by Dee Stewart
Anger burned in Jack. It coursed through his veins and caused heat to flush his face. “Damn you Barringtons! If something happened to Devon, it’s your fault. Where did your father see her? At your estate?”
“No. At Barrington Industries.”
“Now we have a place to start.”
They fell silent. During the rest of the drive, Jack didn’t know what was running through Blair’s mind, but he concentrated on confronting Jasper and Shane Barrington and finding Devon. He began to imagine the worst. Foul play.
Blair parked in front of the main house. “Dinner will be served shortly. We’ll find my father and Shane in the formal living room, probably having a drink. Reed’s been keeping to himself since he learned the truth.”
Jack followed Blair into the expansive home. Through the wide-open double doors of the formal living room, he saw a blond man he didn’t recognize cup the pretty face of a dark-haired woman. Smiling into her eyes, he planted his mouth on hers in a deep kiss.
Jack lost his tenuous hold on his anger. “You son of a bitch!” He rushed forward, spun the startled man away from the woman, and threw a combination of kicks and punches that sent the blond flying backward. Blood spurted from his broken nose and a split lip. “Devon loves you! And you’re fuckin’ cheating on her! She left because she didn’t think you would forgive her for your brother’s sham, and all the while you’ve been jerking her around. I should kill you!”
The woman cried, “No!” and knelt next to the fallen man Jack presumed was Reed Barrington. “Oh, my God, Shane!” She cradled his head in her lap as he struggled to breathe and worked his jaw to make sure it wasn’t broken.
“Shane?” Jack shook his sore fists.
“Yes, Shane! What’s the matter with you?” the woman demanded. “Are you insane?”
While Blair went to get a first aid kit, an older man joined them. “Who the hell are you? You just burst into my home and attacked my son. Speak, before I call the police.”
“I’m Dr. Jack Taylor, Devon’s ex-husband. You must be Jasper Barrington. Consider your age a blessing, otherwise I’d knock you on your ass, too, for what you did to Devon.”
“Why don’t you try knocking me on my ass?”
Their heads swiveled to face the man standing in the doorway. He flexed his muscles and took menacing steps toward Jack. Jack balled his fists and planted his feet firmly beneath him. He bent his knees a little in anticipation of a fight. So, this was Reed Barrington, the man he’d seen with Devon in the clinic. As he assessed his brawny opponent, Jack wondered how he had won Devon’s heart. Recalling what she’d said and the way she’d looked in the clinic with her arm around Reed’s waist, he knew then he’d lost her. But now maybe he would have another chance to prove to her he had changed. At the moment, though, he still worried for her safety.
“Reed. We meet again. I guess you didn’t take my advice.”
Reed merely inclined his head. “You can have Devon if you want her.”
“You cocky bastard. All of you Barringtons make me sick to my stomach. You played with Devon’s life and ruined it. Now she’s missing, and you don’t give a damn.”
That startled Reed. His eyes reflected a moment of concern before it disappeared, and a blank expression replaced it. He offered a nonchalant shrug. “Why do you think she’s missing?”
“First of all, genius, I wouldn’t be here if Devon had safely returned to San Francisco. She called and asked me to meet her plane. She wasn’t on it. No one has heard from her, and she’s not responding to her messages. You know her. She would never do something like this. Of course, I never thought she would agree to be someone’s fake fiancée, either. That’s all your doing. If something has happened to her, it’s on you Barringtons.” Jack’s eyes pinned Reed. “Especially you. You have no idea how lucky you are to have earned Devon’s love.”
Reed didn’t flinch. Before Jack finished speaking, Jasper had called a personal friend in the Dallas Police Department.
“Detective Kennedy, it’s Jasper. We have a situation. Will you please come to the estate?” He paused. “Yes, of course. We’ll be waiting for you.” Jasper faced the others. “Detective Kennedy is on his way. Miss Turner, why don’t you take Shane upstairs and tend to him?”
Blair and Miss Turner helped Shane to his feet. He glared at Jack and vowed, “I will pay you back, Taylor.”
