I moved toward him. “Let her go.”

“No.” He shook his head. “Not again.”

“Then let her hear first. You can’t be afraid, not the way you’ve maneuvered me.”

The gun didn’t move. Only the keenness of his look disclosed interest. “So you understand that, too.”

“I understand it all. You gave me the will so that I’d be the one to find Lydia. You knew I’d give it to the police to protect Henry. The will provided them Jason as a suspect and you an excuse to force yourself on Henry and control me. You counted on that: you’d run my life for seven years. And you wanted one last contest with Krissy as the prize.”

Kris Ann covered her face. A close volley of thunder exploded, rattling the windows. I talked through it. “It began falling apart when Henry came home. You knew he would be gone that night, but you must have been sick to find out where he had been, and with whom. So you helped him lie, knowing—as he did not—that Bayles’ exposure would reveal you as the murderer.

“Rayfield made it harder. He hated you and knew Henry was gay. Then they discovered Mooring’s semen. Rayfield didn’t know whose it was, but you must have. You were almost caught. But your interest and Mooring’s were identical: he didn’t want to be uncovered and although he didn’t know why, you couldn’t withstand it. For twenty-eight years since, you changed the course of his life, and he never knew.

“When I uncovered Mooring I wanted to protect Henry. So like a fool I hid what I knew from Rayfield and protected you instead.”

Wind and rain began howling on the porch behind me. Kris Ann wept at Cade’s feet. His stare over the gun sight was filled with rage and loathing. I spoke faster. “Henry and you were locked in a terrible contest. Henry didn’t want Bayles exposed and you’d concealed the link between your blackmail and the murder by covering her divorce plans with the fake will. But he had enough suspicion to ask me to investigate and enough guts to insist on that to you. It wasn’t my favor to him. It was his favor to me. We were friends—”

“Likes attract,” Cade said contemptuously. “The weak and the envious.”

“I don’t envy the strength it took to mutilate Krissy’s picture.” Her face raised from her hands. “That was him, too,” I told her. “All through this he’s tried to make me afraid of losing you to a murderer, or to him. I didn’t know that they were the same man.”

Cade looked down at Kris Ann. His gun wavered slightly. I calculated the distance between us. “Please,” Cade was saying. “He never cared for you. I proved that with the picture.”