by Diana Palmer
“What else was there?” Kim said in a low soothing voice. “A house? Was it a farm?”
Tray shook his head. “Some tunnels.”
“What kind of tunnels?” Brody asked. “Like an underground mine?”
“Were there trucks there? Had someone been working them?” Julie asked.
Tray opened his eyes, fear flashing in the depths. “No, it… No one was there. It was away from everything, like it hadn’t been used in a long time. There was rusted equipment left behind.”
Brody snapped to attention, his mind racing. “An old abandoned oil mine.” He patted Tray’s shoulder. “That’s good, Tray. Thank you.”
Kim offered Tray a smile, and his mother put her arm around him and gave him a hug. “You are a brave boy, my son.”
Tray beamed beneath the praise, giving Brody hope that he would eventually overcome the trauma of his ordeal.
“Do you remember anything else?” Julie asked.
Tray looked at his mother, pain wrenching his face. “Jeremy brought Hank there,” he said, his voice cracking. “Will…he tried to protect the little guy. But when he got caught, Father was real mad.”
Brody and Julie exchanged worried looks.
“What did he do?” Kim asked gently,
Tray closed his eyes again. “He said he might have to move again.” In spite of his bravado, Tray dropped his head forward and held it between his hands.
“Why does moving upset you?” Kim asked.
Silence, thick and daunting, echoed in the room. Then Tray answered, his voice a low tortured sound. “Because he’s scared to move us all.”
Brody’s blood ran cold. That was the reason there were two bodies at the meth lab site. Although they had been there a while.
Rage and disgust filled him, but then he remembered that in Tray’s story, he’d given them a lead.
“I’m sorry for what happened to you, Tray, but thank you for your help.” He shook the boy’s hand then hugged his mother. “You two are welcome here as long as you want. The BBL will always be your home.”
He grabbed his cell phone and punched Johnny’s number as he left the room. “I have a lead,” he said as soon as Johnny picked up.
“We’re heading to the chopper now. Just tell us where to go.”
Brody told him about the drilling site, and Johnny jumped on it. “We’ll start searching right away.”
“You know,” Brody said. “I think I may know a place to check out. Some property I looked at when I was thinking about setting up the BBL.”
He gave Johnny the coordinates, then stepped back in the room to get Julie. They had to go now. Every second counted.
Will and Hank needed them.
He would die before he let his brother down this time.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Julie phoned Chief Hurt to inform them about the information Tray had given them.
“Brody knows an area where an abandoned mine is,” Julie said.
“If you get there and find anything, call for backup,” Hurt said. “You have to consider this unsub armed and dangerous.”
“I will.” She strapped on her holster, jammed her service revolver in it, then yanked on her jacket.
Brody watched her, his dark eyes hooded. “You shouldn’t be doing this work, Julie. It’s too dangerous.”
Anger slithered through her. “Let’s go.”
He kept a rifle in the back of his Jeep, unloaded since he worked with the kids, but he had ammunition in the glove compartment. But he grabbed his .38 revolver and stuffed it in the waist of his jeans.
“Do you have a permit for that?” Julie asked.
Brody made a sarcastic sound. “Are you really going to preach to me about the law when we’re hunting down a violent, demented child killer?”
“I just don’t want you to get hurt…or in trouble.” She touched his shoulder, her fingers tingling from the contact. Just a few hours ago, they had lain sated and naked in each other’s arms. Now, it was almost like that moment hadn’t happened.
As if it hadn’t meant anything special to Brody.
“Don’t worry about me, Julie. I can take care of myself.”
And he would kill and put his life on the line to save his brother, even if it meant going to jail. She saw that truth in his eyes.
He shouldn’t be going with her. He was too close to the case.
But there was no use in telling him that because she knew he wouldn’t listen.
At least if they were together maybe she could control the situation.
Brody didn’t wait for her to comment. He grabbed his keys, opened the door and they headed to his Jeep. Tension made the air thick in the car, and Julie considered broaching the subject of the night before, but judging from the tight set of Brody’s rugged jaw, sex was the last thing on his mind.
So she let the silence linger.
He sped up, crossing from the main road to a dirt road that looked desolate. Trees flew past, the scenery blurring. Winter had turned the grass brown, bushes looked desperate for water and more sun, but the gray clouds and the chill in the air made it look as if it might snow. Rare for this part of Texas, but occasionally a snowstorm blew through.
The wind whistled through the windows, sending dust swirling behind them. “I think Tray is going to be okay,” she said, finally breaking the awkward silence.
Brody murmured something she couldn’t understand. “Maybe.”
“He will,” she said, vying for optimism. “Of course he needs counseling, but he’s strong and his mother loves him. Having someone who cares about you goes a long way in overcoming a trauma.” Maybe she and Brody would both have been better off if they’d realized that years ago and supported each other instead of blaming themselves and one another.
“He may learn to cope, but he’ll never forget what happened to him, what he saw.”
