Page 139 of The Woman Left Behind

Feeling heat, Rus pointed out the obvious.

Yep, Harry confirmed.

I’ll go get some plywood. You take care of Lillian. I’ll contact Wade or Karen and process the scene, then board up the windows.

Wade’s here. Lillian has a spa appointment this afternoon. I’ll be back to help. There won’t be anything, he wore gloves and a ski mask, but we’ll process anyway.

Figures. But gotcha. Later.

Harry shoved the phone in his back pocket. He sent his father a reassuring smile when he caught his concerned look, though he knew his father wasn’t reassured.

“I’m not thinking good thoughts,” Wade said.

“Nope,” Harry agreed.

“This isn’t about a file audit and shitty police work,” Wade noted.

“Nope,” Harry again agreed.

“I’ll go get my camera,” Wade sighed.

“Appreciated,” Harry said.

That was when Harry stood, staring at his house, making the decision that if he and Lillian went the distance—which they would—they’d move in here for as long as it took to blow out the back of her place and add on enough rooms for two to three kids, and whatever extra space she wanted.

They’d then sell this place to pay it off, and if there was extra, start college and wedding funds.

He also stared at it knowing this was only the beginning.

A man who didn’t know right from wrong was running scared.

Harry wasn’t that kind of man, but he dealt with them nearly every day.

There were three doors available to him.

Obviously, Abernathy wasn’t going to pick door one, come clean.

Equally obviously, he wasn’t going to pick door two, which was get out of town and as far away as possible.

He’d picked door number three, because he was far more familiar with what lay beyond it.

Threats and intimidation, going at both hard, then harder, until he got what he wanted.

Harry wouldn’t normally give two fucks about this.

But he did now.

Because he had Lillian.

He had something to lose.

And so did she.

THIRTY-FOUR

One of The Many

Harry

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