by Rita Herron
Now, he wasn’t so sure.
Outside, the festivities continued as Mason and Cara cracked open the champagne. Miles McGregor made a toast in celebration of the new life the couple were starting together. They were happy, smiling, looking forward to their future.
Something he hadn’t done since that horrible day seven years ago.
Finally, he cleared his throat, willing himself to be strong. He’d waited years for this call; he had to know. “You found him?”
“Yes, we think so,” Julie said. “I’ll explain when I arrive.”
“Explain? What the hell does that mean?” All his pent-up anger, guilt and worry churned through him. “Just tell me, dammit, do you know where he is?”
“Not exactly,” Julie said. “Like I said, I’ll explain when I get there.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to ask the question that had tormented him every night since Will had disappeared, but he couldn’t bring himself to.
Not yet.
Julie hung up, and he sat down on the porch swing and knotted his hands into fists and waited. There was no way he could join the celebration right now.
Instead, he watched for Julie’s car, knowing she had the answers that he’d told himself he needed to move on with his life.
Only he’d been kidding himself.
The scenarios that screamed through his head did nothing but make him feel sick inside. And the truth, no matter what it was, couldn’t be pretty or Julie would have told him over the phone.
He had to brace himself for the worst. Trouble was he didn’t know what would be more horrible—finding out his brother was dead, or that he’d been held hostage and abused for years.
* * *
JULIE ADMIRED THE sprawling pastures and riding pens as she drove onto the BBL. She’d read about the ranch in the papers and seen pictures of the main house, cabins, stables, camp activities and counseling services offered by the ranch and had been stunned at what Brody had accomplished.
He’d always been a rough, hardworking cowboy and loved riding and roping, but he hadn’t grown up wealthy. In fact, his mother had died when he was younger and his father had barely kept their small ranch going.
He’d also blamed Brody when Will had disappeared, destroying his relationship with his son. She wondered if they’d made up before his father had died.
If not, she knew that Brody carried that sting with him.
Maybe it was the reason he’d started the BBL.
She’d also followed the story featuring him as one of the wealthiest ranchers in Texas now. He’d worked his way up on other ranches, made some good investments, and accumulated a fortune.
But instead of letting that wealth go to his head, he’d devoted a huge portion of it to this ranch. He’d also become a role model for troubled boys, which impressed her even more.
She watched several quarter horses running freely in the pasture and smiled. The sight of the animals reminded her of her own dreams when she was young.
She’d wanted to be a vet. Had imagined her and Brody marrying and having a small spread and children. And of course, she would take care of the animals.
A deep throbbing took root in her chest and wouldn’t let go. Those had been a teenager’s foolish fantasies.
Again, she glanced at the horses with their beautiful manes dancing in the wind.
Anything to distract her from the task ahead.
And from the idea of seeing Brody again.
God, she had loved him so much.
And he had loved her.
They’d made love and whispered promises to each other in the dark, promises of marriage and family and babies.
Then Will had gone missing and Brody’s love for her had turned to hatred.
Gripping the steering wheel tighter, she tried to ignore the pain that memory triggered. She had survived and become a seasoned agent because of it.
Today was about doing her job.
Still, as the big farmhouse came into view with its sweeping trees and the sunset casting golden hues over the land, her heart fluttered crazily.
Brody and some fellow ranchers donated time and money to the project, funding camps, riding lessons and counseling.
There was no doubt in her mind that losing Will had inspired Brody to start the BBL. After all, he’d suffered some hard knocks growing up, but he’d had a tender side, as well, especially for those less fortunate than him.
God knows he’d saved her from the wrath of her uncle a few times.
Shrugging off those memories, as well, she spotted the remnants of the wedding celebration to the right side of the farmhouse. Once long ago when she’d been an innocent girl, she’d fantasized about her own wedding.
But not anymore.
Will’s disappearance and the horrific things she’d seen on the job had killed those fantasies.
She struggled to catch her breath. And now she had to destroy Brody’s hope that Will would come home safe and happy.
At least he was alive, though. That had to mean something.
She parked, her gaze straying to the front porch of the house and her chest squeezed as she spotted Brody sitting in that porch swing. Seven years had only made him more handsome.
The young boy had become a man, all filled out and muscular. His dark hair was a little longer, nearly brushing his collar, his jawbones just as prominent, his skin a deep bronze from working outside.
He stood as she got out of the car and she swore he’d grown an inch or two in height. She knew every muscle and inch of that skin beneath his chambray shirt, every place that made him moan and sigh with pleasure.
The memory made her yearn to touch him again.
He wore a long duster and a dress shirt indicating he’d been at Mason’s wedding when she’d called. But his somber expression told her he held the weight of the world on those broad shoulders.
Then his gaze pinned her with a look of contempt, and she almost wished she’d let another agent handle this job.
But it was her fault Will had gone missing, and she had vowed to herself that one day she’d find him and bring him back to Brody.
Now she knew Will was alive, she had to keep that promise.
