Long, Tall Texans: Hank & Ultimate Cowboy ; Long, Tall Texans: Hank

by Diana Palmer

  She whispered his name, clawing at his back, holding him tighter as he teased her again and again. White-hot need raged through him, the urge to thrust inside her almost unbearable.

  Instead of satisfying himself, he raked his tongue down her breasts, then lower to her belly, then lower until he pushed her legs apart and settled his mouth where his fingers had been.

  Julie murmured a low sound of pleasure, arching into him, and he tasted her sweetness, licking and suckling her sweet nub until she cried out his name and quivered with her orgasm.

  But Brody didn’t stop then. He continued pleasuring her with wicked tongue lashes and suckling noises while she trembled and sighed and begged him to enter her.

  Finally Brody rose above her, then grabbed a condom from his jeans pocket, tore it open with his teeth and began to roll it on. Julie laughed as he struggled with it, then reached out to help him.

  One touch of her fingertips, and he thought he would explode. Julie’s eyes flickered with passion, igniting the heat in his body, and he kissed her again, then thrust inside her.

  Julie gripped his arms and clung to him as he filled her, pulled out, then plunged into her again, over and over until she cried out his name in sweet oblivion. He lifted her hips and angled her so he could go deeper, until his body shook with erotic sensations so powerful that suddenly he came apart in her arms.

  Pleasure so intense it made him growl her name stole through him, and he shuddered, rolling her to her side so he could cradle her in his arms. Their bodies were still joined, heat rippling between them, his heart racing from their lovemaking.

  Julie curled into him, and he closed his eyes, holding her tightly, afraid if he released her, he’d lose her again.

  * * *

  JULIE DRIFTED TO sleep, sated and feeling more alive—and loved—than she had in years.

  Hours later, she awakened, her cell phone trilling. For a moment, she considered not answering it. She didn’t want to leave the sanctity of Brody’s arms.

  But Will was still missing, and so was little Hank Forte.

  Brody moaned, and slowly opened his eyes, but a dark cloud passed over them when he realized the phone was ringing.

  Julie sat up, tugged the sheet up to cover her breasts, then grabbed the phone. The caller ID showed the CSU number. “Special Agent Whitehead.”

  “Agent Whitehead, this is Detective Burks from the crime unit.”

  Julie scrubbed a hand through her hair. “Yes?”

  “We’re still sorting through the prints we found at the crime scene, but we’ve identified the two bodies in the graves. Carl Fanning and Daryl Derwin. They’ve been there a long time.”

  “What about Will Bloodworth’s fingerprints? Did you find those?”

  “Yes,” he said. “But so far we haven’t found Hank Forte’s.”

  “So this man Moody must have moved before he kidnapped Hank.”

  “I can’t say for sure, but with the meth lab explosion we’re still working on the timing.”

  “Thanks.”

  “We’re going to do autopsies, of course, and contact the families.”

  Brody climbed from the bed and went into the bathroom, and she heard the shower kick on. She wanted to join him, to continue their lovemaking, to feel happy and alive and forget about the world of ugliness surrounding her, but the phone call had definitely killed the intimacy.

  Frustrated, she grabbed her clothes, hurried to the guest room across the hall and jumped in the shower herself. By the time she emerged dressed and ready to work, she found Brody in the kitchen with coffee and breakfast.

  “I talked to Johnny and Miles, and they’re going back out to search.” He handed her a cup of coffee, and their hands brushed. His were big, dusted with hair, and had brought her intense pleasure the night before.

  For a heartbeat of a second, hunger darkened his eyes, but his phone buzzed again and reality interceded as he answered the call.

  “Yes.” A pause. “Okay, I’ll meet you and Tray at the main house counseling center in five minutes.”

  Julie’s stomach growled and she sat down and ate the scrambled eggs and toast he’d made. Brody joined her a second later.

  “Mrs. Goodner and Tray are on their way here.”

  “It’s nice of you to offer them a place to stay.”

  Brody shrugged and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “God, Julie, it’s the least I can do. They’ve both been through hell.”

  He would know because he’d been there himself.

  He polished off his breakfast, and she did the same then they worked in tandem to clean up the dishes. It felt so familiar that Julie felt as if they’d been doing it for years.

  As if they belonged together.

  But she couldn’t get her hopes up for a future. Last night had been about comfort. And maybe a glimpse of the past.

  But they still had to find Will, and if Brody lost him again…

  No, she couldn’t think like that.

  Brody grabbed his Stetson and she tucked her phone onto her belt then they went to meet the Goodners.

  Tray looked bruised, his skin still a grayish color, and his bandaged arm was in a sling. His eyes darted around nervously as Brody greeted him and his mother.

  “Did you get any sleep last night?” Julie asked Mrs. Goodner.

  “Not much,” the woman admitted. She lowered her voice so her son couldn’t hear. “I was so excited to have my boy back, but when I think of what he went through…” Tears blurred her eyes and Julie squeezed her shoulder.

  “I know it’s difficult, but today your son can start to recover.” She gestured for her to sit at the round table in the corner. “We hope we find the other boys and they can have that chance, too.”

