by Barb Han
It was more statement than question.
“Sure has.” Brody gripped the steering wheel tighter, readying himself for more warnings about his relationship with Rebecca.
“You have everything covered out at the ranch?”
“Thanks for the other day. My neighbor helped out last night and my part-time help pulled an extra shift this morning. So far, so good.”
“Call me if you need more help.”
“Will do.”
Brody shot Dawson a look.
“What?” Dawson asked.
“Nothing. I just thought you were going to warn me about spending time with Rebecca,” Brody said, easing his grip on the wheel.
“Sounds like something Ryan would do.”
“He already did.”
“Then you don’t need to hear it from me.”
“No. I don’t.”
“Besides, I got a different opinion about that, anyway.” Dawson chuckled. “And you know what they say about opinions and how much they stink.”
“I sure do,” Brody agreed. “I’d like to hear what you have to say, anyway.”
“The two of you together is a good thing in my book. It’s natural.”
“Us being together has never been the tricky part. It’s when she leaves that does me in.”
Dawson nodded. “I get that.”
“The last time wasn’t exactly a trip to the state fair.”
“I remember. You were a mess.”
“Thanks,” Brody said sarcastically.
“Anytime,” Dawson shot back, clearly trying to work off the tension they’d both felt. “How do you know she’ll do it again? I mean, give her some credit. She’s a grown woman now, not some young kid scared of her own shadow.”
“True,” Brody agreed. “In my experience, when people tell you who they are, it’s smart to believe them.”
“And actions speak louder than words.”
“Most clichés are rooted in truth. That’s why they’re repeated over and over again.”
“Except that she’s not the same person she was before. Not in my opinion. And I don’t remember her making any promises she’d stick around before.”
“Tell that to a kid. Here’s another problem you might not have considered.” Brody pulled up in front of their meeting place. He lived a few towns over. “Don’t both parties have to want to be in a relationship for it to work?”
The door was open and Dawson was half-out when he turned. “Had your eyes checked lately? Because I’m starting to think you’re going blind.”
Was his vision impaired when it came to Rebecca? He felt the heat between them—there was no questioning their attraction. Could there be more?
It took more than good chemistry to make a relationship work.
Dawson held on to the door. “You remember to call me if you need a hand around the ranch. You hear?”
“I plan to take you up on that offer. And thank you.”
“Good. Consider the other stuff I said, too.”
“You bet.” Brody obliged his friend and appreciated his point of view. Ultimately, relationships came down to loyalty.
And he was grateful for Dawson’s.
* * *
REBECCA DIDN’T REALIZE that she’d been in the booth for almost three hours by the time Brody walked through the door of Angel’s. She waved him over, thinking how fast time had zipped by.
By the second hour, Mr. Turner had excused himself, telling Samantha he could walk home from the restaurant.
Of course, she’d tried to talk him out of going. He’d told her that he wanted to stop by some of the shops in the square, anyway.
Reluctantly, Samantha had let him go. She’d mumbled another apology, which was unnecessary, and had said that he never got over the abductions. He’d said that he wished he could help in some way but had felt as helpless then as he did now. Some people got over the past better than others. Since Rebecca and Samantha had been friends all those years ago, the whole ordeal most likely hit a little too close to home for Mr. Turner. With the loss of his wife the previous year, it might’ve been too much for him.
Rebecca understood and had assured her friend there was no harm done.
Those thoughts washed away as Brody opened the door and made a straight line to Rebecca. His head was down, but his gaze was intense and a little part of her wondered if he’d missed her, too.
Ryan, who had been seated next to her, stood as Brody approached the table. The two shook hands and then he leaned over to hug Samantha.
When Ryan sat down again, he moved across the table, leaving the spot next to Rebecca free.
“My phone’s missing,” he repeated, this time saying it to Brody.
“When did you notice it was gone?”
“Not until she asked me about the text message I sent.” He motioned toward Rebecca. “Thing is, I didn’t send it.”
“You couldn’t have,” Brody said.
Chapter Eleven
Brody held out Ryan’s phone. “There were all kinds of festival people in the area where someone told us to meet. They were trading watch.”
“One of them must’ve lifted my phone at the gas station earlier when I stopped to get gas. I keep it in my pocket and hardly think about it until I need it. I’ve never been one of those people glued to the screen.” Ryan took the offering. He should look relieved that his uncle might be innocent. Instead, he looked even more worried. “You think one of them tried to isolate you? Get you in the woods?”
“Makes me think someone’s watching. Whoever’s behind this is most likely still trying to get to Rebecca. But now I may have a contact inside the Renaissance camp.” Of course, the guy could have been covering for one of his own. “I met a guy named Lester. He seemed like a good person albeit protective of his people. We might be able to get more information from him.”
“We still need to circle back and talk to Uncle Greg,” Ryan said.
Brody’s coffee arrived.
“I stopped by Alcorn’s office and caught a break when his admin was there working. I wasn’t sure she would be given this is Saturday. I used Rebecca’s name. She turned over a list of vendor names. We can check them against the suspect list to see how many hits we get. We’ll focus on those first.” Sitting so close to Rebecca had Brody’s pulse racing again.
