Yes, that was more Pamela’s style. Still, he might be forgiven if he held quite another image in mind, a much more satisfying teatime pictorial of Pamela Larsen lunging across the scones and cucumber sandwiches, knife in hand, snarling, “Die, bitch!”

Crude but effective.

Yet there would be no tea. Simply murder.

So, how will you find her, Pamela? You won’t leave that to chance. You wouldn’t set foot outside your prison walls until every detail had been planned.

Patrick might not know Pamela Larsen, but he knew her daughter. Take Liv’s more deliciously devious side, multiply it tenfold, and he’d have Pamela.

So it mattered, he supposed, not how she’d know where Seanna was, but simply acknowledging that she would.

Pamela Larsen was coming to Cainsville.

Coming to murder Seanna Walsh.

And Liv expected him to ruin such a perfect scene?

Sacrilege.

No, this wasn’t about stopping Pamela. Not at all.

As he approached Rowan Street, he replayed exactly what Liv had said. She asked him to speak to Veronica or Grace first. Which seemed odd.

Patrick shook his head. His curiosity really could get the better of him sometimes.

As for why Liv wouldn’t want him to let Pamela kill Seanna, well, that was no mystery at all. She had to say that, didn’t she? Gabriel was sitting right next to her in the car, and while Patrick suspected Liv would kill Seanna herself if she could get away with it, she’d be much more circumspect in front of her new lover.

Gabriel would want Seanna dead. Yet he could not do it himself. Ergo, under other circumstances, Liv would happily turn a blind eye to Pamela’s scheme. But Liv finally had Gabriel and was more nervous than became a young woman of her cunning and resolve.

Cunning…

Interesting word choice. And there, perhaps inadvertently, he had solved the mystery. Answered that niggling feeling that said such squeamishness did not become Olivia.

Patrick had misinterpreted the point of the call entirely. It wasn’t to stop Pamela. It was to protect Gabriel. Call Patrick and tell him what was happening, and ask—demand—he do something about it, while knowing full well he wouldn’t. Therefore, when Seanna died at Pamela’s hands, Gabriel would suffer no guilt at having failed to stop it. Liv had tried to stop it. Gabriel had overheard her. Whatever happened after that…well, that was Patrick’s fault, wasn’t it? Not theirs at all.

Patrick smiled.

Clever, clever Liv. He should be furious, of course, at being played. But he admired her skill too much for that.

He appreciated the steps she took to protect his son, and he would reward her.

No, it’s my fault, Gabriel. I told Liv I’d stop Pamela. I was very clear on that. She had no reason to doubt me.