Unforgettable Heroes II Boxed Set

by Elizabeth Bevarly

  “Kayla, I thought you were going to help me.”

  The girl turned and came inside.

  “Your dad wants two hotdogs. They’re in that warmer there. Guy, you want something to drink?”

  The game wound down with the Marlins, Curtis’s team, winning by two touchdowns. Near the end of the game, Brandt washed his hands at the sink after sweeping the floor. “I’m going to leave, unless you need me to do anything else?”

  “No. I think Kayla and I can handle it. Thanks for all your help.”

  He touched the bill of his cap as a sign of farewell. It was such a simple and sweet gesture Bonnie’s insides turned mushy.

  “Who is that guy?” Kayla asked the moment Brandt walked out the door.

  “A friend of mine.”

  Kayla’s eyes grew big, then squinted. “Like a…boyfriend?”

  “Oh, Kayla. Be serious. I’m too old to have a boyfriend.” Bonnie scrubbed a stain on the counter within an inch of its life.

  “Well, then what is he?”

  The look of disgust on Kayla’s face would have been funny except Bonnie was so uneasy about the conversation. Bonnie returned her attention to the counter.

  “Basically, his foster mom died and left him some money. I located him, and he’s been looking for his brother, so basically he asked me to help him. He was at work today, and he offered to help me tonight, so basically, that’s who he is.”

  “Basically,” Kayla said.

  “Yeah.” Bonnie moved on to another spot.

  “OMG, Mom.”

  “I don’t like that term, young lady.”

  “Do you basically not like the term?”

  Bonnie stopped wiping the painted surface and studied her daughter, who smirked.

  “Very funny.”

  Kayla allowed the subject to drop, but on the way home after the game, Brandt was a topic of conversation once again.

  “Hey, Mom,” Curtis said, “Brandt gave me a high five for winning. Wasn’t it cool that he was at my game?”

  “Yeah. Cool,” Bonnie said. Please let that be it.

  “How do you know him?” Kayla asked her brother.

  “He’s our guardian angel.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He watches over us, doesn’t he, Mom?” Curtis said.

  “Well….”

  “When did you meet him?” Kayla asked Curtis.

  “Let’s not—”

  “He was in Mama’s bedroom.”

  “Really?” Kayla said, a whole lot of meaning in that one word.

  “Oh, boy,” Bonnie muttered. She turned the radio up hoping to discourage the conversation, but all she was doing was putting off the inevitable. After all, she was the Bloodhound, and Kayla had inherited Bonnie’s bloodhound tendencies.

  After the boys were in bed, Kayla came into the living room and sat on the couch next to Bonnie.

  “Mom.” She huffed. “I am really disappointed. After all the lectures you’ve given me about not having sex and here you are all along doing it with that…that guy. You’re such a hypocrite. And all of those times you were telling me I better not do anything and spying on me.”

  “What makes you think I’m having sex with Brandt?”

  “Because he was in your bedroom.” Kayla paused for a second. “Basically.”

  “Basically, Rex has been in your bedroom too.”

  Kayla’s face fell. “Yeah, but….”

  “But what? You’re fifteen years old. You’re a minor. You’re not on birth control, and I’m your mother. What you do is my business. I don’t want you pregnant or getting some venereal disease from Rex, who has probably had sex with and beat on half the girls at your school. I’m an adult. I’m no longer married to your dad, so if I want to have a boyfriend, then it’s okay for me to have one. Just so you know, I have not had sex with Brandt Sherrod. The reason he was in my bedroom was because he was the one who pulled Rex off of me the night I came and got you. Brandt was helping me. He was helping both of us. If he hadn’t been there, I’m scared to think what would have happened. But he was there. And if I ever decide to have intercourse with him, you can believe that it will be because we are in a committed relationship, and we will use a condom to prevent pregnancy because even though you think I’m old, I can still get pregnant. And even when I do go through menopause, I can still get an STD, so a condom is always necessary unless you want to get pregnant or you know without a doubt your partner is completely clean. Any questions?”