“Fuck you. You’re a selfish son of a bitch. If I had known the truth months ago, I would have outed you to your equally selfish father and extricated Devon from this situation before she stupidly fell in love with yet another selfish Barrington. And by the way, I include myself. If I hadn’t been such a selfish, short-sighted idiot, we would still be married.”
No one responded. Blair and Miss Turner left the living room with Shane being supported between them. Reed went to the bar and poured himself a shot of whiskey. He didn’t offer Jack a drink, and Barrington’s rudeness aggravated him even more.
“So was Devon right? Are you such a self-righteous jackass you wouldn’t forgive her for a situation out of her control? Do you even love her?”
Reed drained his shot glass and poured more whiskey. He gulped it and stared hard at Jack. “I’m not discussing Devon with you.”
“Coward,” Jack tossed at him. “You don’t even have the fucking guts to admit you drove Devon away.”
Reed slammed the shot glass down on the bar and started to leave the living room, but the hulking form of Detective Kennedy filled the doorway. Jasper approached him with an outstretched hand.
“Donald,” he greeted him by his first name. “Come in.”
“Jasper,” the detective acknowledged him. “What’s going on?”
“We’re not sure…”
Jack cut him off. “I’ll tell you what’s going on, Detective. My ex-wife, Dr. Devon Brooks, is missing. She never made it home to San Francisco yesterday, and she’s not answering her cell phone.”
“Your ex-wife, you say?” He removed a notepad from his inside jacket pocket. “And you are?”
“Dr. Jack Taylor. Devon and I have been divorced for a little over a year. And before you even think about pursuing me as a suspect let me be perfectly clear. I didn’t have anything to do with her disappearance. I’m here to find her.” Jack tossed his head in the direction of Reed and Jasper. “Talk to them. Old man Barrington was the last person to see Devon before she went missing.”
“Is that true?” Detective Kennedy turned toward Jasper.
“I have no idea,” Jasper replied.
Jack snorted in disdain and wanted to deck him for his cagey answer. “Liar.”
“How about we establish a timeline of Dr. Brooks’ activities yesterday,” the detective suggested. “Jasper, did you see your son’s fiancée, yes or no?”
“Son’s fiancée,” Jack sneered. “Here’s the truth, Detective. Shane Barrington devised this elaborate scheme to pretend to be engaged in order to wrest control of Barrington Industries from his father. He dragged Devon into it, and Jasper, who knew the truth from the beginning according to his daughter, cost my ex-wife her job at San Francisco General Hospital so she didn’t have a choice but to play along. And that asshole,” he pointed at Reed, “caused Devon to leave after she confessed the scam to Jasper at his office.”
Detective Kennedy held up his hand. “Whoa. Slow down. Will someone please start at the beginning?”
“Sit down, Donald,” Jasper invited him. “I’ll tell you the truth.”
In the middle of Jasper’s explanation, Blair, Shane, and Miss Turner, Alana, Jack now learned, joined them. It gratified Jack to see bruises already forming on Shane’s face. He deserved much worse. Now, if he could get his hands on Reed Barrington and do some damage to him, Devon would be avenged.
At the conclusion of Jasper’s story, Detective Kennedy studied his notes a moment before he looked at Reed. “What time did you last see Dr. Brooks yesterday?”
“Around seven-thirty in the morning. As I left her in m
y bed.” Reed smirked at Jack.
Son of a bitch.
The detective addressed Blair. “Did Dr. Brooks show up at the clinic at all yesterday?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Who else was in the house yesterday morning?”
“Mrs. Peters, our housekeeper, and Mr. O’Rourke, our butler,” Jasper answered.
“I need to speak to them.”
“I’ll go find them,” Blair volunteered.
Jack knew the detective was being methodical, but he chafed at the slow process. Every moment they spent piecing together a timeline put Devon in more danger. He whipped out his cell phone and tried calling her again. No luck. He swore beneath his breath.
When Mrs. Peters and Mr. O’Rourke entered the living room, they appeared both perplexed and concerned.
“Sir, what’s the matter?” Mr. O’Rourke asked.
“No one has seen or heard from Miss Brooks since yesterday morning,” Jasper informed him. “What time did you see her?”
The housekeeper and butler glanced at each other.
