Cruisers were now on the ground level. And still the fugitive managed to elude capture. He disappeared into the thick forest of trees that led to the Goethe River. A wild rushing mass of water, thanks to the waterfall not too far away.
On a hunch, Brandon headed for the bridge. He snagged his cell phone with his left hand and called in his position and where he was headed. Backup would follow. His footsteps pounded, his wound throbbed and his breaths came in fast pants, mostly from the pain, some from the extended running. He was in good shape, but he figured he was pushing somewhere near six miles.
Where was this guy? Who was this guy who could run this far and this long without stopping? Brandon kept his phone on and shoved it in his pocket. He had his Bluetooth in his ear and gave breathless updates every few seconds. A helicopter thumped above him. “Let me talk to the chopper.” Dispatch patched him through. “Where is he?”
“To your left. Keep going. He’s almost to the bridge. Cruisers are headed that way. One will stop on either side and trap him on the bridge.”
“What about the people on it?”
“There are two pedestrians.”
Brandon put on an extra burst of speed. He had to get to the bridge and get those people off before the suspect realized he was trapped. Brandon knew the man had left the rifle in the vehicle he’d abandoned, but he didn’t know if he had another weapon or not.
Brandon arrived at the bridge seconds after the fleeing man. The two pedestrians, who looked to be in their mid-twenties, stood still, watching the masked man before horror and realization hit them. Then the young man grabbed the girl’s hand. “Run!”
They took off. The first cruiser screeched to a halt at the end of the bridge. The young couple scooted around it and dropped out of sight. The masked man stopped and spun. Saw Brandon and the cruiser blocking the way he’d just come. Brandon held his gun on him. “On the ground! Now!”
There weren’t any weapons in sight, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have any. Brandon walked toward him. “You’re trapped, dude. Give it up.”
He didn’t answer. Just backed toward the railing. Brandon approached with slow, even footsteps, keeping his weapon steady, ready for anything.
Sweat pooled at the small of his back and dripped from his face. He could only imagine how hot the mask was. The man’s frantic eyes bounced from Brandon to the police officers who now approached, weapons drawn. “Come on,” Brandon said. “You haven’t hurt anyone yet. There’s still a chance you could get off light.”
“No way.” He gripped the railing and Brandon realized what he planned. He lunged for him just as the man vaulted over the rail. Brandon reached the spot the shooter had just vacated and gripped the metal. He looked over in time to see the man hit the water hard and go under. Officers raced toward their vehicles, radios in hand, reporting the situation.
The chopper veered off and he knew they would do their best to see where the man surfaced. Brandon placed his hands on his knees then winced as his shoulder reminded him of the rough treatment it had recently received.
“Brandon?”
He turned to find Sonya climbing out of another police cruiser. He walked toward her. “Hey, what are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t stay in the car. I saw the man leave the parking garage. I hitched a ride with this officer, who was willing to help me once I explained that I was in the car the guy was shooting at.” She paused and bit her lip. “I saw him jump.”
“Yeah.”
“You think he’ll be all right?” The doubt in her eyes told him what she thought.
Brandon shook his head. “I don’t know, but he’ll have to surface at some point, and when he does, we’ll grab him.”
“The police are everywhere. Surely he won’t get away this time.”
“Let’s hope not.” He took her hand and turned her toward the car.
She gasped when she saw his shoulder. “Your shoulder. It’s more than a scratch.”
He looked at the wound. “It’s bled more because I’ve been moving.”
“Will you let me look at it?”
The officer who’d given her the ride spoke for the first time. “We have EMTs on standby. Hop in and I’ll take you to one.”
“Great.” She gave Brandon a gentle shove toward the police car. He hesitated with one more look toward the rushing river, then shook his head and gave in.
*
Sonya paced in the waiting room while Brandon was in the back getting patched up. Two officers stood guard over her at his insistence. As she paced, she touched the still-healing wound on her throat and thought.
She was missing something. Who would benefit from her death? The person who didn’t want Heather Bradley found, obviously.
But why would someone not want the child found? What did it matter at this point if she was found or not? The only reason she could come up with was the adopted son. He didn’t want her found because he felt threatened. But he had an alibi for the shooting. Then again, he could have hired someone.
“Sonya?”
She turned to find Don Bradley—her biological father—standing in the doorway. The officers moved closer. She nodded that it was all right and walked toward the man. “Hi.”
“Is the detective all right?”
“He’ll be fine. And I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you called him Brandon.”
He gave a relieved smile. “I heard the shots and saw all the craziness from my office window. Then I saw Brandon take off after him—” He swallowed hard and shook his head. “I’m so sorry this is happening. I don’t understand why someone wouldn’t want Heather found.”
“We don’t, either.”
He motioned for her to sit and she did. He eased into the chair beside her, then looked her in the eye. “You’re Heather, aren’t you? That’s what you were coming to tell me, isn’t it?”
Sonya swallowed hard and gave a slow nod. “The DNA from the hair you supplied was a match. A hundred percent match.”
