Brennan was trying to keep from sobbing. “What are you talking about? Why are you doing this?”

I grinned. “Because I can. And there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”

Chapter 33

I couldn’t believe how thrilling it was to have this much power over another person. It almost made me understand why Brennan had done some of the things he had. Now it was time to explain exactly what was about to happen as I stood in front of him, holding the gun in a remarkably steady hand.

“It’s really a simple story. The key is to always keep things simple. Marty asked to go for one final drive together. Then he pulled the gun, the Walther PPK you gave me as a present. He must’ve gotten it out of my nightstand at the hotel. Then he forced me to drive here so he could prove he loved me, because he was, you know, crazy.

“He came into the house and you shot each other. I was terrified and fled upstairs to call 911. Simple and believable.”

Brennan just stared at me. “But why? This could ruin your whole life. What do you really have to gain?”

I let out a quick laugh. I’d never realized Brennan could be so funny. Then I looked at him with a deadpan stare and said, “You have no will. I checked the wall safe the other day when we were here. And I know you’re far too cocky to leave it with an attorney.”

Brennan had a real hitch in his voice now. “So what? We’re divorced. What good does all this do you?”

“Actually, we’re in the process of divorcing. We might even reconcile. If you die intestate—that means with no will—I get my house back. It’s really all I wanted. I couldn’t care less if you live or die. And frankly, I would’ve preferred a nice fella like Marty to live with. But shit happens.”

“I can make this right, I swear. You can have the house. You can have a great settlement. You name it.”

“It’s a little late to negotiate, Brennan. You had your chance to do this the right way. Now I’ve just turned it into a big game. A game of make-believe. Let’s make believe we’re part of a fantastic murder mystery. Now you have to make believe you’re going to die.”

I let that realization dawn on him so I could see it in his face. It was amazing. One moment he thought I was ranting and raving, and the next he realized I was following through on a carefully laid-out plan.

I said, “Every game has a winner and a loser. I’m afraid in this one you’re the loser, babe.” I squeezed the trigger and the gun jumped in my hand. The bullet flew a little high, hitting Brennan in the upper chest. He toppled backward and fell with a thud on the hard floor, gurgling for a few seconds. This time the noise didn’t shock me so much and the gunpowder smell wasn’t as jolting. Everything is easier the second time around. Even shooting a man.