by Diana Palmer
Julie released a slow breath. “You were a good brother to Will,” she said softly. “He adored you, and I know how much you loved him, Brody. But you were young. We both were, just doing what teenagers do.”
Brody nodded. “I’ve told myself that a hundred times, but it doesn’t make the guilt go away.”
Another pained second passed. “I’ve worked a couple of other kidnappings/missing children cases,” Julie said. “Every parent and sibling, even the friends of the victim, always blame themselves. But the truth is that predators are everywhere. Sometimes it’s a crime of opportunity. They see a kid off by themselves and abduct the child. Sometimes, that person has been stalking the child for a while just waiting on the opportunity to arise to snatch him without anyone noticing.”
“My father went through all that with the cops back then,” Brody said. “The police questioned all the employees at the rodeo, and as many spectators as they could. Some had already left by the time we realized Will was missing.”
“I know, I’ve studied the files.”
Brody’s gaze latched with hers. “You have?”
Julie nodded, then swung the car into the parking lot of the jail. “But if this case is connected to the Forte boy’s disappearance, and to those others cases on the wall, then maybe Kyle can lead us to this bastard and we can save the victims he has.”
Brody nodded, although Kyle’s face flashed in his mind.
If Kyle was Will and he’d been abused to the point of not recognizing him or remembering his own name, would he give up his abductor’s name?
Would Brody ever get his brother back?
* * *
KYLE KEPT HIS head low as the policeman dragged him from the back of the car and shoved him into the police station.
Dammit to hell. The TBI had him.
A string of expletives rolled through his head. What was going to happen now?
He wasn’t worried about himself.
But the others…
They were counting on him.
Father was already pissed that his face had shown up on the screen. He didn’t want any suspicion coming back to him. He’d pounded that in him over and over the night that news story had aired.
Today had been his chance to redeem himself.
And he’d failed.
The cop pushed him toward booking where they took his fingerprints. Kyle began to sweat. They would hammer him with questions and want to know about the other kid who’d been with him. Want to know if anyone else was involved.
Want to know about his parents and where he lived.
He had to keep his mouth shut.
Father would kill him if he talked.
No…worse. He’d make the others suffer and force him to watch.
Then he’d bury him like he had the other two boys.
CHAPTER SIX
Brody felt helpless as they followed the police car from the local station to the TBI headquarters in San Antonio. Will—Kyle—had been processed by the police, but Julie had insisted he be transported immediately to the state’s federal facility, claiming jurisdiction over the locals, which seemed to piss them off.
But she’d held her ground, using the fact that Will might be the victim of a serial kidnapper as leverage.
“What do you think?” Julie asked as they stepped into their break room to get a cop of coffee while Agent Cord escorted the boy to an interrogation room.
“I think he’s Will,” Brody said, going with his gut. “But…dammit, Julie, how can I not know for sure?”
Julie stirred sweetener into her coffee and gave him a sympathetic look. “It’s been seven years,” she said softly. “Will went missing before he hit puberty so his body and voice changed.”
“But those eyes…” Brody let the sentence trail off as he remembered the distant look on the teenager’s face. Sure, his eyes were brown like Will’s, and he had a cowlick, but Will had always had a mischievous light in his eyes that gave him life.
This boy’s eyes looked troubled, cold, flat as if he’d seen the dark side of life and had given up on anything better.
He’d seen that same look in a few of the kids who came to the BBL. Sometimes he’d helped them turn their lives around, but he’d also failed with two of the older kids. Life had taught them to be hard, to use force to survive, and anger was so ingrained in them that it would take years of counseling to temper it.
“We’ll push him to find out his real name,” Julie said. “But I’ve requested DNA testing to confirm his identity.”
“I still think I could reach him,” Brody said. “That if I talk to him, remind him of how we grew up, things we did together, that he’ll remember me.”
Julie squeezed his arm. “I know you’re anxious to be with him, Brody, but first let me do my job. There’s more at stake here than just his identity.”
Brody’s jaw tightened. “You mean the armed robberies?”
“Yes, that and the fact that his kidnapper may have abducted other boys, and he might lead us to them.”
He wanted to argue that all he cared about was Will.
But an image of the parents of the Forte boy flashed in his head, and he bit his tongue. He knew the pain of wondering, not knowing, missing a loved one.
He’d never wish that torture on anyone else.
“Come on,” Julie said. “Do you want to watch the interrogation?”
Brody swallowed hard. He had to observe in case Kyle gave himself away in his mannerisms, his body language, or even something small he said.
Then he would know who the boy really was.
That would be the first step in helping him.
Still, he braced himself as he followed Julie to an adjoining room with a one-way mirror. The fact that Kyle had bruises told him his story wasn’t going to be pretty.
He just wondered how ugly it would get.
