“Don’t make it worse. Turn yourself in.”
He laughed. “It can’t get worse for me.” He showed her the gun he had on Josh. “Give me your gun.”
“Let the boy go. Let him go. You don’t want to hurt a child.”
“Put your gun on the floor and kick it to me. That’s what they say in the movies, right?” As if demonstrating his knowledge of the theater, he pointed the gun directly at Josh’s head.
Against every instinct, she removed her gun from her fanny pack, placed it on the floor, and kicked it to Brandon.
“Go in the kitchen,” he commanded.
She did, glancing at Josh. “It’s going to be okay, Josh. Focus on me, okay?”
Josh was small for his eight years, with large, trusting brown eyes. Just like Justin’s.
No way in hell was Carina going to get Josh killed.
“Josh, you with me?” she asked quietly.
“Shut up,” Brandon said. Josh squirmed, but Brandon pulled the boy close.
Brandon looked her dead in the eye, gun on the kid. “Denise told me Kyle was here. Where is he?”
“I’m right here.”
Kyle walked through the kitchen doors, hands up.
They stood in the parking lot behind two SWAT vans looking at blueprints of the Sand Shack. Nick, Detective Dean Robertson, SWAT team leader Tom Blade, and several cops. Dean was in charge, and Dillon was on the radio.
“We have line of sight into all areas of the main dining hall. There’s only one window in the kitchen”-Dean placed his finger on the northern wall-“here.”
“My men have line of sight into the kitchen and my top marksman is holding at this position.” Blade pointed to an area on the map thirty yards away. “And another man here”-he pointed-“has sights on the back door. According to my men, Burns has Detective Kincaid and a minor child in the kitchen.”
“What about the bathroom windows?” Nick asked.
“They’re small split glass, no way an adult could fit through,” Blade said.
“We’ve secured the main doors. I want to send men into the main dining hall, but we can’t tell if he’s watching. If he stands here, by the kitchen doors, he’ll be able to see anyone who enters.”
“So we wait,” Dean said. “Let Dillon Kincaid try to negotiate a surrender. He’ll be here in twenty minutes.”
“Sir,” Blade interrupted, “isn’t that a conflict? His sister’s in there.”
“Not for me,” Dillon said over the radio. “But we might not have the time. Burns is agitated. He feels trapped. He can and will do anything to get away. Remember, he has nothing to lose.”
“I agree,” Nick said.
“Do we have a line of sight on Kyle Burns?” Dillon asked.
Blade responded. “No, but he hasn’t left the building.”
“He’s in there,” Nick said, pointing to the kitchen. “My instincts tell me he’s right in the middle.”
“Carina said in her last conversation with me that Kyle was being helpful,” Dillon said, “but we need to be cautious.”
“I’ll go in,” Nick said.
“You’re out of your jurisdiction, Sheriff,” Blade countered. “My men have this covered.”
Dillon said, “Sheriff Thomas has experience with killers like Burns. Wire him and let him go in.”
Dean looked from Blade to Nick, nodded. “We’ll position men in the main dining hall if we’re able. Stay away from the kitchen window.”
Nick nodded. He pushed down his fear for Carina’s safety. This was part of the job. She was a fellow officer. His goal was to get the boy and Carina out alive.
Dillon said, “We’ll try talking first, urge him to put down his weapon and release the hostages. But our primary goal is to separate him from the hostages.”
“I understand,” Nick said as Blade fitted him with a Kevlar vest and wired him. If Brandon didn’t voluntarily surrender, their only choice would be to take him down.
“I’m patched through to your frequency,” Dillon said to Nick. “I’ll give you whatever help I can. But trust your instincts, Nick. They’re solid.”
“Ready?” Dean asked him.
“Ready.”
Brandon stared at Kyle.
“When I was talking to you on the phone, you were here. You were here with
“I don’t know what you mean,” Kyle said.
“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid!”
“Put down the gun, Brandon, please. Don’t do this.”
Brandon kept the gun on Josh. Carina had to find a way to distract him. Get him to release the kid. Brandon was standing close to the kitchen doors, his back against the counter. Josh was in front of him. Carina was also in front of him about four feet away, her butt up against the butcher-block-style work island. The stove was to her right, and Kyle was between the doors and the stove.
The work island was full of partially cut vegetables. A seven-inch-long knife rested on the edge, only a foot from Carina’s hand. Knife versus gun and hostage. Not fair odds, but it might be useful.
Brandon had put her gun high on the shelving unit inside the doors to his left, her right. Not easily accessible, as she’d have to stretch to reach it, but not impossible if he were distracted.
“Brandon, I can help you,” Carina said, diverting his attention to her as she continued to assess the situation and Brandon’s state of mind.
“Shut up. You’re a woman. Women lie.”
“But I’m a cop. Leah’s alive, Brandon.”
He shook his head. “I don’t believe you.”
“It’s true. She’s on her way to the hospital right now. Right before you left the house you tied a garbage bag over her head, but you didn’t wait for her to die. You left. I arrived at your house as you were leaving. Another officer jumped out and found Leah as I followed you.”
“I’m not stupid,” he said. It seemed to be important to him that he be seen as smart, Carina thought. Okay, she could play with that.
“No, you’re not stupid, Brandon. In fact, you’re one of the smartest killers I’ve ever faced.”
“I’m not a killer.”
He said the words without emotion or meaning. He didn’t believe it.
“You almost got away with it,” she said, keeping eye contact with Brandon. Kyle was inching across the room, heading slowly toward the stove. “We had nothing after Angie. You did a good job cleaning her body. We had no evidence.”
A small, smug smile cracked Brandon’s lips, but he didn’t say anything.
“It was Becca that screwed you up.”
“You’re lying.
“We have proof,” she said. “DNA evidence.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Believe it. Plastic attracts hair. We know you covered Angie with a wool-cotton-blend blanket when you suffocated her. But you didn’t put a blanket on Becca. You wrapped her in plastic wrap, but you laid on top of her as she died. Your hair attached to the plastic.”
“Now I know you’re lying. I shaved my body.” He moved Josh to the side and pulled down his pants just enough to show that he had in fact shaved.
“I didn’t say pubic hair,” she answered quietly. But her mind wasn’t on what she was saying. She was staring at Brandon’s navel. Four rings, including the missing earrings from Becca and Jodi, protruded. One hoop had the shell, leaf, and rose charms of the navel ring in one of Angie’s online pictures.
