by Diana Palmer
Brody’s chest was about to explode with fear. “No, Julie, let me. If this is Will, maybe he’ll recognize my voice.”
Julie’s hand brushed over the weapon strapped in her holster. “And if it’s not?”
Brody gave her a pleading look. “I know what I’m doing, Julie. I work with scared kids, teenagers that have been in trouble with the law, on the BBL everyday. Let me give it a shot.”
Julie slanted him a warning look. “Don’t take any chances, Brody. Just talk.” She poked him in the chest, her voice edged with worry. “Even if he is Will, we don’t know his state of mind or what drove him to this point. What we do know is that he’s desperate, scared and armed.”
Brody drew a deep breath. He knew all that, but he didn’t care.
Besides, if he didn’t do something, these cops might get cocky or spooked and open fire or swarm the place.
Then his little brother might get killed.
And he would take a bullet himself before he allowed that to happen.
CHAPTER FIVE
Brody watched the police and agents huddle, with a sickening knot in his stomach. They had cordoned off the area, and stationed cars to keep anyone else from pulling into the parking lot. Another team had gone in search of the second boy who’d run from the scene.
It also looked as if the TBI agent, Hurt, was having a heated discussion with the officer in charge about how to handle the situation and who should take the lead.
Chief Hurt must have won because he grabbed the bullhorn. “Order all your men to stand down,” he said. “No one fires unless I give the word.”
“Yes, sir,” the officer growled.
“You’re surrounded by the police,” Chief Hurt said into a bullhorn. “We know your name is Kyle and that you’re in a bad spot. You just wanted some money tonight, not to hurt anyone.”
Brody strained to see inside the convenience store. There were two figures near the door, the boy and the girl.
“Get out of here,” Kyle yelled. “Let me go and the girl won’t get hurt.”
Brody saw the girl’s terrified expression and heard the desperation in Kyle’s voice. He tried to remember the sound of Will’s voice to compare it to the young man, but Will hadn’t even reached adolescence when he’d disappeared. His voice would have changed, grown deeper, more manly.
“You’re not leaving here,” Chief Hurt said. “That’s a given. So release the girl, and we can make some kind of deal.”
“I can’t go to jail,” Kyle shouted. “I can’t.”
The two officers on the end looked restless. “It’s time for SWAT,” one of them muttered.
“I can try to go in the back door,” the other officer suggested.
Chief Hurt glared at them. “No. We can’t risk a hostage being injured.”
Brody sensed the situation spiraling out of control. A news van rolled up, a cameraman and reporter climbing out.
“This is Wanda Thorn coming to you live. We’re at the scene of a hostage situation.”
“Make that camera disappear,” Kyle yelled.
Julie motioned toward Chief Hurt. “I’ll handle it.” She headed over to talk to the reporter, then Brody strode toward the agent. If he left it up to them, they’d storm in and kill his brother. Rather, Kyle.
He had to do something.
“Let me talk to him.”
Chief Hurt glanced at him with narrowed eyes then gave a clipped nod, and Brody grabbed the bullhorn.
“Will, I know you haven’t seen me in a long time, but it’s me, Brody, your brother.”
He hesitated, hoping for a response. Someone moved inside, then the two figures appeared at the front door. The glass was foggy though, and he could only make out part of the boy’s head behind the girl.
“Please help me,” she cried.
“Will, please,” Brody said. “You don’t want to hurt that girl. Just put down the gun.”
“My name is not Will,” the boy yelled. “Now get out of here so I can leave, and the girl will be fine.”
Chief Hurt shot him a concerned look. “Like we said, he may not remember you.”
“Okay, Kyle,” Brody said. “I’m sorry, I was confused. I lost my brother a long time ago. He was kidnapped when he was ten, and I’ve been looking for him ever since.”
“Well, I’m not your brother,” Kyle shouted.