* * *
“ARE YOU sure you’re up to this, Brody?” Julie asked. “Watching us interrogate Kyle may be difficult. We have to ask him some hard questions. And if he isn’t cooperative, we’ll have to push.”
A muscle jumped in Brody’s cheek, his look glazed with pain and resignation. “I want the truth,” he said. “Do what you have to do.”
Julie’s gaze met his for a heartbeat, then she gave a small nod. “Just remember that he’s been traumatized, so uncovering that truth may take time.”
“I know. I’ve waited seven years. At least if he’s alive, I have hope again.”
Julie’s heart ached for him. She wanted to drag him into a hug and comfort him like she would have done years ago, but touching him made her want more.
And she couldn’t afford to travel down that road again.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she said. “Hang in there.”
He mumbled that he would, then crossed his arms and faced the window, and Julie left the room.
But worry seized her insides. She hoped she was doing the right thing by allowing Brody to watch. But she hoped Kyle might give some clue that Brody would pick up on to confirm that he was Will.
Normally DNA testing took time, but she’d requested a rush on it, reasoning that this unsub registered on the MOST WANTED list, so she hoped to have the results soon.
If their theory was right and Kyle had been abducted by the same man who’d kidnapped little Hank Forte, and the unsub realized Kyle had been caught, he might panic, take the boys and run.
Then they might lose any link to him.
God knows, the bastard had been living under the radar for years and getting away with his crimes.
She wanted to put him away this time and make him pay for what he’d done to those children and their families.
* * *
BRODY WATCHED JULIE enter
the interrogation room, Agent Cord behind her. He had to trust her to do the right thing with his brother.
She was a trained agent.
But she’d also known Will as a child. Had played games with him, shared picnics, even helped him with homework. He remembered them making PB and Js with honey and wading in the creek. Questioning Kyle had to be hard for her, too.
If this kid was Will, would he recognize her? She’d been in their house a lot that last year—maybe he would remember her. If so, somehow that might make the interrogation easier for him to endure.
Forcing himself to focus, he turned his gaze onto Will. Kyle. Hell, he didn’t even know what to call him.
Kyle was slumped in the chair, his handcuffed hands behind him, his expression devoid of emotion. His eyes looked flat, his mouth a straight line, his posture radiating that he didn’t give a damn what evidence they had against him.
Then he noticed a slight jiggle to the teenager’s foot.
His heart began to race. Will used to jiggle his leg like that when he was nervous. At the spelling bee in school, at the rodeo when one of his favorite riders was about to perform, when he’d been in trouble at home.
He reminded himself that it was probably a common nervous gesture, but still hope took root in his chest.
Agent Cord dropped a file onto the table, then paced to the corner and stood, his arms crossed, his expression scrutinizing. Julie pulled out a chair and seated herself, a softness about her that made his body harden with desire.
“Kyle, that is your name, isn’t it?” Julie said softly. “Or is it Will?”
Kyle shot her a go-to-hell look.
“The man that was with me, Brody Bloodworth, he thinks that you’re his little brother. You see, his brother went missing seven years ago and Mr. Bloodworth hasn’t seen him since.”
Kyle simply stared at her, his expression cold again. “Yeah, so he said.”
“It’s true. Brody has hired private investigators and hounded the police and the FBI to keep looking for Will ever since he disappeared. But so far, that is until today, we have found zilch.” Julie leaned back in the chair, relaxed, a small smile on her mouth. She was trying to win the boy’s trust, make him feel safe, Brody realized.
Would it work?
“You see, Brody loved his brother a lot. Only he was a teenager and had a girlfriend, and one day they were at the rodeo and this girl convinced him to sneak out to an empty stall to make out.” Julie’s voice cracked a notch. “They left Will in the stands watching the rodeo, but when they got back he was gone.”
Kyle’s leg jiggled again. “Why you telling me all this, lady?”
Brody took a deep breath.
“Because I was that teenage girl with Brody,” she said. “I’m Julie, I was Brody’s friend back then. And I knew Will. I played horseshoes with Will at his ranch. And I helped him with math homework. Will also tagged along with me and Brody when we went fishing and took the boat out on the lake. Do you remember any of that?”
“How can I remember something that never happened?” Kyle said, his lips pressed in a thin line.
“Maybe you don’t remember,” Julie said, emotions tingeing her voice. “But Brody and I do. We both felt horrible about what happened that day at the rodeo. We went crazy searching for Will. Brody and his friends organized search parties day and night looking for him.” She paused. “And Will’s father went on TV pleading for people to come forward if they had any information. He wasn’t rich by any means, but he posted a reward for information leading to Will’s abduction.”
Kyle dropped his gaze to the floor, but his jaw twitched.
“People offered leads, but none of them panned out,” Julie continued. “Still, your brother never gave up.”
He squeezed his eyes together, then righted his head, but didn’t speak.
