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Heather heard a small whisper in her ear. That still, small voice telling people what to do thing—it was her sister Hope now. “ Gunnar is coming in through the basement. Mig is on his way upstairs. Mig’s got his sights set on the guy upstairs. Other guy is in the first-floor hallway, coming out of Mason’s office. ”

“Okay,” Heather said and paused. She wanted her sister to know she got the message. “Timothy and Timmy Three, we need to decide what we are doing now. We can’t let this go on much longer. Powell looks a bit sick here, and her father needs medical attention. And…I’m really good with this gun. It’s Norm’s; did you know that? You remember Norm, right, Timothy? You met him at Angela’s funeral. After you sexually assaulted Marcia. He married Marcia eventually. They have four kids together.”

“I didn’t assault Marcia. I never would. My hand tangled in her dress, and it ripped. That was all.”

“Not at all how I remember it. Or Marcia.” Heather smirked at him. Timothy had always hated it when she would shoot him that expression. So whenever he’d make her mad as a kid she’d do that. On purpose. Maybe she had been a bit of a brat back then, but hell—helping raise a gaggle of Coleson girls had matured that right out of her. “I could shoot Timmy Three, possibly. That is probably the most expedient use of my time. And it would feel damned good to do it too. I need to be getting home. I promised my great-nephew Iagan I’d read him a chapter or two from the fifth Harry Potter book tonight. Do you know who Iagan is, Timothy?”

“No. I don’t.”

“He’s your grandson. Iagan Andrew Coleson. He’s ten.”

She saw the surprise in his eyes then. “I didn’t know.”

“Eden adopted him eight years ago, actually. He is such a sweet little boy. He was one of Denita’s. Eastman…created…him. See, Iagan was left on Eden’s dining room table one day as a baby. She quit med school to raise him. Did you know Dr. Eastman?”

“Yes, Daddy, tell her all about good old Gregory, and what great friends you were.” Trey didn’t like it when she looked away from him. Heather had figured him out fast.

He hadn’t changed that much at all. Just gotten taller. Stronger.

Filled with more evil.

“Eastman…was just an associate of your father’s, Heather. Did some time at the hospital when you were an infant, I believe. He wasn’t well liked. Your father and he were assigned to a committee together before Angela and I even met. Andrew didn’t like him.”

“Did you know what Eastman and Denita were doing?” This was not a direction she’d expected the conversation to take. But she was going to ask questions she’d had for a while.

“Not at first. Definitely not when you girls were younger. He did approach me over a decade ago for a favor. But…was I fully a part of what he was doing, absolutely not. I did not know he was doing anything illegal at all.”

Trey cackled. For lack of a better word. “He really didn’t. But he benefited. Don’t let Dad pull one over on you, Auntie Heather.”

“I won’t, nephew Timmy Three.”

“ Gunnar is in. ” Hope’s voice was so faint Heather doubted Trey heard. Not where he was clear across the room. Houses in Hughes Heights had really large rooms.

“What was that? It sounded like something breaking,” Trey demanded. Just as they heard a loud thump upstairs.

“I suspect it’s your boy toy upstairs breaking something. I don’t think your pals are exactly housebroken or anything.”

She strongly suspected Miguel had found his way inside. He confirmed that fact through the headset not even a few seconds later. "Single suspect neutralized. Powell's bedroom. Coming downstairs now."

Things were about to get interesting.

And Powell was too damned close to Trey Grundenman for comfort.