“Killed is such a dirty word, isn’t it?” Lacey said. “I helped him ease his pain. He had some ugly wounds from our time together.”

“Ease his pain with a gunshot through his palate,” Izzy said.

“Hmm, no. I’ve never killed anyone, Detective,” Lacey corrected. “I simply gave him options. That was the one he chose.”

Suicide. The case had always been an odd combination of murder and suicide. Now it made sense. It had been both.

“What about Earl?” Izzy kept pushing. Mia shifted toward the mantel. The jewelry box, with its hard points. That’s what Izzy would go for if she were Mia.

Don’t do anything dumb. Please, Izzy tacked on, even if the request was trapped in her own brain.

“I heard Earl found some pills.” Lacey pouted. “So tragic when they aren’t kept locked up tightly.”

Izzy tapped her foot once. She could tell Mia’s attention wasn’t on them.

“And your mother?”

Lacey flinched, visibly.

“Mother smoked,” Lacey said finally, and this time the waver in her voice actually seemed real. “Nasty habit.”

“I wonder how she fell asleep, though,” Izzy said in a faux-curious tone. “With a lit cigarette. Seems awfully irresponsible.” Izzy paused. “And don’t you have a penchant for dipping into Daddy’s medicine cabinet?”

Lacey glanced at Mia, furtive almost, then back to Izzy. “Mother was depressed. She took all kinds of pills to help her sleep.”

“All right,” Izzy finally said, easily. “Then what about us?”

“What do you mean?” Lacey asked, off balance for once. Izzy did a mental fist pump over what she was going to count as a victory.

“I’m not going to shoot Mia, and she won’t shoot me.” Izzy shrugged. “You’re going to have to break your streak and actually get your hands dirty for once.”

Lacey’s mouth twisted as if she actually hadn’t considered that. Which was strange seeing as how every other thing had been planned with such immaculate attention to detail.

Her face cleared, and she lifted one shoulder. “It has to be done.”

Izzy’s breath hitched. “So you’re going to shoot us?” Izzy asked again. “Dead.”

If Lacey thought about it, the clarification would seem odd. But she was too far gone for that. Or at least Izzy hoped.

“Gold star for following along, Detective,” Lacey said slowly, but the skin near her eyes had gone tight. She was realizing it was an off note but seemed unable to stop herself from continuing. “Yes, I suppose I’ll have to do it myself.”

And there was their confession.

The world slowed down, the heady cocktail of stress and endorphins turning everything sharp and clear.

Izzy tipped her head back. “Now,” she yelled, so loud that the waves of it crashed against the walls and pushed out into the night.