Page 58 of Scarred By Sin

“I blamed myself. I told myself that if I’d just given him the narcotics, maybe he wouldn’t have been driven to whatever it was that destroyed him. That’s why I’ve been visiting Gwenyth once a month for the past thirty years. I was atoning for what I thought I’d failed to prevent.”

“You thought he took his own life,” Theo said quietly.

“Everyone did. And I carried the weight of believing I might have been the reason.” Owen’s voice cracked on the last word, and Nancy tightened her fingers over his. “I never imagined, not once, that Nestor would have been conducting experiments on living subjects. I thought he was working with plants, soil, and compounds. I didn’t know there were people involved.”

“He didn’t want the pain medication for himself, did he?” Nancy asked quietly, her mind obviously going to the cancer patients.

Sylvie gave the woman a gentle smile but didn't answer. She couldn't confirm or deny it, though the implication was clear enough. A man treating terminally ill women in a hidden room would have eventually faced the reality that his compounds weren't enough to manage their pain.

“Mr. Pruitt, I need to ask you again about Gwenyth’s supplements,” Sylvie said, veering the topic of conversation to an issue that had yet to be resolved. “Are you certain that’s all you ever gave her?”

“I swear to you, that’s all.” Owen’s response was immediate. “A multivitamin and vitamin D. That’s all it’s ever been. I would never do anything to harm that woman. She’s the reason I get in my car once a month and drive out to that estate. She’s the closest thing I have to making amends for failing her father.”

“I’ve seen what my husband buys her at the pharmacy,” Nancy said, coming to her husband’s defense. “It’s vitamins. Nothing else.”

Whatever was happening to Gwenyth, Sylvie was certain that Owen Pruitt was not the cause. He had nothing to gain.

“Would it be alright if I stopped by the estate in the next few days?” Owen asked, his voice tentative. “To check on Gwenyth. With everything that’s happened, Porter gone, the investigation, all of it. I’d like to see for myself that she’s okay.”

“As long as you stay away from the greenhouse and don’t disturb the forensics team, it’s Gwenyth’s home,” Sylvie replied gently. “You’re welcome to visit her anytime.”

Owen nodded, and the relief on his face was genuine.

Sylvie and Theo rose from the couch and thanked them for their time. Nancy walked them to the door, the smell of whatever she’d been baking growing stronger. Muffins, Sylvie decided. Blueberry, if she wasn’t mistaken.

They were nearly to the front door when Sylvie stopped and turned back.

“One more thing, Mr. Pruitt. You said Nestor showed up at your door a few weeks before he disappeared. Was that the last time you spoke with him?”

“No. Nestor called me about a week later. Middle of the day, which was unusual for him.” Owen rubbed his jaw while recalling the conversation. “He was sober. Calm. He thanked me for the coffee that night and apologized again for waking us. Then he told me not to worry, that he'd found another way to get what he needed. He didn't say who, and I didn't ask.”

“Do you have any idea who might have helped him?”

“The only person I can think of is Ward Seldon. Ward's cousin was a physician. Whether Ward ever made that introduction, I couldn't say. But if Nestor needed something stronger than what I was willing to provide, Ward would have been the only one in his circle with that kind of connection.”

26

Brooklyn Sloane

July 2026

Saturday — 9:52 am

The kitchen was quiet except for the low hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the old house settling around them. Brook sat across from Dale at the wooden table near the window, both hands wrapped around a mug of Lacie’s decaf.

Dale’s mug sat untouched in front of him.

He’d accepted it when Brook offered, but he hadn’t taken a sip. She understood completely, and she didn’t take offense. His collar was loosened, his sleeves rolled to the forearms, and the composure he usually exuded had been traded for something closer to exhaustion. For the past hour, they’d been discussing his brother and the unsanctioned research. A part of her was surprised when he decided to switch topics. In all honesty, she’d expected him to confirm what he’d heard from Sheriff Gentry that morning and then immediately take his leave.

“I know you don’t think I’m doing the right thing with this guardianship stuff,” Dale murmured as he twisted the mug around on the placemat. “But I should have done it a long time ago.”

“Why didn’t you?”

His thumb slowly traced the handle.

“Because for a long time, she didn’t need it. After Nestor disappeared, Gwenyth was quiet, yes. She kept to herself, wouldn’t leave the property, but was functioning. She paid the bills through the trust, she maintained the house to a degree, and Porter handled the rest. I checked in every few months, and while it wasn’t ideal, it was manageable.”

“What changed?”