Texas Prey

by Barb Han

  “And say what? I saw a guy in the tree line? He didn’t break any laws being out there,” Brody said, a frustrated edge to his tone.

  “He knows where I live. God only knows how long he’s been out there spying on me.” A chill raced down her spine at the thought of him watching her through her windows. She wasn’t safe even in daylight now.

  Brody took a step toward her and put his hand on her shoulder.

  She turned to face him, ignoring the shivers his touch brought. Determination set his jaw, and the cloud forming behind his eyes said he wasn’t sure she would like what he had to say.

  “I don’t know if I can protect you here. We most likely scared him off and he may not return, but it’s a risk I’m not willing to take with you.”

  Those words sent an entirely different shiver down her body, a cold, icy blast that said everything she knew was about to be taken away from her again.

  “Meaning what?”

  “I need to take you someplace safe.”

  This bungalow might not be much, but it was her home. The thought of allowing that twisted jerk to force her out of her house churned in her stomach. He’d taken away so much already—from her, from her family. Part of her wanted to dig in her heels and argue because anything else felt as if she was sacrificing her power all over again. Except the logical part of her brain overrode emotion.

  Brody had military experience. She’d hired him to keep her safe. Not listening to his advice would be more than stupid—it could be deadly.

  His gaze stayed trained on her as she mentally debated her options. Options? What a joke that was.

  So, she wouldn’t be stupid. Of course, she’d go where she could be safe.

  “I’ll do whatever you need me to.” The words tasted sour. Putting herself in Brody’s hands wasn’t the issue.

  Relief relaxed the taut muscles in his face. “Good. Then, pack a bag and let’s get out of here.”

  “Can we search for him? Go after him for a change? Maybe even put him on the run?”

  “If that’s what you want.” His blue eyes darkened, the storm rising.

  “I know what you’re thinking. Yes, looking for him could be dangerous. I understand that and I need you to know I’m scared. But I’m also determined. He doesn’t get to take away my power again. Sitting around, waiting for him to strike makes me feel helpless.”

  “I’ll have your back. He has to get through me to touch you. And, darlin’, that isn’t happening on my watch.”

  Rebecca had sensed as much when they’d dated in high school. She’d gotten so used to being alone, to the isolation that came with being “damaged” and different. She’d quickly figured out where the term kid gloves came from. The sentiment might’ve been wrapped in compassion, but that didn’t change the message to a child.

  Well, she was no longer a child. And that psychopath didn’t get to make her afraid anymore. Sure, she’d had a moment before in the kitchen. There’d be more, too. And she refused to apologize for her moments of weakness.

  Being afraid was a good thing. It would make her cautious. It would keep her from making a stupid mistake that he could capitalize on. It would drive her to find him and possibly her brother, if Shane was still alive. Besides, being fearless had put her in this situation. She’d had no business sneaking out that night. Mason Ridge might’ve been the Texas equivalent of Mayberry, but complacency meant being vulnerable.

  “I just need a minute.” She moved to the bedroom and opened a suitcase, thinking about the few items she couldn’t live without. A sad note played in her heart. She had a few articles of clothing that had a special meaning, but that was about it. Shane’s Spider-Man watch, his favorite possession on the earth, was inside her drawer. She retrieved it and pressed it to her chest.

  She missed him.

  Still missed him.

  Everything good about childhood disappeared that hot night in late June. It was as though her mother and father had died along with the memory of Shane. Rebecca had no recollections of spring-break trips or campouts. Her parents had become obsessed with keeping her alive and in sight. Sleepovers stopped. There were no more séances or s’mores over a campfire, like there had been when Shane was alive.

  It was as though all the color had been stripped out of life. No more blue skies or green grass. No more laughter. She’d been so distraught with grief at the time she didn’t notice that while other kids gathered outside at the park for ball, she’d engaged in therapy with one of her many doctors.

  She’d existed, had been treated like fine china, put on a display shelf and only handled with the utmost care. She’d spent most of her time in her room because being downstairs with her parents while they fought that first year had been even more depressing. Books had given her an escape and kept her somewhat sane, somewhat connected to the world playing out in front of her, all around her and, yet, so far out of reach.

  When her parents had divorced, the rest of her fragile world shattered.

  The truth was that Rebecca couldn’t connect with anyone after losing Shane. Deep down, she didn’t blame her father for wanting to start a new life. He’d tried to include her, make her feel part of his new world. But that would’ve been a slap in the face to her mother. And Rebecca already felt as though her mother had suffered enough.

  She placed the watch gently inside her bag, then opened the next drawer and pulled out a few pairs of jeans, undergarments, and a variety of shirts, shoving them inside.

  Rebecca stomped to her closet and jerked a few sundresses off their hangers. After rolling them up, she stuffed them inside the bag, fighting the emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

  Toiletries from the bathroom were next on her mental checklist. She moved into the en suite and grabbed her makeup bag.

  A wave of nausea rolled through her. His voice. The apple-tobacco smell. Her brain had blocked everything else out. She couldn’t remember what he looked like other than a nebulous description.

