Long, Tall Texans_Hank

by Diana Palmer

  Tears welled in Mrs. Goodner’s eyes again, and Julie squeezed her shoulder. “Come on, let’s go see your son.”

  “What do I say to him?” Mrs. Goodner asked, suddenly nervous.

  “Just speak from your heart,” Julie said.

  Brody helped the trembling woman to stand, and the three of them walked to Tray’s room. Julie knocked on the door, then they went in. Mrs. Goodner hesitated, then wiped at her eyes. “Tray?”

  The boy rolled from his side to look at her, then his face crumpled. “Mama?”

  Mrs. Goodner released a sob, then raced to his bed and dragged the boy in her arms. “Tray, I love you. I missed you so much, I thought I’d never see you again.”

  Brody blinked back his own emotions. At least Tray recognized his mother. That was a start, but he had a long road back.

  And he would have mental scars just like Will.

  God, he wanted Will back so they could get started on the process.

  *

  JULIE REMINDED HERSELF that reuniting Tray with his mother made her job worthwhile. But there were so many other boys missing.

  And Will was back in the clutches of this monster and this young man Jeremy.

  She’d heard of cases where abuseds repeated the cycle by becoming abusers, but she hadn’t worked one to this degree before. The fact that Jeremy was helping his abductor ate at her.

  Brody left Mrs. Goodner with his number and said he’d make the arrangements for her and Tray to stay at the BBL as long as they wanted and needed.

  Julie couldn’t help but admire his compassion and desire to help others.

  They left the hospital and went to pick up some barbeque, but questions lingered, nagging at them both.

  “I keep wondering what’s happening to Will right now,” Brody said. “And that little boy Hank.”

  Julie reached across the table and squeezed his hand. His gaze locked with hers, the silence filled with the worry plaguing both of them. But heat radiated from his fingers, and need flared in his eyes, reminding her of their earlier kiss.

  And taunting her to ask for another.

  To purge their tension by comforting one another.

  But her cell phone jangled, and she checked the number. Seeing it was Chief Hurt, she quickly connected the call. “Agent Whitehead.”

  “We have three possible suspects who were ex-military and who lost sons. Alan Mitland, ex-Navy. His son died at birth while he was deployed. Then Cox Fuller. He lost his little boy in a custody battle because of alcohol addiction.

  “And a man named Barry Moody. He also served in the marines, and when he returned, his wife had left with his son.”

  “We should divide up,” Julie suggested.

  “I agree. Cord will take Mitland and I’ll track down Fuller.”

  “That leaves me with Moody. Where does he live?”

  “His last known address was outside San Antonio, not too far from that ranch Brody owns.”

  Julie’s pulse jumped. Maybe they finally had a lead. “Give it to me and I’ll check it out.”

  He recited the address and Julie jotted it down on a napkin, then ended the call. Brody was already paying the bill.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing concrete,” she said, not wanting to give false hopes. “We were looking back at the original kidnapping, at what might have triggered it and ran a search on men who served in the military who had lost a child around that time period.”

  “You have a name?” Brody asked as they hurried to his Jeep.

  “Yes,” Julie said. “But it may not lead to anything, Brody. The odds that he would still be at that location are next to nothing. If he’s come close to getting caught before, he would have moved around.”

  He cranked the engine. “And since some of the other kidnappings took place in different areas and these robberies were near Amarillo, he might be living somewhere closer to the area.”

  Julie nodded as he pulled from the parking lot. “I’m afraid with the news coverage about Hank and with Will getting caught, he may have already pulled up stakes again.”

  She gave Brody the address and he entered it into his GPS, then they fell into a pained silence as he drove.

  Thirty minutes later, they veered onto a deserted country road that looked as if it hadn’t been driven on in years. Dry scrub brush, mesquites and cacti filled the landscape, the sky a dismal gray. Occasionally a deserted farmhouse popped up, but if anyone lived out there they had to be a hermit.

  Although it would make a perfect place for a compound.

