Grabbing McNab had been the easy part. Cade had been waiting for him in the parking lot of the police station. All he’d needed to do was shove a gun against the man’s back and McNab had gotten back into his car and, with Cade in the backseat still pointing the gun, had driven them to where Cade had directed he go.

They’d ditched the guy’s car and switched to Cade’s SUV, making the trip back to the old pedo’s house in silence. Because Cade had tied and gagged McNab.

He’d figured the man would sing like a fucking canary once he saw Cade’s face and realized he was the one from the news, but McNab hadn’t. He’d been terrified, but he hadn’t given Michael up.

Cade was regretting showing McNab his face. A guy like Andrew McNab didn’t deserve to die, but now he’d have to kill him.

“I’m going to ask you one last time,” Cade said, because even though he admired the guy, McNab was trying his patience. “Did Michael Rowland provide the police with my description?”

McNab groaned. His face was pretty messed up. I might have been more impatient than I thought I was.

Cade’s knuckles were beginning to swell, so he pulled his gun from its holster and aimed it at the interpreter’s head. “Last chance,” he said with true regret.

McNab rolled to his back so that he looked up, meeting Cade’s gaze squarely. “You’re going to kill me either way. So why would I tell you anything?”

It was a fair question. “So it doesn’t hurt anymore?”

“So it’s not my last chance,” McNab said.

Annoyed, Cade kicked him hard. McNab coughed, but looked at him defiantly. “Why are you asking me? Why not just kill Michael and be done with it?”

Cade blinked. “Because he’s just a kid. I have to be sure.”

“Well, you’ll need to get your guarantee from somebody else.” McNab spat, his spittle tinged with blood. “I’m not going to help you kill that kid.” He cradled his broken rib with one arm. “He’s been through enough.”

“So you did interpret for him?” Cade was pleased. The man hadn’t even admitted that much until now.

Something flickered in McNab’s slitted eyes, nearly swollen shut. But Cade saw it. Dismay. McNab hadn’t meant to say that.

“Thank you,” Cade said. “Close your eyes. It’ll be easier.”

The defiance was back in the interpreter’s eyes. “How will you talk to him?”

Cade blinked again. “What?”

“Are you going to just shoot him in the head or are you going to bring him here and beat him to death?”

Cade flinched. “I . . . I’m not sure.” He hadn’t thought that far. “Probably just shoot him.”

“Just like that? You aren’t going to tell him why?”