Long, Tall Texans_Hank

by Diana Palmer

  She started to step out of the room, and Brody caught her arm. “Thanks, Julie. I…appreciate everything you’re doing.”

  Her beautiful eyes glittered with emotions. “You don’t have to thank me, Brody. I want Will home with you where he belongs, and I want the man who took him to rot in prison for the rest of his life.”

  Brody nodded, the years falling away as a hint of the old Julie returned. But the pain and guilt in her voice reminded him of the chasm between them. That losing Will had torn them apart.

  Would finding him bring them back together again?

  Julie stepped from the room, and he glanced through the window at the troubled, angry boy in the interrogation room, and thoughts of a reunion with Julie fled.

  All that mattered was reaching his brother and finding out who’d kidnapped him and turned him into a criminal.

  Then he’d make the bastard pay.

  After that, he had to help Will heal from the trauma he’d suffered over the years.

  Of course, Will—Kyle—hadn’t acknowledged that he recognized him, but deep in his gut, Brody knew this boy was his little brother. What had his abductor told him about his family?

  Brody had told Will that he’d looked for him for years, but the boy had shown no reaction.

  But somewhere deep down he had to know that Brody had never given up the search and that he loved him.

  And if he didn’t, Brody would make sure that he told him every day for the rest of his life until he believed him.

  *

  JULIE CORNERED AGENT Cord in the break room. “We have to get a medical and psych exam. That boy has been severely abused.”

  “I agree,” Agent Cord said. “But I’m not so sure he’s not the leader of a gang.”

  Julie clenched her teeth. “It’s possible, but he’s scared, which indicates he has someone to report to, someone he’s afraid of.”

  “You think he recognized Hank Forte?”

  Julie nodded. “He put on a face of steel, but he definitely reacted to the boy’s picture.”

  Brody curled his hands into fists. “Then he should tell us where the unsub is keeping him.”

  Julie sighed and ran her hand through her hair. “Maybe he’s afraid the creep will hurt Hank if he tells.”

  “So how do you suggest we approach the situation?” Agent Cord asked.

  “Let’s get the medical evaluations and maybe the judge will release him to a mental health facility. Counselors might be able to convince him to open up. But we have to remember, he’s undergone seven years of intense abuse. It may take time for them to earn his trust enough for that to happen.”

  Agent Cord agreed and Julie stepped aside to call and make the arrangements. Brody’s suffering drove her to take one last stab at Kyle, so she went back into the room. He was still sitting in the same chair, arms behind his back, his expression closed. Bleak.

  His bruises had darkened to an ugly purple. Those were the ones she could see. He had so many others inside, ones maybe even deeper and more painful than the visible ones on his body.

  Her heart ached for him. Had he had any kind of affection the past few years?

  Probably not, she thought sadly. His only physical contact had most likely been at the other end of the kidnapper’s fist.

  “I want to explain what’s going to happen,” Julie said matter-of-factly. “You’ll spend the night in the cell,” she said. “In the morning, you’re going to be given a physical exam by a doctor, then a psychiatrist is going to speak with you.”

  A belligerent look twisted his face.

  “Remember, I’m on your side,” Julie said. “I’ll do whatever I can for you. And if you help us find the person who kidnapped you, who took little Hank Forte from his mama and daddy, then we can make these charges against you disappear.”

  For a hairbreadth of a second, he looked at her as if he wanted to talk. Then that hardened look passed over him again, and he stared at the floor.

  Julie sighed then reached for the doorknob. “All you have to do is ask for me and I’ll come to your assistance. Any time of day or night.”

  She waited another second, hoping, praying he’d talk to her, but he didn’t respond, so she left the room, her heart heavy.

  If this boy had been severely abused as she strongly suspected, the last thing he needed was to be locked up, to be caged like a wild animal. But her hands were tied.

  And like she’d told Brody, earning his trust would take time.

  And poor little Hank…What was happening to him right now?