  Brody slowed as the wind tossed tumbleweeds across the barren land, then he spotted a rotting old farmhouse set off from the road. Barbed wire fencing surrounded the property, but even it looked ancient and was rusting and torn in places.

  Brody wound down the dirt road, the tires spitting dirt and gravel, then slowed and they both scanned the property. “It looks deserted,” Julie said.

  Brody sighed. “Yeah, but let’s check it out.”

  He parked and together they climbed out and walked up to the dilapidated house. The windows had been boarded up, there were holes in the porch floor and half the windowpanes were broken out.

  He climbed through one, and knew immediately that the house was vacant. “There are raccoons and rats in here,” he told Julie. “No sign that anyone’s been here in a long time.”

  Julie shined a flashlight inside and grimaced in disgust. She’d been hoping at least to find signs that might lead them to this Moody man. But it didn’t look as if there was any furniture or anything else inside.

  “Stay out there, I’ll check it out,” Brody said.

  Julie nodded, then shined the flashlight to make a path and checked behind the house for outbuildings. But the only one she found looked as if it had been burned down.

  She hurried back to Brody and met him just as he was climbing from the window. He had a piece of clothing that was rotting and filthy and was small enough to have been a child’s. “I found this.”

  “I’ll take it back and have forensics analyze it,” Julie said. “If this man Moody is our guy, we might be able to match it to a victim.”

  Brody’s phone buzzed, and he grabbed it from his belt then connected the call.

  A second later, he gestured for her to get back in the car. “Okay, thanks, Miles. We’re on our way.”

  “What?” Julie asked as she fastened her seat belt.

  “They spotted a section of land that looked like it might be what we’re looking for. No sign of anyone there, but there’s a trailer and some outbuildings and barbed wire fencing surrounding it.”

  Julie prayed it wasn’t a dead end as he sped away from the farmhouse.

  *

  PERSPIRATION BEADED BRODY’S neck as he raced toward the address. He hoped to hell this was the place they were looking for.

  He wanted to find the bastard who’d hurt Will and the other boys and tear him apart limb by limb.

  Julie remained silent, her anxiety evident in the way she kept drumming her fingers up and down on the seat. The Jeep ate the miles, bouncing over ruts and ridges in the country roads. Storm clouds rolled in, threatening snow, the trees shivering in the wind.

  An hour later, he veered down another desolate road, his stomach churning as they neared the place.

  His phone buzzed and he snatched it up. It was Miles.

  “We’re going to land about a mile from the place just in case there’s someone on the property. We don’t want to alert them we’re coming.”

  “Good idea,” Brody said. “We’re almost there.”

  He hung up and filled Julie in. She checked her weapon, and Brody winced. He had a rifle in the back, but he’d never used it on anyone.

  “Have you ever had to shoot anyone?” he asked.

  Julie’s eyes darkened. “Once. A man charged me at an arrest.”

  “What did he do?”

  “He killed four college girls,” she said quietly.

  Brody wanted
to say more, but he spotted a locked gate up ahead and gestured toward it. “There it is.”

  Julie squeezed his arm. “Stay behind me, Brody.”

  He threw the Jeep to the right and parked between a group of trees. “The hell I will,” he said as he reached over the back of his seat for his rifle.

  “Brody,” Julie said, tugging at his sleeve.

  His jaw snapped tight. “We’ll go in together,” he said. “This is my brother we’ve come for. I’ll take the damn lead.”

  Julie opened her mouth to argue, but he climbed from the vehicle, then retrieved bolt cutters from the back of his Jeep. Determined to protect Julie, he strode to the gate and cut the lock. He scanned the perimeter, noting a trailer in the distance along with two outbuildings.

  Moving stealthily, he crept next to the trees, weaving between them as they approached.

  “I don’t see any vehicles,” Julie said. “No black van.”

  Disappointment surged through Brody, but still they had to check it out. They inched closer and closer until the mobile home was within arm’s reach.

  “Look,” Julie said, pointing behind the trailer to boxes of quart jars, distilled water and coffee filters.

