossible questions, like whether there was anything he had done as a father to set Brett on the path he’d chosen. Any parent would.
Would Seth set aside his own feelings and try to help Brett, or would he let him face the consequences alone this time? Quinn couldn’t begin to guess. The very thought of Brett made her feel ill. She hadn’t focused on the details last night, having been too shocked and scared to notice the little things, but now her mind was cruelly playing back the tape, forcing her to pay attention to things she’d have preferred to ignore. Brett had been wearing latex gloves, and the hood of his sweatshirt had been pulled up to cover his hair. He hadn’t sat down or come into contact with anything. Had the police found Quinn and Gabe dead this morning, there would have been no forensic evidence linking Brett to the scene. He’d thought everything through and had chosen a poison that would kill swiftly, ensuring there’d be no dramatic rescue.
As with Jo, this was no crime of passion. He’d had less than a day in which to set his plan in motion, but he’d done so quickly and efficiently, and would have got away with it. And as he had pointed out, by the time DI Marshall would have issued a warrant for his arrest and gone through the proper channels to have him extradited to the UK, he’d be long gone. A person who had cash could always go off the grid, especially in places where it was easy to disappear. He’d mentioned once that he’d go to Thailand if he ever decided to get away from the States. Perhaps that had been the plan.
“Quinn,” Gabe muttered. His voice was barely audible, but he was awake and lucid.
“I’m here. How do you feel?”
“Like I’ve been run over by a lorry,” Gabe replied, giving her a feeble smile.
“You are going to be all right,” Quinn assured him. There was so much she wanted to say, but now wasn’t the time. She didn’t want to upset him or remind him of last night, in case his brain had somehow managed to dull the sharpness of recent events.
“Where’s Emma?”
“She’s at home, with Jude.”
“My mum,” Gabe muttered.
“Don’t worry. I will ring your mum.”
Gabe’s eyes cleared a little as he grew more alert. “Do they have enough to charge him?”
Quinn nodded. “They do. He’s not getting off so easily this time. DI Marshall has found evidence of Jo’s murder as well. Brett is going down, Gabe.”
Gabe sighed and closed his eyes. He looked tired and ill.
“Go back to sleep,” Quinn said softly. “I’ll be right here when you wake.” If DI Marshall wanted a statement, he’d have to come to her. She wasn’t leaving Gabe on his own, not for such a long stretch of time.
Quinn briefly considered going in search of a cup of coffee but changed her mind. Instead, she reached for the ring and slipped it onto her finger,