When the vans pulled up to Myra’s farmhouse, everything was eerily quiet except for the sound of the gravel beneath the tires. The men unloaded the vans one at a time to assure that neither prisoner knew the other was there. Corbett was removed first. His warders uncuffed the shackles from the bolt, pulled him out of his seat, and steered him to the back door of the kitchen, the same kitchen where Charles prepared the luscious food he cooked. But Corbett would not be a dinner guest. Not ever, and probably not anywhere else ever again. Myra nodded at the guards, Avery Snowden’s more muscular employees, indicating they could leave. Kathryn grabbed Corbett’s arm and walked him down the stone steps.

On the other side of the basement, where the underground tunnels were hidden, there were two rooms. Dungeons would be a better description. Each had one bare lightbulb, a thin mattress, and a bucket for urinating and defecating. The setup was much the same as the men’s previous accommodations, except a little smaller. Kathryn put Corbett in one of the closet-sized spaces, told him to sit down, and informed him that someone would be back shortly.

Once the first van pulled away, the second one delivered Steinwood. Avery’s men released the shackles from the bolt and pulled him out. Myra and Annie watched as Kathryn yanked him down the same set of stone steps and saw him to his own private accommodations.

The sisters gathered in the kitchen. A late dinner would soon be served. They hooted when Charles let them know that Steinwood and Corbett were indisposed and would not be joining them. He had prepared a special stew for them.

Annie pulled out a few bottles of Dom Pérignon champagne. “We aren’t finished yet, but we are in the homestretch. We accomplished a heck of a lot in a very short time. I think a toast to the final act is appropriate.” Maggie gave her a high five, and the rest followed suit. She popped the corks and poured the contents of the bottles into coffee mugs. Myra smiled. She loved to do things in a proper manner, but Annie was spontaneous, and the mugs were the closest things to the fridge. “Here’s to us! The best bunch of sisters anyone could have!”

Cheers and whoops came from the group, setting off Lady and her pups, who yapped in agreement.

The sisters were hanging about the kitchen when Maggie asked Charles, “So, what kind of stew?”