Page 149 of The Secrets She Keeps

The sounds of something electronic crackled. The teenager touched Hope on the shoulder. "Megan has climbed Alex’s roof. She has Norm’s long-range binoculars and can see all the way to the other side of the park now. She’s patched in via my phone. She said there are people outside. Multiple men, possibly four. But she can’t see for sure; she’s not up high enough yet, and they are wearing dark clothes. The binoculars only have about a mile range, and they are at the outer edge of that. She can only see the men when they are directly in the light from the park or the streetlights, as well. The men are mostly at the house next door, though. To the left of Powell’s parents’ house. Two away from the park, but she can’t see the house number.”

“It’s vacant,” Alex said quietly. “Number Eight Hendricks. Powell owns it too. Identical floor plan to my place. She bought it a month ago but hasn’t had time to go more in depth on getting it ready to flip. My parents watch it for her.”

"Heather—we have Megan watching from Alex’s roof,” Hope said into the headset. “You have movement at Number EightHendricks. Vacant house—Powell owns it too. Multiple suspects, but can’t get an accurate count. Too damned dark to see everything.”

There was no response. The computers were silent. And they just waited.

“What's happening?” Brianna's eyes met Mac's. She saw horror and fear there. Helplessness. She’d never imagined Mac beinghelplessbefore. Not him. Brianna looked at Eden. Eden was definitely the one in charge."Just what is going on tonight?"

110

Heather walked upto the rear door of the Barratts' home and wrapped her fingers around the handle. What she was doing was probably insane, but...

Trey had wanted Heather there for a reason.

Well, it was time to find out what that was.She was trusting Gunnar and Miguel to have her back here. Trusting the TSP—totally insane. But if she was going to trust anyone she worked with, it would be Miguel. And Gunnar.

Period.

She tried not to let fear for Gunnar, and even that asshole McKellen, distract her. She had a role to play now.

The door handle turned. The idiots hadn't even locked the back door.They were cocky, arrogant. It was how she’d triumphed over them before. They’d been stupid, and impulsive, and idiots. These leopards didn’t change their spots. Not that quickly anyway.

Unless leaving the door unlocked was something they had done deliberately. But Heather almost wouldn't give Trey and his goons that kind of credit. They were stupid—but they weredamned good at using it to their advantage. They’d made it this far without being caught. She wouldn’t forget that.

She had fifteen rounds in the gun she’d borrowed from Norm’s safe. She would have to make them count.

She slid the door open as quietly as she could.

The Barratts' home was more open than her own. Larger, but more open. Less nook-and-cranny rooms. Definitely less clutter, considering just how many Colesons lived with Heather now. There was a light on in the front room of the house. She'd seen it from the street.

That was where they were.

At least, wheresomeonewas.

Heather crept down the hall.There were framed photos of Powell and her brothers everywhere.

Thiswas where the Barratt siblings had grown up. It felt like a home, and it pissed Heather off that Trey and his stooges had thought nothing of violating that.Of destroying the safety of that family.

And for what?

Drugs? Money? Some sick game Trey was playing?

No. Heather was tired of it.

They were going to get their answers tonight.Afterthey got Powell and her parents out of there. And got that woman back to Gunnar where she belonged.

She was starting to suspect Powell might just need a keeper. She seemed to draw trouble. Hell, Powell Barratt was almost as bad as a Coleson girl, the kind of trouble she kept getting into.

Powell fit right in with the rest of them.

Well, Gunnar was up for the job of keeping Powell Barratt.

Heather came around the corner quietly.

She ended up at the edge of the kitchen. There was a large two-level peninsula there, the kind that was popular in the 1990s, with an inset stovetop. Dinner was still cooking. It wasready to scorch now. Meaning whatever had been happening here had been going on for at least long enough for that to happen.

Heather reached out quietly and turned off the burners.

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