  But Brody had already reached for the door to the mobile home. As soon as he opened it, the pungent scent of ethyl ether assaulted him.

  “It’s a homemade meth lab,” Julie said.

  Then a strange sound filled the air, and Brody grabbed Julie’s hand. “Come on, it’s going to explode.”

  They ran toward the woods, but the explosion rent the air, the force of it throwing them both to the ground a few feet away.

  He tasted dirt, then he saw Julie lying on the ground, facedown. Panic slammed into him at the sight of blood trickling from her forehead.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Brody crawled over to Julie and eased her over.

  “Julie?” He gently brushed her cheek, then removed a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped at the blood. Thankfully the cut was just a scratch.

  Still, she could have been seriously injured.

  “Julie, honey, are you okay?” Good God, he couldn’t lose her. Not now.

  Not again.

  She slowly opened her eyes, confusion clouding them. “What happened?”

  “The trailer blew.”

  “Not uncommon for homemade labs,” Julie said, then pushed herself up to a sitting position.

  Brody wanted to drag her back in his arms, hold her tight. Kiss her and tell her he would never let her go again.

  But he didn’t have that right.

  “Brody, man, are you two okay?” Johnny yelled.

  Brody straightened and stood as his friend approached. “Yeah, the damn trailer blew.”

  “We heard it,” Miles said as he jogged toward them.

  He helped Julie stand, and she brushed dirt and twigs off her slacks.

  “Did you see anyone?” Johnny asked.

  Brody shook his head no. “Did you?”

  “No movement from the chopper, no sign of a car or van leaving, either. But we should search those outbuildings.”

  Smoke swirled above the trailer, the sickening odor of the ether wafting through the air. Brody gestured toward the wooden structures. “You two take that building, and Julie and I’ll search the one to the left.”

  Miles led Johnny toward the right, and he and Julie headed to the left. The building looked like a garage or storage container, except as he entered, he noticed stalls on both sides.

  “An old barn?” he said as he pulled open the wooden door.

  Julie stepped inside, shining her flashlight across the space. “Perhaps the original owner put up the trailer as a temporary home until he could build a house.”

  “Or he planned the meth lab and needed buildings to house his supplies and product until he could move it,” Brody suggested.

  Inside the building was dark, the floor made of dirt and straw. The stench of urine and sour sweat clogged the air, nearly making him gag.

  “There’s no one here,” Brody said, disappointment mounting inside. Dammit, where was Will?

  Julie walked to the first stall and shined the flashlight inside. “Oh, my God.”

  “What is it?” Brody moved up behind her, his stomach pitching as he realized what had upset her. Leather straps were attached to the posts of the stall, chains also wound around the posts.

  Straps and chains that looked as if they had been used to tie an animal—or a child—inside the stall. They walked to each of the stalls and looked inside and found the same sick setup.

  “I can’t believe this,” Julie said, her face paling in the dim light streaking through the barn. “He is a monster.”

  Brody opened the stall door and walked inside, raking his foot through the straw. He didn’t know what he was looking for, maybe signs an animal had been kept there, not a person. He didn’t find anything in the first stall, and Julie was searching the second, so he moved onto the third. The stream of light from the outside reflected off the stall door, and he knelt to examine it. The wood had splintered, with either a rock or fingernail marks embedded in the rotting frame as if someone had tried to claw their way out.

  He examined the chains and leather strap marks next. His stomach revolted when he spotted bite marks in the leather.

  “Someone was chained in here,” he said. “There are teeth marks on the straps.”

  “Same in here,” Julie said. “I’m going to get a forensic team out here. Our unsub may not be here now, but he was here. Maybe the lab can lift some prints we can use when we catch him.”

  When they caught him? Brody was beginning to wonder if they ever would.

  Julie stepped outside the barn to make the call, and Brody followed, desperately needing some fresh air. Anything to erase the stench of what he’d just seen.

  He spotted Miles and Johnny exiting the other barn and strode toward them. Miles disappeared around the outside of the barn, but Johnny was leaning against the door, his head down. The roar of the trailer fire echoed in the air, although the flames were starting to die down.

