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“That’s why you didn’t kill her the first time,” Josie continued, the rest of her words hitching in the back of her throat when she noticed the way he was crushing Molly’s rib cage. She could only continue when he loosened his grip. “You couldn’t do it. You finally worked up the nerve and then you couldn’t do it.”

The lighter froze. Carter’s head snapped up. There was a deadness to his eyes that she hadn’t seen before.

Turner stopped moving and stayed stock-still. She knew he was hoping Carter wouldn’t notice that he was now well within tackling distance. Molly whimpered.

“I didn’t ‘work up the nerve.’”

Meaning something had triggered his attack on his mother after killing six women as surrogates for her. Josie thought back to what she knew about that first attack thirteen years ago.

“Dr. Holmes visited her. Mrs. Jones across the street saw him. Holmes said that your mom sent him away. She told him you were coming over for dinner. You saw him, didn’t you? It wasn’t the first time you’d seen him pursuing your mom. You thought she was going to choose him over you and Dean because that’s what she did. Except that she hadn’t dated since your dad left.”

“She didn’t deserve it,” he said. “Didn’t deserve to just move on from us when she’d never given us what should have been ours.”

“But you didn’t kill her.”

Carter returned his gaze to the flame, sweeping it back and forth again. “She talked me out of it. Apologized for being a shitty mother. Said that no matter how badly she’d treated me as a kid, she loved me. She promised she would be better. Do better. I didn’t believe her when she said she wouldn’t turn me in, but then she told me she couldn’t live with raising a son who turned out to be just another horrible man. She wanted a chance to help me, to make me better. Said by keeping my secret, it was her way of choosing me over everyone and everything else.”

It was sick and twisted but a parent covering up horrific crimes to protect their child was nothing new. Had Sylvia truly felt a need to protect Carter? Had she been afraid of him? Or had she felt responsible somehow?

“What did she mean when she said she wanted to help you?” Josie asked. “Make you better?”

“Daddy,” Molly whispered. “Where’s Mommy?”

Carter ignored her, focusing on the flame as he continued to dust the tops of the magazines. “The deal was that I stopped killing women and she would keep quiet. I kept my end of the bargain but she still decided to go on national television and blab about the attack.”

“Sounds like your mom didn’t believe you were holding up your end of things,” Turner said. “Why would she think that?”

“She had no reason to doubt me,” he said petulantly.

“Really?” Turner inched closer. “’Cause you’ve got a pretty solid track record of lying.”

Carter scoffed.

“You lied about finding the lipsticks on her doorstep,” Josie said. “About all of that.”

“Touché.” He gave a little chuckle. “It was just a bit of fun.”

But the way his nostrils flared at the mention of the lipsticks told her there was more to it.

“Was your mother going on national television to discuss her attack ‘just a bit of fun,’ too?” Turner asked.

Why had Sylvia done it? What kind of salvation had she thought she’d gain by giving the interview but not turning in her son? They had already sealed their fate in terms of the afterlife. Except that Sylvia had wanted to help make Carter better. Would she have done the interview if she felt he was holding up his end of their bargain? It wasn’t keeping quiet but it wasn’t telling their secret either.

“It was a threat,” Josie said as the pieces clicked into place.

Carter’s eyes snapped to hers, sharp and cold.

“Daddy, please,” Molly cried softly.

“Quiet now,” he barked, causing her to flinch.

Josie followed the warped logic. “She wanted you to know that she could and would turn you in if you didn’t keep to the agreement. Except that she didn’t give you up, which means she found something that made her think you might start killing again.”

“It was nothing. A couple of lipsticks. She didn’t understand.”

“A couple of lipsticks,” Turner echoed. “What are you talking about?”

“She found your trophy box, didn’t she?” Josie asked. “How long did she know about it? From the beginning?”