“No, he won’t,” Julie said. “But people either let adversity destroy them or they let it make them stronger. Tray and Will both obviously did what they had to do to survive, but they also protected the younger kids. That takes guts, courage and the kind of strength that means they’ll not only survive, but turn out to be leaders.”
Brody worked his mouth from side to side. “I hope you’re right.”
They bypassed several rotten, deserted houses then she spotted barbed wire fencing and some concrete buildings in the distance.
She pointed them out, her pulse jumping. “Over there.”
“I see it,” Brody said as he whirled the Jeep down the long drive.
Half a dozen shade trees dotted the land, and a piece of equipment that looked like it had belonged to an oil driller had been abandoned and was rusting by one of the three concrete buildings. “Looks like there was once a digging crew here,” Julie commented.
“Yeah, they didn’t find oil,” Brody said. “So it was abandoned and Moody moved in with his victims.”
Julie shuddered as Brody parked. Time to go in and see if anyone was here now.
She just prayed they didn’t find any more graves.
*
BRODY EASED THE JEEP beneath a pair of Mexican olive trees.
Julie wrestled her hair into a ponytail. “Are Miles and Johnny coming?”
“They were checking out a couple of different spots so we could cover more territory, then they were going to fly here.”
Julie slid from the car, removed her gun and gripped it by her side. He did the same, the two of them creeping through the bushes and trees along the woods until they drew closer to the first building.
Brody removed a pair of wire clippers from his pocket, cut the fence apart enough for them to crawl through, then led the way through the hole. Weeds and the overgrown grass flattened beneath his boots as he stepped forward.
Julie arched her head to scan the area, then tugged at his elbow. “Over there, there’s the black van we’ve been searching for.”
Brody’s pulse clamored. The man who’d held Will had driven a black
van. “I should call for backup.”
“Just text Miles that we think we found the place.”
Julie did, then signaled to Brody to move ahead. They crouched low, ducking behind bushes in case the unsub was watching. Although everything around them seemed eerily quiet.
The wind that had been blowing had died down, the air steeped with the scent of dirt and clay and…his own fear.
He breathed it in and out as if it was a live beast choking him.
Sweat trickled down the back of his neck, then the sound of a vulture flying above rent the air, and panic hit him.
God, please don’t let us be too late.
He made it to building one, noting in disgust that all the windows had been boarded up. A quick glance at the other buildings indicated the same condition.
Julie brushed his arm. “I’m going in.”
“Me first,” he whispered.
She shook her head, but he pushed past her and examined the lock. Easier to pry the boards off the window than to break it. He scanned the property again, his senses honed, listening for sounds indicating someone was inside.
Again the eerie quiet engulfed him, making him think that Moody had already left this place. But how? Had he realized the police were searching for the black van and confiscated another ride?
He clenched his jaw then used his hands to rip off one of the boards. The wood was rotting and splintered in two easily, then he tore off another and another until he could see inside. He pulled a small flashlight from his pocket and shined it inside the building. “I don’t see anyone,” he said.
“Let me climb through the window and check it out,” Julie said.
“No, I will.” Brody caught her by the arm but she shook her head.
“Listen, Brody, I’m smaller and will fit easier. Just stand watch and keep your eyes peeled.”
He gave a reluctant nod, and boosted her so she could crawl through the window. Her flashlight beam panned the inside, and he watched as light fell across the corners.
Julie hissed. “This is as bad as the other place.”
More leather straps and chains.
Rage rolled through him. This bastard didn’t need to go to jail; he deserved to die.
Julie returned and he helped haul her through the window, then they moved to the second building. Again, he pried the boards off the window and scanned the inside with his flashlight.
“We’ll have to get forensics out here,” Julie said.
Dammit. He didn’t want evidence. He wanted to find the man and beat the living daylights out of him.
The sound of the vultures ahead rattled him again, intensifying his nerves as they crossed the field to the last building. He scanned left and right, searching for a drill site or a place where the mines might have been built if they’d gotten that far.
Tray had said there were tunnels. But he didn’t see any. They must be close by though.
Julie walked over to examine the van while he tore the boards off the windows of the last structure. The moment he looked inside, he realized this place looked more like a house inside. The other two had small cubicles like stalls, but this one had a hallway and rooms on each side. He also spotted a kitchen.
Was this where Moody slept and lived while the boys were locked up like animals?
Julie slipped up behind him. “It has to be the van,” she said. “There were ropes inside and a whip.”
Brody’s jaw ached from gritting his teeth. He hoisted Julie inside the house, and peered inside, trying to see as she waved her flashlight around inside.
“Do you see anything?” he asked.
“Magazines on weapons, some underground newspapers citing conspiracy theories.” She cursed. “The man was building an army to protect himself.”
Brody grimaced. That was the reason he chose boys, and the reason they weren’t sexually abused. He’d tried to beat them into being soldiers.
“Oh, my God,” Julie said.
“What?”
“Listen, I hear something.”
Brody’s heart skipped a beat. If someone was in there, he had to go inside. He had to protect Julie.
