Brandon kept the gun on Josh. Carina had to find a way to distract him. Get him to release the kid. Brandon was standing close to the kitchen doors, his back against the counter. Josh was in front of him. Carina was also in front of him about four feet away, her butt up against the butcher-block-style work island. The stove was to her right, and Kyle was between the doors and the stove.

The work island was full of partially cut vegetables. A seven-inch-long knife rested on the edge, only a foot from Carina’s hand. Knife versus gun and hostage. Not fair odds, but it might be useful.

Brandon had put her gun high on the shelving unit inside the doors to his left, her right. Not easily accessible, as she’d have to stretch to reach it, but not impossible if he were distracted.

“Brandon, I can help you,” Carina said, diverting his attention to her as she continued to assess the situation and Brandon’s state of mind.

“Shut up. You’re a woman. Women lie.”

“But I’m a cop. Leah’s alive, Brandon.”

He shook his head. “I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true. She’s on her way to the hospital right now. Right before you left the house you tied a garbage bag over her head, but you didn’t wait for her to die. You left. I arrived at your house as you were leaving. Another officer jumped out and found Leah as I followed you.”

“I’m not stupid,” he said. It seemed to be important to him that he be seen as smart, Carina thought. Okay, she could play with that.

“No, you’re not stupid, Brandon. In fact, you’re one of the smartest killers I’ve ever faced.”

“I’m not a killer.”

He said the words without emotion or meaning. He didn’t believe it.

“You almost got away with it,” she said, keeping eye contact with Brandon. Kyle was inching across the room, heading slowly toward the stove. “We had nothing after Angie. You did a good job cleaning her body. We had no evidence.”

A small, smug smile cracked Brandon’s lips, but he didn’t say anything.

“It was Becca that screwed you up.”

“You’re lying. Again,” he added for emphasis.

“We have proof,” she said. “DNA evidence.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Believe it. Plastic attracts hair. We know you covered Angie with a wool-cotton-blend blanket when you suffocated her. But you didn’t put a blanket on Becca. You wrapped her in plastic wrap, but you laid on top of her as she died. Your hair attached to the plastic.”

“Now I know you’re lying. I shaved my body.” He moved Josh to the side and pulled down his pants just enough to show that he had in fact shaved.

“I didn’t say pubic hair,” she answered quietly. But her mind wasn’t on what she was saying. She was staring at Brandon’s navel. Four rings, including the missing earrings from Becca and Jodi, protruded. One hoop had the shell, leaf, and rose charms of the navel ring in one of Angie’s online pictures.

Carina swallowed her revulsion.

“Do you know why I was asking questions about your father? Because the DNA evidence we found was a close-blood-relative match. That means that a brother, son, nephew, uncle, or first cousin of your father left his DNA on the body of Becca Harrison.”

“Not possible.” Brandon shook his head.

“It’s just us,” Carina said. “You, me, and your brother. No one else will know. But it’s been bugging me since the beginning. Why did you kill Angie? Was it because of her sex diaries? Was it because she wouldn’t go out with you? Why?”

Brandon turned his full attention to her and for the first time, Carina was scared.

There was no soul in Brandon’s ice-blue eyes.

“She was the girl on the tape,” he said simply.

“What tape?” she asked.

He didn’t elaborate, but said almost as cryptically, “When I saw her website I knew it was her, even though she was supposed to be dead. And then she walked into the Shack and everything came together. I’d been watching her on the computer for nearly a year, and she’s real. It was meant to happen. She already died once.”

Carina didn’t know if Brandon really believed what he was saying or if it was some stunt. She pushed.

“What about Becca? Becca Harrison had no Web page, she didn’t look or act like Angie. Why her?”

“Because I couldn’t have Jodi.”

Nick was right, Carina thought. He took Becca because he couldn’t get to the girl he really wanted.

“But why her and not some random woman off the street?”

“She was nice to me.”

Carina forced her face to remain blank at the killer’s revelation. Brandon had lowered his gun. He was still holding on to Josh’s shoulder with his left hand, but his gun hand was level with his leg.

“Why Leah?” Kyle asked, turning Brandon’s attention from Carina to him. “Why did you take Leah? You know her. You’ve always liked her, you said so after I told you Maggie and I were dating.”

“Because Leah reminded me of Becca.”

That didn’t make sense to Carina, but she didn’t push it. Brandon was getting a faraway look in his eyes and she sensed that she would need to act soon or everyone could end up dead. By this time the SWAT team had to be in place. They’d have the building surrounded. She glanced at the partly open slats in the single kitchen window on the wall between the small office and the walk-in storage unit, which led to the service entrance. SWAT would have a view of the people in the kitchen, but Brandon wasn’t at the right angle. Worse, she was between Brandon and the window.

She looked at Josh. The kid was frightened, but he stood straight. The only sign that he was scared was the way his wide brown eyes darted from her to Kyle and back again. Pleading with her to save him.

For a brief moment she pictured her nephew’s large brown eyes pleading with his killer, begging for his life.

Not now, Kincaid. It wouldn’t do her any good to think that way. She caught Josh’s eye and made a connection. Trust me.

“Brandon, what have you done?” Kyle’s voice barely registered, and Carina focused on the scene unfolding in front of her. Kyle had stepped closer to his brother, his hands out, palms up. “You killed Angie? You killed those other women?”

“You’d never understand,” Brandon said.

“No, I don’t. For years I’ve been trying to forget about our father and how he fucked up our lives, and here you are pulling the same shit.”

“Don’t talk to me about Dad! Don’t you see? This is my chance to find him. She”-he waved the gun toward Carina-“knows where he is.”

“I don’t know where he is,” Carina said.

Brandon glared at her. “You were asking questions about him. You’re looking for him, right?”

“He’s wanted by LAPD for rape,” Carina said.

“No, no, you have it all wrong,” Brandon said, moving the gun from Josh to Carina and back. “She lied. She had sex with my dad and then lied about it to get him in trouble.”

“That’s Mom talking!” Kyle exclaimed.

Brandon’s attention turned back to Kyle, and Carina nodded, hoping Kyle saw her. Keep him talking, Kyle. Keep him focused on you.

She inched toward the stove. It was off-the cook had heard about the fictitious gas leak-but the oil for the fries was still hot. If she could get Josh away from Brandon, she might have a distraction until she could get to her clutch piece, the small twenty-two she had tucked in her back waistband.

But Josh had to be safe before she made any aggressive move.

“You always talked shit about Dad,” Brandon said. “You always believed the lies.”

“They weren’t lies! Don’t you see?”

“Stop. Just stop it! I’m going to find Dad and then you’ll see.”

“You won’t find him! He’s dead!”

Brandon stared at Kyle, eyes wide and disbelieving. “You don’t know that. You don’t know anything.

“I know he’s dead because I killed him,” Kyle said, taking a step toward Brandon. “I killed him. He deserved it.”