Paul’s tone was a snarl. “‘Go, see now this cursed woman and bury her- ’ ”

“Don’t you dare throw the scriptures at me.”

“‘She hath rebelled against her God,’ ” he quoted. “‘They shall fall by the sword.’ ”

Terri obviously knew the verse. Her anger curdled the air. “Shut up, Paul.”

“‘Their infants shall be dashed in pieces… Their women with child shall be ripped up.’ ”

“‘Even the Devil can quote scripture for his cause.’ ”

He laughed, as if she had scored a point off him.

She said, “You lost your religion a million years ago.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“I don’t go around pretending it ain’t true,” she retorted, her tone getting stronger, sharper. This was the woman who had hit Dale back. This was the woman who had dared to defend herself. “Why did you kill her, Paul?” She waited, then asked, “Was it because of the insurance policies?”

Paul’s back stiffened. He hadn’t been threatened by Terri’s mention of the cyanide, but Lena guessed that the insurance policies added a whole new level to the equation.

He asked, “What do you know about that?”

“Abby told me about them, Paul. The police know.”

“What do they know?” He grabbed her arm, twisting it. Lena felt her body tense. She raised her Glock again, waiting for the right moment. “What did you tell them, you little idiot?”

“Let go of me.”

“I’ll take your head off, you stupid bitch. Tell me what you told the police.”

Lena startled as Tim came out of nowhere, running past her, nearly tumbling down the stairs to get to his mother. Lena reached for the boy and missed, pulling herself back at the last minute so that Paul wouldn’t see her.

“Mama!” the child screamed.

Terri made a surprised sound, then Lena heard her say, “Tim, go back upstairs. Mama’s talking to Uncle Paul.”

“Come here, Tim,” Paul said, and Lena ’s stomach lurched as his little feet tapped their way down the stairs.

“No-” Terri protested; then: “Tim, come away from him.”

“Come on, big guy,” Paul said, and Lena chanced a quick look. Paul was holding Tim in his arms, the child’s legs wrapped around his waist. Lena pulled back, knowing if Paul turned around he would see her. She mouthed “Fuck,” cursing herself for not taking the shot when she could. Across the hall, she glimpsed Rebecca in the nursery, reaching out to pull the closet door shut. In Lena ’s mind, she cursed even harder, damning the girl for her inability to hold on to the boy.

Lena glanced into the foyer, trying to assess the situation. Paul’s back was still to her, but Tim clung tightly to him, his spindly little arm hooked around Paul’s shoulders as he watched his mother. At this distance, there was no telling what kind of damage her nine-millimeter would do. The bullet could rip through Paul’s body and go right into Tim’s. She could kill the child instantly.

“Please,” Terri said, and Paul could have been holding her own life in his hands the way she was acting. “Let him go.”

“Tell me what you told the police,” Paul said.

“Nothing. I didn’t tell them anything.”

Paul didn’t buy it. “Did Abby leave those policies with you, Terri? Is that what she did?”

“Yes,” Terri said, her voice trembling. “I’ll give them to you. Please, just let him go.”

“You get them now and then we’ll talk.”

“Please, Paul. Let him go.”

“Go get the policies.”

Terri was obviously not a practiced liar. When she said, “They’re in the garage,” Lena knew Paul saw right through her. Still, he said, “Go get them. I’ll watch Tim.”

Terri must have hesitated, because Paul raised his voice, saying, “Now!” so loudly that Terri screamed. When he spoke again, his tone was back to normal, and somehow to Lena it was more frightening. “You’ve got thirty seconds, Terri.”

“I don’t-”

“Twenty-nine… twenty-eight…”

The front door slammed open and she was gone. Lena stood utterly still, her heart thumping like a drum.

Downstairs, Paul spoke as if he was talking to Tim, but made sure his voice was loud enough to carry. “You think your aunt Rebecca’s upstairs, Tim?” he asked, cheerful, almost teasing. “Why don’t we go see if your aunt Rebecca’s up there, huh? See if she’s hiding out like the little rat she is…”

Tim made a noise Lena couldn’t understand.

“That’s right, Tim,” Paul said, like they were playing a game. “We’ll go up and talk to her, and then we’ll beat her face. You like that, Tim? We’ll beat her face until her bones crack. We’ll make sure Aunt Becca’s pretty little face is so broken that no one ever wants to look at it again.”

Lena listened, waiting for him to climb the stairs so that she could blow his head off his shoulders. He did not. Obviously, this taunting was part of the game for him. Even knowing this, the dread that filled her at the sound of his voice could not be stopped. She wanted so badly to hurt him, to shut him up forever. No one should ever have to hear him again.

The door opened and slammed shut. Terri was out of breath, her words tumbling over one another. “I couldn’t find them,” she said. “I looked-”

Fuck, Lena thought. Dale’s gun. No.

Paul said, “You’ll forgive me if I’m not surprised.”

“What are you going to do?” Terri’s voice was still shaking, but there was something underneath the fear, some hidden knowledge that gave her power. She must have gotten the revolver. She must have thought she could do something to stop him.

Tim said something and Paul laughed. “That’s right,” he agreed, then told Terri, “Tim thinks his aunt Rebecca is up there.”

Lena heard another sound, this time a click. She recognized it instantly- a hammer being pulled back on a gun.

Paul was surprised, but hardly alarmed. “Where’d you get that?”

“It’s Dale’s,” she said, and Lena felt her gut clench. “I know how to use it.”

Paul laughed as if the gun was made of plastic. Lena peered over the top of the stairs, watching him walk toward Terri. She had missed her chance. He had the kid now. She should have confronted him on the stairs. She should have taken him then. Why the fuck had she listened to Jeffrey? She should’ve just swung around the corner and emptied her gun into the bastard’s chest.

Paul said, “There’s a big difference between knowing how to use a gun and actually using it,” and Lena felt the cut to his words, hating herself for her indecision. Goddamn Jeffrey and his orders. She knew how to handle herself. She should’ve listened to her gut in the first place.

Terri said, “Just get out, Paul.”

“You gonna use that thing?” he asked. “Maybe you’ll hit Tim?” He was teasing her like it was a game. “Come on. See what kind of shot you are.” Lena could see him clearly, closing the space between him and Terri, Tim in his arms. He was actually jostling the child, goading his niece. “Come on, Genie, let’s see you do it. Shoot your own baby. You’ve already killed one, right? What’s another?”

Terri’s hands were shaking. She had the gun up in front of her, legs spread apart, palm supporting the butt of the revolver. Her determination seemed to falter more with every step he took closer.

“You stupid whore,” he taunted. “Go on, shoot me.” He was only a foot away from her. “Pull the trigger, little girl. Show me how tough you are. Stand up for yourself for once in your pathetic little life.” Finally, he reached out and grabbed the gun from her, saying, “You stupid bitch.”

“Let him go,” she pleaded. “Just let him go and leave.”

“Where are those papers?”

“I burned them.”

“You lying slut!” He slammed the revolver into her left cheek. Terri fell to the floor, blood sloshing out of her mouth.

Lena felt her own teeth start to ache as if Paul had hit her and not Terri. She had to do something. She had to stop this. Without thinking, she went to her knees, then flattened her chest to the floor. Procedure said she should identify herself, give Paul the opportunity to drop the gun. She knew there was no chance he would surrender. Men like Paul didn’t give up if they thought there was a chance of escape. Right now, he had two chances: one on his hip, the other on the floor.