“All right, it’s just that you remind me of him.” Julie slipped up behind him, and squeezed his arm. “He was a good kid, and I’m sure you are, too,” Brody continued. “But you’re in a bad spot right now. Listen, I know this agent here, Julie Whitehead. She’ll give you a fair shake if you cooperate.”
“Then tell her to clear out the damn cops.”
“I’m trying to get them to back down,” Brody said. “And they have orders not to shoot. But you have to let the girl go, Kyle. If you hurt her, I won’t be able to help you.”
The officers shifted, one moving his gun so it was trained on the door. Nerves clawed at Brody. He lowered his voice to a soft murmur so only Julie could hear, “Julie, that cop looks trigger-happy.”
Julie motioned toward ChiefHurt, and he spoke in a low voice into the mike to the officer, hopefully warning him to back down.
Then Brody had an idea. He’d worked with troubled kids long enough to know that this boy was scared. He’d been backed into a corner, and he didn’t know what to do or how to get out of the situation.
Brody had to offer him a way out.
“I’m coming in,” he said, slowly starting toward the store. “Send the girl out and you can take me as a hostage instead.”
“Brody, stop.” Julie caught his arm, but he shook off her concern.
“I have to do something,” Brody said. “I can’t let them hurt Will.”
Julie hissed a protest as he strode forward. “Kyle, did you hear me?”
“Stay back,” Kyle shouted.
“I’m not going to do that,” Brody said. “I won’t leave you here like this. I’m coming in so we can solve this problem together.”
“How do I know you don’t have a gun?” Kyle asked.
Brody shrugged out of his jacket, then patted himself, turning around in a circle to give the teenager a clear view. “See, no gun. I just don’t want to see you or the girl hurt.”
Tension thrummed through the air as he took another step closer. He felt Julie’s eyes on him, the other cops bracing for gunfire, but he didn’t stop.
Maybe this teenager wasn’t Will. But he needed help, and Brody didn’t intend to turn back now. “Open the door,” he said as he approached it. “Send her out and I’m all yours.”
The door squeaked open, the girl’s tear-streaked eyes meeting his.
“Come on,” he said as he motioned her forward. “I’m yours, Kyle, just let her walk away.”
The girl suddenly stumbled forward, and Brody grabbed her arm and pulled her behind him. A second later, her footsteps pounded behind him, but he kept his gaze fixed on the boy. In his peripheral vision, he saw Chief Hurt rush forward, grab the girl and pull her to safety. The camera flashed, the reporter speaking into the mike.
“The female hostage has just been released, but this is not over yet, folks.”
Brody’s heart raced as he struggled for a way to reach the boy. He searched for his brother somewhere in the kid. Kyle had brown eyes like Will, that cleft in his chin. This boy had scars though, one above his eye, more on his arms.
He gritted his teeth. How many bruises and scars were hidden? And who had put the injuries there?
“Just stay calm,” he said in a low voice. “I run a ranch for kids near here,” Brody said. “I think you’d like it. Do you know how to ride?”
Sweat beaded on the boy’s face, his eyes darting toward the cops in a panicked haze. “The only thing I want to do is ride out of here.”
Kyle raised his gun and aimed it at him, then motioned for him to turn around. “You have a car here?”
“Yes.” He’d use Julie’s ca
r if he needed to.
“Let’s go.”
“Sure thing,” Brody said.
He turned and allowed Kyle to use him as a shield as he started toward the sedan.
But Chief Hurt stepped from behind his dark sedan. “Hold it right there.”
Julie inched toward them. “Kyle, let me help you,” Julie said gently. “We’ll work out some kind of deal.”
“I told you I’m not going to jail.” Kyle pressed the gun into Brody’s back, and Brody tensed.
A second later, the sound of a gun being cocked split the air, then a shot rang out.
Brody jerked around to push Kyle out of the way. At the same time, Julie rushed forward, throwing herself between the shooter and him. The bullet whizzed by her head, then she hit the dirt.
Brody’s heart stalled in his chest. Dear God, had Julie been shot?
