by Rita Herron
His stomach roiled. “No. Nothing.”
“You know Hank’s parents didn’t want him. That Father is taking him in to make a man out of him. That his parents paid Father to take him.”
Kyle nodded. Although Brody’s words echoed in his head. Father had told him that his other daddy didn’t want him, either. That his brother wanted to get rid of him.
But Brody said they’d looked for him for years. That he...loved him.
That his real name was Will Bloodworth. That he was that little sandy-haired boy smiling in those pictures.
But Jeremy’s fury made him hold his tongue.
Jeremy hated anyone who came between him and Father. Anyone who crossed him.
Was he going to kill him now, then dump his body into the ravine where no one would ever find him?
Chapter Thirteen
Brody tried to focus on the road as they drove toward San Antonio. “Who was the kid they caught?”
“Tray Goodner. Apparently he tried a robbery on his own and the owner retaliated. Took a shot at him and skimmed his arm. Nothing serious but we’re meeting Chief Hurt at the hospital.”
“This is unreal,” Brody said his hands sweating. “How in the hell do you deal with this kind of stress all the time?”
Julie sighed tiredly and rubbed at a knot in her shoulder. “I wanted to find Will.”
Brody glanced at her, his heart in his throat. “I’m so sorry for the way I acted years ago. I was hurting and looking for someone to blame because I knew Will’s disappearance was my fault.”
“Forget it, Brody,” Julie said. “I’ve dealt with enough cases to see how people react during trauma. People either pull together or the trauma drives them apart.”
He grimaced. He should have clung to Julie back then, realized that he could lose her any minute just as he’d lost his brother. Instead, he’d blamed her and driven her to this dark world.
“Do you actually like the job?” he asked. “I mean, how could you?”
“It was challenging at first,” Julie said quietly. “But I felt like I was helping people, somehow making up for what I’d done wrong.”
Brody cradled her hand in his. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Julie. Like you told me, we were kids, teenagers doing what all teenagers do.”
“I know, but still, Will was hurt because of it. We have to save him.”
The fear lacing her voice told him she’d seen more unhappy endings to her cases than happy ones.
“When this is over, are you thinking about doing something else?”
Julie licked her lips. “I don’t know, Brody. I...am tired. I worked that Slasher case. It still haunts me at night.”
Dear God. The case where the women had been butchered, their reproductive organs cut out. “I can’t believe you saw that. It must have been horrible.”
“It was,” Julie admitted. “But no more horrible than some of the things I’ve seen humans do to children.”
Brody swallowed hard, her words making his fear rise.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered in a pained voice. “I’m supposed to be optimistic, professional, encourage you.”
“You have. I thought I’d never see Will again, but now I know he’s alive, and we won’t stop until he’s safe.” Brody squeezed her hand again and held it tightly against his thigh as he maneuvered the Jeep into the hospital parking lot. He had thrust her into this world of horrors and he was terrified of what he might hear from the kid they’d caught.
But this time he didn’t intend to drive Julie away. He needed her.
And he sensed she needed him, too.
* * *
JULIE FLASHED HER BADGE at the police officer outside Tray Goodner’s door. Apparently the doctor had removed the bullet and the injury wasn’t serious, but the thirteen-year-old was dehydrated and had bruises covering his body that garnered suspicion.
Unfortunately Julie knew where he had gotten them.
She tapped on the door, then she and Brody entered. The boy was sleeping, his body a small lump in the hospital bed. According to her information, Tray was eight when he disappeared, making him thirteen now. But he was so thin and haggard-looking that he looked around eleven or twelve. Dark bags shadowed his eyes, indicating he was probably malnourished.
An IV dripped fluids into his body and his right arm was bandaged. He looked dirty, his hair chopped off in uneven layers.
She glanced at Brody and saw the turmoil in his eyes. “You can wait outside if you want,” she whispered.
“Stop treating me like I can’t handle it,” he said gruffly. “This is the reason I started the BBL.”
* * *
“I’M SORRY,” Julie said in a low voice. “I didn’t mean it like that.” She simply wanted to protect him.
He squeezed her arm. “I know. Now let’s do this together.”
Julie crossed the room to the bed, hesitated beside it, then brushed the boy’s dirty blond hair back. She didn’t want to think about the horrible things that had happened to him.
“Tray?”
He slowly opened his eyes, blue eyes that looked frightened.
“Tray, my name is Julie. I work with the TBI.”
His thin lips pinched together.
“That is your name isn’t it? Tray?”
He shook his head. “RJ.”
Julie choked back her anger. “Okay, RJ. How are you feeling? Does your arm hurt?”
His eye twitched. “It’s no big deal.”
He’d probably had worse. “You’re going to be all right,” Julie said softly. “But you are in trouble, RJ.”
He cut his eyes away from her.
“RJ, I know that whoever you live with made you do this. We have you on camera with Kyle robbing those first stores.” She paused. “Kyle was in our custody for a while, but he disappeared tonight with Jeremy.”
RJ jerked his head back toward her, his eye twitching again, and Julie dragged a chair up beside his bed. “This man is Brody Bloodworth. He’s a rancher who owns a place called the BBL.”
