“It’s a hell of a thing what life does to us, Ren. A hell of a thing.”

Isn’t that the truth, Ren thought, checking the time on the oven, then her pies. Everything was coming along. Tipper ambled up to her, she rubbed his head and reflected on Doug Elam’s observation all those years ago.

“It’s true,” she said looking toward the mountains. “You never know what life has in store for you.”

-Chapter 27-

Ice Lake, Washington

After Chet’s death and after some soul-searching, Ren sold the towing business to a family in Big Bear River.

They seemed like good people, and that was important to her.

Pike Weaver, a former trucker like Chet, and his wife, Sally, were originally from Minnesota. They were a young couple, in their thirties, and had two boys. Ren sometimes saw them in town, saw their gentle manner and felt she’d put Chet’s company in good hands.

And while Ren missed her husband every day, she never felt alone.

She had her friends and her card club. Every week someone was the host for poker, snacks, and gossip. She enjoyed keeping busy, baking for local diners, cafés, and church charities.

Ren remembered the time she was at a church fundraiser in Split Cloud Point, delivering tarts and pies.

She was thinking that little by little she was healing; and that she had a lot to be thankful for when she got word from a sheriff’s deputy.

Lee had been shot.

-Chapter 28-

Seattle, Washington

Lee continued taking stock of his life.

Man, he was so blessed to have Eileen and the kids in his life.

He knew that now more than ever as he resurrected another terrible day – the one years ago that had triggered the chain of events that put him in the tough situation he was in now.

Every detail came back to him.

He was working at the truck center on a day just like any other day. They had a lot of big jobs on the go but they were getting a handle on the workload.

When Lee managed to get a coffee break he slipped down to the bank on the corner. He needed to take care of an issue with his credit card and a matter concerning his balance, something a teller could help him with.

The bank was busy when Lee took his place in one of the long lines. Lee’s line moved excruciatingly slow. A couple in their late twenties and then a man in his sixties were ahead of him.

In the midst of it all, a janitor was mopping the floor. Maybe something was spilled earlier. Things were taking longer than Lee had expected. He needed to get back to work and considered abandoning the task when three men dressed in coveralls and gas masks burst into the bank.