  *

  BRODY FROWNED as Agent Cord ordered Will—he had to call him Kyle for now—to stand up. “Let’s go.”

  Kyle kept his head down, but his body was tense, and a muscle ticked in his jaw. Kyle was upset, scared. Maybe worried about the other boy who’d been with him.

  They exited the room, and Brody did the same. He was only a few feet from his brother. Dammit, he wanted to haul him up for a bear hug and assure him everything would be all right.

  But when he took a step toward him, Kyle stiffened and gave him a look of pure hatred. Then suddenly the elevator opened and a man and woman rushed into the hallway, looking harried and frantic.

  Hank Forte’s parents—Brody recognized them from the newscast.

  “Is this the boy?” the woman shrieked as she and her husband raced toward Kyle.

  “It is, you’re the one who robbed that store,” the man shouted.

  Kyle jerked his head up, for the first time since he’d been arrested, real emotions flitting across his face. Panic. And…something else. Pain.

  Mrs. Forte grabbed at him. “The officer in Amarillo said you might know where our little boy is.”

  “Please, son, tell us,” Mr. Forte said.

  Julie suddenly rushed toward them. “Mr. and Mrs. Forte, please—”

  “Please what?” Mrs. Forte whirled around at Julie. “Don’t ask him about our child?”

  Agent Cord cleared his throat and placed an arm between Kyle and the couple to keep them from grabbing him. “Let us handle this.”

  Mrs. Forte slapped at Julie’s hands, tears streaming down her face. “But if he knows, why won’t he tell us? Why would he protect a monster who’d steal a child from his parents?”

  “Do you know where he is?” Mr. Forte asked harshly.

  Kyle’s jaw tightened in reaction, but he jerked his head to the side to avoid looking at them.

  Julie cut her eyes toward the other agent. “Take him to his cell now. I’ll handle this.”

  Both the Fortes lunged toward Kyle. “Tell us, have you seen our boy? Is he alive?” Mrs. Forte cried.

  “Is he hurt?” Mr. Forte asked in a broken voice. “Who took him? What is he doing to him?”

  “Please,” Mrs. Forte pleaded as she burst into sobs. “Please, we miss him so much, he’s just a little fellow, so innocent, we want to see him grow up…”

  Brody’s lungs squeezed for air. The questions, the pain and grief, the fear in the parents’ voices, that desperation…he’d felt it for years.

  “Will, please,” Brody said, causing the boy to flinch again. “Tell us who took you. And if he has this little boy Hank, for God’s sakes, speak up. These people want their son back just like I wanted you back.”

  Another tormented look crossed Kyle’s face, his shoulders so rigid that Brody sensed his turmoil.

  But then he sucked back any emotion and shuffled forward. “Take me to my cell.”

  Agent Cord took his elbow and herded him down the hall. Mrs. Forte began to sob, and her husband started to chase after Kyle and the agent.

  “Stop, please tell us where he is. Don’t protect that monster!”

  Brody had stood in the background long enough. Mrs. Forte started to run after her husband, but Julie caught her. “Mrs. Forte, let’s go sit down and talk.”

  Brody caught up with the man and stepped in front of him to keep him from attacking Kyle. “Mr. Forte, we need to talk. Come on back here with you
r wife.”

  “Do you know where my son is?” Mr. Forte screeched. “Because if you don’t, let me talk to that kid.”

  Brody ached for the man, but he also hurt for Kyle. Something was keeping him from telling the truth. Fear. Trauma. Maybe he’d been brainwashed….

  Kyle and the agent disappeared through a set of double doors, and Mr. Forte bent over, heaving for a breath.

  Brody patted his back. “I understand what you’re going through, I really do.”

  “How could you know?” he said angrily.

  Brody swallowed hard, then gripped the man’s elbow and guided him back toward Julie and Mrs. Forte. “Because my little brother was kidnapped seven years ago,” Brody said.

  The man turned tear-stained eyes up toward him. “He was?”