  “Anything in there?” Brody asked Johnny.

  Johnny’s look of disgust mirrored his own feelings. “Straps and chains—”

  “Same in there,” Brody said, hitching his shoulder toward the other building.

  “I can’t believe a human could do that to another one,” Johnny muttered.

  Neither could Brody. Bile rose to his throat. But he had a bad feeling the monster who’d kidnapped Will had chained him up like an animal. “Julie is calling a forensic team to process the buildings.”

  Miles suddenly appeared at the edge of the barn, his expression set in stone.

  “What is it?” Brody asked.

  “Not good.”

  Julie ended the call and joined them. “A forensics team is on the way.” Her eyes narrowed as she realized something was wrong. “Did you find something else?”

  Miles gave a clipped nod. “Two graves.”

  Brody staggered backward. Graves?

  Dear God…had Moody killed Will when he’d returned and buried him out here where he thought no one would find him?

  *

  JULIE SHUDDERED, then noticed Brody’s pallor turning gray and pulled herself together. Her phone buzzed, so she snapped it up.

  “Mitland checked out,” Chief Hurt said. “He lives with his mother and she verified that he’s clean. Cord called and Fuller checked out, as well. He’s remarried and they have a baby.”

  “Moody’s the guy, Julie said. “We found a meth lab and the buildings where he kept the boys locked. There are also two graves.”

  “Good God,” Chief Hurt said.

  “I need a forensic team but let me check this out. I’ll call you later.”

  Julie hung up, perspiration beading on her neck at the prospect of what they might find. Brody looked shaken as she gestured toward Miles. “Show me where they are.”

  Miles jerked his head, indicating for her
to follow, and Brody snapped out of his shock. The three of them trailed Miles as he led them around the barn to the edge of the woods backing up to the building. Julie spotted the mounds of dirt and pushed her hair behind her ear.

  The February breeze picked up, swirling the chemical odor and smoke from the fire around her. Julie knelt to examine the graves, looking for signs they were recent or any evidence the person who’d dug the graves had left behind. A loose button that had fallen off, a piece of fabric or human hair, anything that might help lead them to the unsub.

  Brody suddenly disappeared, then returned a moment later carrying a shovel he must have found in one of the barns. “I have to see if Will is in there.”

  He jammed the edge of the shovel into the nearest grave, but Julie stood and grabbed the handle. “Stop it, Brody, you can’t disturb the graves.”

  Brody wiped sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. “I have to know,” he murmured. “Move out of the way, Julie.”

  Julie’s gaze met his. The torment in his eyes nearly sent her to her knees. But she couldn’t allow him to destroy evidence. “I’m sorry, Brody, but I can’t let you disturb the crime scene.”

  “I don’t give a damn about your procedure,” Brody shouted. “My brother might be in there.”

  Miles put his hand on the shovel. “She’s right, Brody.”

  Brody glared at his friend. “But I have to know—”

  “I understand you’re terrified Will is in there, and we will have the graves dug up,” Julie said softly. “But we have to wait on a team.”

  Brody’s face twisted with emotions and Julie couldn’t resist. She pulled him into her arms. “Listen to me, Brody, it’s going to be all right.”

  “Not if Will is dead,” Brody said in a raw whisper.

  Miles took the shovel, and he knelt to examine the graves while Johnny walked around them.

  “The grave looks as if it’s been there for a while,” Johnny said. “See how packed the dirt is.”

  Julie stroked Brody’s back, but his shoulders shook. “There was blood in one of the stalls,” he murmured.

  Julie cupped his face between her hands and forced him to look at her. “We don’t know that it’s Will’s blood, Brody. Hang in there a little while longer.”

  He nodded against her, his breathing shaky, and Julie led him away from the site. She didn’t stop until they’d reached where they’d parked. Instead of getting inside though, she pulled him down to a log on the ground beneath a cluster of trees where it was cool and the barns weren’t visible.