Page 88 of The Secrets She Keeps

“I have had better days, Erickson. Far better days. Not very gremlin-y at all.” She looked up at the man pushing her chair. “Thanks for the ride, Miggy. You came in surprisingly handy yet again.”

“I was coming here anyway. To talk to Daniel and Gun. First sign you are getting tired, brat, and I’m taking you home, though.”

“I’m good. I want to be here with my sister.” She looked back at Powell. “You said he spit on my sister?”

“Yes.”

She looked at Gunnar. “Did they keep Heather’s clothes in the emergency department?”

“I’m sure they did.” Gunnar hadn’t been down there when Heather had come in. He’d just heard what had happened from Daniel later. “They would have been kept as evidence.”

“Who processed my sister?” Hope stood and moved to Heather’s bed. He watched as she covered her sister’s hand. “She…looks horrible. Oh, Heath…”

Heather’s face was battered. There were stitches on the left side of her lip. One arm was in a removable cast and a sling. Her shoulder had been dislocated. Her fingers on both hands were badly bruised. Some of her ribs were cracked. She had a concussion. There were…other…bruises everyone spoke about only in hushed tones. “She does. But we have her back safe now.”

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Hope just noddedas Daniel came in. She shot him an angry glare. Hope had had a lot to say to Daniel too. And that little gremlin wasfiercewhen she had something to say. She hadn’t held back. Not even for a moment.

Miguel had bodily lifted her away from Daniel when he’d decided she’d gotten too upset. And practically growled until Daniel had sat down and shut up.

Daniel kept to the area on Powell’s side of the room, nearest the door. The Colesons weren’t going to ever forgive Daniel, he suspected.

“If he spit on her, his DNA will be on her clothes,” Hope said. “Mads or Ashlie can find his DNA then. We can track him, even just by going through his relatives. Genealogical DNA.”

“I’ll make sure Madison works on it personally,” Daniel said. Hope just glared at him. She even snarled. Daniel held up his hands. “I’m staying over here, Hope. I promise. I won’t get near Heather again. Powell, are you ready to talk? Tell us what happened?”

Powell pulled in a shuddering breath. “I…I think so. I want you to catch them. And I’m not stupid—Heather had multiplechances to get away if it hadn’t been for her protecting me. Every time one of them got too close to me, Heather woulddosomething to get them to look at her, to focus on her instead.”

Gunnar was going to find those men and destroy them. Shred them, one by one, inch by inch. And he owed Heather everything now. Forever.

“Tell us everything about the older man,” Daniel said, taking the rolling stool nearby. “What did he look like?”

“He was older and around six two or three. Thinner. Scarecrow thin. I think his hair was darker and maybe curly, but the light was so low. It made him happy—and a little surprised—to see her, I think. He said, ‘I can’t believe this!’ He grabbed her chin and looked at her. Said she’d grown into herself beautifully, definitely. He said he always knewshewould. He just hit her and said she wasn’t so proud now. The other one, the one I ran into in Wyoming that day—he kicked her in the chest when she was down. Helpless. So hard. The older one kept saying he had to be going. His daughters were waiting. I got the impression they were children, but he was so much older.”

“So Heather was the target?” Miguel asked. He’d pulled the third recliner from the corner. Miguel scooped Heather’s little sister up and sat her in that chair. He grabbed a blanket from the cabinet and fussed. Hope just looked at him, a puzzled expression in her big brown eyes.

Gunnar understood why.

Miguel wasn’t exactly the kind of man whofussed.

Terrified people when he looked at them was a bit more accurate.

“But that doesn’t make a damned bit of sense. Two decades? Hell, she’d have only been thirteen or fourteen then,” Daniel said. “And from the video on Heather’s phone, we thought you just walked right into them.”

“We did. The older man and the Wyoming man showed up a few hours later. We were walking and talking about some questions I had. Questions about Heather’s family, some things Cara had said. We were going to go check on my new house, and we could see Heather’s house from where we were. Could see Alex’s too. And we had my guard behind me, plus Heather had her gun right there visible. We thought it was safe, and it was only supposed to be for a few minutes. But they were in the basement. Came out as we unlocked the door and headed into the kitchen. We didn’t even know they were there until they were shooting the guard.”

Gunnar looked at Heather and then Hope. When Heather had been thirteen or fourteen, Hope would have been a preschooler. But until Heather woke, Hope was their best lead.

“We should wake Joy. She would have been the same exact age, you know. Those two shared practically every moment back then.”

Miguel reached over and shook the small blonde’s arm. It took a moment, but she eventually woke up enough to see Hope there in front of her.

“Hazel Hope Coleson, what on earth are you doing here at one a.m.?” Joy asked.

“Miguel brought me and Mom back when we asked him to. I needed to see her for myself, Joy. I just did. Mom did too. Grabbed a taxi chair in the lobby so I wouldn’t get tired out because Miggy insisted. He’s kind of bossy, you know. Otherwise, he threatened to carry me around like a toddler. I mean, I know I look like a kid, but a toddler? That is a bit too much.”

“You don’t look like a kid—except when you want to. I simply said I would deal with you the way I deal with a toddler when they need it. You are as stubborn as my toddler when you want something.”

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