  Not even her psychiatrist had been able to hypnotize that out of her. She wished like hell she would’ve been able to give the sheriff and the FBI more to go on. She was the only one who’d had a glimpse of him, the one who’d lived, and she couldn’t pick him out of a lineup if her life depended on it.

  And, now, it would seem that it did.

  Rebecca didn’t realize she was shaking, until Brody’s steady arms wrapped around her, stabilizing her. “I was just thinking that I could’ve stopped all this if I’d just remembered.”

  “It’s not your fault.” His warm breath rippled down the back of her neck.

  “I know, but—”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  Hadn’t she heard those four words strung together a thousand times via counselors, teachers, her parents? “It just feels like if I’d been able to describe him—”

  “Honey, there were grown men trained to track predators like him who couldn’t get the job done. Him getting away wasn’t the fault of a twelve-year-old girl.”

  On some level, she knew Brody was right. And, yet, guilt fisted her heart, anyway. He was being kind, so she’d spare him her true feelings. She tucked them away and forced a smile, ducking out of his hold.

  “Good point.” She moved to the bed, closed the suitcase and zipped it. “I’ve been thinking a lot about the old group. Think Ryan got ahold of them? All of us were out there that night. Maybe someone saw something they didn’t realize could be important.”

  “I’ve been thinking the same thing. Ryan’s working on getting everyone together. Dawson’s not far. Dylan moved a town over, so he won’t be hard to track down. We’ll have to ask around for James. I don’t know what happened to him after I left for the military. What about the girls? You talk to any of them?”

  “Other than exchanging Christmas cards with Lisa and Samantha? No. Janet still lives here but I can’t remember the last time we spoke and I don’t think she was out that night. Melanie moved to Houston and never comes back.”

 
“At least you have a few addresses. That’s more than I have to go on. Maybe the others will know once we get the ball rolling.” He paused. “I don’t remember seeing Melanie that night, either, or James for that matter but we should try to reach them, anyway.”

  Brody walked over and gripped the handle to her suitcase. “I can take you home with me, or we can go to a hotel. The choice is yours.”

  “We should be good at a hotel.” A neutral place might keep her thoughts away from how much Brody had grown into a man she could respect. She led the way through the house, stopping in the living room to grab her laptop. “Not sure when I’ll be back, so I better take this.”

  “I’m going to want to dig deeper into a few of the responses you received to your social-media messages.”

  “I almost forgot about the letters.”

  “You still have those?” Anger flashed in his blue eyes.

  “Turned most over to the sheriff, but some new ones have turned up recently.” She moved to the laundry room, where she’d been keeping the stack of mail.

  More anger flashed in Brody’s expression as she handed them over.

  “There must be fifty letters here.”

  “This time of year always brings out the crazy in people.” Arming the alarm, Rebecca had the feeling that once she walked outside she’d never be the same.

  She locked the door behind them, hoping she could remember something else about that day...anything that might make the nightmare stop.

  Chapter Four

  Brody shouldn’t want to show Rebecca his ranch, shouldn’t want her to be proud of him. Hell, he’d already had her in his arms twice and he couldn’t deny just how much it felt as if she belonged there, especially with the way her warm body molded to his. She’d asked to go to a hotel instead and his chest had deflated a little. The facts still remained the same. She’d rejected him and stomped on his heart before and she’d do it again. She wasn’t cruel, just scared and confused. And it was all too easy for Brody to slip into his old role of being her shoulder to cry on, her friend. She’d confused those feelings for something else when they were young and she was doing it now. That was the only reason she’d go down that path again. How stupid was he not to figure it out before? Then again, Rebecca Hughes was his kryptonite. He reminded himself of the real reason she was there in the first place. She’d asked for his help.

  All he was doing was helping Rebecca get her life back.

  He owed her that.

  Or maybe he owed it to himself. If he got her squared away, he could put the past behind him and move on. He could stop thinking about those hauntingly beautiful eyes, the fear he saw behind them, the frustration he felt when he couldn’t take it away.

  “Got a different idea of where we can hang out the next few days instead of a hotel.”

  “Oh, yeah. Where are we headed?”

  “How do you feel about camping?” He stole a glance at her as he pulled out of the drive, needing to see the look on her face. She might’ve been born in the country, but Rebecca Hughes didn’t sleep outside.

  Based on the look she shot him, his attempt at humor had only made things worse.

  “Is that your idea of a joke?” She tapped his arm.

  “Yes. It is.” Something needed to break the tension. Get the conversation on a lighter track. It looked as if her muscles were strung so tight she might snap.

  “Well, it’s not funny.” Her face screwed up. And she finally smiled, too.

  “Sorry about the joke. But your reaction made me laugh. And I needed that.”

  “Okay, funny man. Where are we really going?” There was something special about the curve to her lips, the way her eyes flashed toward him looking so alive. The few times he’d broken through to her in high school were some of his happiest moments. And how sad did that make him sound? Then again, after his mother had ripped off the town and disappeared, life had become dark and complicated for him and his father.