“I see. You know, my wife’s sister died shortly after you were born.” His eyes shifted to the wall and she could tell his mind had gone to the past. “Those were hard days.” His eyes reddened, but no tears appeared. “But we had you. You were the shining spot in my life.” He reached over to grip her hand and Sonya let him. “I loved you with every fiber of my being—and then you were gone. And I felt I’d lost everything.”
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
He sniffed and blew out a breath, then stood and shoved his hands into his pockets.
Brandon appeared in the doorway and she rushed to him. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” He smiled and touched her cheek. “I’m fine. A scratch like I said.” He saw Don and held out a hand. “Guess you heard the commotion.”
“And then some.” Don shook his hand. “Sonya just told me the news.”
Brandon nodded. “I hated to tell you over the phone.”
The man gave him a small smile. “When you didn’t say it, I knew.”
“I figured you probably did.”
A woman entered the waiting room. Sonya recognized Brandon’s sister, Erica. Brandon spotted her at the same time. Erica made a beeline for her brother. “Shot? Really? Again?”
Brandon hugged and shushed her. “Stop. It’s barely there. Only needed five stitches and some antibiotics. Already had the tetanus up to date and I’m good to go. Won’t even need physical therapy.”
Erica looked as if she was ready to add to her brother’s pain. “Are you insane?”
He sighed. “Not last I checked. I’m fine, Erica.”
“Where was Max or Peter or Jordan or Frankie? Or someone?”
His jaw tightened. “They can’t babysit twenty-four-seven.”
“Of course they can,” she snapped. Sonya watched the two siblings snipe at each other a moment longer before Erica’s shoulders drooped. “You just scared me.”
Brandon softened at his sister’s sincere worry. He wrapped his good arm around
her. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful.”
It was her turn to sigh. “No, you won’t.” She pulled away.
Sonya exchanged a glance with Don. He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips in spite of the seriousness of the situation. Sonya felt a pang in the vicinity of her heart. Growing up, she’d always wanted a brother or sister, and now watching Erica and Brandon, she realized she still did.
“What’s your son’s name?” she asked Don.
“Grayson.”
“How will he feel when he learns about me?”
“Thrilled. He grew up knowing he had a sister. He’s always said he wished she—you—would turn up one day.”
Sonya nodded. “Maybe soon we could meet. After the craziness is over. I don’t want to put him in danger.”
“Of course.” He shook his head. “He used to pretend his nanny was his sister, but after we lost Heather—you—having another girl just seemed…wrong somehow.” He flushed. “Silly, I know.”
“Nanny?” Brandon asked.
Don blinked. “Er…yes.” He gave a little laugh. “My wife loves being a mother, but she also loves her social life.” His lips twisted in a sad smile. “It was just easier to hire live-in help. With time off, of course.”
“Of course.”
Sonya knew exactly what was clicking through Brandon’s mind. “Did I have a nanny?” she asked.
His brows lifted. “Um…well…yes, as a matter of fact, you did.”
“Was she the same nanny Grayson had?”
“No. I called to check on her one time and found she’d moved.”
“Moved where?”
“I’m not sure. No one said.”
“What’s her name?”
“Rebecca Gold.”
“You think she would talk to us?”
Don frowned. “Why?”
“She was Heather’s nanny. I want to ask her if she saw anything suspicious the day Heather was taken.”
“But she wasn’t at church that morning.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. She didn’t even go to that church.” He paused. “You’re not thinking she took Heather, are you?”
“The possibility crossed my mind,” Brandon said.
“But the police talked to her and cleared her.”
“Maybe they just didn’t ask the right questions.”
THIRTEEN
Brandon’s phone rang. Hector’s number winked up at him. “Hello?”
“Are you all right? Heard you got nicked.”
“I’m fine. And yes, thankfully, a nick is all it was.”
“Your lady friend all right?”
Brandon glanced at Sonya, who appeared deep in conversation with Don Bradley. Her father. “She’s hanging in there.”
“You like her, don’t you?”
Brandon snorted. “Do I like her? Are we back in high school now?”
“Fess up, partner.”
Brandon turned serious. “Yes. I like her.”
His simple statement seemed to throw Hector for a loop. Silence echoed back at him. Then Hector cleared his throat. “Well. Good. I…uh… Well, that’s nice, Brandon. I’m happy for you.”
Brandon smiled. He’d finally said something to make his partner go speechless. That was one for the books. “Keep me updated.”
“Yeah. Yeah. And you learn how to duck a little faster, huh?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Brandon hung up and grimaced. His shoulder throbbed. Thankfully, it was the same side he’d taken a bullet in about a year ago. At least he still had one good arm. And this bullet hadn’t even penetrated, just skimmed the surface. Still stung, though.
He walked over to Sonya. “Are you ready to go?”
“I guess so. The question is—are you?”
“I’m ready.” He looked at Don. “I’m sorry for all the chaos looking into Heather’s disappearance is causing. I hope this doesn’t come back on you. What’s your home security system like?”
The man shook his head. “My security system is state-of-the-art. After we adopted Grayson, Ann insisted. And I’m simply stunned with everything that’s happened. It just doesn’t make sense.”
“It makes sense to whoever is trying to stop us.” Brandon pulled the keys from his pocket. “I’m going to take Sonya home and get a little rest myself. We’ll regroup and figure out a plan where to go from here.”