“Between ten-thirty and eleven, maybe?” Mrs. Peters wrung her hands.
“That sounds about right,” Jasper commented. “I saw her around eleven-thirty in my office at BI.”
“She said her flight from Dallas was landing at four o’clock,” Jack interjected.
Detective Kennedy nodded. “So, she disappeared somewhere between Barrington Industries and the airport. Did she catch a cab or Uber to BI?” he asked the household staff.
“No. She drove one of the Barringtons’ cars,” Mr. O’Rourke replied.
“Make and model and license plate number?”
Jasper supplied the details. Before Detective Kennedy called it in to his precinct, he asked, “What was Dr. Brooks wearing when you last saw her, Mrs. Peters?”
“A denim skirt and a pink sleeveless blouse,” the worried housekeeper replied.
“Does anyone have a recent picture of her?”
The Barrington brothers glared at each other. “Check online,” Shane suggested. “There’s one of her and Reed attending The Phantom of the Opera.”
Detective Kennedy found the photo on his cell phone and called his lieutenant. “We have a situation, Lieutenant. Dr. Devon Brooks, Shane Barrington’s, uh, ex-fiancée has been missing for over twenty-four hours. No, sir, Barrington is not a suspect at this time. She was last seen at Barrington Industries around noon yesterday. I need a BOLO on her car.” He rattled off the information. “If you could send me security camera footage of the garage at BI, the surrounding area, and the airport, I would appreciate it. Yes, sir, I will keep you informed.” He gazed at the group watching him. “Is there anything else you’d like to tell me?”
“We’ve told you everything we know,” Jasper answered.
Detective Kennedy focused on Alana Turner. “Who are you?”
“Alana Turner. I’m Shane’s real fiancée,” she explained and held out her left hand. A diamond solitaire sparkled in the light.
Jack threw his hands up in the air. “You people are fucking crazy. Devon is missing, and you proposed to another woman?”
Shane’s bruised face turned bright red. “I didn’t know Devon was missing. She never bothered to tell me she went to see Dad. I found out when he called me into his office.”
“And then you what? Ran straight to your lover and proposed? Jesus Christ. If I were you, Alana, I would think twice about marrying into this family. So, let me just throw this out there. Did dear old dad hand over his empire to you?”
Shane winced. “No.”
“So your fucking charade was all for nothing and may have cost Devon her life.”
Detective Kennedy frowned. “Why do you believe that, Dr. Taylor?”
“Don’t you think this is about money, Detective?”
“There’s been no mention of a ransom demand.” His phone pinged with an incoming message. He studied it for a moment. “We have a lead. I need to get to Barrington Industries immediately.”
“What is it?” Jack demanded.
“I’ll keep you posted.” At that hollow reassurance, Detective Kennedy left them with a hastiness that served to increase Jack’s concern and uneasiness.
“I’m not hanging around here,” Jack declared. “Not when Devon’s life is at stake. I’m following Detective Kennedy to Barrington Industries.” He started to call a taxi.
“I’ll go with you,” Reed volunteered.
“Oh, so now you’re concerned?”
Reed’s eyes glittered with animosity. “Shut the hell up. I’ve had just about enough of you and your sanctimonious bullshit.”
He stomped out of the living room, leaving Jack to follow him.
Chapter Seventeen
A grim tension settled between Reed and Jack as they headed into Dallas. For miles neither spoke. Seething with anger and jealousy and fear, Jack turned toward Reed and said, “I want Devon back.”
Reed’s eyes flickered with an undefinable emotion. “I’m not standing in your way.”
“Why are you so willing to believe the worst about her?”
“Because I pegged her for a fraud the moment I met her. I wished I had listened to my instincts.”
“It’s not her fault. When I realized how empty my life was without her, I left my job in Chicago and headed to San Francisco. I went about trying to get her back all wrong. Instead of begging her on my hands and knees to give us another chance, I came on strong and acted like an insensitive jerk. If I hadn’t upset her, if I had only asked her for the opportunity to talk, she wouldn’t have been in Shane’s sights. I blame myself for her predicament. But you, all you had to do was reassure her you would love her no matter what and she wouldn’t have run away.”
