The kid started crying again. He could hear her high, whiny voice through the walls. He didn't want to hurt the girl, but he was running out of options. He stalked out of the kitchen and across the living room. He'd kept the shades down and the lights off. He pounded on the bedroom door on the far side. "Shut up!"

Her little voice responded, "I want—"

"I don't give a flying..." He stopped short of the word and shook his head at his own stupidity. Murder, sure, but God forbid he should swear at a child. He pounded the door again, finished his sentence, and added, "Shut up, or I'll shut you up."

The girl's cries turned to whimpers. At least he wouldn't be able to hear the muted sound in the kitchen.

He couldn't stay in the living room. The sight of the blood brought it all back.

If Leslie had just kept her stupid mouth shut. But no, she decided—long after it was too late—that maybe her sister didn't have the money after all. She'd been sure. Completely convinced. And then she'd gotten cold feet. She'd started talking about how to give the kid back without getting caught. He'd screamed at her. "It's my money."

And the waterworks had started. "You never loved me at all, did you? It was all about the money." When she'd started for the kid's room, he'd had no choice. She'd have ruined everything.

He'd had to kill her.

He stomped back to the kitchen, leaned against the sticky countertop, and looked at his hands. Had he always been capable of murder? Or had the circumstances changed him?

If he didn't move and strained to hear, he could still hear the kid crying.

What was he going to do with her?

Chapter 18

LESLIE. MURDERED.

The words weren't making sense, because her sister couldn't be dead. She couldn't be. Leslie had been Marisa's caretaker, her confidant, her companion. The idea that she could be gone...

Thank God it wasn't Ana.

Ana.

"Oh, my God. My baby."

"There's no sign of her," Garrison said.

"He's going to kill her."

Nate reached for her, but she angled away and focused on Garrison. "Did they find anything that made them think...?" She closed her eyes to block out the image of her daughter's beautiful body, dumped in an alley, dead and deserted. Gone.

Nausea rose to her throat, and she jumped off the truck and stepped a few feet away before losing her breakfast. After emptying her stomach, she staggered further into the grassy area and fell to her hands and knees.

Leslie was dead. Dead, dead, dead.

Forever.

And maybe it was Leslie's own fault for getting involved with that guy. Maybe she'd let greed and envy rule her. Maybe she'd gotten in over her head.

No chance for redemption now.

Dead, dead, dead.