“I want to talk to the nanny,” Sonya said.
“I’ve got Hector tracking her down. As soon as we have an address, we’ll pay her a visit.”
Don stepped forward and took Sonya’s hand. “I want to get to know you.”
Brandon saw Sonya swallow hard. “I want that, too,” she said, “but I don’t think someone else is too excited about the idea.”
“I don’t care. We’ll fight back together.”
“No. I don’t want to put you in danger. After this is over, we’ll talk, okay?”
He looked at Brandon. “I want to help.”
Brandon frowned. “I understand that, sir, but I don’t really know what you can do at this point.”
“What if Sonya comes to stay with us? My wife and I would love to have her. And I just told you we have a state-of-the-art security system.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Sonya said. “I’d have to think about it.” She bit her lip and backed up a fraction.
Brandon wondered what was going through her mind. Sheer panic blossomed and she shot him a desperate look. He stepped over and put his arm around her. “We’ll talk about it,” he said. “It’s actually not a bad idea, but give us some time to discuss it.”
“Of course.” The man shoved his hands into his pockets. “I didn’t mean to push too hard.”
“No, it’s okay,” Sonya said. She’d gathered herself together quickly and Brandon wanted to think his presence helped her do so. “Like Brandon said, I’ll…think about it.”
Don nodded and took a step toward the door. “I’ll leave now.” He shot a beseeching look at Sonya. “But please do think about it. I’ve lost almost twenty-eight years with you. I guess I just don’t want to lose another minute.”
Sonya said nothing more. She simply nodded.
He patted the front pocket of his blazer, then reached in and pulled out a small packet. “Before I forget. These are some pictures of our family. I thought you might like to see them.”
Sonya took them. “Thank you. I definitely would like to look at them.” She slipped them into her purse.
Don left.
Brandon turned to Sonya. “You don’t have to stay with them, don’t worry.”
She gave a small shrug. “If I thought Mrs. Bradley wanted me to, I might consider it, but I’d never invade her home like that knowing how she feels about me.”
Erica, who’d been standing by, observing and listening, turned to Brandon. “We’ve got resources, you know. If you need a safe house, it could probably be arranged.”
Sonya shook her head. “No. No safe house.” She pulled in a deep breath. “If I go into hiding, I’ll never be able to come out.” Her lips firmed and her chin jutted. “I’m going to stay in plain sight and just pray we catch him before he catches me.”
Sonya wanted to recall her pseudobrave words. The harsh frown on Brandon’s face said he didn’t like them, either. But she couldn’t take the words back and decided then she didn’t want to. She knew if she disappeared, she’d never be able to have a real life again. Not as herself, anyway. She couldn’t live like that. She had to find the truth and find it soon. She prayed that the Lord saw fit to let her live to do it.
Brandon escorted her from the hospital. She thought he looked pale and drawn. His shoulder had to be hurting him.
They stepped outside and Brandon came to an abrupt halt. “I don’t have a car.”
“No, but I do.” Erica, who’d been following silently behind, smiled sweetly and swung her keys at them.
Brando
n smiled. “Right. So is Max pulling protection duty tonight?”
Max, Erica’s husband, didn’t mind helping out when needed. And he was definitely needed tonight.
“Max and Peter.” Erica led the way to her vehicle.
Sonya scanned the area. Was he watching? Was he wondering how they’d once again managed to elude him? Or had he drowned in the river? Was it all over?
They arrived at Erica’s dark blue SUV, and Sonya saw Max parked next to Erica.
He rolled the window down as they approached. “Ready to roll?”
Brandon shook his hand. “What are you doing here?”
“Erica’s the chauffeur. I’m the escort.”
Sonya relaxed a fraction.
“I’ve also asked Jordan to be at the house when you’re home tonight. You need to be able to rest without worrying about an intruder,” Max said.
Jordan Gray. Sonya recognized the name. She hadn’t met the other agency operative, but knew he was Brandon’s roommate. The one who was marrying Katie Randall, a detective Brandon had worked with on occasion. When she’d first approached Finding the Lost, he’d given her the rundown on all of the employees.
Brandon motioned for Sonya to take the front passenger seat then opened the door. He looked at Max with a frown. “That’s not necessary.”
“Well, I think it is.” Erica lifted her chin a notch and gave her brother a steely-eyed look. “And Jordan agreed with us. He’ll be there when I drop you off. Peter is on the way to Missy’s as we speak.”
“And I’ll be joining him shortly,” Max said. Sonya listened to them go back and forth and leaned her head back against the headrest. It was all just too much. I don’t understand why this is happening, Lord, but don’t let my faith waver now. When Dad died, I was devastated. When my mom died, I was ready to crumble. I begged You for peace, but didn’t get it. I still don’t know that I’ve truly accepted she’s gone. That they’re both gone. Please help me, Lord.
The plea seemed to bring a measure of comfort. She didn’t know if that was the Lord or if she just felt better after getting it off her chest. But she’d asked God for peace and now she felt better. She wasn’t going to take that away from Him. Thank You, Lord.
Her Stolen Past Page 10