  “Yes.” Brody stopped in front of Julie, and Mrs. Forte reached for her husband, obviously needing his support.

  Then she looked up at Brody with wide, imploring eyes. “Your brother,” she said, her voice cracking, “did you ever find him?”

  Brody and Julie exchanged concerned looks, then Julie gestured for them to go into the break room with them. “Sit down, and I’ll get you some water,” she said gently.

  Mrs. Forte stumbled into a chair and her husband sank down beside her. “Did you find him?” Mrs. Forte asked again.

  Julie rushed to get them some water while Brody sat down and began to explain.

  *

  THIRTY MINUTES LATER, the Fortes had calmed from anger to shock to resignation. But the fear lingered, cold and so real that it tainted the air with the realization that a little boy had been ripped from his home and wouldn’t be sleeping safely in his own bed that night.

  Julie had to offer them hope.

  “If Kyle was abducted by the same person who took your son, then the fact that he is still alive is a good sign.” She patted the woman’s shoulder.

  “You mean that Hank is still alive?” Mr. Forte asked, wiping at his eyes.

  “Yes.” Julie knew it wasn’t much, just a crumb, but they needed any positive encouragement they could get.

  She glanced at Brody and offered him a sympathetic smile. He’d poured out his heart to soothe the couple yet he was also hurting.

  Mrs. Forte turned to Brody with a pleading look. “You think that teenager is your brother?”

  Brody hesitated, then gave a clipped nod. “I don’t know what he’s been through, but I’m going to find out.”

  “Why won’t he talk to you?” Mr. Forte asked. “If some monster kidnapped him and hurt him, it seems like he’d want to turn him in. That he’d want to help our Hank from suffering like that.”

  Pain slashed across Brody’s chiseled face, and she decided not to point out the hard facts she’d learned in the bureau. That sometimes abused kids turned out to be abusers themselves.

  Instead, Julie explained about Stockholm syndrome, then focused on another theory. “It’s also possible that Kyle is not talking because he actually thinks he’s protecting the other boys. And maybe he is. Maybe his abductor threatened to hurt Hank if he didn’t come back with money for the family. And he most assuredly threatened to hurt him or any other children he’s holding if Kyle talked.”

  “Oh, my God.” Mr. Forte’s eyes widened in horror. “How many do you think this monster has kidnapped?”

  “We don’t know yet,” Julie said, an image of the other ten boys on the bulletin board in the conference room taunting her. “But I promise you that we will do everything we can to bring your son back home to you.”

  The couple clung to each other, nodding, accepting the hope she offered because they had nothing else to do. Because they wouldn’t give up, just like Brody hadn’t. Julie thought about other cases she’d worked, about her and Brody and the night Will had gone missing.

  A large percentage of couples who lost children fell apart.

  Just as she and Brody had.

  She hoped this couple made it. If they found Hank, and she was determined that they would, he was going to need both of them to recover from his ordeal.

  Just like Will needed Brody now. All the more reason Brody had to remain strong.

  And all the more reason she had to remain focused on the case.

  “You’ll call us the minute he talks, the minute you know anything about our son?” Mr. Forte asked.

  “Of course,” Julie said. “I promise you I won’t give up until I find him.”

  The couple stood, both trembling and holding on to one another, and she and Brody walked them to the elevator.

  As soon as the doors closed behind them, Brody sighed, a pained sound that tore at her heart.

  She looked over at him and wanted to take him in her arms and hold him, promise him everything would be all right.

  But they’d both learned long ago that wishes didn’t always come true, that bad things happened.

  The fact that Will had disappeared proved it. The bruises on him and his cold, closed demeanor only reinforced that he’d suffered a severe trauma.

  “I need to see him again before I go,” Brody said.

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “Please, Julie. He’s my kid brother and he’s been through hell. I just want to make sure he’s all right.”

  Normally Julie would refuse, but this was Brody and she felt his pain as if it was her own. So she led him down the hall through another hall and an elevator that led to the holding cells.

