by Paula Graves
“Take a look at this and tell me what you think.”
Jay leaned closer and the two of them watched as feed from a security camera filled the screen. Two teenage boys wearing dark hoodies walked into a convenience store, combed the aisles until the few customers inside left, then approached the cashier. Their faces were shrouded in shadows from the hoods, but the taller one held a pistol on the clerk, then demanded all their cash.
“Why are we watching a petty robbery?” Jay asked.
Chief Hurt clicked an icon, and the camera closed in on the oldest boy. Julie’s heart began to pound as his face came into focus.
“Oh, my God,” she whispered. “Is it possible?”
Chief Hurt punched another set of keys. “Something about the face seemed familiar so I ran it through our databases, cross-referencing with photos from our missing kids’ files and the facial recognition software program that keeps them updated.”
Julie’s stomach knotted as she watched the computer work its magic. The yearly updates of Will’s picture as he’d progressed in age were displayed first, then a comparison shot of the boy at the convenience store and Will’s latest sketch.
They were so similar her instincts surged to life.
“I can’t believe it,” Julie said, stunned. “We’ve been looking for Will Bloodworth for years, and if this is him, he’s surfaced as a criminal?”
“We think it’s a local gang,” Chief Hurt said. “A group of boys have been robbing stores across Texas.”
“Do you think someone bigger is behind it?” Julie asked.
Chief Hurt shrugged. “Maybe. That’s what we have to find out.”
“I have to tell Will’s brother, Brody,” Julie said. “He...never gave up hope that Will was alive.”
Jay arched a brow. “You’ve kept in touch?”
Julie shook her head, a pang ripping through her. “No, but he sends an email periodically to the bureau asking for updates. He’s kept his brother’s name in front of us to make sure we don’t stop looking for him.”
Chief Hurt crossed his arms. “Cord, take Special Agent Harmon with you to Amarillo to work on the disappearance of the Forte boy. Whitehead, you’re right. Go talk to this kid’s brother, tell him what we’ve discovered.”
Emotions pummeled Julie. She’d waited years for this moment, to be able to tell Brody that she’d found his brother. To somehow make right the wrong she’d done years ago.
“Maybe you can convince him to help us find his brother and bring him in,” Hurt said.
Julie’s chest constricted.
Brody was going to be relieved, even thrilled, to know Will was alive.
But how would he feel when he learned the law wanted him? That once they found him, instead of coming home with him, he would probably go to jail?
* * *
BRODY’S CELL PHONE buzzed just as Mason kissed the bride. Laughter and cheers erupted, and the boys from the ranch shifted, anxious for the food. Miles gave his wife a big kiss, which started a chain reaction with all the happy couples in the audience—once again, a reminder that Brody was alone.
Music echoed from the guitar, everyone cheered and clapped, but his phone buzzed again, spoiling the moment. He glanced at the number, ready to let it roll to voice mail. But then he saw the number on the caller ID.
The Texas Bureau of Investigation.
His heart stopped for a moment. He’d memorized that number long ago.
It might not be about Will, he told himself.
Still, hope surfaced. Along with fear.
He knew good and damn well that the call might mean his brother was dead.
The phone buzzed again, and he headed toward the porch as the preacher introduced Mr. and Mrs. Mason Blackpaw and the couple danced down the aisle toward the reception area.
Gritting his teeth, he punched Talk. “Brody Bloodworth speaking.”
A breath whispered over the line, making him tense. “Who is this?”
“Brody, it’s Julie.”
His breath stalled.
“Special Agent Julie Whitehead from the TBI,” she continued, her voice slightly shaky.
Jesus, he’d heard she’d gone into law enforcement. Even read that she’d helped Mason and Miles find the serial killer who’d been cutting up women the last few months.
Picturing her in that role had been hard for him.
“Brody?”
“Yeah, I’m here,” he said. “Just shocked to hear from you.”
“I’m on my way to the BBL to see you,” she said. “It’s...about Will.”
He closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose to stem the emotions assaulting him. God help him, he had thought he wanted answers.
Now, he wasn’t so sure.
Outside, the festivities continued as Mason and Cara cracked open the champagne. Miles McGregor made a toast in celebration of the new life the couple were starting together. They were happy, smiling, looking forward to their future.
Something he hadn’t done since that horrible day seven years ago.
Finally, he cleared his throat, willing himself to be strong. He’d waited years for this call; he had to know. “You found him?”
“Yes, we think so,” Julie said. “I’ll explain when I arrive.”