Julie reached out and touched his shoulder gently. “I want you to know that if you are Will, that we’ve both been looking for you. That if you are Will, you can tell us.” She hesitated, then touched the file. “And if you’re not, well, you remind us of him, and we want to help you anyway.”
A small flicker of some emotion Brody couldn’t define darkened Kyle’s eyes for a brief second before that steely mask slid back down.
Agent Cord gave Julie an odd look as if he was surprised to hear that Julie had known Brody, then he walked over and slapped the table. “Look, kid, she might have a bleeding heart,” he said, gesturing toward Julie. “But I don’t. You know we caught you red-handed in an armed robbery. That’s a felony itself, but tack on the hostage situation and you’re looking at a lot of prison time.”
Kyle shifted and stretched his legs out in front of him.
“You can do yourself a favor by cooperating,” Agent Cord said.
“It does look bad,” Julie said. “But there are always extenuating circumstances. Say, if someone forced you to commit that crime.”
Brody sucked in a breath, hoping that Will would speak up, but he simply stared at the floor.
Agent Cord opened the file and spread several photos of the robberies across the table. “We have footage from three different convenience stores proving you were present at the robberies.”
Kyle glanced at the pictures, his face stoic.
“Kyle,” Julie said. “I know you didn’t plan this robbery alone. Are you involved in a gang?”
That question brought a sharp look toward Julie.
“No gang?” she asked. “But each time you’re with another boy close to your age. This boy here—” She pointed to the blond kid. “We believe his name is Tray Goodner and that he was abducted five years ago from a carnival.”
“The two of you committed these robberies together,” Agent Cord said. “Who is your ringleader, Kyle?” Agent Cord hit the table again. “Or are you the leader?”
Kyle shot him a belligerent look.
“We know you’re in trouble,” Agent Cord said. “And that you need our help.”
Julie reached out to touch his shoulder, but he jerked away.
“We want to help you,” Julie said. “Did someone hurt you? Force you to rob the stores?”
He glared at her again.
“You have bruises on you, Kyle. How did you get those?”
“None of your damn business,” Kyle muttered.
Julie and the other agent exchanged a look. “All right, I think it’s time to call your parents,” Julie said. “Give us their name and number.”
Kyle’s body went rigid.
“I’m sure they’re probably worried about you,” Julie continued. “They’ll want to know you’re safe.”
“There’s nobody to call.” The boy ducked his head down, his lips set tight, an angry look marring his face.
“Please,” Julie said. “If someone forced you and Tray to rob that store, then we can make a deal for you. And we can help reunite you with your real families.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kyle said.
“Fine, don’t talk.” Agent Cord’s voice was harsh. “You’re old enough to be tried as an adult. Is that what you want?”
The boy’s leg jiggled again. Then Julie slid another photo from the file and laid it on the table. “Look at this, Kyle. This little boy’s name is Hank Forte. He’s only six years old.”
Kyle’s gaze cut to the picture, but he quickly glanced back down at the floor. In that split second, Brody detected pain and fear in his eyes.
“Hank’s mother and father are devastated,” Julie said. “They carried him to a local fair for the day. They were having fun, riding rides, playing games, eating cotton candy, but they turned their heads for a minute, and he disappeared.” Julie pushed the photo toward him, forcing it into his line of vision. “Hank’s parents can’t sleep right now. They’re terrified and
worried, and I’m sure that Hank is terrified, too.”
Kyle flinched, a movement so small it was barely detectable. But it indicated that Julie was getting to him.
“If you know where he is, please tell us,” Julie said softly. “You may think it’s too late for you, but it’s not. And if you talk to us, you can not only save yourself, but you can save Hank.”
* * *
JULIE STRUGGLED TO control her voice. She was determined to present a calm front to Kyle. God only knew what the poor boy had gone through.
It was obvious that he’d been abused. Probably over a long period of time.
He was also lying. That she had no doubt about. Although he tried to look tough he was scared.
And not just for himself.
The tiny flinch at the corner of his mouth when she’d shown him that photo of Hank indicated he had seen the boy. That she was right about their abductor being the same unsub.
And that he understood the boy’s terror.
So why wouldn’t he help them?
He’d said he didn’t have family, suggesting he lived on the streets.
That would be motivation for him to steal. He and Tray could have escaped together.
But she didn’t think that was the case. Kyle seemed terrified when she’d mentioned calling his parents, meaning there must be someone where he lived that lorded over him.
Someone who wouldn’t be happy the TBI had him in custody. And thanks to the damn press, he probably knew.
Kyle shifted and continued to stare at his feet, the bruises on his face more stark under the fluorescent light.
Agent Cord’s phone buzzed, and he snatched up the file. “Think about that little boy Hank and how frightened he is, and how much his folks miss him and want him back while you spend the night in a cell.”
The boy cut his eyes toward her, his silence thick with fear.
