“That’s close enough,” Lacey said, words going sharp. She might just be realizing that it wasn’t a good idea to have them this near to each other. “Now, Detectives, I have one more thing to take care of, and I’m going to need you to be dead silent for it.”

Mia huffed out a disbelieving breath, and Lacey’s eyes snapped to hers. “I can shoot you in a very painful place, or I can shoot you in a not so painful place, precious. Your choice.”

The threat was meaningless. Mia didn’t plan on going down without a fight either way, and Lacey wouldn’t be able to control her aim in the chaos.

Lacey’s attention was divided as she dialed some number and then held the phone up to her ear.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Izzy said under her breath.

Mia went stiff as the words hit her, but she didn’t acknowledge the warning in any other way. Was Izzy planning something? Or was that just a general request?

Just then, Lacey let out a wet, broken sob. It tore through the room, pressing into all the corners and hidden spaces.

“Gina? Gina Murdoch?” Lacey struggled to get out. “I . . .”

Her voice wobbled, collapsed into sobs again. “They’re dead. They’re dead.”

There was tinny shouting on the other end. But it wasn’t clear enough to make out.

“Mia shot . . .” Lacey wavered again, breathed deep. “Detective Santiago. I tried. I tried to save her, but I . . . I . . .”

She heaved in a breath, as if she were trying to stop a panic attack. “I’m sorry,” she cried out. “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t save her.”

And then she pulled the phone away and ended the call.

When she glanced back at them, she sighed happily, her eyes dry, her smile too big for her face.

“Isn’t it all just so perfect?”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

IZZY

Izzy could practically smell the tang of Mia’s rage, but it was layered now. Confusion lingered in the tightness of her shoulders.

Don’t do anything stupid. Izzy thought it again, not willing to risk another warning.

“Wait,” Izzy called out, even though Lacey hadn’t moved to shoot them yet. “You have to tell me something. Before you, you know”—she gestured to the gun—“kill us.”

It was a distraction, and Lacey was going to fall for it. Because, Izzy guessed, if there was something Lacey loved more than anything else, it was talking about how clever she was.

“Hmm, you’re not exactly in a position to be making demands, Detective.” Lacey trailed one finger along the barrel of the gun. But that wasn’t quite a no.

“What was up with Peter?”

“Ah, Peter.” Lacey sighed. “He screamed so beautifully.”

Izzy cringed.

“Peter, Peter, Peter,” Lacey hummed. “He was very naughty, that one. He liked to snoop and found all my souvenirs.”