  * * *

  BRODY SYMPATHIZED WITH Tray and his mother as they settled into his office. Kim, Brandon Woodstock’s wife who counseled kids at the BBL, had agreed to sit in and was eager to help Tray.

  Brody claimed the chair across from Tray and pushed a can of soda toward him. “I’m sorry for what happened to you,” Brody said. “And this is not an interrogation, Tray. I swear, no one here is out to trick you or hurt you or pin something on you.”

  Kim spoke up. “He’s right, Tray. We’re not here to judge or condemn you and nothing you say can be used against you.”

  Tray jerked a thumb toward Julie. “What about her?”

  Julie sipped her coffee, her smile warm, welcoming. “I am a TBI agent, Tray, but no matter what you’ve heard about the police or federal agents, I only want to help you and find the other missing boys.”

  Mrs. Goodner twisted her hands together on the table. “We do want to help you,” she said. “But my son has been through so much.”

  Tray squared his shoulders, his shirt too big for his thin frame. He looked nervous, but Brody could also see that he was trying hard to be a man.

  “I’m okay, Mom.” His gaze met Brody’s. “I want to do this.”

  “You knew my brother, Will?” Brody asked.

  Tray nodded. “Father called him Kyle.”

  “What did he call you?” Kim said softly.

  “RJ.” Tray ducked his head down. “But I never forgot my real name.”

  Every muscle in Brody’s body tightened. Had Will really forgotten or was something else going on?

  “We found a compound with barn stalls and a meth lab in a trailer,” Julie said. “Is that where he kept you?”

  Tray rubbed his finger around the soda can. “For awhile. We left there when you caught Kyle.”

  “But the meth lab was still being used,” Julie said.

  Tray shrugged. “I guess he went back and worked it some. Money was tight and the heat was on. That’s why he started sending us out to rob the stores.”

 
A moment of silence passed, the harshness of his admission lingering between them all.

  Finally Kim broke the quiet. “Tray, where did you go from there?”

  Tray’s hand trembled as he picked up the soda can and took a sip. “Some place with concrete buildings.” He closed his eyes, his pale face constricting as if he was remembering a horror from his past.

  “What else was there?” Kim said in a low soothing voice. “A house? Was it a farm?”

  Tray shook his head. “Some tunnels.”

  “What kind of tunnels?” Brody asked. “Like an underground mine?”

  “Were there trucks there? Had someone been working them?” Julie asked.

  Tray opened his eyes, fear flashing in the depths. “No, it… No one was there. It was away from everything, like it hadn’t been used in a long time. There was rusted equipment left behind.”

  Brody snapped to attention, his mind racing. “An old abandoned oil mine.” He patted Tray’s shoulder. “That’s good, Tray. Thank you.”

  Kim offered Tray a smile, and his mother put her arm around him and gave him a hug. “You are a brave boy, my son.”

  Tray beamed beneath the praise, giving Brody hope that he would eventually overcome the trauma of his ordeal.

  “Do you remember anything else?” Julie asked.

  Tray looked at his mother, pain wrenching his face. “Jeremy brought Hank there,” he said, his voice cracking. “Will…he tried to protect the little guy. But when he got caught, Father was real mad.”

  Brody and Julie exchanged worried looks.

  “What did he do?” Kim asked gently,

  Tray closed his eyes again. “He said he might have to move again.” In spite of his bravado, Tray dropped his head forward and held it between his hands.

  “Why does moving upset you?” Kim asked.

  Silence, thick and daunting, echoed in the room. Then Tray answered, his voice a low tortured sound. “Because he’s scared to move us all.”

  Brody’s blood ran cold. That was the reason there were two bodies at the meth lab site. Although they had been there a while.

  Rage and disgust filled him, but then he remembered that in Tray’s story, he’d given them a lead.

  “I’m sorry for what happened to you, Tray, but thank you for your help.” He shook the boy’s hand then hugged his mother. “You two are welcome here as long as you want. The BBL will always be your home.”

  He grabbed his cell phone and punched Johnny’s number as he left the room. “I have a lead,” he said as soon as Johnny picked up.

  “We’re heading to the chopper now. Just tell us where to go.”

  Brody told him about the drilling site, and Johnny jumped on it. “We’ll start searching right away.”

  “You know,” Brody said. “I think I may know a place to check out. Some property I looked at when I was thinking about setting up the BBL.”

  He gave Johnny the coordinates, then stepped back in the room to get Julie. They had to go now. Every second counted.

  Will and Hank needed them.

  He would die before he let his brother down this time.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Julie phoned Chief Hurt to inform them about the information Tray had given them.

  “Brody knows an area where an abandoned mine is,” Julie said.

  “If you get there and find anything, call for backup,” Hurt said. “You have to consider this unsub armed and dangerous.”

  “I will.” She strapped on her holster, jammed her service revolver in it, then yanked on her jacket.

  Brody watched her, his dark eyes hooded. “You shouldn’t be doing this work, Julie. It’s too dangerous.”

  Anger slithered through her. “Let’s go.”