A muscle ticked in Reed’s jaw. “You don’t know me.”
“No. But I know Devon. The look in her eyes, the expression on her face, when I saw the two of you together at the clinic said it all. She fell hard for you. Devon used to look at me like that.”
They fell into a resentful silence. By the time Reed and Jack reached Barrington Industries, the parking garage crawled with cops and crime scene technicians around Devon’s car.
“Shit!” Jack swore as he climbed out of the cab of Reed’s truck. He hurried toward Detective Kennedy. “Have you found something?”
The detective shot them an annoyed look. “We have footage of Dr. Brooks being taken by two men.”
“What? Let me see,” both Reed and Jack demanded in unison. They glared at each other.
Detective Kennedy pulled up the footage on his cell phone. “Take a look and see if you recognize these men.”
Reed let out a string of vile expletives. “I don’t believe this. These guys work on the ranch. Harry Walton and Smith Brown. They were missing for hours yesterday. Just wait until we catch them. They’ll rue the day they put their dirty hands on Devon.”
“Any idea where they would take her? More importantly, why?”
“No, none.”
“Come to the station and we’ll investigate further. We found Dr. Brooks’ purse but not her cell phone. With any luck, we’ll be able to pinpoint her location if it’s on, or at least get an idea of where she was when it last pinged off a cell tower.”
On the short drive to Detective Kennedy’s precinct, Jack asked, “How well do you know those guys?”
“They’ve worked for me for about two years. Do I know them personally? No. I don’t socialize with the hired help.” Hearing Jack’s derisive snort, he gritted his teeth. “Yeah, you don’t need to tell me how pretentious I sounded.”
“I don’t understand why Devon fell in love with you. You’re not her type at all.”
“I could say the same about you. Look, I don’t want to discuss this anymore. Let’s just find Devon so you can take her home where she belongs.”
Jack glanced sideways at him. “So, you’re really giving Devon up? For mistaken pride? Jesus, Barrington, what the hell is wrong with you? Devon
loves you in spite of yourself, and you’re choosing to let her go? Man, didn’t you listen to a damn thing I said?”
“One more word, Taylor, and I’m going to pull over and knock your teeth down your throat.”
Jack slumped in his seat. Reed ignored him and clenched the steering wheel. Rage and regret and trepidation fought for dominance in him. At the moment, he didn’t know how he felt other than helpless and bothered by Jack’s accusations.
He tried to recall conversations he’d had with Harry and Smitty. Aside from his reaction to them yesterday, after they had already snatched Devon, he couldn’t think of anything he said or did that might have prompted them to do this. And Devon was too kindhearted to disrespect them.
It didn’t feel like revenge to Reed. Maybe it was about money after all, and the pair of kidnappers were biding their time until they contacted the Barringtons. He remembered Harry’s bruised and battered face and wondered if he were in some sort of trouble. The story about being in a barfight was probably a lie.
Reed’s mind whirled with possibilities as he and Jack arrived at the precinct, identified themselves, and asked to be shown into Detective Kennedy’s office. A busy sergeant pointed over his shoulder at the glassed-in office behind him.
The detective motioned them to sit in a pair of hard metal chairs. Studying his computer screen, he began, “Here’s what I’ve gleaned so far. Harry Walton has worked on different ranches in the area, but he has a clean record. I spoke to one former employer who said he laid Walton off due to financial hardships. Smith Brown got into trouble as a juvenile, petty crimes. Nothing too serious. He’s never spent any time in prison. I don’t see a motive for kidnapping. They’re both making a good salary working for you, Barrington.”
“Try gambling,” Reed suggested. “It crossed my mind on the way here. Harry came to work one day with his face smashed in. He said he’d gotten into a barfight, but now I have my doubts.”
“All right, let me check that angle.”
As Detective Kennedy worked on his computer, Reed continued, “There’s something else I just remembered. Devon passed out at the clinic, and when I found her and took her to the hospital, the doctor noticed bruises on her arms. He said he wasn’t sure how she got them. Not by fainting, anyway. And she wasn’t lying unconscious in the examination room where she’d delivered a baby.”