Page 161 of Ice Princess

Suddenly, Chance’s phone rings loudly.

I jump.

April shrieks.

Chance gives us an apologetic look and goes to answer the call in the other room. When he returns, he looks somber.

“What?” April scrambles to her feet.

“The lawyers found bank transactions between Clarence and Stewart.Bigtransactions. Stewart’s been selling off alotof Kinsey land lately.”

April’s brows knit in the center of her forehead. “Do they know why?”

Chance pulls out his fidget spinner and gives it a flick. “No, but maybe Gunner does.”

“What do you mean?”

“Now that I think about it, he seemed a little frantic during our last meeting with the lawyers.”

Those words drop in the center of the room and stare at us like a hissing mountain lion. Gunner is many things but ‘frantic’ isn’t one of them.

“Land and money,” April shudders. “People do a lot of terrible things for them.”

Chance braces himself. “Why do I feel like we’re stepping into a minefield here?”

I rub my necklace. “Because whatever Gunner knows about Stewart and Clarence has him going against his entire family. And his family just so happens to bethemost powerful one in Lucky Falls.”

“I think you should call Gunner,” April squeaks.

“Yeah.” I pick up my phone that suddenly feels as heavy as a rock. “That’s probably a good idea.”

CHAPTER

FORTY-SEVEN

GUNNER

My phone ringsfrom my back pocket, but I ignore it and stare at the man in mom’s living room.

Uncle Clarence, or ‘Uncle Clancy’ to most of us, still uses a cane and the way ittap-tap-tapson the polished wooden floors makes me clench my fists and brace myself for a fight.

His hair is just as grey as it was that day outside the church. His eyes are just as sharp and piercing, bracketed by the very same wrinkles that deepen when he flashes a deceptively serene smile.

It shocks me that he hasn’t aged a day. He might as well have walked right out of my worst memories.

“Gunner. Let me give you a hug.” Uncle Clancy wraps his arms around me like a snake engulfing its prey in a lethal hug.

I stiffen in his arms, holding myself still.

He leans back, glancing over at my mother who’s beaming at us as if Uncle Clancy hangs the moon.

“How many years has it been, Clancy?” Mom asks.

“Long enough that I almost didn’t recognize Gunner. Your son got so big, Carol!” Uncle Clancy wags a wrinkled finger inmy face. “Looking at him, you wouldn’t believe he was ever small enough for me to pick up and carry around.”

My mother laughs.

Uncle Clancy joins her.

---