the front seat, fuming. His car better not have a fucking scratch in the paint. But he didn’t intervene. There was no stopping his brother once he was in motion.
Sam approached the front of the Charger, his posture apologetic. The woman got out of the Camry, and they both bent to examine her bumper. Sam pointed to the car. In the same movement, he punched her in the face. She hit the ground like a cinder block. Sam went to the open driver’s door. The trunk popped up. He ran back to the woman, scooped her up, and heaved her into the trunk. Slamming the lid, he jumped into the car and drove off. Mick followed. Where were they going?
He followed the Camry four miles until it turned off the country road into a dark lane. They parked in front of a mobile home with some sort of big building in the background. Mick got out of the car. A couple of dogs barked in the dark.
Sam got out of the Camry.
“Where are we?” Mick asked.
“Her place.” His brother had a purse in one hand. “I checked the phone listing. No man listed on the house or business. Let’s see if she lives alone.”
They went up to the front door. Sam used the key to open the door. He flipped the light switch. It was a mobile home, but a large one. They’d certainly lived in worse.
“Not bad.” Sam walked through the rooms. In the kitchen, he picked up an electric bill from the table. Only one name on the label: Joleen Walken.
Mick went into the bedroom. He checked the closet and drawers. “No men’s clothes.”
“Second bedroom is an office.” Sam closed another door. “Just girl stuff in the bathroom.”
Maybe this would work out. “Nice job, Sam.”
Sam grinned. “Gotta have faith. I know what I’m doing.”
He’d certainly had enough practice.
He went back to the car to get the girl. Mick held the door. Her body looked limp when he picked her up, but by the time his brother got her to the front step, she was awake and kicking.
Mick shut and locked the door. Sam dropped the girl on the floor. Her body hit the thin carpet with a breath-expelling thud. She crabbed backward. Her chest heaved, and her eyes searched for an escape route.
There wasn’t one.
Not with Sam.
“You want to go first, Mick?” Sam’s voice was tight with restraint. Edgy from being cooped up in the car, he needed to vent.
“No, that’s OK. I’ll pass on this one.”
“You sure? She looks like your type.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I’m tired. I’m going to take a nap.”
“OK.” Sam moved in.
Mick went into the bedroom and closed the door. It was best to let Sam work out his rage. Mick could wait. Soon he’d have the blond all to himself.
Chapter Seven
“I’m fine. Really.” Hannah studied her brother’s profile across the center console of his pickup. Physically, Grant hadn’t changed much over the months since he’d left the army to raise their murdered brother’s children. His frame was naturally large, and physical labor kept him heavily muscled. It was his eyes that were different. For the first time ever, he seemed content.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “I can cancel our trip.” Grant and the family were scheduled to leave the next morning.
“That’s ridiculous,” Hannah said. “You’ve been planning this vacation for months. Carson wants to see Mickey Mouse. After all he’s been through, he deserves a visit to Disney World. So do Ellie, Julia, and Nan. There’s no reason to let them all down. Besides, AnnaBelle and I aren’t going to do anything except take leisurely walks, watch movies, and eat pizza while you’re gone.”
He gave her a doubtful look. “Yesterday you told Brody you’d talk to the prosecutor.”
“That’ll take an hour, at best. Look, I’m still tired, but the aches and stiffness are better every day.” She wasn’t a hundred percent, but two days of rest had helped.
“You’ll keep the alarm set?”
Hannah raised her right hand. “I promise, and I know where the gun safe