I nod.

“I can stay, if you’d like? If it would make you feel safer to have someone else here?”

“How did he sound?”

“Distraught. Sick with worry about you. Desperate to make sure that you’re OK. Angry at himself that he didn’t save you.” She smiles at me. “He sounds lovely.”

As it turns out, Tom gets here while Vicky is still drinking her coffee. The doorbell rings three times in quick succession and she opens the door, then stands to one side as Tom barrels into the house toward me and then I am in his arms and we are both crying. “Thank God, thank God, thank God,” he keeps saying under his breath through a mouthful of my hair. Then he pulls away and notices Vicky, who has come in and is now standing next to me.

He throws his arms around her. “Thank you, thank you,” he says as she blushes deeply.

Vicky leaves five minutes later, and Tom and I move to the living room, his hand either in mine or on my waist the whole time as if he doesn’t want to let me go. We lie on the sofa and he gathers me to him.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he whispers, his eyes locked on mine. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

We stay like that for over an hour. Neither of us speaking, just bathing in the glory of our togetherness. Then I kiss his neck, then his lips, gently at first, then more and more greedily. He pulls away a little and looks at me, concern swimming in his eyes.

“Did he hurt you?” he asks gently.

I wish I could tell him the truth, my heart breaking a little at the look on his face, but I can’t find the words.

Tom’s phone vibrates in his pocket and the moment is broken. “My sister says to turn on the news immediately. But only if you’re OK to see him?”

I nod in reply. We switch on the TV and sit side by side. Chris’s face fills the screen, that lazy vulpine smile I grew to hate so much.

“In the face of overwhelming evidence,” the newsreader is saying solemnly, “Christopher Hardcastle has been formally charged with the murder of his wife, Megan Hardcastle, in addition to the kidnapping of Megan’s sister, Leah Patterson. Earlier today, all charges against Tom Eagleton, Ms. Patterson’s boyfriend, who had previously been arrested in connection to her disappearance, were dropped. Christopher Hardcastle has been remanded in custody, pending his trial. Given the severity of the crimes he is accused of, and the volume of evidence against him, there will be no consideration of bail at this time.”

Tom slips his hand into mine. “We’ll get through this, Leah, I promise.”

Should I tell him the truth? The whole truth and nothing but the truth?

Part Four

Jeremy Crumpton

Chapter Twenty-Three

On my advice, my client has answered every question with a brusque “no comment.” I need to get him alone to find out exactly what his side of this story is. Until then, I must let the police ask at least some of their questions. I have to admit that Chris has a level of self-assuredness that impresses me. The best clients are those who refuse to fall apart under pressure. Trying to defend a sobbing wreck who has allowed the process to get to them can become tiring very quickly, and quite frankly I prefer not to waste my time on those men.