by Barb Han
Brody had every intention of burying the bastard.
Time had come to get back to the basics in this case. He opened the laptop and then the file, studying it again as she drove toward Apple Orchard Care Facility, where her mother lived. The suspect list seemed never-ending. If he searched long enough, there had to be a connection somewhere. He’d been looking for an association to the town or the family. Maybe he needed to look harder for a link within their group of friends. Maybe Justin’s friends.
“It’s okay, you know,” Rebecca finally said. “I’m not going to fall apart like my mother.”
No. Rebecca was a survivor. Even after all these years, she kept her chin up, kept searching. “I know.”
She stopped at a red light. “Why did you call the guys? I mean I know what you said, but there’s more to it, isn’t there?”
“I’m interested to see if anyone remembers anything.”
“It was a long time ago, Brody. I doubt anyone besides me even thinks about it anymore.”
The light changed and she pressed the gas.
There’s where she was wrong. How could Brody forget? How could anyone forget who was there that night or in that town? He already knew Ryan had thought about it, as did Dylan and Dawson. That night was etched into everyone’s memories.
Brody had called a secret meeting after Shane had disappeared. Rebecca couldn’t be there, of course. But everyone else had shown. Parents had strictly forbidden kids to leave the house, so Samantha, Lisa and Melanie had arranged to be together, watched by Samantha’s older brother. Every available adult was out on a search team, scouring fields and abandoned buildings. No one wanted to leave their children unattended after the incident. Brody’s father had allowed him to join the search, so he hadn’t needed an excuse to be out. Brody and the guys had sneaked inside Samantha’s first-floor bedroom window, risking everything to meet.
None of their friends had admitted to seeing anything. Afraid of being busted, everyone had scattered. But had they been lying? Surely they’d seen something. Maybe if they talked it through again, as adults, a detail would pop.
Brody figured the real reason Rebecca couldn’t let this go was because she’d yelled at Shane when the game broke up, humiliating him, so he ran to get away from her. The weight she carried was so much more than letting him down because she’d always watched over her little brother. At first, she’d told him to sit by a tree and wait. He didn’t listen. She’d embarrassed him in front of her friends, telling him he had no business following her. Teary eyed, he’d broken into a full run, little athlete that he’d been. Even then, he’d been fast as a whip. And she’d completely underestimated him. By the time she’d apologized to everyone for her little brother ruining their mission, he was gone.
The bullet that was Shane had already disappeared out of view. Rebecca had told Brody that she wasn’t worried about losing sight of her brother. He’d head home. Where else would he go?
A noise had spooked the rest of the group. The game had been a bad idea that night. There were too many people out after dark because of the festival. Afraid of getting busted, they’d scattered in different directions.
Brody had offered to help find Shane. Rebecca had said she’d be fine. A few minutes later, alone, she’d heard a muffled cry.
The rest was history.
And Brody felt responsibility, too. What if he’d insisted on helping her search? Would he have made a difference? Surely, the kidnapper wouldn’t have been able to subdue three kids. Even at twelve, Brody had been substantial. He might have been the tipping point they’d needed. How many times had he asked himself that question?
It still didn’t matter. Brody hadn’t gone. Shane had been kidnapped. History couldn’t be revised.
At twelve, Rebecca had been a tower of strength.
Even now, she dug her heels in and went full force chasing a lead rather than roll over. She threw herself into the investigation even if it meant shutting out everything else around her. But then, she’d been good at that before, too.
With her mother gravely ill, Brody wondered who Rebecca would have left after her mom was gone. Her father? They weren’t close anymore. Was that part of why she’d clung to the idea that Shane could be alive? Fear of being alone?
Where did that leave Rebecca?
Brody wanted to be there for her, to see her through this now in a way he couldn’t before. He hated the thought that she felt alone again, fighting for the life of someone in her family. She didn’t need advice or someone to tell her what was best for her. He’d be there if she needed him, if she let him.
Watching her pain nearly killed him, but he knew the only way to put the past behind her was for him to be strong and, better yet, bring justice.
“Did you call your father back?”
“I’ve been with you every minute.”
“I thought maybe you’d returned his call at the hospital when I was out.”
“No. Not yet. I will, though.” Her voice was unsteady, as if she was still trying to decide.
“When?”
“Soon.”
“Why not now?”
“Can I ask you a question?” Rebecca’s voice was far less frail and afraid than it had been earlier. He sensed that she was gaining her strength. She might’ve been shell-shocked, but she wasn’t broken. Not even the Mason Ridge Abductor could take that away from her.
Too many places inside him needed Rebecca to be okay.
“Yeah. Sure.”
“What happened with your mother? I mean, I’ve heard the rumors about her convincing the town to invest in a lakefront resort and then disappearing with the money. That true?”
“Yes.”
“Does it still bother you?”
“No.” Brody had hoped this one time that she couldn’t read his mind. They’d shared a mental connection in high school that had him wondering if dating her had been a good idea. He wasn’t sure he wanted someone to understand the pain he was in. He was a kid, and he’d been feeling sorry for himself.
