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Gordon’s youngest daughter looked up. Studied him for a moment.
Sol almost blinked. He hadn’t ever looked that close at that kid before. But she wasn’t a kid now, at all. A damned beautiful girl. Ethereal. Graceful. Like a princess almost. But the eyes—those eyes could drill right through a man’s soul. No doubt about that. There was something almost haunting about that one.
Just like Heather Coleson.
Heather. Who was right there.
Talking to Miguel Rodriguez like they were the best damned friends in the world. Both were holding their baby girls, and chatting away.
Looked good together, too. Hell, maybe that was the way Rodriguez’s wind was blowing. Woman like Heather—some guy in the post was going to swoop in and want her for himself soon. Convince her to let him sign up to play daddy and everything.
It was just a matter of time. Sol had seen it before.
He saw little Madison McAlister there by the picnic tables, glaring up at Dom Acardi. Acardi’s father was right there—with Madison’s pretty mother. There were others he recognized in the crowd. People from the TSP, mostly, of course.
And their families.
No one was there with him.
All of these people, walking around with their families, and everything—and he had no one. He had no one.
It was sinking in.
Without his baby girl, Sol Kimball had no one who mattered any longer.
Before he could stop himself, he pulled that photo of Maribeth and that skater girl from his pocket. He’d stuck it in there and just needed to carry it with him. See his baby’s smiling face during one of the happiest moments of her life, whenever he needed reminded of the good things.
Maribeth Kimball had been one of the best things he had ever known.
He looked at that photo in the bright light of day.
For the first time, his attention wasn’t caught by his daughter’s face. But the other girl’s.
Sol blinked. Then looked closer.
He’d seen that girl before.
Recently.
Really recently. He was sure of it.
He just couldn’t remember where.
35
Haldyn knew how to read evidence. One hundred percent. And the look in those brown eyes told her all she needed to know. Powell Melissa Barratt was hiding something. There was no doubt about that.
But getting Powell to spill the beans—that was going to be the hard part.
"We need to talk." Haldyn blocked her friend's path. "I know you are hiding something from me. What is it?"
Powell's hand dropped to her stomach. Immediately. Haldyn studied her face, fast. "Is the ulcer back? Tell me."
Powell had suffered from a nasty ulcer after a life-threatening allergic reaction to antibiotics six years ago. She'd fought complications off and on ever since. "Are you sick, Powell? Tell me the truth."
"No. Just...I feel a bit nauseated actually. I'm not sure why, but it's not an ulcer. Probably stress. Or an allergic reaction to Erickson, most likely. Or...parts of him anyway." Powell held one hand up to her eyes, shielded against the sun. Haldyn knew—she was looking for the man in question. "There he is. With those women over there. Imagine that, women surrounding Gunnar. Let's get out of here while we can. I just need a break from that man."
"Those are the Colesons. Zoey’s biological family. Zo’s aunt Heather is Jarrod’s partner. What's happened between you and Gunnar?"
