Ultimate Cowboy

by Rita Herron

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.

  He wanted her home with him on the ranch.

  Voices drifted in the breeze, and he slowed his pace, inching closer and moving stealthily, determined to sneak up on Moody. Was Jeremy with him now? The two of them working as a team?

  How many boys did he plan to leave in that pit?

  The voices echoed again, and he crept closer, peering through the bushes at the clearing. Old tool
s lay rusted and broken in a pile by a hole. This was the hole that led down to the tunnels Tray had talked about.

  A tall, big guy with close-cropped hair, wearing army fatigues, paced back and forth by the hole, but he couldn’t see his face. He carried an army assault rifle over his shoulder just as a good soldier would.

  He had to be Moody.

  A tall, lanky boy also dressed in fatigues stood beside him, weapon poised and pointed at the hole. Judging from the photo and sketch he’d seen, it was Jeremy.

  He removed his own weapon and clicked off the safety. Needing to get closer, he inched past a few more trees then veered to the right to get a better view.

  A cold knot of terror seized him at what he saw. Two boys were on their knees in front of the hole. Lewis Renz and Phil Jasper.

  Will had planted himself in front of them, his look feral.

  He was trying to protect the boys.

  Dammit. He was going to get himself killed trying to save them.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Julie and Miles veered closer to Brody, fear clogging her throat at the sight of Brody facing down Moody.

  Jeremy also had a gun and looked as if he would use it, as if he’d do anything to protect this man the boys called Father.

  Johnny had stayed back with Hank to wait on an ambulance and for Hurt and Cord. Knowing the little boy was safe was a small victory when two more boys were huddled together at the edge of the pit.

  Will was on his knees as if he was expecting an execution.

  Had Moody planned to kill him, then leave the others inside the pit to die?

  Then Will looked up and must have seen Brody, because his eyes flickered with hope. Brody eased through a patch of weeds, moving closer to Moody so he could sneak up behind him.

  “You have been warned, Kyle,” Moody said. “You are a traitor. You have defied your father and our team. Now it is time for your punishment.”

  The other boys looked terrified, but Will jutted up his chin.

  Julie motioned for Miles to go right while she went left. Maybe Brody could distract Moody long enough for them to save the other kids.

  But before they could reach the woods behind the boys, Brody moved in on Moody. He slipped up behind him and thrust his gun at the back of Moody’s head.

  “Drop it, Moody, or you’re dead.”

  The world spun into chaos then. Instead of complying, Moody whirled around and jabbed the butt of his rifle into Brody’s stomach.

  Julie froze, fear paralyzing her. Dear God, no. She couldn’t lose Brody now.

  * * *

  BRODY STARED INTO the cold sinister eyes of the man who had stolen his brother, and couldn’t believe what he saw. Moody almost looked like a normal man.

  Just someone you would pass on the street without noticing.

  Yet a sickness plagued him that, once he looked closer, brimmed in the man’s crazed expression.

  “Tell Jeremy to drop the gun,” Brody said firmly. Moody’s sarcastic laugh rent the air, fueling Brody’s temper. “Tell him, Moody. It’s over.”

  Moody jammed the gun harder into Brody’s belly, and Jeremy pointed his weapon at Will. But instead of giving in, suddenly Will jumped Jeremy.

  Brody’s heart hammered, but the movement shocked Moody into looking around, and Brody lunged toward him. He knocked Moody’s rifle from his hand with one hard swipe. Jeremy’s gun went off, a shot ringing through the air, and Brody prayed his brother hadn’t been hit.

  “Will?” he shouted.

  “I’m okay,” Will yelled.

  But neither of them were okay. Moody lashed out at Brody with his fists, knocking him to the ground. They rolled in the dirt, exchanging blow for blow.

  Sweat and blood trickled down his forehead, and he tasted dirt, but he was determined to win. Moody grunted as Brody punched him in the belly, then pummeled his face.

  Grunts and groans from Will and Jeremy echoed around him as they fought. Julie and Miles rushed to the boys by the pit and ushered them to the edge of the woods to safety.

  Jeremy had lost his rifle, but crawled toward it, and Will saw he was going for the gun and went after him.

  Meanwhile, Moody went for Brody’s pistol, which had flown against a rock. Brody grabbed Moody’s ankles and dragged him through the dirt, then climbed on his back. He tried to choke him, but Moody somehow found a rock and twisted enough to hit him in the side of the head with it. For a moment, Brody’s head spun. Just enough time for Moody to roll from under him and reach the rifle.

  Will and Jeremy rolled in the dirt, then Will lunged up and went back for the gun. But Jeremy flew at him and knocked him against a rock. Will’s head hit the edge, and he staggered back and collapsed on the ground, his head bleeding.

  Miles suddenly attacked Jeremy, putting the kid into a chokehold. “It’s over, son.”

