Page 125 of The Sister's Curse

And the Kings of Warsaw Creek were not going to survive this.

I dug around in the back of my closet for the shotgun I’d had for decades. I filled my pockets with shells and put the shotgun in a zippered blue case that once held a folding hammock stand. I looked like I was out to stake out a spot to watch the fireworks from the comfort of a hammock. I stuffed a flashlight, some bottled water, and a collapsible dog dish in the bag.

Monica arrived, and stood in the doorway of my house. “Jesus, Anna, I’m so sorry.”

I incandesced with rage. Monica came to me and wrapped her arms around me. Gibby leaned against my leg. I felt their heartbeats close to mine, the same anger, the rage.

“I’m telling you that I’m going to find Nick and I’m going to kill those men,” I whispered. I wanted to give her the choice to leave and disavow any knowledge of what I was going to do.

“I’m coming with you,” Monica said. “We are going to find him.”

I nodded.

We left the house, and I pulled the door closed behind me. It was useless, I knew. When I came back—if I came back—I wouldn’t be surprised to find a raccoon in my bed and a deer standing in my living room, looking up at the buck head mounted on a plaque above my fireplace.

The wild could take it back. I didn’t care.

We all needed to go get what was ours.

—

Monica and I rolled up on the Sumner house like a cloud shadow over the land.

There was a car in the driveway, Drema’s blue SUV. I parked beside it, and Monica pulled in behind me. I was riding high on adrenaline, and I rocked up to the front door while Monica circled around to the back.

I rapped hard. “Police. Open up.”

The door opened immediately, and Drema Sumner blinked at me.

“Is Jeff here?”

She shook her head. “No. He left about an hour ago.”

She stepped aside and I went in, with my shotgun at my side.

“I thought you were steering clear of Jeff,” I said.

“Mason’s going to be released this afternoon. I’m packing up all our things.” She gestured to suitcases on the floor.

“When did you get here?”

“Three. I was hoping Jeff would be gone, but…” She stared at the mess in the living room and wrinkled her nose.

Monica returned to the front door. “Nobody fled out the back,” she confirmed.

“Did Jeff say anything when he left?”

“Not really. I went to Mason’s playroom and started packing up his stuff.”

“Was Jeff alone?”

“He was, until a cop came for him. Much to my delight.” She couldn’t suppress a smile.

“A cop?” My brow wrinkled.

“Yeah. I peeked down the hallway and kept my lips zipped. He said he was with the sheriff’s office. Jeff pitched a tantrum, but the guy cuffed him and dragged him out. I sure as hell wasn’t going to interfere.”

“What did he look like?”