by Linda Warren
“No.”
She got up, grabbed her purse, intending to leave and call Blake right away. This was unacceptable.
But he was faster than her, blocking her path to the door. “Please, Ms. Brooks. I’m asking for more time.”
“I’ve been without my child for nine years. That’s enough time.”
“Please.”
Something in that one little word said in earnest got to her and she weakened. Or maybe it was the broad chest and wide shoulders that held her attention. A light citrus scent teased her nostrils. Swirls of brown chest hair peeped out from the V of his white shirt. Jared had had boyish good looks, but Carson had a raw masculinity that made her aware he was a man and she was a woman.
“I was going to talk to him last night, but he wasn’t feeling well and my aunt gave him a sleeping pill so he could rest. When he wakes up, I’ll try again, but you have to understand he’s not the strong domineering man you remember. He’s never gotten over Jared’s murder, and he’s very fragile in his body and in his mind.”
“I understand that.” She hitched the strap of her purse higher. “My mom is not doing well, either. She’s in her own little world. The tragedy has affected so many people, and it still lingers. My father’s murder was never solved. Either the authorities covered up for Asa or they didn’t care.”
“Could we talk about that?”
“The murders?”
“Yes. I have a lot of questions.”
She sighed. “What good will that do except to dredge up old heartaches and pain?”
“The cases were closed very quickly, and I feel there is still evidence out there to help corroborate your story.”
What was it about this man that made her see his point of view? “Okay. Okay. I’ll answer questions. Again, I might add.”
“I appreciate that.”
She turned toward the chair and noticed he was still standing by the door. “Are you afraid I’m going to sneak out?”
“Just making sure,” he replied with a half grin. The tired expression was gone from his face, and she knew he could be quite persuasive if he applied himself.
She resumed her seat, as did he. As she placed her purse back on the floor, she noticed the photo on his desk. Her nerves had been so helter-skelter when she was in the office before she hadn’t even seen it.
“Your children?” She pointed to the photo.
“Um...yeah. Trey and Claire.”
The boy had brown hair and favored Carson. The little girl was her mother all the way. She remembered Beth Corbett—a beautiful blonde. Hilary had told her about Beth’s death. That had to have been hard to lose his brother and wife within a few years.
“I’m sorry about your wife.” She felt she had to say something.
“Thank you,” he replied in a neutral tone, signaling the subject was off-limits.
He shuffled through the file. “Why did your dad shoot Jared? Was there an ongoing feud between them?”
She lifted an eyebrow. “You mean because of me?”
“Yes.” He looked up, his green eyes intense.
“It may surprise you to know that my father had no interest in my or my sister’s lives. When he learned I was pregnant, he said at least I had enough sense to sleep with someone who had money.” She clenched her hands in her lap. Her childhood had been riddled with strife. Her father had been a decent person until he started drinking. Then he became abusive. They used to dread the sound of his truck in the driveway. Their mother would get them out of their beds and hurry them outside in the dark to hide. She would then take the brunt of his drunken rage.
“Your father killing Jared makes no sense.” Carson’s voice penetrated her disturbing thoughts. “He had no motive.”
“The sheriff and his deputies made up a motive by talking to people around town. They said my dad was trying to force Jared to marry me and nothing could be further from the truth.”
“What was the truth?”
“We graduated in May and worked all summer. The baby was due the first week in October, and we wanted to save enough money to rent an apartment in Austin. Before the baby was born, we planned to run away and get married.”
“Who knew about the plan?”
“No one. I didn’t even tell Hilary. We didn’t want Asa to find out.”
“Can you prove any of this?”
“Why do I need to prove anything?”
His eyes held hers. “Because it would mean your father didn’t have a motive.”
“My father didn’t know we were getting married,” she said rather tartly.
He pulled a pad and pen forward. “Did you get a marriage license?”
“Yes. In San Marcos.”
“Did you rent an apartment?”
“Yes. In Austin.” She gripped her hands again to keep the memories at bay. “Jared was killed the day before we were to leave.”
Complete silence followed her words, and she took a moment to gather her shattered composure. Memories of that day were still very real and painful. But it was only a prelude of the misery to come.
“Mr. Corbett...”
“Could you please call me Carson?” His green eyes held hers, waiting.
“I’d rather keep this formal.” She didn’t know why she was hesitating. She just didn’t want to be on friendly terms with him.
“Willow Creek is as informal as you can get.”
“But you and I are not friends. You and I will never be friends.”
“I see,” he said in a flat tone, and for a moment she felt a twinge of guilt. But it passed quickly. He made her feel weak and she hated that. She would never be weak again.
She reached for her purse and stood. “Dredging up the murders is not the reason I’m here. My child is the only reason I came back, and your father is the only one who has the answer. You’re stalling because you know I’m right.”
He stood, too, his green eyes turning dark. “I’ve asked before, and your answer wasn’t satisfactory. Why are you coming back now? Why not eight years ago? Five years? You’ve left it rather late to play the mother card.”