*
JULIE ROLLED IN the dirt, braced to shoot the stupid cop who’d opened fire. But everything happened too fast. Chief Hurt and the other officer both dove at Kyle and Brody. Brody spun around and tried to block them from reaching Kyle, but Hurt was too fast and knocked the gun from the boy’s hand while the officer aimed his weapon at the boy’s head.
“Move and it’s all over,” the officer growled.
“Dammit,” Brody snarled. “Don’t shoot him, he’s just a kid.”
“Hold your fire,” Chief Hurt said to the officer. Then he snapped handcuffs on Kyle.
The boy spat a belligerent string of words at Hurt, jerking in protest as the agent grabbed his arm.
“Keep calm,” Brody said, holding out a hand toward Kyle. “We’ll figure this out together, I promise you’re not alone.”
Chief Hurt shoved Kyle toward his car, and Julie pushed up from the ground, swiping the dirt off her clothes. She rushed toward Brody. She had to make sure he was okay.
But when she touched his arm to comfort him, Brody stormed at her. “What the hell were you doing?”
Julie gasped at the vehemence in his tone. “I was trying to save your sorry butt,” she hissed.
He took her arm, then ran his eyes over her from head to toe. “You almost got yourself shot.”
“I was just doing my job,” she said, anger mounting. For God’s sake, she’d had to battle enough male prejudice to earn her ranking as an agent. She hadn’t expected it from Brody.
Brody’s erratic breathing echoed in the air as he tilted her face up toward him. “Are you hurt?”
His trembling voice touched emotions deep inside her, and she realized he was reacting more out of fear than male prejudice.
Still, she couldn’t cut him any slack. Especially here in front of her superior.
“I’m fine, Brody. I was trying to make sure the boy wasn’t hurt.”
His gaze latched onto hers for a long moment, the fear and pain in his expression wrenching her heart. He started to speak, but the commotion around them suddenly went crazy as the reporter raced toward Kyle and the cameraman flashed more pictures.
Julie pulled away from Brody and strode toward the woman. “That’s enough.”
The woman simply beamed at her. “You’re with the TBI, aren’t you, ma’am? Would you give us a statement?”
Julie frowned at her, then cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, but we can’t comment on the arrest at this moment due to an ongoing investigation. Thank you.”
Chief Hurt stood beside Kyle at his car. The blue lights twirled in the darkness, the other officers who’d gathered mumbling and working to control the spectators.
Julie hadn’t realized how much the crowd had grown.
Then her gaze caught Kyle’s face in the twirling lights. The bruises on the boy looked stark, some old, some fresh. Kyle deftly turned his head away from the cameras to avoid being photographed.
Had his kidnapper seen his photo on screen before? Had that triggered the beating that left those marks?
Was the bastard watching now?
*
BRODY HATED THE FEAR that had nearly choked him when Julie had hit the dirt. He’d also been terrified that Will—Kyle—would get shot, and he’d had to protect him.
Even if it turned out Kyle wasn’t Will, the teenager needed help. The bruises on his face and arms indicated he’d been severely abused.
The question was—who was abusing him? And would the boy give up his or her name?
He’d worked with enough troubled kids to know that ratting out their abuser was difficult. Both fear and the desperate need for love from the very person mistreating them drove the victim to keep silent.
“They’re going to take Kyle to booking at the local police station,” Julie said. “Chief Hurt and I will question him there.”
“You know he’s being beaten,” Brody said in a strained voice.
Julie’s expression turned grim. “Yeah, I saw the bruises.” She tucked her weapon back in her holster, and he frowned. He didn’t want her working this job, putting her life on the line.
“I assume you want to be there,” Julie said, cutting her gaze toward Chief Hurt’s sedan as he started it up.
Brody’s heart hammered as he caught sight of the boy. Kyle was slumped over in the backseat, hiding his face from the cameras and spectators.
“Yes, let’s go.” The reporter suddenly made a beeline for him, but he and Julie jogged to her car and jumped inside, dodging her attack.