“Are you in contact with her?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Other than the fact that she hasn’t tried to get in contact with me once since she left? I don’t have anything to say to her.”
“That all? You can be honest with me, Brody. I won’t tell anyone. Not like I have a bunch of people to tell, anyway...” Her words trailed off at the end and he could tell she tried to come off as unaffected by the truth in those words. “It’s more than that, isn’t it? You value family.”
Did he? He’d spent his teen years bitter about his mother’s actions, his father’s lack thereof. “I value loyalty more.”
“That, too. But you never talk about her. I mean, you must feel something. Like with my dad, I was angry with him for starting another family. Especially since this one felt so...unfinished.”
“Have you forgiven him? Moved on?”
“I guess not. But I am trying.”
“Really? How so? By not answering his calls?” He glanced at her in time to see regret darken her features. Damn. He didn’t expect her reaction to hit him so hard.
“I deserve that.” Chin up, she seemed ready for another punch.
“That wasn’t fair of me—”
“Yes, it was. I’m the one who brought up the subject. I shouldn’t dish it out if I can’t take it, right?”
“I still didn’t mean it.”
“Don’t worry. I get it. You’re doing the same thing I do. Push those feelings down so deep that no one can touch them. They’re buried. They can’t hurt you. But, lately, I’ve been wondering if that’s the right thing to do.”
“Meaning you want to call your father.” Was she right? Brody had done his level best to forget the feelings existed.
“For one. I mean, part of me wants to talk to him. The rest thinks it’s too late to start our relationship now.”
“He wouldn’t try to get in touch if he didn’t want to spend time with
you. My situation’s different. My mom took off and that was it. I never heard from her again. No birthday cards. No surprise high school graduation visit. She hasn’t tried to get in touch once. And it’s bad enough she stole from the town, but look what she did to my father. He never stopped waiting for her to come back, never got over her. She had to know how much he loved her, I loved her. And not one word in more years than I can count. Not exactly a person worth tracking down.” Anger had those last words biting out. He never talked about his mother, not to anyone. He’d convinced himself that he no longer cared about her or the way she’d treated his father. Was that true? The venom he felt surging through him said otherwise. Was it good to dredge up the past?
“You’re right. You’re completely right. Our situations are totally different. But our way of dealing with them is pretty much the same.” She hesitated. “I’m glad you talked about it. You never used to.”
“Like I said, wasn’t much to say before.”
“And now?”
“Talking to you is different. We have history.” It was more than that, but no way would he allow himself to dwell on that emotion. He didn’t need to know how deep his feelings ran for Rebecca. The bottom line was that she’d shut him out just as his mother had. And Brody was nothing like his father. Brody wouldn’t sit around licking his wounds, waiting for a woman who could so easily walk away from him to return.
He shoved those thoughts aside as Rebecca pulled into a parking spot and cut the engine. “I’ll stick around out here and keep digging in these files while you go inside.”
She lightly touched his hand, and even that little bit of contact sent sparks flying. Another reminder it was a bad idea to get too close to her this time around. Sparks ignited flames. Unchecked, flames developed into full-blown fires. A raging fire destroyed everything in its path. Just like his mother had. And his father had simply stood in its way and gotten burned.
But Rebecca’s situation with her father couldn’t be more different. “It’s okay to love your father, you know.”
“I do now. But by the time I realized it, his calls had slowed and it just seemed easier to leave things alone. Sleeping dog and all that. Now I’m thinking maybe I just took the coward’s way out.”
“You? Not a chance.” Brody shook his head. He brushed against her right cheek with the backs of the fingers on his left hand. “You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever known.”
She smiled, warming him, warning him that getting too close to fire would engulf him just like it had his father. Brody wasn’t objective when it came to Rebecca. And that was dangerous.
“I’m sorry about your family, Brody.” Her look was all compassion and sympathy, creating an intimacy between them he didn’t want to acknowledge, and it stirred something in his chest he had no desire to think about.
“I guess there’s no chance I can convince you to come inside with me.”
The others hadn’t arrived yet. Brody texted them to say that he had. A second later, he got a message that the guys would be running late. Dylan had to swing by and check on Maribel who wasn’t feeling well. “I doubt your mother wants to see me.”
“You might be surprised.” She unbuckled her seat belt and reached for the handle. “Why not see for yourself.”
“Hold on a sec.” Hopping out of the truck, his knee giving in the process, he steadied himself and rounded the front end, determined to open the door for her. Part of him wanted to be there for Rebecca, to hold her hand through it all, but the other part—the logical one—said going inside with her was a bad idea since he didn’t want to upset her mother with his presence. Then again, the thought of Rebecca going anywhere alone didn’t sit well, either.
Rebecca held out her hand.
Brody took it, ignoring how well hers fit.
“I know you’re supposed to meet the guys out here, but will you go in for a minute?” she asked.
If she hadn’t asked, he sure as hell wouldn’t have volunteered. She had. Against his better judgment, he nodded.