“How dare you! I don’t have to explain anything to you, and I’m not answering any more questions. You have until eight o’clock tonight to speak to your father. If I don’t hear from you, I’m calling my attorney.” She turned on her heel and walked out.
In the car she was trembling so badly she had to take several deep breaths. She’d known this wasn’t going to be easy, but she’d never counted on her emotions betraying her. There was an attraction between them, very subtle, but it was there. No way was she letting her heart get involved with the enemy. And that was who Carson Corbett was—her worst enemy.
* * *
CARSON RAN BOTH hands through his hair. Son of a bitch! What had just happened? They were having a normal conversation and the next minute she was tearing into him like a cornered bobcat.
He closed the folder and jammed it back into the storage box. She was right. Dredging up the past was pointless. He had to deal with the present.
His cell buzzed and he reached for it on his belt. It was his aunt.
“Carson, your father’s awake. He’s had a late breakfast and now he’s watching TV.”
“I’ll be right there.”
He locked up the office and headed for home. Driving down the winding road to the house, he glanced at his cows feeding on new coastal hay. It had taken him years, but he’d slowly built a good-size herd again. Yet the ranch was far from what it used to be. He couldn’t afford help, so when he wasn’t doing his constable job, he worked the ranch. His life ran at a grueling pace, but it kept him from thinking.
Parking at the garages, he took a moment and then went in through the sunroom. Aunt Fran was in the kitchen, loading the dishwa
sher.
She looked up, her face worried. “What’s this about, Carson?”
“It’s not good.” He told her about Jena Brooks’s allegations.
“That can’t be true.” She wiped her hands on a dish towel. “Asa wouldn’t do something like that.”
“I’m not so sure. He was out of his mind with grief.”
“I wish I could have gotten here sooner after Jared died, but I was in Australia and...”
“You know Pa. You couldn’t have changed a thing. Where is he?”
“In the den. Carson,” she called as he turned away. “Be patient.”
He nodded and walked into the large Western-style room with dark walnut paneling, leather sofas, horse sculptures and a brightly colored area rug. His father sat in his chair, watching TV, a remote in his unsteady hand.
Carson was reminded of the years he and Asa went head-to-head on just about everything. His father was a hard man, and his sons knew that better than anyone. Work was always on Asa’s mind, and he’d made sure his boys started working at an early age. Carson could remember pushing hay off the back of a truck to feed cows at six. After school, it was ranch work. Weekends were the same. Vacations were nonexistent. The only fun they’d had was hanging out with friends and playing sports. His father was the reason he’d joined the Marines. He’d had to get away to be his own man apart from his father’s insane views of life.
His father was also an unforgiving man. He could remember the time Asa beat Jared to within an inch of his life for leaving a gate open. Cows got out and Asa was furious. Carson jumped in and pulled Asa off his little brother. They’d slept in the barn that night, and the next day Asa acted as if nothing had happened. There were so many days like that. Yet through it all they’d loved their father.
But Jared’s murder had broken Asa. So much so that he’d allowed a worthless ranch hand to squander away everything he’d built. Carson shook the memories away.
“Hi, Pa.”
The chair buzzed as Asa turned it to face him.
“I need to talk to you.”
“About...what?” His robust voice was now a gravelly whisper.
There wasn’t any way to do this but to say the words. “Jena Brooks is back in town.”
“Bit-ch,” he spat, his leathery, lined face suffused with rage. “Killed...my...son. Bitch!”
“Lamar Brooks killed Jared.”
Asa heaved several deep breaths and drool ran out the corner of his mouth.
“Stay calm.” Carson handed him the washcloth on the arm of the chair.
Asa dabbed at his mouth.
“Pa, there’s more.” He hated to keep on, but if he didn’t an investigator from the sheriff’s office would. “You okay?”
Asa nodded.
Carson measured his next words. “Ms. Brooks says Minnie Voltree gave her something to induce labor in the basement of this house. That you then took her baby from her and told her to get out of town or you would kill her.”
There was no reaction on his father’s face, and Carson wondered if he’d heard what he’d said.
“Pa, she’s come back for her child.”
An evil grin spread across Asa’s face. “She...will...never...find it.”
CHAPTER FOUR
CARSON SANK ONTO the arm of the sofa. Stunned. Speechless.
No denials. No indignation. No shock. Nothing but a glee in his dad’s eyes that was hard to explain. It was as if he’d been expecting this. Had been waiting for it. Waiting for the day he could have this moment. Of what? The ultimate revenge.
He marshaled his chaotic thoughts. “You kidnapped Jena Brooks and took her baby?”
Asa nodded once.
“Why?
“An eye...for an eye. A life...for a life. She...took...my boy. I took...her baby.”
“That’s insane, Pa. And illegal.”
His father stared at him with triumph in his dull eyes.
Carson stood and raked both hands through his hair. “Where’s the baby?”
Asa shook his head.
“You don’t know? Or are you refusing to say?”
Asa just stared at him.
