At the bottom of the stairs, Derek hooked one hand on the bannister, skidded through a one-eighty in the foyer, and ran for the back of the house. Lance followed him down the hall and through the family room into the kitchen.

Derek slid to a stop at the sliding glass door. He flung it open and bolted through the opening into the back yard. Lance ran straight through. The pause to open the slider had allowed him to catch up. He was only a few feet behind him.

What he wouldn’t give to still be on the force. He’d fry this bastard with a stun gun in a heartbeat. But it was illegal for a private citizen to own a Taser in New York State.

Lance threw everything he had into a tackle. He pushed off one foot and dove for his running target. His arms wrapped around Derek’s legs. They crashed to the ground. Derek grunted as his body bounced on the grass. He kicked to free his legs. A heel struck Lance in the head. Stars blinked in his vision, and he lost his grip on Derek for a second.

A second was all Derek needed.

He scrambled away, kicking at Lance. Another foot connected with Lance’s face. Pain speared through his forehead and blood trickled into his eye. He grabbed for Derek again but missed.

Derek got a leg under his body and stood. His steps were unsteady as he broke into a jog and headed across the yard. Lance lurched to his feet, the old wound in his thigh screaming and reminding him why he’d left the force.

Hoping his leg held out, Lance ignored the pain and sprinted after him.

Derek ran for the corner of the house. Lance kicked his stride into full gear. But his thigh burned with every step, and Derek drew a few feet farther ahead.

He was going to lose him.

Shit!

Lungs on fire, leg on fire, Lance gave the chase one last burst of energy. It was now or never.

No doubt Derek had left a car on the street somewhere. If he reached it . . .

Derek glanced over his shoulder as he ran through the shadows of the side yard. Just as he cleared the house and leaped onto the driveway, a tree branch swung from out of nowhere.

The branch clotheslined Derek. His head snapped back. His legs continued forward, and he landed on his back in the dark.

Panting, Lance stopped next to the prone body. He grabbed Derek’s arm and rolled him onto his face. A quick pat down of his pockets turned up duct tape and rope. Lance planted a knee into Derek’s lower back to pin him in place. He pulled a set of zip ties from his own pocket and used them to secure Derek’s wrists behind his back.

When Derek was restrained, Lance looked up at the shadow.

Morgan stood in the moonlight, her black hair gleaming, her face set in a determined mask.

“Thanks,” he said.

“I was hoping he would head for the street.” Morgan crossed her arms and rubbed her biceps. “The police are on the way. Are you all right?” She pointed to her own eyebrow.

Lance touched his forehead. His hand came away sticky and wet. “He kicked me in the head. It’s nothing.”

“Let me go!” Derek squirmed. “You’re not cops. You can’t keep me here.”

“I’m making a citizen’s arrest.” Lance leaned a little more weight on his knee. His thigh throbbed. “You broke in to a home armed with a weapon. And I’ll bet the police are going to find some interesting things when they search your house. You’re in big trouble, Derek.”

“They can’t search my house. Elliot will call his lawyer. Elliot fixes everything.” Derek spat at the ground. “You’ll be sorry.”

“Your brother can’t get you out of this one.” But Lance wondered how many other crimes Derek had committed.

“Why did you do it, Derek?” Morgan asked.

“I love her.” Blood trickled from the corner of Derek’s mouth. “She’s mine.”

“She’s married to Tim,” Morgan said.

“Chelsea was unhappy.” Anger fueled Derek’s words. “Tim doesn’t know how to keep a woman. I do. Women need to be dominated. They can’t make decisions. They don’t know what they want.”

“Is that why your girlfriend broke up with you?” Morgan asked.

“She’s a stupid bitch,” Derek snapped. “I tried being nice to her, but that didn’t make her happy. Women don’t want a nice man. They want a man who takes control. They want decisions made for them.”

Morgan’s head tilted. “You tried that with your girlfriend.”

“If I could have kept her for a few weeks, I could have turned her attitude around. But the bitch ran off to London.” Bitterness clipped Derek’s words.

“She ran away from you,” Morgan clarified.

“Women can’t commit to anything. They let their emotions control them instead of logic. Look what happened to Elliot. He loved Candace. He tried to get her help, and what did she do? She threatened to leave him rather than do what was best for her.”

The truth fell on Lance like a cartoon anvil.

Derek had killed his brother’s wife.

Morgan clearly made the connection as well. Her posture stiffened. “Candace didn’t know what was good for her.”

“Just another example of women needing caretakers.” Derek turned his head to stare at Morgan over his shoulder. “Candace was killing herself with her addiction. Elliot loved her enough to try and stop it. But beating her addiction would have been hard, and she wasn’t willing to do the work. Elliot should have put his foot down, but he didn’t. He was weak.”

“What did you do?” Morgan asked.

Derek’s lips peeled off his teeth. “I tried to make her, but Elliot had let her get away with her bad behavior for too long. It was ingrained. If I could have isolated her for a month or so, I could have turned her around.”

Silence pulsed in the night for a few seconds.

Derek shook his head. “Her addiction was out of control. I went there to save her. To save Elliot. He was unhappy.” He took a breath, anger narrowing his eyes. “But she wouldn’t let me fix her. I tried. I tried my hardest.”

“You killed her,” Lance finished.

“She fell and hit her head.” Derek spat out the words. “It was an accident.”

Lance pressed him harder. “Then why did you cover it up?”

Derek’s lips pressed into a colorless line.

“Was she dead when you sent her car over that embankment?” Lance asked.

Derek didn’t respond, but his flat gaze lifted goose bumps on Lance’s arms.

It hadn’t mattered to Derek. In his mind, she was worthless. Her life simply didn’t matter. Lance didn’t believe for one second that her death was an accident. Derek could have called for an ambulance. Instead, he chose to cover up her death.

“You failed with Chelsea,” Lance prodded.

“I can fix her.” Derek’s voice rose. “She’s sweeter. More pure of heart and soul. Not jaded and ruined by drugs.”

“She has children,” Morgan said.

“She can have more children. My children.” Derek’s face reddened. “I can make her love me. It just takes time.”

“You tortured her.” Lance wanted to find that brand and hear it sizzle in Derek’s skin. The man deserved to feel the pain he’d inflicted on Chelsea.

“I taught her,” Derek interrupted. “There’s a difference. A blend of positive and negative reinforcement to show her that being submissive to a man would make her happy.”