Free Rhymes With Prey by Jeffery Deaver

hundred feet out.”
    Lily turned away from the door, as if giving up, then saw Andy and his bag. Andy stopped under the only nearby streetlight, and Lily walked down the steps and called, “Police. Is that you, Andy? Wait there.”
    If he ran, they’d have to try something different.
    He didn’t run. He said, “You’re the cop who killed my father.”
    â€œThat’s right. I have a few questions for you. We’re trying to find out how a piece of brass, a shell from a nine-millimeter cartridge, got into a gun that was used in another killing. You may have heard about it. After I thought about it, Andy, there’s only one way, isn’t there? You picked it up. We froze the crime scene, but you were right in the middle of it, with your father. What did you do, step on it? Kneel on it? You were kneeling right next to him.”
    Lucas, watching from the window, saw Andy do something with his left hand, his free hand; something in the pocket of his jacket. Couldn’t see what, but Lily didn’t seem worried; but then she might not have been able to see the move. She pushed him, still talking. “Found the kill room, and found some DNA that shouldn’t have been there. Not much, a few flakes of skin, but good enough for us. So, I have a warrant. We need a DNA sample from you. It won’t hurt. I have a kit, we need you to scrub a swab against your gums.”
    â€œI knelt on it,” Andy said.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI knelt on it. The shell. I didn’t try to do that, I just knelt on it by accident. When I saw what it was, I put it in my pocket.”
    â€œAnd you reloaded it.”
    â€œOf course. My pop and I reloaded everything. When you shoot a lot, you don’t want to waste all that brass. We saved more than half, except that we shot more.”
    â€œWho killed the women? You or Verlaine?”
    â€œNot Verlaine.” Andy laughed, and dropped his grocery sack by his ankle. “We had the same interests, but he never had the guts to do anything real. He just liked to get the women in there and pose them like slave girls and make his sculptures, and then he’d go around to the S&M clubs and brag about it. But he had that room down in the basement where he kept his finished work—he had that big steel door because the metal thieves will take that bronze shit and melt it right down—but that was perfect. I’d get the girls down there and do what I wanted. What he dreamed about. You ever had a slave? There’s nothing like it.”
    â€œWhy’d you kill him?”
    â€œBecause of you. I didn’t even know how close you were to finding him, even with all those clues I left for you. All those brass filings. But I had that shell, and a shell is a terrible thing to waste. You killed my pop. I thought they’d put you in prison, so you’d have all that time to think about it.”
    â€œWhy those victims, Andy? Why those particular women?”
    But he didn’t answer, just stepped closer. Fist coming out of his pocket.
    Lucas stepped through the door with his gun and shouted, “He’s got something in his hand, Lily, he’s got something.”
    Lily jumped back, but Andy was right with her, grabbed her by the collar and yanked her back, looking around. “Stay away. Stay away,” he screamed. “I got a scalpel, I’ll cut her face off.”
    Amelia and the other cops emerged from the stairway across the street and spread out.
    â€œGet away. Get away or I’ll cut her throat, I swear to God, I’ll cut her fuckin’ throat.”
    He yanked Lily backward, and Lily called to Lucas, “I can’t reach my gun. It got stuck under the damn vest when he pulled me back.”
    Lucas: “Can you go down?”
    â€œMaybe.”
    â€œDon’t try anything. I just want to go away. I walk her up the block and I—”
    Lily, using both hands, grabbed his knife arm and