  He kept a rifle in the back of his Jeep, unloaded since he worked with the kids, but he had ammunition in the glove compartment. But he grabbed his .38 revolver and stuffed it in the waist of his jeans.

  “Do you have a permit for that?” Julie asked.

  Brody made a sarcastic sound. “Are you really going to preach to me about the law when we’re hunting down a violent, demented child killer?”

  “I just don’t want you to get hurt…or in trouble.” She touched his shoulder, her fingers tingling from the contact. Just a few hours ago, they had lain sated and naked in each other’s arms. Now, it was almost like that moment hadn’t happened.

  As if it hadn’t meant anything special to Brody.

  “Don’t worry about me, Julie. I can take care of myself.”

  And he would kill and put his life on the line to save his brother, even if it meant going to jail. She saw that truth in his eyes.

  He shouldn’t be going with her. He was too close to the case.

  But there was no use in telling him that because she knew he wouldn’t listen.

  At least if they were together maybe she could control the situation.

  Brody didn’t wait for her to comment. He grabbed his keys, opened the door and they headed to his Jeep. Tension made the air thick in the car, and Julie considered broaching the subject of the night before, but judging from the tight set of Brody’s rugged jaw, sex was the last thing on his mind.

  So she let the silence linger.

  He sped up, crossing from the main road to a dirt road that looked desolate. Trees flew past, the scenery blurring. Winter had turned the grass brown, bushes looked desperate for water and more sun, but the gray clouds and the chill in the air made it look as if it might snow. Rare for this part of Texas, but occasionally a snowstorm blew through.

  The wind whistled through the windows, sending dust swirling behind them. “I think Tray is going to be okay,” she said, finally breaking the awkward silence.

  Brody murmured something she couldn’t understand. “Maybe.”

  “He will,” she said, vying for optimism. “Of course he needs counseling, but he’s strong and his mother loves him. Having someone who cares about you goes a long way in overcoming a trauma.” Maybe she and Brody would both have been better off if they’d realized that years ago and supported each other instead of blaming themselves and one another.

  “He may learn to cope, but he’ll never forget what happened to him, what he saw.”

  “No, he won’t,” Julie said. “But people either let adversity destroy them or they let it make them stronger. Tray and Will both obviously did what they had to do to survive, but they also protected the younger kids. That takes guts, courage and the kind of strength that means they’ll not only survive, but turn out to be leaders.”

  Brody worked his mouth from side to side. “I hope you’re right.”

  They bypassed several rotten, deserted houses then she spotted barbed wire fencing and some concrete buildings in the distance.

  She pointed them out, her pulse jumping. “Over there.”

  “I see it,” Brody said as he whirled the Jeep down the long drive.

  Half a dozen shade trees dotted the land, and a piece of equipment that looked like it had belonged to an oil driller had been abandoned and was rusting by one of the three concrete buildings. “Looks like there was once a digging crew here,” Julie commented.

  “Yeah, they didn’t find oil,” Brody said. “So it was abandoned and Moody moved in with his victims.”

  Julie shuddered as Brody parked. Time to go in and see if anyone was here now.

  She just prayed they didn’t find any more graves.

  * * *

  BRODY EASED THE JEEP beneath a pair of Mexican olive trees.

  Julie wrestled her hair into a ponytail. “Are Miles and Johnny coming?”

  “They were checking out a couple of different spots so we could cover more territory, then they were going to fly here.”

  Julie slid from
the car, removed her gun and gripped it by her side. He did the same, the two of them creeping through the bushes and trees along the woods until they drew closer to the first building.

  Brody removed a pair of wire clippers from his pocket, cut the fence apart enough for them to crawl through, then led the way through the hole. Weeds and the overgrown grass flattened beneath his boots as he stepped forward.

  Julie arched her head to scan the area, then tugged at his elbow. “Over there, there’s the black van we’ve been searching for.”

  Brody’s pulse clamored. The man who’d held Will had driven a black van. “I should call for backup.”

  “Just text Miles that we think we found the place.”

  Julie did, then signaled to Brody to move ahead. They crouched low, ducking behind bushes in case the unsub was watching. Although everything around them seemed eerily quiet.

  The wind that had been blowing had died down, the air steeped with the scent of dirt and clay and…his own fear.

  He breathed it in and out as if it was a live beast choking him.

  Sweat trickled down the back of his neck, then the sound of a vulture flying above rent the air, and panic hit him.

  God, please don’t let us be too late.

  He made it to building one, noting in disgust that all the windows had been boarded up. A quick glance at the other buildings indicated the same condition.

  Julie brushed his arm. “I’m going in.”

  “Me first,” he whispered.

  She shook her head, but he pushed past her and examined the lock. Easier to pry the boards off the window than to break it. He scanned the property again, his senses honed, listening for sounds indicating someone was inside.

  Again the eerie quiet engulfed him, making him think that Moody had already left this place. But how? Had he realized the police were searching for the black van and confiscated another ride?

  He clenched his jaw then used his hands to rip off one of the boards. The wood was rotting and splintered in two easily, then he tore off another and another until he could see inside. He pulled a small flashlight from his pocket and shined it inside the building. “I don’t see anyone,” he said.