She smiled and that annoying part of his heart stirred again. Sure didn’t take much to get that going. Way to be strong, Fields.
But he was expert at swallowing his true feelings. Rebecca was no exception. Pretending he hadn’t just told himself a big fat lie, he held out his arm for her.
The next touch, her hand to his forearm, was so light it barely registered. The electricity it sent up his arm was another story altogether. Frissons swirled up his arm, lighting a path straight to his chest. And he suppressed the thought that no other woman had that effect on him, chalking it up to unrequited love. Because if her feelings had run a fraction of his, then she wouldn’t have been able to walk away all those years ago, would she? Unlike his father, Brody had no intention of being the fool twice. Between her and his mother, he was beginning to feel destined to associate with women who had no problem walking away from him. Wouldn’t Freud have a field day with that one?
The facility was small and well kept. Purple and pink flowers lined the path to the front door of the two-story brick building. A large pot of flowers flanked each side of the oak door and white rocking chairs lined the oversize porch.
“You’re sure this is a good idea? Me going inside?” Rebecca’s mother had made her feelings toward Brody clear years ago, saying he wasn’t good enough for her daughter. The fact that his mother later stole from the town hadn’t improved his standing with Mrs. Hughes, even though he’d had nothing to do with it. Still, he didn’t imagine her feelings had changed.
“I want you there.”
“With her condition, I don’t want to make things worse.”
“It won’t. She’s changed a lot. For so many years she was afraid something else would happen to me. She didn’t want me to leave the house for fear I wouldn’t walk back in the door. Her feelings toward you back then had little to do with you and so much to do with everything else she was dealing with.” Rebecca paused, stopping a few steps in front of the door. “Besides, she asks about you.”
Well, didn’t that last comment stop him in his tracks? “Me?”
The shy smile returned. “Yep. I know she wasn’t nice to you back then, but if you could forgive her. I know it would mean the world to her.”
“Already done. I don’t have kids of my own, but I can only imagine what that’s like after seeing Dylan with Maribel. Hell, I’d give my life for that little girl and she’s not even mine. I understand where your mom is coming from.”
Rebecca didn’t immediately start walking again. Instead, she turned to Brody. The equivalent of a thunderstorm brewed behind her eyes. “I think she held on for so many years to the hope my brother would come back alive. Now, she’s suffering. Her body wants to go, but she can’t. I think it’s because she never found closure. A little piece of her half expects him to come walking through the door at any moment.”
“Because they never found out what happened to him?”
She nodded. “Mom’s just this shell of a person, hanging on. And I know it sounds awful, but I just wish she could find peace. I wish she could let go. She’s so tired. Her mind is going. Sometimes she talks about him like he’s still here. Yet, she hangs on.”
The reason Rebecca wanted Brody with her made a little more sense now. Based on the anguish on her face, she was barely holding on, too. If she needed him to be strong for her, to get through this, he could do that. For her. For him. As a tribute to their past.
Without thinking much about it, he hauled her against his chest. She buried her face as he dipped his head and whispered in her ear. “It’s okay. I’m here. Nothing else bad is going to happen.”
She gave in to the moment, softening her body against his. And Brody couldn’t help but notice for the second time how well they fit. This close, he could feel her heartbeat increasing and the smell of her shampoo, that same mix of citrus and flowers, engulfed his senses.
There was nothing more or less that he could do then except cup her cheeks in his ha
nds and guide her lips to his. Kissing her felt like home. Light at first, deepened when she opened her mouth for him and slid her tongue inside. Her fingers tunneled into his hair as the urgency of the kiss amplified.
Brody’s logical mind said she was seeking temporary shelter in a storm. As soon as this blew over, they’d be right back where they started.
With great effort, he pulled back first. “We’d better head down the hall. Since the guys are running late, I might just tell them to meet us at the restaurant in a little while.”
Too quickly, her composure returned, her body stiffened. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I probably enjoyed that more than you did.”
“I doubt it. And that’s not where we need to be right now.”
Didn’t that confuse him till the cows came home? It had to be a strain to hold so much weight on her shoulders. “You know we’re going to figure this out, right? You don’t have to do this alone. I’m here. The guys are helping. Law enforcement’s involved. He’s not going to get away with this.”
“I have to find him before he gets to me again, Brody.”
A foreboding feeling tugged at him. “I know.”
Chapter Seven
Rebecca clasped her hand around Brody’s as they turned toward her mother’s wing. Warmth spread through her from the contact and she didn’t fight it. Instead, she relaxed into it, letting it drift through her, calming her, grateful to have Brody’s support even if that’s where the connection between them had to end—at friendship.
As they rounded the corner to her mother’s hallway, she saw a couple hovering. A man she immediately recognized as the reporter who’d hassled her at her car stood behind them, looking down. Was that jerk trying to hide?
Rebecca squeezed Brody’s hand.
He glanced at her, must’ve seen the shock on her face and tucked her behind him.
The couple looked at Rebecca in unison, their faces pale and desperate. Their gazes were intent as the woman rushed toward Rebecca.