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at a time, Bobbie,” called Bram, “and don’t get between them and me.”

Bobbie grabbed zip ties from his jacket pocket and, one by one, flipped each assailant to his stomach and cuffed him as Spider had done. Once the trio was secured, Bobbie dragged the injured man to lie with his comrades.

“Which one’s Artur?” Spider asked me, his voice tight and cold enough to freeze air in July.

“The guy nearest the tree line.” I swallowed hard, knowing the rage that had burned inside me at the deadly force Artur so coldly promised against Spider’s children and Aunt Terry. How much more hotly must it flare in their father! “Don’t kill him, Spider. We need him alive to exonerate Mick.”

“Too damn bad,” he muttered. When he reached Artur, he performed a careful search and set aside a gun and a wicked-looking knife.

A Korshun? I wondered.

Spider rolled Artur onto his back and bent down, face-to-face, speaking words I could not hear. When Artur spat, Spider’s fist connected with the killer’s cheek. With a sharp craaack, Artur’s head snapped to the side. Spider rose. “That’s for threatening my family,” he said as he towered above Artur. “It would be much worse for you if Angie didn’t need you.”

He and Bobbie finished searching the others while Bram stood sentinel. In the end, a pile of guns and knives lay alongside the jerry cans.

A surreal sense of detachment engulfed me, as if I were a spectator to the events that played out before me… until a wave of dizziness began to roll over me, and I reached out a hand to find support.

Spider quickly materialized at my side. “Y’okay?” He helped me to a sitting position. “Adrenaline overload. Totally normal.” He crouched and his voice softened. “You did great, Angie.” His hand gently rubbed my back in circles. “I will owe you forever. Now put your head down and breathe while I clear the house and get the kids and your aunt outta the safe room.”

Bobbie took his place next to me and put an arm across my shoulders. “You were awesome, Angie, but I have to tell you, I just about passed out when Bram got the call from Spider. We were at the shooting range together.”

“Good thing.” It emerged as a croak that morphed into a squeak. “Sorry. Vocal cords are tight.”

“Everything on me is tight,” Bobbie said, “except for a particular area that feels damn loose. I’m trying not to let go. No change of underwear.”

I started to giggle, and then the laughs turned to tears as Bobbie held me. Wukowski will be so upset at me putting myself in harm’s way, I thought, but oh, it will be lovely to be alive and let him rage.

Chapter 54

For this relief, much thanks.

William Shakespeare

With Bobbie’s hand under my elbow, I managed to rise and toddle forward on unsteady legs. Inside the kitchen, Aunt Terry rushed to me, intoning, “Thank you, Lord. Oh, thank you,” again and again as she enveloped me in her embrace.

I concentrated on my breath. In… out… repeat. It took several iterations before my heart stopped straining hard against my chest and my windpipe unlocked. “I need to sit down,” I told her. Bobbie pulled out a chair, and I gracelessly plopped into it.

From the basement stairs, Joey, Gabriella, and Daniel emerged, engulfed in their father’s arms.

He gazed at me over their heads. “Angie, Terry, I can never thank you enough. You saved the most precious things in life to me and Magda.” His normally impassive eyes filled with tears.

Before I could start to bawl, Joey shouted, “We played the best game of intwudah hide-and-seek evah, didn’t we, Daddy?”

Spider kissed the top of his head. “You sure did, Joey. The very best.” Easing back to look him in the face while still maintaining his fierce embrace, Spider said, “And thanks for showing Miss Angie what to do, because I never played the game with her, son.”

In a little boy voice, Joey asked, “Is Mommy heah?”

“Real soon,” Spider assured his mini-me.

I turned to Aunt Terry, whose expression reflected the exhaustion I felt. “You were a rock,” I told her.

She gave a wan smile and said, “I think that accolade belongs to you.”

“Then let’s agree to share it.”

Spider put the twins in their high chairs and produced bottles from the fridge. While he waited for them to warm in a pan of hot water, he produced a cup for Joey.

“I called in the assault. We don’t have much time before the SWAT team arrives,” Spider told us. “They’ll be on high alert. Any unexpected movement or sound can trigger a defensive response, so I want you all upstairs in the master bedroom while Bobbie and I go back outside and wait with Bram. We can defuse the situation.” With the expertise that only comes from caring for little ones, he tested the temperature of the twins’ bottles. “Just right,” he said. “Angie, Terry, would you each take a baby and a bottle?” Lifting Joey onto his shoulders, he led the way, and Aunt Terry and I followed him upstairs.

I held Gabriella as she drowsily sucked on her bottle, her intermittent breaths tickling my neck. Daniel’s head lolled against Aunt Terry’s shoulder. We gently eased them onto the big king-size bed, piling pillows around them for safety.

“I’ll let the SWAT leader know you’re in here, Angie. They’ll send someone up once they’ve secured the scene outside. Just stay put and keep away from the windows.” Swinging Joey down to the floor, he placed a hand on the child’s shoulders and said, “Listen to everything Miss Angie tells you, Joey, and do exactly as she says. Got it?”

“Got it,” the affirmative reply rang out.

“How about you sit with Miss Terry where Mommy likes to read to you, while I give Miss Angie a few more directions.”

Before Spider could rise, the boy’s arms wrapped around his father’s neck. “You won’t go away, Daddy, wight?”

“I’ll be right outside. I need to tell the police

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