“I think we should speak to my uncle first,” Ryan said.
“We can always drive to Garland and check his last-known address,” Brody offered.
Rebecca touched his arm. He ignored the heat exploding through him. Everything inside him wanted to haul her in his arms. He picked up his coffee instead of reaching for her. This seemed a good time to remind himself of the fact that most high school sweethearts who went on to marry didn’t make it to their third anniversary, or so he’d been told. He already knew how much it hurt when a relationship didn’t work. His friends had offered all kinds of unsolicited advice and encouragement when she’d walked out before.
Dismissing the notion of him and Rebecca still together before it could gain traction and make him miss something he shouldn’t want he said, “Ryan, you could drive.”
“Or we could go back and rest first. I doubt you slept much last night,” she offered.
If the Renaissance people were leaving tomorrow, then he’d rather go now. She was right, though—his head pounded and his eyelids were starting to feel like hundred-pound bales of hay sat on them as the adrenaline wore off from his earlier scuffle. “It’s probably better not to wait until morning to follow through on this.”
Ryan agreed, looking as if he might explode if he didn’t get answers soon. His nervous tick of chewing on a toothpick had already surfaced.
“I hope you guys find him. This is scary,” Samantha finally said. She reached across the table and squeezed Rebecca’s hand.
“He won’t surprise us this time,” she said. “You be careful, too. Take extra precaution if you’re out somewhere alone, day or night.”
“I wil
l. Speaking of which, I’d better get back to Dad. He’s had a lot on his mind lately with the store. I guess the pressure of owning a business is getting to him more as he ages.” She shrugged. “I’m so happy we got to see each other.”
“Tell Melanie hello for me.”
Brody picked up on a flash in Samantha’s eyes. When he really thought about it, Melanie hadn’t been back to Mason Ridge since college. “Tell her we’d love to see her sometime.”
“Any chance she’ll be coming back for the reunion next year?” Rebecca asked.
Samantha flinched, only for a brief moment. If Brody hadn’t been watching her, he would’ve missed it.
“I doubt it,” Samantha said. “Melanie doesn’t like to come back. She doesn’t have great memories from high school and her parents are almost always on the road now. They go see her in Houston.”
Brody figured a small town like Mason Ridge wasn’t for everybody.
Everyone stood and said their goodbyes. Brody requested the check and covered their lunch and drinks.
“You haven’t eaten anything yet,” Rebecca said stubbornly when he tried to usher her out the door.
To appease her, he ordered a club sandwich to go. He tried not to think about how nice it was that someone was looking out for him for a change. Experience had taught him being dependent on others could backfire and the burn left a permanent mark.
Brody had always taken care of himself, especially after his mother had pulled her disappearing act. His father had buried himself in work, so Brody learned his way around the kitchen in order to eat. There wasn’t much ceremony to it at first, mostly opening cans of soup and making sandwiches. He’d gotten better over time and once he was old enough to man the grill, his dinners got a lot more interesting.
Conversation flowed easily while they waited for his order. Later, he wanted to double check the social media messages and he still hadn’t worked through all the threatening letters to see if anything was there. They had a list of suspects, sure, but he needed something to narrow it down. It was too much to hope for a name but that’s exactly what he needed. Then, he could fit the rest of the pieces together.
“I’ll drive,” Ryan said. “We can leave your truck here.”
Brody nodded, thanked the waitress and settled the bill. His left hand instinctively reached for the lower part of Rebecca’s back as they walked toward the door.
Pulling it back, he held the door open and followed the others to Ryan’s SUV.
* * *
“MY UNCLE USUALLY leaves his door unlocked when he’s home,” Ryan offered, trying the handle. It turned, so he opened the door. “He’s most likely out back, drinking, if he still lives here.”
Brody followed, linking his fingers with Rebecca’s. To hell with what Ryan thought. Why did Brody feel guilty about holding her hand? Wasn’t like he was making a move on her. And yet, having that link kept his heart from racing. It still pounded for a different reason. The vendors hadn’t matched any of the names from the suspect list Brody had checked on the drive to Garland. That trail had gone cold.
He didn’t have a list of all vendor employees, so festival workers couldn’t be ruled out altogether.
Rebecca took two steps inside and froze. Brody immediately knew why. It was the smell of apple tobacco.
He squeezed her hand, urging her forward. Her hesitation disappeared as she powered ahead.
Inside was dark and sparsely furnished. Blinds were closed, only allowing a smidge of light to push through. An old couch with a couple of mismatched chairs pretty much covered the decor in the living room. There was an old TV with a protruding back sitting on an industrial wooden wire spool. The kitchen was on par with the rest of the place. Greg’s house was what most people would call a dedicated bachelor pad. It would work for someone in college, but for a man Greg’s age most people would consider the place sad.
“This has to be my uncle’s place,” Ryan said. “I remember this furniture.”
Brody looked for any sign there could’ve been a child there. Of course, Shane had been gone for fifteen years, so whatever Brody saw wouldn’t belong to him. If Greg abducted kids, there should be some evidence.
Nothing stood out.
The door to the back porch creaked as Ryan pushed it open.
