To an unsuspecting coroner, it looks like sudden cardiac arrest brought on by severe trauma.
He was going to finish her.
They hadn’t just wanted to punish Clara; they wanted her dead so her share of the family trust would automatically revert to Arthur before the financial seizure was finalized.
I approached Thorne from behind, my footsteps silent on the rubberized flooring.
As he turned around, holding the prepared syringe upright to bleed out the air bubbles, he bumped directly into my chest.
He gasped, jumping back, his face turning paper-white.
“M-Mr.
Vance!”
Thorne stammered, frantically trying to hide the syringe behind his back.
“I…
I was just preparing a sedative for your wife.
Her vital signs are slightly elevated—”
I didn’t let him finish.
I reached out, wrapped my right hand around his throat, and slammed him back against the steel frame of the nurse’s station.
The breath erupted from his lungs in a wheezing gasp.
