Chapter 110

110

Heather walked up to 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 were damned 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, where someone was.

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

This was 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. After they 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 was ready 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.

She heard voices nearby. She dropped down. And crept around the peninsula. Toward the window that looked out at the park.

Miguel and Gunnar were out there, ready to enter at any moment. But the only way she had to signal them if there was a problem was through Hope.

That meant there was going to be a split-second delay, no matter what she tried to do to negate it.

Her task: distract the men inside.

Until Gunnar and Miguel could find ways to neutralize all of them.

Hope had given Miguel her own headset. He was tapped in.But it was up to Hope to coordinate all the information now.

Heather peered around the end of the peninsula.

Powell was there, furthest from Heather. She had Trey focused entirely on her. Melissa was on the left sofa, clear across the large room.

There were two men in the room with Powell and Melissa. She recognized them immediately. Now. In the light, there was no mistaking the man who had once been her brother-in-law. Who technically still was.

Which meant, his asshole son was still her stepnephew. Yuck.

Well, Heather had other nephews she wasn't so fond of.

Luc had once topped that list.

Trey had just displaced that irritating billionaire nephew completely. She could deal. But for now, she had to find a way to do what she had to do.

" I'm going to be sick! " Powell suddenly almost shouted. She took off. Toward the powder room down the opposite hall. Clear across the room from her mother.

Trey cursed and followed her. Heather held her breath, sure he was going to shoot Powell and be done with it. He wasn't going to want a hostage being ill everywhere. Trey was even more squeamish than Heather.

To her surprise, he followed Powell.

And so did his father. Down thehall. Way down the hall. Opposite of the kitchen. Where the powder room most likely was.

They weren't focused on Melissa at all.

Slight change of plans.

That was all the opportunity Heather needed.

Heather hopped to her feet almost silently and crept to the back of the couch, where Melissa sat as fast as she could.

Heather wrapped her hand around the older woman's mouth and shifted. So that Powell's mother could see her.

She'd never forget how that woman's eyes widened in that moment when her eyes met Heather's. With hope.

Heather shook her head to keep Melissa silent. She pulled Melissa to her feet. And led her to the door Heather had entered.

And out into the night. "Go. Hurry. Start toward my house. Go to my house, Number Nine Jude Way, and stay there."

They were eight blocks away. Melissa would be safe there. Eden would make sure of it. And Norm should be getting home at any moment. Her brother-in-law would do what had to be done to protect all inside.

"My daughter...Mason...they..."

" Go. I can get them out faster without you in the way. Go. Mac and Alex are waiting back at my place. Go."

Heather watched Powell's mother take off toward Jude Way. She touched the button on her headset. "Melissa Barratt is out. I have told her to go your way, back to her sons. I'm going back in."

"Watch yourself, Heath. We have your back. We're in the Barratts' cameras now, but they aren't great," Hope said. "Two men in the hall, lower level, others are second floor; one is searching for jewelry in the master bedroom, another is going through what looks like a library."

Four. There were four. Against Heather, Gunnar, and Miguel—Miguel, who was worth two cops, hands down. "Gotcha."

" Remember, big sister: none of you are doing this alone."

Heather followed the same path she had taken before. Right into the Barratts' kitchen, around the peninsula. And to the couch where she'd found Powell's mother.

She took Melissa's seat.

And waited.

Until Trey was there. Dragging Powell by one arm. His father behind him, lecturing all the way.

All three stopped.

Looked at her. In shock.

Heather smiled. Deliberately.

"Well, hello there, boys. Looks like I am just in time for a family reunion." Heather pulled Norm's .45 into position. The irony of pointing one brother-in-law's gun at another brother-in-law wasn't lost on her. "Sit down, Timothy. It's time we all had a little talk. Caught up on old times. Family gossip and all that. So tell me, Tim: What have you and my nephew been up to these last twenty years? Because I really want to know."