Part 4: The Catch
At 7:25 p.m., the sliding glass door clicked open.
Kelly walked into the room holding a small plastic tray containing a prepared syringe. Her expression was completely devoid of emotion—the cold, clinical look of a mercenary completing a contract.
“Time for your evening medication, Mrs. Hunter,” Kelly said smoothly, stepping toward the bed.
She didn’t notice that the wool coat was covering the camera. She didn’t notice that the heart rate monitor had been switched to a pre-recorded simulation mode.
As she reached down to inject the clear liquid into the IV port, a hand reached out from the shadow behind the curtain and grabbed her forearm in a vice-like grip.
Kelly shrieked, dropping the syringe onto the floor.
Paxton stood before her, fully upright, his posture commanding and unbroken. Beside him stood two detectives from the Maricopa County Sheriff’s Office Special Investigations Division, along with Donald, his workshop foreman, who had brought a state trooper witness.
“Going somewhere, Kelly?” Paxton asked quietly.
Kelly’s face drained of every drop of color. She backed up against the side table, knocking over the black notebook as the detectives stepped forward and snapped heavy steel handcuffs around her wrists.
“He… he was in a coma!” Kelly stammered, panicking. “I was just following the doctor’s orders!”
“The syringe on the floor contains three times the lethal limit of concentrated potassium chloride,” one of the detectives noted, carefully securing the needle into an evidence tube. “And we have your phone tap from five minutes ago confirming you called Albert Hunter’s personal aide from the tarmac at Sky Harbor.”
Kelly collapsed into a chair, sobbing hysterically as the detectives escorted her out through the side entrance.
“Now,” Paxton said, turning to the lead detective as he pulled a fresh suit from his closet. “Let’s make sure my family gets a warm welcome when their flight lands.”