*
JULIE SCANNED THE living room, disgusted when she saw a wall display of pictures of all the boys Moody had kidnapped. His Wall of Glory, he had labeled it, His Army.
Dear God, what acts of horror had the man who lived here committed?
A soft banging sound reverberated from down the hallway again, and she raced toward it.
She checked the room to the left. Judging from the size of the military boots on the floor, it was Moody’s.
But the sound had come from the right. Behind her, she heard Brody kicking open the front door, then a whimpering sound, barely discernible, reached her ears.
She raced across the hall then halted at the door, listening, the sound so painful that she could hardly breathe.
Nerves on edge, she lowered her gun to her side, then hurried to the door and tried to open it. The house was old, the door locked with an old fashioned kind of key. She quickly spun around in search of it.
“What is it?” Brody asked as he stormed into the room.
“Someone’s locked in the closet,” she said on a raspy breath. “I think it’s a little boy, probably Hank. I heard him crying.”
Pain wrenched Brody’s face, and he crossed the distance to the door and jerked on it. It didn’t budge.
“Listen,” Brody said gruffly. “We’re here to help you so don’t be afraid. I’m going to kick the door in. So scoot back as far as you can.”
Another whimpering sound echoed back.
“It’s okay,” Julie said through the door. “I’m a law officer, we came to take you back to your mother.”
Brody took a step back, then raised his foot and slammed his boot against the door. Inside, the boy cried out.
Once, twice, three times and Brody kicked it open. Julie’s heart ached as she knelt and saw the little boy hunched in the back of the dark closet. Tears streaked his pale face, his T-shirt was torn, his lip trembling.
Still, even dirty and shrouded in the dark, she recognized him immediately.
It was Hank Forte.
“Hey, sweetie,” Julie said softly. “It’s all right, my name is Julie.”
His big eyes were filled with terror. “I want my mommy.”
Julie’s heart broke. “I know you do, and I’m going to take you home to her, okay?”
He had drawn his knees up to his chest and had his arms wrapped around them so tightly his hands looked bone-white. There were also rope marks that made her shiver inside.
“Julie’s right,” Brody said, kneeling beside her. “We’re here to get the bad man who took you away from your mommy and daddy.”
Julie held out her arms. “Come here, Hank. We won’t ever let him hurt you again. I promise.”
Hank’s little face crumpled again, tears spilling over, and Julie reached for his hand, taking it gently in hers. A second later, he collapsed in her arms, sobbing and trembling.
Brody helped her stand, his gaze meeting hers. She could just imagine what he was thinking—that his little brother had hidden and cried like this and hoped someone would come for him but nobody had.
Julie patted and rubbed Hank’s back, soothing him with hugs and kisses and whispered words of comfort.
Brody jerked his head toward the door. “Let’s get him out of here.”
The sound of the chopper rumbled in the distance and she knew help would soon arrive.
Brody cradled her and Hank against him, and they ran out of the house and back toward the Jeep. When they neared it, Julie opened the door and sank into the backseat with Hank. “It’s going to be all right, sugar.” She gently stroked his hair back from his face and examined him. He didn’t have any visible bruises.
Maybe they’d saved him in time.
“Hank,” Brody said, leaning in and squeezing the little boy’s shoulder. “We know you aren’t the only boy he was holding. Where are
the others?”
Terror seized Hank’s face again, and he dug his fingers into Julie’s arms with a death grip.
“We want to help those boys, too,” Julie said. “And make sure this man goes to jail and never hurts anyone else again.”
Hank studied them for a pain-filled minute, then nodded.
“Were they here?”
He nodded again.
Julie stroked his back again, soothing him. “Where are they now?”
“The p…it,” Hank said.
Julie blinked, wrapping her arms tighter around the trembling boy. “What do you mean, the pit?”
“Where is this place?” Brody asked, his voice raw.
Hank released one hand from Julie’s neck, then lifted it and pointed toward the woods in the distance.
“Are they there now?” Julie asked.
Hank nodded. “The mean old man said that we had to move but the others had to stay here.”
Julie swallowed back revulsion. “Stay with him,” she told Brody. “I have to go.”
“No.” Brody gently pushed her back into the seat with the boy. “I’m going. Hank needs you right now.”
Then he turned and raced away from the Jeep just as Miles and Johnny landed in the field.
*
BRODY RAN toward the woods, his body tense with rage. He just prayed he was in time.
The wind that had died earlier picked up, swirling dead leaves around his feet, and making the trees shake. A few feet in, and he noticed footprints and forced himself to follow them instead of running blindly ahead.
Leaves rustled, the clouds growing darker by the second, a chill in the air that seemed more from his fear than the temperature.
He spotted broken twigs, flattened brush, then a piece of a plaid shirt caught on a tree.
The shirt Will had been wearing when he’d run away with Jeremy.
He struggled to breathe then listened for sounds and heard footsteps behind him. He’d heard the chopper land, so assumed it was either Julie, Johnny or Miles coming to back him up.
A tree branch slapped him in the face, but he trudged on, hoping it was Miles, not Julie. He didn’t want her in danger anymore.