  Kayla stood up and glared at her mother. “I try to talk to you, and this is what I get. I don’t know why you have to turn every single conversation into a lecture. Geez. You know?”

  She stormed out of the room, and Bonnie heard her door slam. Bonnie placed her hands behind her head and smiled.

  Okay, that wasn’t quite fair. Kayla had wanted to talk about Brandt and what was fair and all of that, but honestly, Bonnie didn’t want to hear it.

  The very idea my fifteen-year-old daughter was going to lecture me about sex?

  Give me a break.

  ****

  Brandt didn’t seem to have a set schedule. This wasn’t really an issue, except their time together the previous weekend felt to Bonnie like they’d entered a new phase in their relationship. She wanted to have contact with him.

  She thought about him—wondered what he was doing and whom he was with.

  On Thursday, she sent him a text inviting him to lunch, but the only response she received was a five-digit number. She tried again, thinking perhaps it was an error, but the same number came through.

  She waited a few more days and still didn’t hear anything, so she sent an email asking if he’d made any progress in his search for Marshall. She didn’t get a reply back.

  Had he found Marshall? Was this why he hadn’t contacted her? He’d found his brother, so he didn’t need her anymore?

  It hurt Bonnie to think about it. Maybe Louise Tackett was right. Maybe he was a rolling stone. But what if it wasn’t that? What if he had gone on some secret mission? That could be the case. But he’d told her before when he was going to be gone. What if something had happened? He’d gotten hurt. How would Bonnie know?

  She tried to put it out of her mind. He was probably fine—just on a job. One night sharing a bed and a T-shirt and a few kisses didn’t give her the right to know his coming and goings, did it?

  She sent another text, but his only answer was the number she’d received before. What did it mean? Was his phone messed up?

  She decided to bake a coconut cake—as if that might conjure Brandt up. Soon, Andy was with her. After they had mixed the batter, Bonnie set the electric beater upright on the counter, with the metal agitators dripping over the bowl.

  Andy reached a finger across one of them, swiped it, and put it in his mouth.

  “Uh-uh,” Bonnie said. “Don’t do that. The batter has raw eggs in it.”

  “Aww, Mom. But it tastes so good.”

  “I know, but it could make you sick. Let’s bake the cake first, then you can eat it.”

  “I want to lick the beaters.”

  “When we make the icing, you can lick the beaters then, all right?” Bonnie dropped a kiss on top of his head.

  After supper that evening, she served up the cake for herself and the boys.

  “How come we made a cake, Mom?” Andy asked before putting a rather large piece of it in his mouth.

  “Who cares?” Curtis answered, obviously enjoying his share of it.

  “Since Kayla’s not here, can I eat her piece?”

  Kayla had gone to a movie with a friend. “No. We’re going to have to pick her up after a while. She’ll probably eat some after she gets home.”

  When Kayla’s text came, Bonnie put the boys in the car and drove to the theater. Kayla and her friend Hannah stood inside the lobby, waiting at the window. When Bonnie drove up, the girls entered the vehicle, their faces bright and flushed with joy.

  “It must have been
a good movie,” Bonnie said waiting for the girls to put on their seatbelts.

  “It was. I won’t sleep for a week,” Hannah said.

  “I didn’t think it was scary.” The rating had been PG-13.

  “It wasn’t really scary, except for one part. But, ohmygosh, the suspense was awful,” Kayla replied.

  “I had to pee so bad, but I waited because I was afraid I was going to miss something.”

  “She almost peed her pants.” Kayla laughed.

  The boys who had been silent in the rear seat, burst into laughter at their sister’s comment.

  Bonnie looked at her daughter in the rearview mirror. It was so good to see her happy and doing things with her friends again.

  Back home, Bonnie hustled Andy and Curtis to bed. When she came back to the living room, Kayla had settled in the corner of the couch with a plate of cake.

  Bonnie joined her. “So, the movie was good?”

