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Delaney shook her head. “I’m not an idiot.”
“You didn’t know,” Gabriela interjected. “That I was miked on the beach, right? You didn’t know.”
Delaney’s jaw tightened. “No. But that doesn’t matter. I went there looking for you.”
“Because we wanted to draw you out,” Raisa said. The more they kept Delaney arguing, the better for them. Maybe St. Ivany would lookaround and wonder where Raisa had disappeared to. Maybe the boat would rock enough to throw off Delaney’s balance. Maybe Gabbi could get out of the hold and give Raisa a free shot. “Delaney, Gabriela was the bait. Not the killer.”
“She’s actually both,” Delaney said, sounding more rankled than Raisa had ever heard her. Usually, she was the calm one, the rational one. But she was frustrated. “And she admitted it.”
Raisa met Gabriela’s eyes, and she shook her head, almost imperceptibly.
“I came here looking for Essi, and Delaney followed me,” Gabriela said. “She started yelling about how I’m just like Isabel and I deserve to die.”
“Shut up,” Delaney snapped, shaking Gabriela. Raisa held her breath, and Gabriela winced but didn’t cry out. “You’re lying. You’re good at it, but not that good.”
Delaney met Raisa’s eyes. “I have it recorded.”
Raisa’s quick surprise was tempered by her history with Delaney. “Okay. Why don’t we listen to that after you’ve put down your weapon.”
Delaney simply pressed the barrel tighter against Gabriela’s head. “Don’t move.”
And with that, she released her grip on the girl.
Raisa’s finger twitched toward the trigger, but she didn’t touch it yet.
Delaney dipped a hand into her pocket, dug around for something. But she came up empty.
“What ...?” She took her eyes off Raisa long enough to look down at her palm. Again, Raisa ran a quick risk calculation, but it was still too dangerous now to do anything.
“What ...,” Delaney said again, this time less of a question. Then she huffed out a breath. “You stole it.”
“No, I didn’t,” Raisa replied, before realizing the accusation hadn’t been directed at her.
Delaney was staring at Gabriela. And in the next breath, Delaney shifted so that she had her weapon pressed against Gabriela’s forehead.
Gabriela was shaking. Her eyes darted, in a panic, to Raisa before returning to Delaney. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, ho, ho, little girl thinks she’s so clever,” Delaney purred, sounding so much like Isabel that Raisa nearly reeled back. Delaney drew a pattern on Gabriela’s forehead with the gun. “Little lying girl.”
Gabriela didn’t say anything, but she was staring at Delaney just like Raisa was.
Like they were watching Isabel’s ghost in action.
Raisa’s throat went dry, and she tried to swallow. Tried to regain control of her body.
“Little girl thinks she can fill some pretty big boots,” Delaney cooed. “But all she’s doing is playing dress-up in Mama’s clothing.”
“Delaney,” Raisa said, her voice coming out a croak. She had never realized that Delaney wassodifferent from Isabel until seeing her now don Isabel’s persona.
Raisa had been struggling this entire time to picture Delaney killing Peter, killing Lindsey, killing Emily in such a gruesome manner. But she hadn’t been Delaney at the time.
She’d been Isabel.
Raisa should have realized it, when she’d seen how she was dressed for the bonfire, where they’d sent Gabriela in as helpless bait.
Delaney had looked different. She’d been dressed up as this—a huntress. A sociopath. A killer.
Isabel.