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Okay, she hadn’t expected this.
She knew who he was.
Everyone in Finley Creek, in the Texas State Police in general, knew him. They'd been looking for him for years, after all. But she didn't let on that she recognized him.
She definitely remembered him. He’d been at her college graduation, for heaven’s sake. He’d congratulated her and then hugged Powell close, told Haldyn’s best friend in the world how proud he was of her. Of Powell and Haldyn both. And Brandt. Brandt, Powell’s twin brother—he’d hugged Brandt, too. Told him he loved him and was proud of him.
He’d given Haldyn a thousand-dollar check. It had formed the bulk of her savings account for years. Not to mention the scholarship she suspected his company had funded that she’d suddenly received two months after she’d confessed to his only niece that she was having trouble making tuition when she was twenty.
She’d always suspected this man right here had been behind it.
“Good. I see you are awake. I hope Beck didn't scare you too much. He wasn’t supposed to come in here, but he’s a very curious little monster. He likes to stand right next to you and just stare at you until you wake up. Right next to your face. It's rather creepy to wake that way. His older brother used to do that, too. The first time Beck did it, I had to wonder if Houghton ever does that to his Melody. It is seriously weird. You'll have to ask her sometime.”
“Powell does that. She freaked me out when we were in college and she’d do that.”
He laughed. “Yes, I remember she did that, too. I miss that girl.”
Powell. Houghton. Melody. That just confirmed it.
This really was Handley Barratt looking at her now.
The missing billionaire wanted on charges in conjunction with kidnapping and murder and a whole other host of things she couldn't remember off the top of her head.
Handley Barratt, Powell’s father’s oldest brother.
She somehow doubted he was behind those men in the blue van. He never would have done anything to hurt his niece. She’d bet her life on that. Some of her fear lessened. "I'll do that. Why am I here, Mr. Barratt? Where is here exactly?”
“Please, Haldyn, it’s Handley. I’ve known you for over a decade, after all. What do you remember? How do you feel? You’ve been out for several hours; I wasn’t certain how long the drug those…bas…bad guys…gave you would last.”
He changed his word from the curse—because there was a little boy peeking around him now. Clutching Handley’s knee. A little boy with big brown eyes and an adorable grin. A grin Haldyn had seen countless times before. He was bouncing from little foot to foot, like he was excited about something.
Haldyn’s heart lurched when it hit her. Those were Powell’s brown eyes and most mischievous grin. Powell did that excited bouncing thing, too. He was a mini-boy-Powell right there in front of her. Powell’s baby cousin stared at her now.
"I remember." Her hand rose to her neck. The skin was rough there. Where the patch had been. Haldyn's head hurt. No doubt about that. She remembered men attacking. And Powell screaming. “Is Powell okay? Where is she? Is she okay, where is she?”
"It’s okay, Haldyn. You are safe here with me. You have my word. Powell is fine, sweetheart. She was scooped up rather quickly by a tall blond detective and gotten out of the way. That detective is Elliot Marshall's close friend, I believe, though his name escapes me at the moment.”
Of course. She would never forget the sound of that man calling her name. Or seeing him fighting his way to her and Powell. “That was Gunnar Erickson. We crossed the street so he couldn’t flirt with Powell. I think something happened between them at Christmas when she was in Wyoming visiting Brandt, but she won’t tell me what yet. She just turns bright red and turns the subject.”
“Really now? Interesting. I didn't push my luck with being recognized. Powell was safe. You were not. Under those circumstances, my men and I chose to follow you instead. And the men who tried to take my niece. There is a reason they went for her. I'm going to find it. And make them pay for hurting her, for hurting you. When I can. Then...I have a quest of my own to complete. I am sorry, Haldyn. I know you must be terrified. But you will be home soon. I promise.” He sat in a rocking chair next to the bed. There was a stack of children’s books next to it.
"And me? Where do I fit in with this?" No sense beating around the bush. He had her here—for a reason. Haldyn was just trying to figure out what it was.
“You, my dear Haldyn, are the answer I have been looking for.”
5
Madison peered over Hope's shoulder as the younger woman rewound the small bit of security footage that had been found on the bank across the street from where Haldyn had been abducted. The footage wasn't great, but if anyone could get height and weight descriptions using their software, it would be Dr. Hazel Hope Coleson. Hope was incredibly good at using software in ways Madison just wasn't. Madison wasn't lost to the irony of that—Hope's nephew whom Hope had only met a couple of times, head of Lucas Tech, had created the software they used now. Hope made it do things she suspected Davis Lucas had never intended.
"Anything?"
"I see four men, even though only two or three are visible at a time," Hope said. She pointed to the screen. "There are different gaits, for sure. I'll get height and weight in a minute. But there are at least four that I can isolate. Which makes sense—there was also a driver. I doubt he got out of the van, though."
Four men and a driver. Just like the night of the choir hall shooting when some monster had shot her in the back. And nearly killed three of her best friends. Madison resisted the urge to rub one hand across the scar on her back. It always pulled when she thought about that night. She knew it was psychosomatic. But it felt real to her. "There were also four men who...Eastman."
Eastman. That monster who had targeted Hope’s family for decades.
Hope's eyes met hers. "I know."