No matter how much it cost her.
Chapter Two
Brody had imagined what it would be like to see Julie again, but not like this. Not with her holding the answers that he’d needed for so long.
Still, he couldn’t help but look her over. She was more beautiful than he’d remembered. She was slightly slimmer than before, but her figure was still luscious, her hair the color of wheat, her lips pouty, and her eyes the same golden shade of green.
Those eyes had once mesmerized him, seduced him, made him want to give her everything her heart desired. Made him want to save her from that vicious uncle of hers, and promise her the moon.
But instead of the flirty, vibrant glow they had always emanated, instead of the soft innocence he’d known, they radiated with a cold harshness that nearly took his breath.
Because of what she’d seen on the job—or because of him?
The cruel words he’d tossed at her the last time he’d seen her echoed in his head. God, he’d been a bastard. Eaten up with his own guilt and fear.
And he’d taken it all out on her.
“Brody,” she said, her voice slightly warbling. “Maybe we should go inside to talk.”
The wedding party had left and Brody wasn’t sure he wanted to go inside. He needed the fresh air to stem the nausea rolling through him. “Out here is fine.”
Her fingers tensed around her shoulder bag, then he noticed it was more of a briefcase than a purse. “I have some things to show you, some photographs,” she said indicating the bag. “We really need a place to spread them out.”
His gut tightened. Pictures that would tell a story about what had happened to his little brother...
God help him. Did he really want to know?
“I understand this is difficult,” Julie said.
“Please, Brody, let’s go inside and get it over with.”
That tone sucked the hope from him. Was she afraid of his reaction?
Afraid of him?
The need to apologize nagged at him, but he couldn’t make his voice work. She was right. Prolonging whatever news she’d come to deliver was only putting off the inevitable. Better she tell him then she could leave.
And he could deal with it in his own way.
Resigned, he gestured toward the door, then opened it. She paused to study the foyer when she entered, her gaze sweeping across the hardwood floors to the winding staircase that led to his master suite and the guest rooms. The downstairs consisted of his own office with other offices available for his partners, and he’d converted the detached garage into a clinic for medical and counseling purposes.
“I heard about the BBL and the wonderful things you’re doing here,” Julie said. “You should be proud, Brody.”
He gave a clipped nod, well aware they were both making polite conversation to avoid the real topic as he led her to his office.
“Do you want coffee?” he asked, still stalling.
She shook her head. “No, thanks.” Then she opened her bag and removed a file and laid it on the conference table in the middle of the room.
His stomach twisted, and he leaned his hands on the table and faced her as she sat down. “For God’s sake, just tell me, Julie. Is Will dead or is he alive?”
* * *
JULIE SIGHED, her heart aching at the pain in Brody’s voice. “We think he’s alive.”
The air left his lungs in a rush. “What do you mean, you think he’s alive?”
“Sit down, Brody, and I’ll explain.”
“Sit down?” Brody exploded. “You know how long I’ve waited to find out what happened to him, and you’re dragging it out. Why are you torturing me like this?”
Julie choked back a cry of denial. How could he think she’d be so cruel?
Because he still hates you, still blames you...
She swallowed back her emotions, plastered on her professional mask. She had to pretend like this wasn’t personal, treat it like any other case.
“I’m not trying to do that,” she finally said. “But it’s been seven years, Brody. Children change as they grow up. They...Will won’t look exactly the same as he did the last time you saw him.”
Brody’s face grew pinched. But he sat down in the chair, then raked a hand through his hair. “Okay, tell me what you know. Where is he? What happened to him?”
Julie inhaled a deep breath. “We’ve used facial recognition software, a program that gives us sketches of what Will might look like as he aged, to keep his file updated.”
Brody nodded. “And?”
“We’ve kept that photo in the national databases, and we got a hit.”
“A hit?”
She nodded. “Yes, but we’ll have to run DNA to be certain that this teenager is your brother.”
Brody clenched his jaw. “Go on.”
This was the hard part. “Will showed up in camera feed from a robbery at a convenience store in Amarillo yesterday.”
Brody’s eyes widened. “A robbery? Who was he with? Was he hurt?”
Julie opened the folder and removed the photos they’d pulled from the camera feed. “He was with another teenager,” Julie said. “And no, he wasn’t hurt. Will was the one holding a gun on the cashier.”
* * *
BRODY’S MIND BLURRED for a moment. Did Julie say his brother had held a gun on a cashier? “That can’t be right,” he said. “Will...wouldn’t...”
“Brody,” Julie said. “Like I said, we can’t be certain it is Will, but it looks like him.” She spread another series of shots on the table. “See for yourself.”
Brody choked back another protest of denial then leaned forward to study the shots. He wanted to insist that his brother would never rob anyone or use a gun to threaten another person, but it had been seven long years since he’d seen him.
Seven years where Will had been off the grid.
No telling what had happened to him in that time.
“I’m sorry, Brody, I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear,” Julie said. “But the good news is that, if this is Will, he’s alive.”