  “Yeah. Mom, I’ve been thinking about something.”

  “All right.”

  “That guy—Brandt—was he really the same guy who threw Rex to the floor? How did he know you needed help that night?”

  “He was with me.”

  Kayla took a bite of the cake. “You mean, he was here at the house with you?”

  “Not exactly. He knew I was worried about you, so he said he’d come look out for anything suspicious, and when you snuck out of the house, he let me know, so we went to get you. He let me go in first. He was my backup.”

  “But you left him there.”

  Bonnie smiled at her daughter. “He was in the backseat. He rode home with us.”

  She shook her head. “No, he didn’t.”

  “Yeah. He’s sneaky, like that. It’s the kind of work he does.”

  “What is he, like a narc?”

  “Something like that.”

  “I’ve been thinking about what you said, and I guess it’s okay with me if you have a boyfriend. I mean, you deserve to be happy.”

  Bonnie reached over and patted her daughter’s leg. “Thanks, sweetie.”

  “I mean, Dad’s married to Rene, and she’s not too awful as a stepmom. I guess, if you hook up with Brandt, as long as he doesn’t try to be my dad or paw you in front of us, it would be good for you.”

  “It would be good for me, huh?”

  “I guess you know Rex and I broke up.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Don’t be mad, but Hannah and I met a couple of boys at the theater. Well, we didn’t plan it. They were watching the same movie as us. Shel is in band with me. He’s pretty funny. I never really talked to him before, but he’s kind of cute. He bought me some Skittles.”

  Hmm. Those were over three dollars a pack.

  “Did you have to share?”

  Kayla grinned at her. “No. He likes Mike & Ike. I’d never had them before, so he gave me a few.”

  Wow. Relief spread over Bonnie. So long, Rex, you jerk.

  “What instrument does Shel play?”

  “The oboe. It’s a really hard instrument to play. Shel’s first chair.”

  Hmm.

  After still not hearing from Brandt, Bonnie waited three days then called the number Sheri had given her the day Bonnie had flown to Bellini.

  “Hello.”

  “Hi.” Bonnie didn’t recognize the male voice. It wasn’t Brandt, and she didn’t think it was his associate David either. “My name is Bonnie Moore. Who is this please?”

  “Who would you like to speak to?”

  “Brandt Sherrod. Sheri gave me this number when I was there—at Benjamin and Associates.”

  “When you were here. Where were you exactly?”

  “Since Brandt flew me there and Sheri drove in circles from the air field, I don’t really know where Bellini is, but I’ve been trying to call Brandt, and I’m worried. Is he at a job? Do you know whom I’m talking about? Did I even dial the correct number?”

  “Yes, I know who you’re talking about. Brandt is not on a job. He’s been given medical leave.”

  “Medical leave?” Bonnie’s heart sped up. “Was he injured in the field?”

  “No. He’s in a mental health hospital until further notice.”

  “Oh.” Bonnie sat back in her chair, trying to process what she’d just heard. “Thank you for the information. If you talk to him, would you tell him I called?”

  “Sure. Goodbye.”

  Bonnie hung up the telephone.

  Brandt was in a mental hospital. She’d brought him into her home. She’d lain down with him and slept. She’d introduced him to her children.

  He could get in her house even when it was locked.

  With shaking hands, she opened her desk drawer and took out the paper where she’d written the names of security companies and called the one that had the system Brandt had admitted was too secure even for him.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Brandt was in a mental hospital.

  Hadn’t Bonnie called him crazy early on? Dismissed him as delusional? But he’d been so convincing.

  And she’d fallen for it.

  She’d fallen for him.

  Bonnie sighed.

  What would she do when he was discharged and contacted her again? She couldn’t be involved with someone with mental illness.

  Could she?

  Maybe it was depression. Lots of people had that.

  Or maybe it had something to do with this fantasy world he seemed to live in at times. Calling himself a ninja. Working in a city that didn’t exist. Claiming he could walk in the White House because of his security clearance. Inviting her to pretend they were married.

