"Aunt Williama, how are you doing?"
Williama Brown almost fainted at the sight of the man standing at her doorstep. Her breath hitched, her fingers tightening on the doorframe as she stared at him in disbelief. What was he doing here?
For a fleeting moment, she considered slamming the door in his face and running—running as far and as fast as her legs could carry her. But she knew better. It was foolish to even think she could outrun him. Even if she had a head start, Dale Brown would catch up to her with ease.
Schooling her expression, she forced a smile and stepped aside. "Dale. Come on inside."
She shut the door behind him, her mind racing. Should she call her husband? Would that escalate things too quickly or would the COlonel be able to save her? With everything she had carefully planned, Dale should have been knocking on Kimberlee's or Aiden's door by now—not hers.