Her words reverberated in his head. Within a few weeks after Will had gone missing, the police had given up. Since the family hadn’t received a ransom note, the authorities had deemed his brother dead.
So they’d stopped looking.
But he’d sworn on his mother’s grave that he would never give up.
Julie was right—if this boy was Will, at least he was alive. That meant there was hope he might get him back. But what had happened to him in the meantime?
Would Will even remember him?
Julie shifted, and he jerked his gaze to the photos, determined to ignore the pull of attraction he still felt for her. He was ashamed of the way he’d treated her back then and owed her an apology.
But now wasn’t the time. First, he had to find out about his brother.
“What do you think?” Julie asked, all business.
He chewed the inside of his cheek. It was hard to see the teenager’s entire face because of that hoodie. A hoodie he’d worn to hide himself from the cameras, meaning he had planned the robbery.
He envisioned his brother the way he was when he’d last seen him. Blondish-brown hair, freckles, crooked teeth, a cowlick that wouldn’t quit. He’d been a pest at times, always following Brody around on the ranch, wanting him to show him riding tricks, spying on him when he’d tried to be alone with Julie.
That last day Brody had been annoyed with him. He’d driven Will to the rodeo, but he and Julie had wanted to slip away and make out, and he’d decided nothing was going to stop him. His old man had always shuffled Will off on him to watch while he boozed it up, and Brody had had enough.
He’d found Will a seat in the stands, thinking he’d stay put until the show was over, then he and Julie had rushed into one of the empty stalls and begun tearing at each other’s clothes.
It was the best sex he’d ever had.
And the worst day of his life.
When they’d finally dressed and headed back to the stands, Will had been gone. At first he hadn’t panicked. He’d assumed his brother had gone for popcorn or to watch one of the rodeo riders saddle up.
But an hour later total fear had seized him.
That terror had kept him in knots since.
“Brody, what do you think?” Julie asked.
He pushed the haunting memories away so he wouldn’t break down in front of Julie. “It looks like him,” he said. “But...I can’t imagine Will robbing a store. He was always a good kid.”
A tense heartbeat passed between them. “We have no idea why Will would rob a store,” Julie said. “Or what he’s been through the last few years. Someone could have forced him to commit the robbery.”
His gaze met hers. She was right.
“There’s a gang pulling similar crimes across the state,” Julie continued. “It’s possible that he was picked up years ago and raised by a family. Maybe for some reason he’s gotten in with the wrong crowd and this was some kind of gang initiation.”
She was making excuses for him, trying to put the best-case scenario on the situation. It was possible that some loving woman or couple, desperate for a child, had kidnapped Will and raised him as their own.
But they both knew there were other possibilities. The horror stories of pedophiles and kidnappers who abducted children and used them for their own pleasure, who sold them or traded them to other sickos, filled the news. Sex, abuse...the crimes were horrific.
And here in this photo, the teenager, Will, didn’t look as if he was being forced to rob the store. It appeared to be a premeditated act.
“If this is him and he’s alive, why didn’t he try to contact me over the years?” Brody asked.
Another awkward pause, then Julie raked the pictures back into a sta
ck. “I don’t know. It’s possible he’s suffering from Stockholm syndrome. We’ll find out when we catch him.”
Brody slanted his eyes toward her, his heart pounding. Of course the police were looking for Will. And when they caught him, they would arrest him.
“Do you have any idea where he is?”
“Not yet,” Julie said. “But when we determine a location, we’re going to need your help, Brody.”
“What do you mean?”
Julie’s eyes went cold again. “To bring him in.”
Anger heated his blood. He couldn’t believe what she was asking of him.
Reeling from the very idea, he paced across the room and stared out the window. Outside, a carriage draped in white lace and ribbons carried Mason and his bride to their cabin for the night. They looked so happy and in love. Soon they’d be leaving for their honeymoon and starting their future together.
A future he’d once wanted with this woman.
But she wasn’t the loving, tenderhearted girl he’d known back then. She was a hardened agent who hadn’t come here to offer him comfort. No, dammit, she wanted him to set a trap for his brother.
This ranch, the boys, his home...he’d done it all for Will. All in hopes that he’d find him and bring him home.
But Julie wanted him to help send Will to jail instead.
He didn’t know if he could do it.
“I understand this is a lot to take in,” Julie said, buttoning the navy jacket she wore. Another reminder she was a TBI agent, not here because she cared. “But think about it, Brody.”
“What happens if I don’t help?”
She dropped her gaze to the file. “Then we go after him by ourselves.”
“And if you catch him and he fights back?”
Tension stretched between them for a long second, then she shifted and straightened in the chair. “I’ll do everything I can to make sure he’s not hurt.”
Brody saw red. “Listen here, Julie. My poor little brother has been missing for years, was probably kidnapped, possibly abused and most likely forced to steal, and you cops want to bring him in like he’s some hardened criminal. He was a victim, for God’s sake.”