  And I’d gone along with it.

  Fear struck Bonnie like lightning, pinging all along her nerve endings, and she shivered. She’d come to believe him because he’d flown her to a house in the middle of nowhere and let her meet two of his friends who were just as delusional as he was.

  Hadn’t she known this on some level?

  What would she do about helping him find his brother?

  What if there wasn’t a brother? What if all of that, too, was a delusion? A fantasy? A piece of a make-believe world?

  But, no. She’d found the newspaper article and the police report.

  Maybe if she could find Janet Pino, she could verify that one of the little boys from that night was Brandt.

  And maybe she needed to find Brandt as well. Maybe if she could talk to his doctors or therapists, they could help her understand if she should continue to help him find his brother, or if her help was enabling his delusions.

  Stop it, Bonnie. You don’t know what his diagnosis is.

  Do what you’re good at—be the Bloodhound. Find him, then you will know.

  Bonnie made a list of all of the mental hospitals in Kentucky and nearby Ohio. She began with the ones close to her and also included ones she thought were close to Bellini, estimating the distance because of how long the plane ride had taken them.

  Then she picked up the telephone.

  “Landon Mental Health Hospital.”

  “Hello. Do you have a patient named Brandt Sherrod?”

  “Do you have a privacy code?”

  “No.”

  “I’m sorry. You’ll have to have a privacy code before I can tell you anything.”

  “What kind of code? Like his social security number?” Bonnie opened her drawer and drew out his folder. “I can give it to you.”

  “Every patient has a privacy code. You have to tell me the privacy code before I can give you any information about a patient.”

  “Okay. Thank you.”

  Bonnie hung up the telephone. She rapidly clicked the pen she was holding.

  How was she supposed to find out where he was?

  She called Benjamin and Associates once more hoping the man who had told her that Brandt was in the hospital could tell her which one.

  But when she dialed the number, it had been disconnected.

  Darn it.

  Why
did they have to always be so secretive?

  Would she have to wait until Brandt got out and contacted her? And what would she say to him? Sorry. I have enough on my plate without falling in love with someone with mental problems.

  What if it was something minor like anxiety? He’d acted stressed when Bonnie had pressed him about the disparity between his age of when he thought he’d seen Marshall last and when it had actually happened.

  If he was in a mental hospital, it explained why he hadn’t responded to her texts and emails.

  Or had he?

  Bonnie picked up her cell phone and looked at the screen. She scrolled to the texts she’d sent him and the numerical responses she’d received back each time.

  693810

  Bonnie reached over to her office phone and called Landon Mental Hospital.

  “Can you check and see if you have Brandt Sherrod as a patient?”

  “Do you have a privacy code?”

  “Yes. 693810.”

  “I’m sorry. We do not have Brandt Sherrod listed as a patient here.”

  “Thank you.”

  Bonnie called New Hope Hospital and received the same response. Then she tried Breckinridge Hospital.

  “Good Morning. Breckinridge Hospital. May I help you?”

  “Yes. Do you have Brandt Sherrod as a patient?”

  “What is the patient’s privacy code please?”

  “693810,” Bonnie said.

  “Yes. He is a patient here.”

  Excitement ran through her. She’d found him! And it was only a half hour from where she was. “What are your visitor hours?”

  The visiting hour began at four in the afternoon, so Bonnie signed a leave slip and arrived at Breckinridge with ten minutes to spare. She had to leave her purse in a locker and receive a visitor sticker. Though the hospital appeared clean and bright, every door Bonnie went through had to be unlocked first. On the third floor, she pressed a doorbell and a man in scrubs and a staff badge answered her summons.

  “I’m here to see Brandt Sherrod,” she said.

  “All right. Let me show you to the visitor room.” Bonnie followed him down a corridor and into a room with couches, chairs, and a mounted television. Several people sat in the room, one man wore a hospital gown, another person—a woman—wore street clothes with hospital socks on her feet. Another person sat in a wheelchair with his foot braced in an air cast.