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She reached the entrance and turned the knob, and the door swung open. She hustled inside. Matthew’s Navigator and her Ford Escape were still parked in their garage bays. Both cars sitting in the spots seemed as normal as talking with Cynthia had been, like it was just another day.
No sorrow.
No prison.
Just living an ordinary life, paying bills, and loving her man.
Her man.
That had always meant Matthew, but strangely enough, with everything she’d been through, when she had that thought, the face that had come to mind was Brett’s.
Brave Brett. Where was he? Was he safe? Would he be upset that she’d called Vanessa and was meeting her here? All these questions and not one single answer.
Knowing the house was probably locked, she checked in Matthew’s tool kit where he’d hidden a key in a small metal container. Taking it out, she unlocked the door and went inside.
The house smelled musty. She cautiously walked through the mud room and into the kitchen. It looked the same as it had on that horrid morning, except a bit dusty. She made her way to the master suite.
The bed was still made. She opened the walk-in closet. Her clothes hung on one side, Matthew’s on the other. She took one of his shirts off the hanger and smelled it. The faint hint of Stetson cologne lingered on the material. A flurry of emotions rose within her. Glimpses of Matthew, of him laughing and holding her tight in his arms, played in her mind like a movie reel. She wanted to wallow in her memories, but she didn’t have time for this. She had to check out the other rooms before Vanessa arrived. She hung the shirt back where Matthew had put it and made her way through the dining area and into the great room.
She glanced toward Matthew’s office at the front of the house. She didn’t want to go in there. That was where her happy life had been shattered to bits.
Steeling herself for what waited in there, she cautiously walked toward it. The door hung open, just like it had that morning. Inching her way to peer inside, she was relieved to see no one there.
Staying away from the window, she went in. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the stain on the carpet, where Matthew had lain. She could hardly draw a breath as she stared at the spot.
Her gaze slowly trailed to the gun cabinet. All their weapons were gone. Either the police had confiscated them, or Walter had taken them. That they weren’t here was probably a good thing.
She glanced at the floating shelf on the wall that concealed her .22 revolver and Matthew’s Glock and wondered if those guns had been taken as well. She hoped hers was there. About to check, she had the strangest feeling that she was being watched, that she was no longer alone.
She spun around and found the huge man who had been there three years ago. Again, he wore a ski mask, but this time he aimed a SIG Sauer M18 straight at her.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Brett wished he’d called BBto find out what was going on before ditching his phone. He aimlessly drove, not knowing where to go or where he could find Dania.
He tried to think of places she might hide. She would know she couldn’t go to Gran’s. Couldn’t go to the next-door neighbor’s either. Couldn’t even go to Hayley’s.
All of her options were bad and worse.
Brave, strong, and beautiful Dania. Somehow, she must have gotten away from Hayley’s before Gabe had arrived. That meant Dania had to know the police and the criminals were closing in. For her last few hours of freedom, she’d go somewhere important.
Her son? He was the most important person in her life now.
But Brett dismissed that notion. She wouldn’t want the only memory little Jacob had of her to be of the police taking her away. Even though that was probably where she really wanted to go, she wouldn’t.
Where else?
And then he knew.
She’d go to her house. The place had stood empty since Matt’s death. Brett swung his Pathfinder around and headed out of town.
* * *
Dania lunged to the floor behind the desk.
The gun went off at the same time a muzzle flash lit the room. The stinky smell of rotten eggs clung in the gun smoke.
Heart pounding and shaking like an aspen leaf in a fierce wind, she crawled on hands and knees. She had to get to the shelf that hid their weapons and hope they were still there.
