Chapter Eighteen
Aileen sipped at the hot chocolate Isla had made for them. The bakery was empty at this time of night. Darkness crept in through the glass windows, the heater barely keeping the freezing temperatures at bay.
Dr Macdonald had prescribed her some painkillers and a sleeping pill since she hadn’t slept well in days. He’d also asked her to seek counselling and assured her that her PTSD was a natural response to what she’d been through. Apart from a few scrapes, Langdon hadn’t caused much damage, but inside, anxiety ate her up.
Callan hadn’t allowed them to stay for the interview, but he had told them the gist of what Langdon had said.
The slimeball had firmly denied having killed anyone. He had confessed to poisoning Mr West out of compulsion. But they had no evidence to co