  Julie explained that Kyle would be confined until they finished interrogating him and then he’d be moved to a regular prison. Still, Brody tensed as she escorted him through security and they reached the cell.

  She tried to see the place through Brody’s eyes. To her, the TBI was business.

  But she’d never had anyone she cared about locked inside, and she knew that could be unnerving.

  Then she spotted Will in the cell and her stomach clenched. He was lying on the cot facing the wall, his body tucked almost in a fetal position.

  “Will?” Brody said quietly.

  But Will showed no response.

  “I’m here if you want to talk.”

  Brody lingered, his tormented expression tearing at Julie.

  “We’re both here if you need us,” Julie said.

  “She’s right,” Brody said. “I won’t let you down this time.”

  But Will still remained motionless, his face turned away from them.

  Finally Brody released a deep sigh and Julie walked him back toward the elevator. He paused at the door, then wiped perspiration from his brow.

  “God,” Brody murmured in a choked whisper. “What did that bastard do to him?”

  *

  KYLE STARED at the scratches on the wall, counting them just like he did when he was at home. He had to do something to make his mind stop thinking.

  His pulse began to pound, that sick feeling rising in his throat again. What would the people do to him here if he didn’t talk?

  But how could he?

  If he told them about their father, the police would storm their compound. It was a compound, he’d decided a long time ago, not a home. The outbuildings where his father kept them were stalls like on a ranch. The floors dirt. The walls battered wood. Then concrete in their new compound. They hadn’t been there long.

  He was stupid to get caught. So stupid. Father would not tolerate his failure again. He’d punish him before he put him in the ground like he did the others who defied him.

  His stomach clenched. He didn’t care if he died. Sometimes he’d even begged for it.

  Especially when he had to go in the hole.

  He hated the dark pit. He couldn’t breathe there, couldn’t see or hear anything, couldn’t do anything but think about the fear and fight the darkness…

  He hadn’t been there in a while. But the new brother was there now.

  Suddenly he felt like he was suffocating again. He opened his mouth and struggled for a breath.

  The hole was where you went
when you were bad.

  And he’d been bad a lot.

  But he didn’t want the others to suffer because he was bad now.

  The pretty woman’s face flashed in his mind. She had a soft voice. Eyes that reminded him of glittering stars. And a smile that reminded him of someone… Someone, but he didn’t remember who.

  She said his name was Will. That she’d known him long ago.

  But his name wasn’t Will. It was Kyle.

  And that other man with the big cowboy hat. Brody Bloodworth.

  He claimed he was his brother.

  But that was wrong. His brothers lived on the compound. His father picked them because they were special. Because their families didn’t want them anymore.

  At least that’s what he told the new ones.

  Had he told him that when he’d first come to live with him? He didn’t remember. All he remembered was the voice coming through the pipe in the hole…the voice telling him he was bad.

  He closed his eyes, tried to think of a way to escape. He had to go home, beg his father not to hurt the little ones.

  The cries of that woman, Hank’s mama, and his daddy’s questions reverberated in his head, and his eyes stung. They said their son had gone missing. That they loved him and wanted him back.

  It was Hank.

  He was the kid in the picture the lady had shown him.

  The blond kid with the crooked teeth.

  But Father said his name was Davis.

  Still, the little boy had screamed that it was Hank. Over and over he’d cried that name.

  Kyle curled his body tighter, wrapped his arms around his knees. He couldn’t trust the police or these people. He couldn’t trust anyone.

  If his father even thought they were coming to the compound, he’d put them all in the hole. He might even leave them there and start his family over.

  Just like he’d done before.

  No, he couldn’t tell the police or anyone.

  He had to find a way to escape.

  It was the only way he could save Hank and the others.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Brody couldn’t sleep that night.

  He and Julie had picked up burgers and carried them to their hotel, and he’d said good night to her at her room, then retreated to his own.