“That’s mine.”
The gruff male voice behind her had her jumping and spinning around, the fistful of money caught to her chest as if to keep her heart from jumping out of her ribcage. The breath stilled in her lungs, otherwise she would have screamed.
Carl stared at the woman, the gun trained on her forehead. He blinked, then smiled. “You’re too old to be Samantha, but the resemblance is strong.”
Darla forced herself to swallow, then contemplated how to get around him and out of the house without getting shot.
“Wait… are you her mother?” The look of pure amazement on his face distorted his normal countenance of either a frown or the look of evil mischievousness in his eyes.
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about. I thought the house was empty. How did you get in?”
He tipped his hea