  “How do you feel about a serious change in plans? Hanging out in a cabin in Texoma for a few days until we sort all this out instead of a hotel? No roughing it. The place will have all the modern luxuries.”

  She was shaking her head from the second she heard “Texoma.”

  “It’s too far. By the time we drive out there and back, we’ll lose four hours. No way.” Her body had started shaking again, all hint of playfulness gone from her expression. He wondered if she even realized she was doing it.

  “You sure you don’t want to get away? I mean really get away?”

  “I can’t. I don’t want to be that far from my mother. I need to call work, too. In fact, I should do that right now.” She made a quick call and then dropped her phone in her purse. “I could always stay with my mother.”

  “That’s not a good idea. Unless you want to tell her what’s going on.”

  “No. You’re right. It’s bad enough that I skipped our visit this morning. That won’t work. I’d rather keep her out of this as much as possible.”

  “I figured that’s what you’d say.”

  “She needs me here. Can we get another place? Something closer?”

  Brody stopped at the four-way stop sign at the end of her block. “My ranch is the perfect place.”

  “You bought the old Wakefield place, didn’t you?”

  “It’s less than twenty minutes from here and it’ll make it easier for me to check on the horses. If you really don’t want to go there, my dad’s house is another option.”

  “It would be nice to see him again. I’d like to stay at your place, though, if we can’t stay at a hotel.”

  “It might be best if we don’t leave a credit-card trail.” He turned the steering wheel right. Pride he had no right to feel tugged at his heart. He needed to remember to keep a safe distance from the emotion. Nothing good could happen from touching a fire twice. “Let’s swing by and get you settled before heading out to search for this guy.”

  “That’s a better plan.”

  “Can I ask a question, though?”

  “Okay.” Her tone was tentative.

  “Why didn’t you take your father’s call earlier? You two still at odds?”

  “I’m not sure ‘at odds’ is the best way to describe our relationship. We don’t really have one.”

  “Why is that, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “I know.” He kept his gaze on the road ahead. “I realize why you kept your distance before...how screwed up your mom was. I’m sure you felt conflicted. Love him and it betrays her. I get it. But, why now? Your mom’s sick. You’re doing all this alone and you don’t have to.”

  “She’s not his problem anymore.”

  “He said that?”

  “No. Not in so many words. But he walked out. Divorced us.”

  “Her. He divorced her. There’s a big difference.”

  “Same thing.”

  “Is it?” He shrugged. “I see Dylan with Maribel and just because he’s not together with her mom doesn’t mean he loves that little girl any less.”

  “Dylan has a daughter?” She couldn’t contain her shock.

  “Long story, but yeah. He’s a great dad, too.”

  “He’s the last person I’d expect to have a family. Especially after what happened to him with his own parents. Didn’t we vote him most likely to become a career criminal?”

  “What can I say? The guy cleaned up his act. He’d do anything for Maribel. He’s a changed man.”

  Brody’s phone vibrated again, another text. “Can you check that for me?”

  Rebecca picked it up from the seat and checked the screen, staring for a long moment.

  “It’s from Ryan. He spoke to Lisa and she said one of her cousins was in Woodrain Park when a strange-looking guy ran past. He fit the basic description of our guy.” Her voice cracked on the last few words.

  Brody gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles went white. He ground his back teeth. “Looks like we have
a place to start our search.”

  * * *

  “SOMETHING’S BEEN BOTHERING me about this whole scenario.” Brody finally broke the silence. “You asked the question before and it’s the same one that’s been on my mind. Why now? What’s so significant about today?”

  “I keep racking my brain, too. I always go back to the fact that it’s the fifteenth anniversary.”

  “Yeah, but what’s so important about this one? Why not the fifth, or the tenth?”

  Good question. “Could it be the extra newspaper coverage we’re getting this year?”

  “It’s possible. They run stories every year, right?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Makes me think there was some kind of trigger that we haven’t figured out yet.”

  “That makes sense. But what? I haven’t done anything differently. I’ve been here working, taking care of my mother. My routine hasn’t changed.” Her life sounded depressing when she spoke about it out loud. It was true, though. Her entire world had been about existing and nothing more for more years than she could remember. Maybe didn’t want to, either.

  “You moved back a few years ago, so that’s not it.” He tapped the steering wheel with his thumb. “Any new friends?”

  “I don’t have time.” She glanced down at her feet when she said it. Was that true? Or had she simply not made time?

  “What about those letters? Anything stand out?”

  “No. I get the same stuff every year,” she said on a sigh.

  “Any new employees at work?”

  “We have a summer intern who started last month.”

  “Male or female?” His tone deepened a fraction, but she noticed it. He was onto something.

  “Male. What are you getting at?”

  “Who is it?” Brody’s gaze stayed fixed on the road ahead.

  “Alex Sweeny. Why?”

  “How tall is he?”

  “Six feet, I guess.” Surely Brody wasn’t saying what she thought. That Alex was somehow involved. She was already shaking her head. “He’s way too young to be the guy we’re looking for. Plus, he’s related to the sheriff.”