“Damn it, Pa. Jena Brooks works for a lawyer, and he will speak to the sheriff about her claims. The sheriff in turn will have questions for you. As the constable, I’m supposed to work closely with the sheriff. Do you understand that?”
“So? Arrest...me.” Asa tried to hold out his shaky hands, but the left one barely left his lap.
Carson drew in deeply, trying to figure out how to handle the situation. “Pa, talk to me. Tell me what happened. After Jared’s death, you were under a lot of stress and everyone knows that. Just talk to me, please.”
Asa shook his head.
Carson watched the mulish expression on his father’s face. He’d seen it many times, and he was especially reminded of the day he’d beaten Jared. He’d been bent on teaching his son a lesson. And now he was determined to teach Jena a lesson. Nothing would stand in his way. Not even jail. Nothing.
But maybe there was something that would grab his attention. Something other than revenge. “Pa, that baby is Jared’s, so whatever...”
“No!” he shouted, his whole body vibrating with rage. “Bitch...lied. Had Ro-land follow...her and...”
“Roland lied to you just like he lied about everything else.”
“No!” This time the denial wasn’t so forceful.
“Whatever you did to that child you did to Jared.”
“You...believe...that bitch?”
Carson heaved a long sigh. “It’s not a question of belief. You freely admitted to taking the child. I’m just trying to figure things out. If you tell me the truth, I’m sure the D.A. will go easy on you. It was a difficult time. Please work with me. Think about your grandkids. What will you tell them when the sheriff arrests you for two kidnappings? Think about that.”
Asa looked toward the TV and pushed a button on the remote to turn it off. Carson hadn’t even been aware of the sound. He’d been so focused on his father.
Asa was silent, so Carson hoped that was a good thing. Maybe he’d gotten through to him.
“Talk to me, Pa,” he said again. “I’ll do everything I can to protect you. Just talk to me.”
Asa looked at him, his eyes cold and hard. A chill ran through Carson. “Never. She will...suffer...like me. Forever.”
Carson threw up his hands in despair. “If that’s the way you want it. Forever for you will probably be in a sanitarium, and Aunt Fran won’t be there to wait on you hand and foot.”
“Don’t...care.”
“Fine.” Carson walked out.
Aunt Fran was outside the door, and she followed him into the kitchen.
“You heard?”
“Yes. Asa’s not in his right mind.”
“I’ll agree with you on that.” He opened the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water. Twisting off the cap, he took a big gulp. “He kidnapped Jena Brooks, had Minnie induce labor and then took Jena’s child. That’s against the law. Once Jena’s attorney gets here, speaks to the sheriff and an investigator starts digging, it will be just a matter of time before Pa is arrested.”
“He’s a crippled old man out of his mind with grief. What can they do?”
“Once they verify Ms. Brooks’s baby was stolen by Pa, and there’s no doubt they will since Pa freely admits it, they’ll book him and probably put him under house arrest until the trial. If he’s convicted, they’ll put him in an institution for the rest of his life.”
“Oh, Carson.” Aunt Fran touched his arm in distress. “You can’t let that happen.”
“I don’t have any choice, Aunt Fran.” He set the bottle on the kitchen island. “I just have this bad feeling.”
“About what?”
“Pa’s been waiting for this.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s been waiting for Jena to come back. I could see it in his eyes. He keeps saying ‘a life for a life,’ and I’m so afraid he’s been waiting to tell Jena that her baby is dead—just like Jared is dead.”
“Oh, no, Carson.” Aunt Fran covered her mouth in horror. “My brother would not kill an innocent baby.”
Carson reached for the water and took a swig, wishing it was hundred-proof alcohol. He wanted to agree with her or say something to get rid of the hollow feeling in his gut. Instead, he spun toward the door. “I have some thinking to do. If Pa wants to talk, call me.”
At his car he heaved a sigh and glanced toward the barns and corrals—a peaceful ranch scene with live oaks, scrub oaks, yaupons and a hilly prairie that stretched to the beautiful Texas Hill Country. Cows munched on grass, and a windmill whirled in the distance, pumping water into a trough. Peaceful—though there was nothing peaceful about the Corbett family.
With long strides he made his way to the barn. The horse stalls were empty compared to the heyday of the Bar C, when they’d been filled with thoroughbreds. He walked through the large barn to the other end and pushed open the double doors that were an entrance to a corral and then the horse pasture.
He whistled. A black horse with three white stocking feet cantered to the fence. Carson undid the gate, and the horse pranced through and into the barn to a feed trough. Within minutes, Carson had a saddle on his quarter horse, Jet, and they galloped away into a bright sunny day. He had no idea where he was going. He had to clear his head, to get his thoughts straight.
He rode through his herd, but he barely noticed them. All his thoughts were on what he had to do in the next few hours. He dismounted at Willow Creek and sat in the grass.
Two years ago the creek had dried up from a severe drought. Due to heavy rains it was flowing again. Large willows hugged the creek, and the tips of their slender branches played with the water. He picked up a pebble and skimmed it across the surface. After three skips, it landed on the other side. He and Jared had done this so many times, each trying to outdo the other.