RJ looked up at Brody who moved up beside her. “Hey there, RJ.”
Julie offered the kid a small smile. “I know you’re scared—”
“I’m not scared of anything,” RJ said quickly.
Julie gave a small nod. “All right, you’re a tough guy. But you’re also in a bad situation. I can help you though.”
“I don’t need no help.”
“Yes, you do,” Julie said matter-of-factly. “So I’m going to tell you everything we know, then let you fill in the blanks.”
RJ shrugged as if he knew he had no recourse.
“Brody is here because his little brother was kidnapped seven years ago. When we caught Kyle, we took his DNA and discovered he’s Brody’s little brother. We also believe that you were stolen from your family, RJ.” She paused, but noted his eye twitching faster. “We have software that shows age progression for missing children, and our program tells me that your real name is Tray Goodner.”
He twisted the sheets with his uninjured hand.
“Your mother reported you missing from a carnival.” She touched his hand. “Your mother is still alive and misses you very much, Tray. She’s been looking for you all these years and loves you.”
“That’s not true,” Tray hissed. “She sold me. That’s how Father got all of us. He saved us from the people who threw us away.”
Brody flinched beside her, and she let him speak. “That’s not true,” Brody said. “I love my brother and want him back. I know your mother feels the same way.”
Julie removed the photographs from her bag and held them up one by one. “Jeremy was the first boy we believe this man, your father, kidnapped. He started twenty years ago.”
Fear drew the muscles in RJ’s face. “Next came this boy, Carl Fanning, then Daryl Derwin, Anthony Putnam and after that Jeff Wickman.” She flashed the photo from when they were taken then the age progression sketch, watching for Tray’s reaction. He gripped the sheet tighter with each sk
etch she showed. “Next he took Phil Jasper, then Will Bloodworth, then five years ago, you joined his family.”
Anguish blended with fear in Tray’s eyes, and he made a small sound in his throat.
“Two years ago he added Lewis Renz, and just a few days ago, he took six-year-old Hank Forte.”
Tray’s face paled at the sight of Hank’s photograph.
“His parents have been all over the news begging people to help them find their son.”
“We know he beats you, abuses you,” Brody interjected. “Maybe he brainwashes you, and that little Hank is suffering now. He’s terrified and wants his mother and father just like you did five years ago.”
Julie showed him a picture of Hank’s parents. “These are the Fortes. They are devastated over their son’s disappearance, just like your mother was.” Then she removed another picture from her stash and held it up in front of him. “This is your mother, Tray. She loves you and has never given up looking for you. She wants you back just like Hank’s parents want him back.”
Emotions suddenly flooded Tray’s face. “He told us our parents sold us, that they didn’t want us.”
“He lied to you,” Julie said giving his hand another squeeze. “He told you those things to make you trust him, to make you depend on him. He wanted you to believe that so you wouldn’t try to escape.”
“He locked us up,” Tray admitted, his voice cracking. “He... If we didn’t obey he punished us. When Kyle got caught, he...beat all of us.”
Brody cleared his throat. “He’s a bad man,” he said in a gruff tone. “Tell us where to find him, and we can get all the boys back with their families.”
“How many boys live with your father now?” Julie asked.
Tray sniffled, wiping at his eyes with his uninjured hand. “Five.”
Five. But there were ten missing... “So he has Jeremy, Will, you and Hank?”
“I didn’t count Jeremy cause he...he helps him.”
Julie’s throat constricted. So she’d been right. “He helped lure Hank to your father?”
Tray gave a small wary nod. “And Renny.”
Julie narrowed her eyes then showed him the pictures. “Which one is Renny?”
His finger shook as he pointed to the photo of Lewis Renz.
“There’s one more,” Julie said. She laid out the photos. “Who else is with him?”
He pointed to the picture of Phil Jasper.
Brody released a pent up breath. “What happened to the others?”
Tray gripped the sheet into a knot and looked down, his body trembling. “He got rid of them.”
Julie clenched her hands into balls. “What do you mean?”
Tray closed his eyes. “They disappear,” he whispered in a haunted voice. “And they don’t come back.”
* * *
BRODY’S BLOOD TURNED to ice, his worst fears confirmed. This monster killed the boys who didn’t cooperate. Or he killed some of them just to make a point.
What would he do to Will when he went back? And why would Will go back if he knew that the man might kill him?
“Will’s going back to save the others, not because he’s loyal to this man,” Brody said, the truth dawning. “Is that right, Tray?”
Tray shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Is he protective of the others, or does he help this man you call Father kidnap other boys?”
Tray rubbed at the bandage on his arm. “He doesn’t help like Jeremy,” he said. “Kyle...I’ve seen him take a beating so the little ones don’t have to.”
Emotions flooded Brody. In spite of all he’d suffered himself, Will was strong and was trying to protect the others. Trying to save little Hank.
Julie gripped his hand as tension rippled through the air. “Tray, if you help us find Will and tell us where this man is holding the others, we can work out a deal for you.”
“I won’t go to jail?” Tray asked.