“Explain? What the hell does that mean?” All his pent-up anger, guilt and worry churned through him. “Just tell me, dammit, do you know where he is?”
“Not exactly,” Julie said. “Like I said, I’ll explain when I get there.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to ask the question that had tormented him every night since Will had disappeared, but he couldn’t bring himself to.
Not yet.
Julie hung up, and he sat down on the porch swing and knotted his hands into fists and waited. There was no way he could join the celebration right now.
Instead, he watched for Julie’s car, knowing she had the answers that he’d told himself he needed to move on with his life.
Only he’d been kidding himself.
The scenarios that screamed through his head did nothing but make him feel sick inside. And the truth, no matter what it was, couldn’t be pretty or Julie would have told him over the phone.
He had to brace himself for the worst. Trouble was he didn’t know what would be more horrible—finding out his brother was dead, or that he’d been held hostage and abused for years.
* * *
JULIE ADMIRED THE sprawling pastures and riding pens as she drove onto the BBL. She’d read about the ranch in the papers and seen pictures of the main house, cabins, stables, camp activities and counseling services offered by the ranch and had been stunned at what Brody had accomplished.
He’d always been a rough, hardworking cowboy and loved riding and roping, but he hadn’t grown up wealthy. In fact, his mother had died when he was younger and his father had barely kept their small ranch going.
He’d also blamed Brody when Will had disappeared, destroying his relationship with his son. She wondered if they’d made up before his father had died.
If not, she knew that Brody carried that sting with him.
Maybe it was the reason he’d started the BBL.
She’d also followed the story featuring him as one of the wealthiest ranchers in Texas now. He’d worked his way up on other ranches, made some good investments, and accumulated a fortune.
But instead of letting that wealth go to his head, he’d devoted a huge portion of it to this ranch. He’d also become a role model for troubled boys, which impressed her even more.
She watched several quarter horses running freely in the pasture and smiled. The sight of the animals reminded her of her own dreams when she was young.
She’d wanted to be a vet. Had imagined her and Brody mar
rying and having a small spread and children. And of course, she would take care of the animals.
A deep throbbing took root in her chest and wouldn’t let go. Those had been a teenager’s foolish fantasies.
Again, she glanced at the horses with their beautiful manes dancing in the wind.
Anything to distract her from the task ahead.
And from the idea of seeing Brody again.
God, she had loved him so much.
And he had loved her.
They’d made love and whispered promises to each other in the dark, promises of marriage and family and babies.
Then Will had gone missing and Brody’s love for her had turned to hatred.
Gripping the steering wheel tighter, she tried to ignore the pain that memory triggered. She had survived and become a seasoned agent because of it.
Today was about doing her job.
Still, as the big farmhouse came into view with its sweeping trees and the sunset casting golden hues over the land, her heart fluttered crazily.
Brody and some fellow ranchers donated time and money to the project, funding camps, riding lessons and counseling.
There was no doubt in her mind that losing Will had inspired Brody to start the BBL. After all, he’d suffered some hard knocks growing up, but he’d had a tender side, as well, especially for those less fortunate than him.
God knows he’d saved her from the wrath of her uncle a few times.
Shrugging off those memories, as well, she spotted the remnants of the wedding celebration to the right side of the farmhouse. Once long ago when she’d been an innocent girl, she’d fantasized about her own wedding.
But not anymore.
Will’s disappearance and the horrific things she’d seen on the job had killed those fantasies.
She struggled to catch her breath. And now she had to destroy Brody’s hope that Will would come home safe and happy.
At least he was alive, though. That had to mean something.
She parked, her gaze straying to the front porch of the house and her chest squeezed as she spotted Brody sitting in that porch swing. Seven years had only made him more handsome.
The young boy had become a man, all filled out and muscular. His dark hair was a little longer, nearly brushing his collar, his jawbones just as prominent, his skin a deep bronze from working outside.
He stood as she got out of the car and she swore he’d grown an inch or two in height. She knew every muscle and inch of that skin beneath his chambray shirt, every place that made him moan and sigh with pleasure.
The memory made her yearn to touch him again.
He wore a long duster and a dress shirt indicating he’d been at Mason’s wedding when she’d called. But his somber expression told her he held the weight of the world on those broad shoulders.
Then his gaze pinned her with a look of contempt, and she almost wished she’d let another agent handle this job.
But it was her fault Will had gone missing, and she had vowed to herself that one day she’d find him and bring him back to Brody.
Now she knew Will was alive, she had to keep that promise.
No matter how much it cost her.
ISBN: 9781460313831
Copyright © 2013 by Paula Graves
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