Pam was just starting home from the market on Newbury Street, a couple of blocks from her condo, when Jake’s text came in.

Finishing up statement and should be home soon. They’re out looking for Prescott. Not at office or home, but his car’s there so he must be around somewhere. They’ve staked out his condo and they’ll get him when he comes back. Pretty much done here until then. Xoxo

She breathed a sigh of relief. It was just about over.

Great, just picked up steaks and stuff for dinner. Will be ready to celebrate when you get here.

The streets were crowded as she made her way home. Probably a mixture of people getting off work and going out for the evening. She wanted time to marinate the steaks and maybe have a quiet glass of wine, so she hustled through the crowd back to her building.

Took the elevator to the fifth floor.

Unlocked the door.

And then someone grabbed her from behind and pressed something hard against her.

“Get inside and keep quiet. This is a gun at your back.”

He pushed her inside the condo and she turned around.

Eric Prescott.

She started to scream, but Prescott pointed the gun at her. “Shut up or I’ll use it.”

She looked around frantically. He was between her and the door. No place to go. The gun made what had happened to Holly all too clear. And what he intended for her.

He waved the gun at a chair near the fireplace. “I don’t want to have to hurt you. Sit down, we need to talk.”

She couldn’t stop herself from trembling. Fear? Rage? Maybe both. She squeezed her fists together, trying to retain control. If he was going to shoot me, he’d have done it already. He must need something first. Stall.

She sat down. “Alright, put the gun away. You won’t need it.”

He kept it pointed at her. “We’ll see. Why don’t you start by telling me why you visited Neuchem this afternoon. And who Steve Morgan really is.”

“Okay, just give me a minute.”

He nodded and lowered the gun slightly. Her purse was next to her. With the pepper spray. Maybe I can surprise him.

She reached for it and felt the canister inside.

Yanked it out. Jumped at him.

But he knocked it out of her hand.

“What the fuck’s this, you bitch!” He slammed the gun across her face and she fell to the floor. Her head hit the side of the fireplace and she lay there, dazed and bleeding from her forehead.

• • •

Jake knocked lightly on Pam’s door and let himself in. What the hell! Pam lying on the floor, bleeding. He started over to her.

And then he saw Prescott. Pointing a gun at his chest.

Prescott smiled coldly. “Well, well. The famous journalist Steve Morgan. Come join us. I think Pam was about to tell me who you really are.”

Years of training kicked in as Jake assessed the situation. Prescott hadn’t killed Pam. Or him. He must want information first. Get him talking. Distract him. Get close enough to go for the gun.

He started moving toward Prescott.

“Stay where you are,” Prescott said. “We have some talking to do. Who the hell are you, anyway? What were you doing at Neuchem?”

Jake took a couple more steps. Maybe ten feet away now. “Sure, we can talk. I’m a private investigator.” He nodded toward Pam. “She hired me to figure out what happened to her drug. And courtesy of your Dr. Kimura, we now know that the drug you’re about to publish came from something at the Langmere. Kind of looks like you stole the drug with her postdoc. And maybe killed her?”

The gun shook in Prescott’s hand. “That’s quite a story. And just who have you told about this?”

Jake raised his hands and inched closer. Six feet away. Almost there. “Nobody yet. Although I have my notes written up and uploaded to iCloud, just in case anything should happen to me. But maybe we can make a deal. There’ll be lots of money in this for you. For, oh, let’s say a third, I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

Prescott hesitated. “Interesting idea. But then how about Weller?”

Jake shrugged. “Whatever. Up to you.”

Another step closer.

Suddenly Pam grabbed the wrought iron fireplace poker on the floor next to her, rose up, and swung at the back of Prescott’s head.

Prescott ducked and blocked the blow.

But it was all the distraction Jake needed.

He leaped across the remaining gap to Prescott. Grabbed the gun and twisted with his left hand. Karate chopped Prescott’s wrist in a crisscross motion with his right.

Prescott yelled and let go.

Jake stepped back. “Disarmament 101. You’re not very good at this, are you Professor?” He held out the gun. “Want to try for it? Give me an excuse?”

Prescott stood frozen, eyes darting from side to side. Looking for some way out.

“You piece of shit,” Jake said. And slammed a right uppercut into Prescott’s jaw.

Prescott staggered backward and tumbled to the floor in a heap. Finished.

Jake took a deep breath. Then he went over to Pam and put his arms around her. “Are you okay?”

She melted into him, trembling softly.

“Nice move with the poker,” he said. “Just what I needed.”

She looked up, smiling through her tears. “The bastard never did think I was good for much. Maybe he’ll change his mind now.”

Jake kissed her. “He’ll have plenty of time to think about it.”

Then he took out his phone and placed a call. “Harlow? I’m at Pam’s place. We found Prescott. Could you send someone over to take out the trash?”