Brody released a pained breath as he waited on Julie’s reply. This kid didn’t belong in jail; he’d already spent years in prison.
“No, you won’t go to jail,” Julie said. “We’ll see that you’re reunited with your mother and receive the help you need to become a family with her again.”
She meant counseling but she had deftly avoided the word. All the boys would need it, including Will.
But first they had to find the monster who’d kidnapped them.
“Do you have a mother, a woman who lives at the house?” Julie asked.
Tray shook his head. “Just Father.”
“What is his name?” Brody asked.
Tray shrugged. “We just call him Father.”
“But he has a job, doesn’t he?” Julie asked. “You get bills? Have you ever seen his name on one of them?”
“No,” Tray said. “He locks everything in his room. We aren’t allowed in there.”
“Where do you live?” Brody asked. “A house? Farm?”
“It’s a compound,” Tray said. “Like a camp only with barbed wire and cells.”
“Cells?”
“Yeah, in the barn.” He tugged at his bandage. “And there’s a trailer where he goes sometimes.”
“A trailer?” Julie asked.
Tray nodded. “He smells when he comes back.”
Brody’s stomach revolted. “Smells like what?”
“I don’t know. Like smoke, some kind of chemicals maybe.”
“He might be cooking meth,” Julie guessed.
“How do we get there from here?” Brody asked.
“I...don’t know,” Tray said.
“But you left the place to go rob those stores,” Julie said.
Tray twisted the sheet again, fear darkening his eyes. “Father doesn’t let us go out on our own. He blindfolds us and drives us to the spot, then puts us out near the target store. When we’re done, we meet him down the street.”
Disgust filled Brody. So this monster threatened them, beat them, then blindfolded them so they couldn’t lead anyone back to him if they were caught?
How in the hell were they going to find out where he kept the boys if Tray couldn’t tell him? And what was happening to Will now?
If this monster thought Will had talked, would he kill him when he went back?
* * *
WILL FOUGHT THE instinct to run as Jeremy parked at the compound. Father had found a new place for them since he’d been caught.
This place had buildings made of concrete. The windows were boarded up.
There would be straps and chains inside just like the other place. Straps, chains and darkness.
An image of the BBL flashed through his head. There were beautiful pastures, stables, a creek, barns and a nice house. No barbed wire fences except to keep the cattle from wandering.
No boarded up windows. No chains in the bedroom. And a real kitchen where that nice Ms. Ellen cooked good-smelling pies and smiled at the kids when they came through the line to get food. They could get as much as they wanted, too. Then they told stories around a campfire and sang songs and went to bed on cots with real blankets and soft sheets.
But here there would only be the hard cold floor.
It was the way a soldier lived, Father told them.
And the pit—the pit made soldiers out of boys. Soldiers who knew how to survive if the enemy caught them.
His breath rattled in his chest. Brody didn’t treat the campers like soldiers though. He treated them like...he was their buddy.
Had Brody told him the truth? Would he help him if he escaped this compound? Would he help the others?
He had tried his best to remember how Jeremy had gotten here in case he had a chance to run.
But he couldn’t leave without the others. He’d never live with himself if they got killed because of him.
Jeremy opened the truck door, and Will opened his own, every muscle in his body tensing as they entered the compound. He didn’t see little Hank or Tray or the other two boys outside, but then Father rarely allowed
them out.
He prayed they weren’t all in the pit.
Jeremy nudged him through the gate, careful to lock it behind them, then Father stepped from the house.
His ice-cold eyes bore holes in Will, the leather strap he had slung over his shoulder slapping against his shoulder as he came to a stop in the dirt.
Brody’s words traipsed through his head. I love you, Will, I’ve never stopped looking for you. No one on my staff ever lays a hand to one of the campers.
He hoped Brody hadn’t lied. That he would keep looking for him.
But for now, Will had to be here, had to take whatever punishment Father doled out.
Unless Father decided to kill him.
Then Will would fight back. Because for the first time in years, he didn’t want to die.
Chapter Fourteen
Julie fought panic. Will and the others were in danger. They had to hurry. With everything Tray had admitted, this unsub might just kill Will and the others, then disappear.
Then he’d resurface somewhere else, and he would continue his sick business, stealing other children from their families.
“Tray, what else can you tell me about where you live? Were there any neighbors around?”
He shook his head.
“What about any landmarks? Do you remember anything distinct? Is the compound near a river? Creek?”
“I don’t know,” Tray said, “We aren’t allowed outside the fence.”
“How about school?” Brody asked. “Did any of you attend school?”
“No, Father said the teachers brainwash kids. That they wouldn’t understand our army.”
“Army?” Brody asked.
Tray nodded. “He said God wanted men to have an army of men.”
The unsub was obviously demented, maybe delusional.
“Tray, what kind of vehicle does your father drive when he takes you to rob the stores?” Julie asked.
Tray’s eyes looked heavy, exhaustion evident on his face. “I know you’re tired and you’ve been through a lot, Tray, but I need to ask you just a few more questions, then we’ll leave you and let you rest. Okay?”
He nodded, pulling at the bandage as if it was bothering him.
“Was it a car, a truck? An SUV?”