Brody tried to wrangle his emotions under control as Julie drove, but the scene with the police and the boy and Julie kept tormenting him. He wanted to tell Julie to quit her job.
But he had no right.
After all, hadn’t he driven her to it by his cruel accusations after Will went missing?
God, he had to fix things with her, to apologize.
“Just so you know what’s going to happen,” Julie said, cutting off his thoughts. “He will be booked for armed robbery, and endangering another life. At his age, the DA can push for him to be tried as an adult.”
Brody pulled a hand down his chin. “What about the fact that he’s being abused? That he may be my brother, may have been kidnapped and forced to rob that store?”
Julie reached out and laid a hand over his. “Don’t worry, Brody. I’ll find out who he really is and what’s going on with him. And if he is Will and has been forced to steal, the court will hear that, too.”
Brody relaxed slightly, his hand aching to curl into Julie’s and latch onto her. She was so strong and gutsy that it made him realize how much she’d changed.
That she’d toughened up since he’d last known her.
Of course she’d had to in order to do her job.
“Thank you,” Brody said. “I…even if he isn’t Will, I want to help him.”
Julie glanced at him as she followed the squad car and Chief Hurt toward the jail. “You’re a good man, Brody. I admire what you’ve done at the BBL.”
His throat ached, the old feelings he’d had for her burning in his chest.
“I guess we’ve both tried to help other kids to make up for what happened to Will.”
She tensed, but he gripped her hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry, Julie. I…was wrong to blame you back then.”
“No, you were right,” she said, self-derision lacing her voice as she cast her eyes back on the road. “If I hadn’t begged you to go to the barn with me that day, you would have been with Will and he never would have disappeared.”
“That’s probably true,” Brody said. “But it wasn’t your fault. I wanted to go to the barn with you,” he admitted. “Hell, that’s all I’d thought about for days. Weeks even.” His voice cracked. “As much as I hate to admit it, I was tired of always watching out for him.” Shame filled him. “That’s why I lashed out at you. I was really angry with myself.”
Julie released a slow breath. “You were a good brother to Will,” she said softly. “He adored you, and I know how much you loved him, Brody. But you were young. We both were, just doing what teenagers do.”
Brody nodded. “
I’ve told myself that a hundred times, but it doesn’t make the guilt go away.”
Another pained second passed. “I’ve worked a couple of other kidnappings/missing children cases,” Julie said. “Every parent and sibling, even the friends of the victim, always blame themselves. But the truth is that predators are everywhere. Sometimes it’s a crime of opportunity. They see a kid off by themselves and abduct the child. Sometimes, that person has been stalking the child for a while just waiting on the opportunity to arise to snatch him without anyone noticing.”
“My father went through all that with the cops back then,” Brody said. “The police questioned all the employees at the rodeo, and as many spectators as they could. Some had already left by the time we realized Will was missing.”
“I know, I’ve studied the files.”
Brody’s gaze latched with hers. “You have?”
Julie nodded, then swung the car into the parking lot of the jail. “But if this case is connected to the Forte boy’s disappearance, and to those others cases on the wall, then maybe Kyle can lead us to this bastard and we can save the victims he has.”
Brody nodded, although Kyle’s face flashed in his mind.
If Kyle was Will and he’d been abused to the point of not recognizing him or remembering his own name, would he give up his abductor’s name?
Would Brody ever get his brother back?
*
KYLE KEPT HIS head low as the policeman dragged him from the back of the car and shoved him into the police station.
Dammit to hell. The TBI had him.
A string of expletives rolled through his head. What was going to happen now?
He wasn’t worried about himself.
But the others…
They were counting on him.
Father was already pissed that his face had shown up on the screen. He didn’t want any suspicion coming back to him. He’d pounded that in him over and over the night that news story had aired.
Today had been his chance to redeem himself.
And he’d failed.
The cop pushed him toward booking where they took his fingerprints. Kyle began to sweat. They would hammer him with questions and want to know about the other kid who’d been with him. Want to know if anyone else was involved.