Chapter Twenty-Six
Sam’s mind raced.Theback door was closer than the front, and it was propped open for the delivery.The delivery must be running behind.If she could just get past Pamela.
“Please don’t make this harder,” Pamela said, moving to block the center aisle.Tears streamed down her face, but her grip on the bookend didn’t waver.“I don’t want to hurt you.But I can’t let you tell.”
Sam grabbed a hardcover from the shelf behind her and threw it.The book sailed past Pamela’s shoulder.Sam had never been great at throwing and missed her target in a big way, but it did make Pamela duck instinctively.
Sam ran.
She dodged left, into the literature section, then cut right toward the back of the shop.Behind her, she heard Pamela’s footsteps, faster than she would have expected for a woman in her sixties.
“Sam, please!”Pamela’s voice was desperate.“Stop!”
Sam’s hip clipped the corner of a display table, sending paperbacks cascading to the floor.She caught her balance and kept going, the back hallway in sight now, the rectangle of daylight from the propped-open door.
A male voice called from the back entrance: “Hello?Delivery for Charlotte Webb?”
Sam nearly sobbed with relief.“Here!I’m here.”
She burst into the back hallway just as a young man in a delivery uniform came through the door, pushing a dolly loaded with boxes.He looked startled at her appearance—breathless, wild-eyed.
Behind her, she heard Pamela stop abruptly, still holding the bookend aloft.
Sam turned.Pamela’s face was white, her expression stricken.For a long moment, their eyes met.
“Ma’am?”The delivery driver looked between them, confused.“Is everything okay here?”
Pamela’s gaze moved from Sam to the driver, then back to Sam.In that moment, Sam saw the full weight of everything crashing down on Pamela’s face.The murders, the years of bitterness, and the impossible situation she’d created for herself.
The bookend fell from Pamela’s hands with a heavy thud against the floor.
Then Pamela ran, not toward them but away, back through the bookshop toward the front entrance.
“Call 911!”Sam told the driver, already moving after Pamela.“Tell them there’s been an attempted assault and the suspect is fleeing.”
The driver fumbled for his phone as Sam ran through the shop.She reached the front just in time to see Pamela burst through the door, the bell jangling violently.Sam stopped in the doorway, not chasing, just watching.
Pamela ran onto the sidewalk and directly into Main Street without looking.
