Page 133 of The Secrets She Keeps

Just as her mother screamed.

Powell spun around. There werementhere. Men she’d seen before. She screamed.

Gunnar’s name.

Her father lunged at the closest man. “Run, Powell! Run! Go!”

She tried. It wasthem.The men from before. And they had her mother between them.

One man lashed out. Cracked his gun across the back of her father’s head.

Her father fell at her feet and didn’t move again. “Daddy!”

One man stepped around him. “Hi, honey, I’m home. Did you miss me?”

It washim. The man in charge. She’d seen his picture. On Gunnar’s phone. A driver’s license photo. The man from Wyoming.

Timothy Grundenman the Third stared back at her now. Powell just stared at him in return, her hands on her father’s shoulders. There was blood on her dad’s head now.

“What…what do you want?”

“Baby, I wantyou,of course. It’s what I have wanted from the very beginning. You are the perfect woman, Powell. I have wanted you for a long, long time. Well, I’ve wanted what kind oflifeyou’ve had all along anyway.” He stepped closer. She tried to pull back. His friends blocked her escape. Her mom was crying, leaning over Powell’s father. Begging him to get up. One of the men yanked her mother to her feet. “Everything Ihave been working for, for years, has been to get where you and your damned family already are. But Erickson kept ruining everything. Him and Fucking Heather. Now…I got you. Right where I want you. Well, almost where I want you.”

Powell wasn’t stupid—she knew what he meant. Would never forget what he had said, threatened before.

“What are you going to do?”

“The question isn’t whatIam going to do. It’s what you are going to do. See, I want a family reunion before you and I have our fun. And you’re going to help me make it happen. I’m going to go away for a while. A vacation of sorts. But there is some unfinished business with anauntof mine I need to take care of first. Families can be so complicated. Loose ends, and everything. Revenge. That kind of thing. Since she destroyed everything. I’m sure you understand.”

He had her by the shirt, lifting her almost off her feet. “You are small, aren’t you? Let’s go make a little phone call to that pal of yours, shall we?”

“If I refuse?”

He pointed the gun in his hand. At her father. Her mother. “I don’t think you will. I’d hate to see Mommy and Daddy go the way that bastard Erickson just did.”

94

Heather had been starved.Summer had made oven-“fried” chicken. Heather had actually eaten a full plate this time. Her appetite was finally coming back. Probably because she’d been weaned off the pain pills over the last few days. She was actually able to nurse the baby again.

No more constantly pumping and dumping. This dairy farm mama was back in business.

She would be eternally grateful for the donated breast milk Bonnie and Joy’s friends at the hospital had provided for Ember.

Her phone rang. Powell’s ringtone. She’d been calling Heather every day since they’d left the hospital. Heather suspected the younger woman was needing reassurance again. Trauma—and pregnancy—had shaken Powell’s world completely. And it would continue. It probably never would go away completely. Heather understood that on so many levels. But she was going to do what she had to do to help Powell get to the other side. To find herhappyagain.

Sisters by choice now.

Neverleave a sister behind.

Heather hit the button on her phone. "Hey, Powell. How are you doing?"

"Good. I...am sorry to bother you for the third time today. I know you like to go to bed early.”

"It's no bother. I'm sitting here, getting the baby to sleep. What's up?" Powell's voice sounded odd. It sent Heather's instincts flaring. She waved a hand. The rest of the room got quiet.

"That case I was discussing with you yesterday...when I drove Cashlyn home from work…that consult we discussed…I have some questions. Do you have some time to talk?”

Heather froze. Powell’s voice was tight. Frightened. Heather wasn’t stupid. "Yes, of course. I'm happy to consult while I'm off. You know that."