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It wasn’t too late. She could still do all of those things and probably have most of them done within twenty-four hours. A more measured approach was best. If she only got one shot at getting a confession from Carter, she needed to be as well-prepared as possible.
Molly giggled, drawing another glance from Dean. Carter murmured something in her ear. She wriggled in his hold. From where she stood, it looked like Carter was digging in the pocket of his suit jacket for something. A moment later, a lollipop appeared in his hand. He offered it to Molly with more whispered words. That kept her occupied for about thirty more seconds. Then she started digging in his pockets.
Dean was staying with his brother and Erin was an attentive mother. Surely, the girls would be safe for another day or two. What reason would Carter have to harm them?
“Turner,” Josie said. “We should talk to them another ti—”
“Mol,” Carter barked loudly enough to be heard at the back of the church.
Josie tensed. Pastor Deegan faltered for a split second before continuing his prayer. Dean turned his head to speak to Carter and froze. Molly held a lipstick in her hand. A very familiar lipstick. Even from her vantage point, Josie could make out the red casing with the black devil’s tail dipping into flames.
“Holy shit,” Turner said.
Josie tried to quell her rising nausea. She wasn’t sure what was worse—that Carter had brought the lipstick to his sister-in-law’s funeral after what he’d done to her, or seeing it in little Molly’s hand.
Dean stared at it, flummoxed, his skin ashen. Carter tried snatching it from Molly’s hands, but she started playing keep away. It took three tries for him to get it back. He stuffed it back into his pocket and faced forward as if nothing had happened but Dean was still gaping at him. He said something to his brother. Josie couldn’t hear him but she could read his lips.
Why the hell do you have that?
Carter stood abruptly, Molly in his arms, and mumbled something to his wife as he carried her through toward a door near the front of the church.
“You owe me a hundred bucks,” Josie said, before sprinting in the direction Carter had gone.
Fifty-Three
Josie was aware of several pairs of eyes in the crowd following her, as well as Turner calling for her to wait up, but there was no time to look back. She burst through the door. The hall stretched in both directions. From the left she thought she heard Molly’s voice. “Why do you have a lipstick, Daddy?”
Josie ran toward the sound, seeing a flash of Carter’s suit as he made a right at the end of the hall. She caught up to him as he slipped through an unmarked black door and pushed inside after him. As the door snicked closed behind her, he whipped around, eyes wide with surprise.
“What are you doing here?”
Josie took a fleeting glance around them. They were in a library. Shelves of books were lined up in neat rows. A children’s play area was set up with a colorful carpet, bins of toys, a small table and chairs with crayons and coloring books on it. A few circular tables with matching chairs dotted the area in front of the shelves. Along the walls, daylight filtered through tall windows covered by sheer curtains.
Josie did her best to appear benign and concerned. “The way you left the service—it looked like something was wrong.”
Molly was oblivious, sucking on the lollipop Carter had given her. “Nothing’s wrong,” he said defensively.
Josie stepped closer and pointed to the girl. “Is Molly okay?”
He backed up toward the rows of shelves, clutching her tightly. “Daddy, ow!” she said.
“She’s fine,” he told Josie. “She’s three. It’s hard for her to sit still for very long. I thought I’d bring her here and let her play for a while.”
“That was a good idea,” Josie said carefully.
They stared at one another for several seconds. The musty smell of old books filled Josie’s nostrils. Dust motes swirled in a shaft of sunlight that sliced through the space between them.
Josie stepped toward him, willing her heartbeat to slow down. “Why don’t you put Molly down, Carter? So she can play.”
He backed up further. “Why don’t you mind your own business? Why are you here?”
Molly twisted in his arms, eyes roving over the play area.
Josie’s fingers ached to unsnap her holster but there was no way she could take a shot with Molly in Carter’s arms should things escalate. Instead, she held up her hands to try to show him she wasn’t a threat. “I just want to talk, Carter. Put Molly down and we’ll talk.”
“Down, Daddy!” Molly demanded.
Carter ignored his daughter. “What is there to talk about?”