  “Put the gun down, Moody,” Julie shouted.

  Brody wiped at the blood and sweat in his eyes, then Moody swung the rifle toward Julie.

  His heart nearly stopped.

  He couldn’t let the bastard kill the woman he loved.

  All the rage and anguish he’d held inside for years surged through him, and he vaulted forward and caught Moody by the knees, taking him down. The gun fired into the air, and Moody tried to turn it on Brody, but Brody clawed at it.

  “Give it up, Moody!” Julie yelled.

  But Moody was mean as hell and had trained to fight.

  He gripped the rifle, his finger nearing the trigger. Brody saw Will’s face in his mind and knew he had to stop Moody or he would hurt someone else’s child or brother.

  He gritted his teeth, then snatched the gun. They fought for it again, but this time Brody pushed Moody onto his back, then wrapped one hand around Moody’s neck, squeezing him so hard that Moody’s eyes bulged.

  He continued the pressure while Moody wheezed for air, but Moody was weakening and his fingers slowly slipped from the gun. Brody tossed it away, then climbed on Moody, straddling him as he wrapped his other hand around the man’s neck.

  Moody cursed, but his words sounded faint as Brody squeezed harder. Brody had never hated anyone like he hated this man. Moody had taken half a lifetime from him, from Julie, from his brother.

  He deserved to die.

  Brody’s fingers closed tighter, a smile creasing his face as the man’s face grew ashen, his mouth hanging open in vain as he gasped for air.

  A shot rang in the air, and he jerked his head sideways to see what had happened.

  Julie stood with the gun in the air. “That’s enough, Brody, let him go.”

  Miles held Jeremy in handcuffs and he spotted Will rousing from unconsciousness.

  “Brody, please,” Julie said as she met his gaze. “Will’s seen enough violence. Let us take Moody to jail where he belongs. The families of the other victims deserve for him to have to face them.”

  Brody glanced back down at Moody. His eyes had rolled back in his head, but he was still hanging on.

  Julie was right. Will had seen enough violence. And he didn’t want to end up in jail when Will was free now and needed him.

  He dug his knee into the man’s groin though before he released him and stood. Julie strode over and rolled Moody over, then slapped handcuffs on him while Brody raced over to Will.

  Sirens wailed in the distance, indicating help was on the way.

  Will moaned, and reached for his head, touching the blood, and Brody pulled him up against him and held him until the paramedics arrived.

  By the time they carried Will to the ambulance, Chief Hurt and Agent Cord had arrived to take Moody into custody. Brody and Julie and Miles herded the other boys toward the ambulance to join Hank.

  Brody ached for them as the medics helped them into the ambulance. He would offer their families help just as he had Tray’s.

  Then he moved up beside Will where he lay on the stretcher, a bandage wrapped around his head.

  “You were a hero today, Kyle,” he said.

&n
bsp; Tears blurred his brother’s eyes, and he shook his head. “My name is Will. I remember you, Brody.”

  Emotions swelled in Brody’s throat, tears flooding his eyes as his brother reached for him.

  Brody wrapped him in his arms, for the first time in seven years, smiling through the pain because now he believed that Will would somehow be all right.

  Julie’s heart squeezed as she watched Brody reunite with his brother. Seven long years and he’d never given up.

  Her heart was still pounding with fear from watching him nearly choke Moody though. She understood his fury, but the last thing she’d wanted to do after finally ending this nightmare was to have to arrest Brody.

  But it still wasn’t over.

  There were three boys that needed to be reunited with their family members. Hank, Lewis and Phil.

  They also had to question Moody about Anthony Putnam and Jeff Wickman. Her gut told her they were dead, but she had to know. Their families deserved closure.

  Chief Hurt approached her. “I’ll drive Moody back to headquarters and process him.”

  Julie glanced at Jeremy. “I don’t know what to do with him. He needs serious therapy but we can’t discount his part in kidnapping Hank.”

  “Sad,” Chief Hurt murmured. “We can probably get him in a psychiatric hospital for treatment.”

  Julie nodded. “Let me talk to Brody for a minute. Then I’ll meet you at the TBI.”

  Chief Hurt dragged a half unconscious Moody toward his car and pushed him into the backseat. Agent Cord took Jeremy from Miles and did the same.

  “You can’t take me away from my father,” Jeremy snarled.

  Julie simply gave him a pitying look. None of this was his fault, but she was afraid he was too traumatized to recover.

  Brody looked up at her from the ambulance where he was sitting beside Will. They both looked haggard but a smile worked its way through.

  Brody stepped from the ambulance, his smile fading. “Dammit, Julie, you almost got yourself killed.”

  Julie had expected a thank-you, not a reprimand. “So did you, Brody. But we saved Will, and that’s all that matters.”

  Anger suffused her. “Johnny can take you to the hospital, I’m going to the TBI to question Moody.”