“It’s me, Uncle Greg.” Ryan quickly added, “I brought company.”
Uncle Greg was a tall and slight man, and it wasn’t lost on Brody that he fit the description of the Mason Ridge Abductor. His easy smile faded when his gaze stopped on Rebecca.
“What brings you and your friends all the way out here?” he asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, looking uneasy. He held tightly to a beer can as he took a swig. “You folks want something to drink?”
“Nothing for us, thanks,” Brody said, noticing the tension around Ryan’s eyes as he came up beside him. Play this wrong and his uncle might not talk at all.
Rebecca had eased behind Brody a little more, clearly uncomfortable being around Ryan’s relative. Her discomfort wasn’t full-on panic and Brody took that as a good sign to keep going. If her fingers stiffened any more, he’d excuse them both. There was no reason to put her through anything she didn’t want to be part of and he’d wait with her in the SUV. Since she was doing okay, and he really wanted to stick around to see Uncle Greg’s reactions to Ryan’s questions, Brody stayed.
Ryan continued, “I need to ask you a few questions.”
“Take a seat while I refresh my drink,” Greg motioned to a mixed grouping of mismatched plastic chairs.
To be polite, Brody did.
“You remember my friends, Brody and Rebecca?” Ryan asked.
“Nice family, the Hughes.” Greg popped open a fresh beer from the cooler, took a gulp and sat down next to Ryan.
Brody noted it was the farthest seat from Rebecca. He also noticed that Greg didn’t mention anything about his own family. And that was probably for the best.
Rebecca had a death grip on Brody’s fingers. He glanced at her to get a read on whether or not he needed to take her to the SUV. Her gaze was intent on Greg. The creased lines on her forehead indicated she was carefully studying him.
The pulse at the base of her throat beat rapidly but that was her only tell. Otherwise, she looked surprisingly calm. Then again, she had the most to gain from this interview.
No reason to leave yet.
“Tell me everything you remember about the night her brother was taken,” Ryan pressed.
“I’ve already told the law everything I knew.” Greg’s expression dropped to frustration and despair. “Did they believe me? No. They hassled me for months after that boy went missing. I couldn’t walk to the corner without being hauled in for loitering.”
His expression was genuine. He had the worn look of an innocent man who’d suffered horrendous abuse at the hands of law enforcement. Brody could see Sheriff Brine pulling something like this.
Greg turned directly to Rebecca. He said, “I’m sorry for your loss, ma’am, but I want you to know that I had nothing to do with what happened. I’ve told the sheriff the same thing. But he didn’t listen.” He took another gulp of beer and Brody noticed Greg’s hands shook. “I don’t want to talk about it no more, either. Isn’t it enough I moved out of town to get away from all the harassment?”
Brody hadn’t thought about the fact that Greg might’ve been targeted all those years ago. Everyone knew Sheriff Brine disliked the Hunts. Guess he’d taken full advantage of what happened to demonstrate his power.
Ryan comforted his uncle, who was clearly shaken up just remembering.
“I’m the one who’s sorry,” Rebecca said, rising from her seat. She walked over and hugged Greg. “The sheriff shouldn’t have taken advantage of what happened to my family to hurt you.”
Greg blinked up at her, clearly stunned by her kindness. “I’ve done a lot of wrong things in my life but I would never hurt no child. I cried like everybody when that boy went missing.”
She patted his shoulder. “I know.”
He crossed his legs, the look of surprise still on his aging features. “If you ask me, the sheriff knew more than he let on back then.”
Angry words from a man who’d been scorned. Brody couldn’t blame the guy for lashing out. It was no secret that Brine didn’t like any of the Hunts.
Rebecca thanked him for his time and turned to Ryan and Brody. “We should head back and leave this poor man alone. He’s been through enough already.”
Brody rose to his feet ahead of Ryan.
They said their goodbyes and moved toward the house.
Brody stopped and picked up the pipe on the plate being used as an ashtray. He turned. “Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot,” Greg said, still visibly shaken at the memories of what Sheriff Brine had put him through.
“Why apple tobacco?”
“That’s easy. Picked up the habit from an old drinking buddy who used to come to town with the festival.” The man didn’t flinch.
Greg took another drink and Brody tried his best not to look too interested in the answer to his next question. “Do you remember that guy’s name?”
“Sure do. Thomas...oh, what’s his name. Something. It’s right there on the tip of my tongue.” He banged his knuckles on his forehead. “I remember now. Last name was Kramer.”
“Thank you. You’ve been a big help today. We appreciate you being honest with us.”
“I do what I can.”
“You don’t happen to know where Thomas is now, do you?”
“Nah. I don’t get to the festival anymore. I try to stay clear of that town with Brine breathing down my neck every time I walk on the sidewalk.”
One look at Rebecca said she’d caught on.
They had a name.
“Any chance you can still describe him?” Brody asked.
“Sure,” Greg said. “He was my about my height and build. Had brown eyes.”
Find Thomas Kramer and they had a shot at finding out what had happened to Shane.
Brody thanked Greg for his time.
By the time the trio reached the SUV, Rebecca looked about to burst. She held it in long enough to open the door and slip inside.
