Auntie Jane’s gaze darted over to Sarah like a startled sparrow. “I . . .” Her lips parted as if the inhalation she’d just taken was trapped halfway down her throat. She blinked, then fixed her eyes on her husband’s back. “I turned on Frozen.” Auntie Jane glanced over again. “It’s her favorite movie. She would watch it over and over if I let her.” A sad smile graced her lips. “Listen,” she whispered softly. “There is something you need to know.”

Phillip turned abruptly. His eyes were cold, hawklike. “What are you two talking about?”

Sarah saw a slight tremor ripple through Auntie Jane, but she met her husband’s gaze straight on. “Lilly,” she said in a clear, calm voice. “A terrible misunderstanding has happened. I’m not sure how it came to pass, but it needs to be rectified.”

“Bullshit.” Phillip stormed over, grabbed Auntie Jane’s arm. “You will tell her nothing,” he hissed as he dragged her away from Sarah. The picnic basket tumbled from Jane’s arms, the contents scattering on the ground. He stopped near a large deep hole hidden by a copse of trees. There was a good-sized northern red oak tree lying on its side. The root ball was wrapped in burlap and wire mesh. There was also a large bag of fertilizer, a spade, and a backhoe. Auntie Jane started crying, obviously upset about the fallen basket.

“Hey, dude, seriously?” Sarah dropped to her knees, causing her injured abdomen to complain. She didn’t care about the damned picnic, but clearly her aunt did. Sarah turned the basket right-side up. “Just because you’re feeling crappy,” Sarah said, anger flaring as she returned the fallen food to the basket, “doesn’t give you the right to manhandle Auntie Jane.”

“Shut up, you spoiled brat!” The viciousness in Phillip’s voice jerked Sarah’s attention from the fallen food to him.

“Wow,” she said, getting to her feet. “Nice to know how you really feel.”

“Phillip, no!” Auntie Jane cried. “Put that away. What are you doing?” And that’s when Sarah noticed the snub-nosed pistol in her uncle Phillip’s hand.

“Cleaning up loose ends,” he replied, his pistol trained on Sarah. “I had imagined that when Kevin saw this little slut show up last night with a man she was obviously shtupping, he would have taken care of my little problem for me. No such luck. Oh well. Needs must.”

It took a moment for his words to penetrate Sarah’s brain. She was still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that her parents’ trusted lawyer and friend appeared to be holding a gun on her. “You . . . you were the one who forced Vicki to call?” Sarah was hoping she had heard him wrong, that there was no gun and the painkillers were making her delusional.

“That’s right.” He rocked back on his heels with a smirk on his face, so pleased with himself.